Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Today I opened wide my eyes,
And stared with wonder and surprise,
To see beneath November skies
An apple blossom peer;
Upon a branch as bleak as night
It gleamed exultant on my sight,
A fairy beacon burning bright
Of hope and cheer.

"Alas!" said I, "poor foolish thing,
Have you mistaken this for Spring?
Behold, the thrush has taken wing,
And Winter's near."

Serene it seemed to lift its head:
"The Winter's wrath I do not dread,
Because I am," it proudly said,
"A Pioneer.

From: ‘Courage’ by Robert W. Service

Lottie Matthews had seen many strange things happen in her life up to this point. The exact definition of “seeing” was, in this case, a bit muddled. She’d seen the car crash when she was five years old and on the backseat between her bickering parents. It had just been a few seconds earlier than when Malcolm and Emilia Matthews would hear screeching tires and lay their eyes on a bloody wreckage. Lottie had known where a soccer ball would touch the ground again after a long arc through the air, and positioned herself accordingly on the spot that it would make its unexpected second bounce to. Cases like that were easily put down on luck, and she liked it that way. The later medication helped to dull those edges and give her less of moments where this “advantage” could come to the surface.

It’s now, with Jackie Taylor barging in through the cabin door as a white dusting of snow covers her shoulders; with one hand shaking and clenching involuntarily while the other keeps frantically snapping at the lighter like it is the very thing keeping her alive, that Lottie sees something present itself as an after-image instead. A scene at dawn, with the snow thicker and shapes obscured under its blanket. She briefly wonders why this image would appear here and now, but her thoughts don’t get the time to come to some sort of conclusion, as the sudden cold from the outside and the constant, sharp snap-snap-snap of the lighter stirs a great annoyance in the other stirring residents of the cabin.

“Jackie, what the fuck!” Mari snaps, but just as quickly turns over and drags the thin blanket further over her shoulder. Lottie watches from her own uncomfortable bed as this seems to rouse Jackie from wherever her mind has gone off to. Her wide eyes find Mari’s voice as she puts one foot forward with the stability a baby deer’s and the ankle succumbs under the weight of the body it is supposed to hold upright.

She falls face-first into a pile of girls — Lottie can’t see who it is with all the moving around — and despite the sounds of protest and surprise, it’s probably better than breaking teeth on the wooden floor.

“It’s snowing?” Lottie turns from the squirming mess of bodies at Jackie’s site of impact to the front door. Van holds it so that most of the draft is blocked out, but Lottie can see the wonder on her scarred face. She gets up from her own cod, walks over as the chill drifts up her nightgown despite the socks she’s pulled on under it, and joins Van at her side. The sound outside is dampened by a thin layer of fresh snow. Not that there was any sound to begin with. Maybe they should have expected this as the birdsong lessened in the past weeks, but they had other things on their mind.

“Is it even November already?” Van asks, and Lottie isn’t sure if she knows the answer. Shauna probably has the most accurate window of time available if she kept her journal entries consistent over the past months.

“Could be. Late October, early November. We’re much higher north, so snow falls here earlier.”

“But so sudden?”

Lottie regards the campfire that’s not even smoldering. Jackie’s blanket lies discarded next to it, its crumpled form almost covered fully by white. Speaking of…

Misty has quickly taken up her position as the local nurse. It’s funny, seeing her fuzz over Jackie’s red-tipped fingers as if she didn’t bear any animosity towards their former captain only a few hours ago. Lottie isn’t sure how she herself feels about all this. The intensity has lessened, which is maybe for the best. It seems like the rest agree with that feeling, seeing as they keep away from Jackie but don’t force her out of the cabin, either.

(Forgiveness is a noble thing. It’s not easy, but it is for the best) the voice of Laura Lee says from a distant place.

It gets drowned out by the increased volume of all the other Yellowjackets chattering in the cabin’s living room. Misty tries to convince others of helping with Jackie; Mari throws up a protest of sleeping in the same space with her after yesterday’s argument; Van looks on with disappointed at the scene as the JVs try their best to stay out of it and, in the midst of it all, Taissa and Shauna have made their way down from the attic. Both of them first point their eyes to Van and Lottie by the door. When Lottie turns towards the hearth, where Misty has set up a — hopefully temporary — spot to inspect Jackie, she’s certain that Shauna follows suit.

“Can you all shut up!” Taissa’s voice booms through the small space as Shauna moves. She steps between the irritated girls and crouches down at Jackie’s side, opposite of Misty. Lottie can see her being careful, gentle even, as she turns Jackie’s stricken face towards her and speaking to her so softly that it’s still only audible in a mutter despite the silence that Taissa commanded from the rest. When Shauna manages to take Nat’s lighter from Jackie’s firm grip, there truly is no other sound to be heard beside the low gusts of wind blowing in. At that, Van closes the door, giving it a push to make sure that no more cold gets inside.

“Okay, so,” Taissa surveys the scene, but lets her eyes fall on Lottie and Van as if they are the ones responsible, “what is going on?”

“Jackie got homesick and felt like that was enough reason to—”

“Thank you, Mari, I can see that Jackie is inside.” Taissa is the only one so far who seems genuinely relieved at the observation. Shauna is still more of a mystery, but with how easily she slipped back into that role of support, or being a friend, Lottie has some inkling that things might still be fixable between them. Given that they work on it.

“It’s snowing,” Van says. “Not too heavy, but it is still going.”

Taissa thinks. Her brows pull into a frown as she steps towards the door and opens it to just a crack. “Shit.” She closes it again, turning to Lottie. “Did Nat and Travis get back?”

Lottie knows they didn’t. She would have noticed if the both of them slipped back into the cabin, no matter how quiet they tried to be. If they didn’t come back yet, they were either still looking for Javi, or something else was holding them up.

“I don’t want to jump to conclusions, but I doubt they’re dressed for this kind of weather,” Taissa notes. She glances over to Jackie and Shauna, one clinging to the other for warmth as Misty drapes the soaked-through letterman over a seat. “If Jackie is already in such a state, I don’t think we should just wait for them to come back on their own.”

“I’m already as awake as can be,” Van sighs. “Might as well go far a late-night hike.”

Lottie bites on the inside of her cheek. “I’m joining in.”

“Great. Get dressed then.” Taissa is already on the move before she’s finished talking. Van and Lottie flit after her through the packed floor. Most of the JV girls are rubbing their eyes and trying — or pretending — to go to sleep again. The exceptions are Akilah and Crystal, both with Misty as she tries to work around a very disgruntled Shauna to whom Jackie is still stuck.

The trio on a search-and-rescue mission raids the communal closet for sweaters and coats, and take a lantern each to light the way. Van hesitates for a moment at the door, silently raising the option to take the gun with them, but Taissa shakes her head and takes the ax instead.

“A gun isn’t going to do us any good in the dark.”

“I wouldn’t say that. You were a good shot with the flare gun.”

Taissa smiles, and turns towards the group, more or less addressing Akilah. “Make sure nothing stupid happens while we’re gone.”

Akilah nods with determination. At that, the group leaves the cabin and steps into the night.

Coach Ben must be sleeping through the noise, as his bedroom door stays closed. The JVs have turned over on their mats, and Misty has at last backed off after checking each and every part of Jackie to make sure there is nothing that could cause trouble later. She said something about how easy it is to get frostbite in this environment, but saves the rest for another time. The only issue that left them with was that the ground floor was not the most comfortable place to sleep right now. Besides the hard floor, there is also the lingering hostility against Jackie.

“C’mon, Jackie,” Shauna complains as she and Akilah try to get her back on her feet so that they can make their way upstairs. She needs a shoulder on either side for support, which is, according to Shauna, a bit much, but Misty is of the opinion that they can’t be careful enough. Shauna gets it. She’s seen Jackie in much worse states than this, and she knows how to deal with them most of the time. Carrying her upstairs like they’re coming home from a rager that ended with another break-up of her and Jeff wasn’t really in the cards out here, or so Shauna had thought. Akilah helps her all the way while Misty watches from the ladder.

“I’m sure they’ll come around in the morning,” the JV girl says, as if Shauna isn’t part of ‘them’. As if she wasn’t the instigator of this whole situation. Jackie curls up on the mat and hogs the blanket over her still trembling form, prompting Shauna to tug it away with renewed irritation. Akilah can only spare them a sad glance, but doesn’t comment on it. She goes down the ladder and past Misty, who remains on guard until Shauna settles in beside Jackie with a roll of her eyes. It’s stupid. They’re inside, they’re safe, and they’re relatively warm. When the lowest step of the ladder creaks under Misty’s weights stepping off it, Shauna lets go of the breath she’s been holding in.

“We don’t have to talk about things now,” Shauna says as the wind whistles sharply through the crack in the attic’s window.

It’s not like Shauna even wants to talk about it now, in the middle of the night and in not exactly the best place in the world to put all your cards on the table. Or maybe it is the perfect opportunity; free of judgement and rules and expectations. They were all keeping up appearances, after all. But Jackie stays silent. She’s not said much of a full word since entering the cabin again. It could be for the better with the tension as high as it still is. Then again, Jackie’s not usually the kind to keep her mouth shut for long. Not unless—

“Is it that bad?” Shauna can’t help but ask. It’s been rare, especially in recent years, ever since they had found their ways of avoiding Mrs. Taylor as much as possible. Shauna can see her eyes shine in the faint light as she looks up at the ceiling. There’s not much exciting there, and Jackie must agree, as she turns away and with her back to Shauna.

“I’m fine,” Jackie finally answers.

So much for an olive branch. Shauna turns on her side too with a huff. It’s fine. It’s great! If Jackie wants to keep this thing up and be immature, then Shauna can play the long game. She’s pretty confident of her endurance after all these years of being around Jackie. She knows that she won’t cave first and come crawling back for some sort of nice social interactions under the guise of a casually extended invite to go to the mall with Lottie and Taissa. It’ll probably go like that here, too. But instead of sitting at the food court, they’re sharing home-made bear jerky at a campfire. The dark glass of the window doesn’t show the snow falling outside. Only the moonlight is visible in the crack that branches through it like a lightning bolt. Jackie doesn’t feel that cold anymore, even when they’re only touching with their backs together. The chill was there in the jacket and on her shoes. It had worried Misty only briefly, which out here was one of the greatest responses one could receive at this point. Shauna worries about Natalie, instead, and even a bit about Travis. Maybe the most about Javi, though. Doomcoming only comes back to her in fragments, but she can remember having seen him outside of their party spot. It’s not enough to find her way back to, and she doubts that he stayed in one place, especially with the snow falling. If Taissa were here, she could talk to her about it. Had Shauna been alone, she would have taken her journal out and written her thoughts on the invaluable slips of paper. There’s only Jackie, and that, for once, is the exact reason why she’s stuck with leaving all this to simmer in her own head.

“If it gets too heavy, if they don’t find shelter, they could die out there.”

It’s too loud in the dark room. The silence that meets Shauna has her longing for a night light to make sure that she’s not in some endless abyss. There’s the bright crack on the windowpane that forms the only thing to hold on to, since Jackie doesn’t offer her any comfort with softly-spoken words or a hand to hold. Maybe that was to be expected. The insinuation was there. Briefly, Shauna’s thoughts entertain themselves by trying to remember if there is such a thing as murder through negligence, and if she could live with that knowledge. When she dwells upon uncomfortable ideas of her future, she resigns herself to sleep.

And dreams of summer.

The snow crunches softly under their feet as Lottie, Van, and Taissa make their way through the trees. Natalie and Travis have been out here for some hours, but if they are searching for Javi, they can’t have gotten far yet. Lottie puts hope out of it. Nat isn’t stupid. She would turn back towards shelter if she’d seen the snow falling. Yet, though she can’t know for sure, it has been snowing for a while now.

The woods are also different. Lottie still has to find a way to tune into it, or to listen with more clarity so that she can decipher its calls without leading to the disaster of Doomcoming. She’s keeping it to herself for now. With Van, she wouldn’t mind sharing her thoughts, but Taissa in the mix makes her hesitate. She knows that there is no convincing Tai, but there is a difference around them now. Not just the snow, though it may be part of it. No, it is in how quiet everything is. As if it is patiently observing and biding its time. It makes Lottie hopeful of Natalie’s safety, but other than that, it’s not exactly reassuring. It might just have something planned for them in the future.

The snow has also erased any tracks that they would otherwise follow. They don’t shout names because Van is still anxious about any wolves lurking around, and who could blame her? The snow falls softly and steadily, leaving cold patches in Lottie’s face as she glances around. She can’t believe that Nat and Travis would just stay out here, and then it hits her.

“We should check the plane,” Lottie half-shouts ahead at Van and Taissa. “Maybe they took shelter there from the snow.” Those two would know their way there on the back of their hand, even in the dark. Lottie is sure that she could, too, be it for different reasons. Tai and Van stop in front of her, contemplating it.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Taissa decides, now looking to Lottie for directions.

“It should be this way.” She points to their left, and they follow as she leads the way.

They go past the lake; its water calm under the dark sky. What would they do if it freezes over? Could they still try to fish if the ice grows too thick? The pebbles of the shore are slippery from the thin layer of snow, almost causing Van to slip if Taissa wasn’t there to catch her.

“If they’re not in the plane,” Taissa says, “we should consider turning back. It’s useless to walk around in the dark if we don’t know what exactly we’re looking for.”

“I’m not leaving them behind, Taissa,” Lottie answers, perhaps a bit more harshly than she intended. “I don’t want them to die when it can be avoided.”

“But Jackie is the exception?”

Lottie stops, turning on her heels so sharply that Van almost walks into her. “What do you mean by that?”

“You told coach to stay out of it. Clearly you had no problem with her leaving, so cut the crap on not wanting people to die all of a sudden.”

“Tai, I didn’t know it was going to snow.”

Taissa takes a step forward, looking up at Lottie. “We’re in the fucking woods, Lott. There’s wolves, there’s bears. They have no problem coming near us, and I doubt you’re stupid enough to forget that.”

Lottie bites her lip. Van is ready to step in, that much she can see. “This isn’t the time to discuss hypotheticals, Tai,” she says, and continues on her way to the plane. She can hear Tai mumble something to Van, but their steps follow her, regardless. Her fingers have grown cold from the exposure. Lottie’s trusty cow-spotted coat has pockets, but they only help for a little while. She has to grab onto trees to climb up the steep slopes of the hills that flow away from the lake and towards the crash site. It’s a good idea of Nat, if she went here. Though less comfortable than the cabin, the remnants of the plane could function as an outpost. With winter finally knocking at their door, they would need to think of a plan, a structure, something to fall back on when their environment will be less trustworthy.

A gust of cold leaps over the hills and right into her face to punctuate it. The lantern in Lottie’s hand flickers, but stays burning. Misty will have a field day when they get back to the cabin. Lottie’s legs carry her forward in leaps that are surprisingly steady on the loose earth of the hillside. Taissa and Van half-slip in their attempt to keep up, but as Lottie spots the debris up ahead, there’s nothing in the cutting wind that can hold her back.

“Nat!”

A stray piece of metal almost catches her foot, but Lottie’s reaction is fast. It’s what Coach had always admired in her; her footwork. She thinks of him as she passes by the tree. The wind blows harder in the clearing around the plane, and then disappears all of a sudden when Lottie reaches the cover of the plane. The entry through the back is still open, freeing the way for her lantern’s light to bring forth the rows of seats from the darkness. The metal bar is still lodged through those on the right side of the plane. She counts from the front one on the left to retrace her own spot. Laura Lee’s. Nat was on the other side and—

“Lottie?” Her pale phase pops up from the top of a seat, and Travis is soon beside her. “How the fuck did you get here?”

“I walked.”

“Sure, but—Jesus, what the fuck is this weather?”

“I don’t know,” Lottie says as she steps further inside. It’s not really warmer in the plane’s interior, it just feels that way now that the wind is gone. “We saw that it was snowing. You didn’t come back.”

“Do we have a curfew now?” Nat jokes in that dry tone of hers.

“I wanted to make sure you were safe.” Lottie sets the lantern down as she leans on an arm rest. She briefly glances to Travis, but he, unlike Taissa, doesn’t seem eager to point out any contradiction here.

“Did you find Javi?” he asks her instead. “We’ve been searching for hours. If it’s snowing, he must want to come back, right?”

Lottie shakes her head faintly. “It’s too dark. Taissa didn’t want to lose focus too much.” It’s not exactly an excuse, but she does use it as such. It’s not the time to look for Javi, too. Taissa had a point about it being useless while it is dark, especially with how under-dressed they are for this kind of weather, not in the least Nat and Travis.

“Thank fuck you guys are here,” Van groans as her and Tai enter the plane. “Ready for a hike? We don’t want to risk it getting any worse out there.”

Lottie shucks off her cow-pattern coat to hand it to Natalie. Reluctantly, and muttering curses the entire time, she puts it on. Van takes off a sweater for Travis so that they’re all even on the layers to keep the cold out, and without sparing any more words, they start on the trek back to the cabin.

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” Crystal whispers. She and Misty are sitting at the fire. Someone has to keep it going for when the rest returns.

“Well, yeah, clearly Lottie knows how to find them.” Misty pushes at her glasses and averts her face to keep her face from showing too much. She’s worried. Worried about Natalie; worried about Lottie. Travis and Javi too, she supposes, but noticeably less so. It’s not that she would want them to die out there, but, well, she would be less devastated by such news. It’s a hard world that they landed in. As much as she wants to keep everyone alive, she was not naïve to not think of the inevitable lost causes. Her father had talked about it. Sometimes people were beyond help, as much as you would want to patch them up. The best you could do was to make the rest as easy for them as possible.

If Jackie had come inside, say, half an hour to an hour later, her approach would have been different. Taking the ax to Ben’s leg had been an impulsive, but not a wrong idea. Frostbite could be nasty. It could crawl into the body and destroy it from within. Not much to be done about it if it got too far, but quick action is always key in these cases. But things were fine. There were now, and they would hopefully be for much longer.

“Do you think,” Crystal begins again. “Do you think we’ll get through it? Winter, I mean.” Loaded question.

“Winter is the hardest season for any animal to survive.”

“We have shelter, and Lottie killed the bear…”

“It will help, but we need a plan.” The fire is hard on her eyes as Misty keeps her eyes on the flames. “It won’t last forever.”

“What? Winter or—”

Crystal is interrupted by the door to the cabin opening again. Five figures stumble in and close the entry so the icy wind can’t blow into their space for long. The dozing girls sprawled out over the floor groan at the draft. Some stir enough to sneak a peek at the group that has returned, but otherwise pay little interest. The highlight of the evening has already passed through, after all.

“Fuckin’ hell…” Natalie rushes over to the hearth to warm herself at the fire. Her arms tremble as she holds them out as far as she can, but hisses a breath through her teeth as the heat stings in her veins. “Do not—!” she quickly raises a finger up at Misty trying to scoot closer. “We’re good. Cold as fuck, but good, okay?”

“You can say that, but we gotta make sure.”

“I’m sure that can wait till tomorrow,” Natalie says, in a tone that demands no response.

“Did you find Javi?” Crystal asks the others instead. Van, Lottie, and Taissa share looks, but all shake their heads.

“It’s no use trying looking for him tonight,” Taissa replies. “We’ll try again tomorrow. He’s a smart kid,” she says as she passes by Travis to give him a hand on the shoulder, “and I’m sure he’ll take shelter somewhere.” But instead of being reassured, Travis’ face flickers with doubt, fear, and anger. Misty can relate to it. Once, a pet parakeet of hers — Nero — had flown out of an open window. She’d taken great issue with her mother saying that it was worthless to go look for the little bird, that it was probably doing alright with the sparrows and robins in the trees. Misty was all too aware that the chances of her confidant being turned into an afternoon snack for a cat or a bigger bird were much higher. Javi was not a bird, of course, but he was just as much a small thing in an unwelcome and unknown environment.

“We should try to get some sleep,” Taissa concludes. “Tomorrow we need to come up with some kind of game plan.” She kicks off the snow-covered boots and chugs them into a corner of the room. Briefly, she looks back at Van, who tilts her head at Natalie by the fire. There’s some more being said beyond what Misty could make out of their gestures and faces, but it ends with Taissa going up the ladder to the attic by herself as Van settles in next to Natalie by the fire while Lottie and Travis retreat to their usual cod.

“So, did any of you see Hackers last year?

Shauna snores. It’s barely there, not the harsh, growly snores that Taissa’s dad can pull off when he falls asleep in front of the TV, but she does it. Maybe ‘loud breathing’ would be a better descriptor. In any case, it informs Taissa that her roommate in the spooky attic is fast asleep as she hoists herself up onto the floor. It’s not much warmer than outside up here, but at least the wind is gone. What can worm its way inside at Lottie’s window doesn’t leave much of a draft. As her eyes grow used to the dark, Taissa notes, to her great annoyance, that Jackie is crashing here for the night.

Even worse, Jackie is still awake. On her side and facing the entryway where the ladder sits, she saw Taissa the moment she put a hand in the attic. Shauna must’ve turned over in her sleep — because Taissa can’t think of her snuggling up to Jackie this soon after their whole falling out — as her half-snores are muffled through Jackie’s hair. Taissa stands there, holding out her hands to invite a quip, a comment, but gets nothing.

“You know I never wanted you to stay out there,” Taissa whispers instead. She makes her way over to her own blanket and changes into a set of pajamas so that she can put the rest of her clothes out to dry. “I even told her she should talk to you, but you’re both too stubborn for your own good. Literally. I guess we’re all lucky to not have someone dead on our hands already.”

“I guess we are,” Jackie agrees. From the sound of it, she’s turning over, cutting their conversation very short. Taissa shrugs it off and settles into her own spot. Jackie being here feels like an intrusion on her space. Not that there are any ‘dibs’ or ‘private properties’ to speak of out here, but still. Jackie isn’t an attic dweller like Shauna and her. Jackie scoffs and pulls her nose up at cobwebs; she toes around a suspiciously dark-looking spot on the floor; she’d rather wear the same outfit for weeks than share any of her stuff with others. Point is: Jackie would not be up here, but the exception to every one of her rules is Shauna Shipman.

 The blanket isn’t anywhere near as comfortable as what Taissa’s used to at home, but after their hike out in the cold, she is grateful for the itchy fabric that she can pull up to under her chin. Muffled conversation comes up through the floor, Shauna snores, and a distant owl hoots. Winter is here, but it did not take them by surprise just yet. It will be hard. It has already been so hard, but so far they have managed. Whatever is to come lies in the future, and tonight, Taissa just wants to sleep.

Like Shauna, she dreams.

But her dreams are different when that other part of her wakes in the real world. The problem is that Taissa only notices it after she’s really woken up. In the same way that a dream seems real to everyone as they are still asleep, so too does Taissa not bat an eye at her movie night with Van being joined by copies of her, of Van, even of the rest of the team. She protests when one of the Jackies wants to change the tape that’s on next, but at least two Vans make a comment that she can’t help but laugh at. Thankfully, it’s not crowded in the basement of her house. Lottie is talking to another of herself and passes a cigarette back and forth. Taissa should really be adamant about the no-smoking rule that her parents have, but can’t really bring herself to do it. The atmosphere is good, if she ignores herself smiling back from across the room in that unsettling way. The movie is a blur, literally, but Taissa knows it’s supposed to be funny, as even Shauna laughs heartily at it. A bowl of popcorn is shared around the room and the many hands as a latecomer comes bounding down the stairs, and another Jackie opens the door, stopping in the doorway with a look of genuine surprise. Her eyes flit from head to head until they find Taissa, which only seems to confuse her more.

“Where the fuck are we?” she asks, but Taissa wakes up just as she opens her mouth to reply.

She’s outside again. The snow cuts into her bare feet. The darkness would have been an expanse around her, had it not been lightened by the blanket of white. It’s stopped falling from the sky, but with how deep her feet are into the snow, it spewed out quite some inches. Taissa catches her breath, finding support on a tree close to her. The night is quiet around her, and it takes a moment to orient herself, but then she seems to pick up on some marker in the shape of an odd rock. She’s close enough to the cabin, but she strayed from the path. As Taissa straightens herself up for the walk back — and the oncoming worry from Van — her fingers find grooves in the bark, too geometrical to be natural. Her hand brushes away the snow that sticks to the side of the tree, and there, under her palm, is that symbol again.

Chapter Text

Getting out of Shauna’s grip is the hard part. Despite being certain that everyone in the attic is fast asleep, Jackie is careful with her movements. The arm drops down when she slides from underneath it, but it’s fingers search on the blanket like the last twitching of a dying body. The ladder creaks faintly as she catches her movement on time and skips the offending step. Jackie weaves through the sleeping bodies on the floor, and opens the door to greet the dawn.

Though the snow is much thicker, it is not as cold now as the night before. The early morning sun glitters on the smooth expanse just outside of the porch. The campfire is only visible because of some of its grey rocks stick stubbornly through the white. Other than that, the first disturbance of the scene comes from the soft crunch as Jackie walks over to the spot and pulls out the frozen blanket from beneath the snow. It’s stiff, but not comically so. Without much reason for it, Jackie turns her head to look up at the window that provides a view from the attic. Nobody stands there to watch her. She’s about to go back inside, but spares another look at the campfire to make sure that nothing else was left behind. The lighter she brought with her inside, and anything else might be covered with snow unless she starts digging.

Yet…

With a closer look, Jackie can see small divots in the snow. Layers of fallen flakes have smoothed out the shape, but their even spacing and consistent size still make them easily identifiable as tracks of someone — or something — having come through this space last night. The track goes from the woods almost straight to the fire, and turns back from there. It’s with direction; not the aimless wandering of a sniffing animal. That, or it got scared off. Maybe it was a deer, late for the trek to warmer places. Maybe it was a wolf, sniffing out their scent in the otherwise barren expanse of its hunting grounds. Maybe it was—

“Careful, or Misty just might have to chop something off from you.”

Jackie turns around sharply at Nat’s voice coming from the cabin, but doesn’t rush her greeting. “When did you get back?” But it comes out more as a formality than an actual question of care.

Nat huffs, a cloud shooting from her mouth. “We got picked up by the rescue rangers. Tried to sit it out at the plane.” She steps off the porch and comes to stand near Jackie. “Lottie told me a bit about what happened yesterday while Travis and I were away. Your fight with Shauna?” she elaborates when Jackie raises an eyebrow at her.

“A lot happened yesterday. Sorry if I’m not keeping track.”

“Well you should. This isn’t the place where you can talk it out over a milkshake, Jackie. And from what I heard, and what I know, you’re gonna have to put in some effort if you want to get friendly with Shipman again.”

“Hm…” Jackie’s eyes flit to the attic window. Still nothing.

“Or don’t. It’s none of my business, and I like to keep it that way.”

Jackie kicks at the snow. It flurries through the air and sinks back into itself without sound. “Do you ever feel like,” she says, “the world is just happening around you. Like nothing you do can change it, but it’s not like that matters, anyway.”

She doesn’t dare to look immediately at Nat to see her reaction. Keeping her eyes away isn’t doing anything, though, as Nat responds with a scoff and a chuckle.

“Only all the damn time, Jackie. That’s life.” A shiver rolls up Nat’s spine as she takes the first steps back towards the cabin. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m not built for this kind of weather.” She kicks the snow off her boots on the porch and closes the door behind her. Jackie, however, remains where she’s standing. It’s not that cold right now. Her toes sting, but not in the way that Misty was so worried about. A feeling pulls her head up once again, and her eyes find the attic window, this time seeing Shauna look down from behind the frosty glass. Her expression is smooth and unreadable. It was already hard to decipher what she’d been thinking yesterday, and that’s probably not going to change today. Whatever. Two can play at that game. With a sigh, Jackie turns her back on the tracks at the campfire ashes, and follows Natalie inside.

The lack of sleep from yesterday must help most of them get up at this early hour. Whether they pulled all-nighters or had a power nap, almost all the Yellowjackets are present in the living room of the cabin. Lottie looks up when Jackie closes the door and drops the frozen blanket in a corner. She doesn’t greet her, instead following with her eyes as Jackie goes to the ladder in the pantry, hesitates, and takes a seat on the floor instead. She glares briefly at Lottie to get her to back off, and takes in what the rest is doing on this fine morning in the wilderness.

Taissa is sitting with Van at Coach Ben’s side. Tai is throwing up an idea with that way of carrying herself that emits natural leadership. Van nods along at points, and Coach takes everything in with a glazed look. Boring, what’s next? Misty is engaged in a discussion with Crystal about one of the musicals that they like so much. Next. Mari is heating up water at the hearth. Akilah is at her side while Gen and Melissa linger somewhere behind her. Mari seems to acknowledge Jackie in the slightest of ways, sparing her few glances. Next. Natalie sits with Travis at another end of the cabin. Their conversation is too soft to overhear, but Travis looks as defeated and out of it as Coach is. Back to Lottie, who also shifts her eyes around to take in the situation inside the cabin.

The ladder creaks. When Jackie turns her head, there is Shauna once again. The girl’s jaw steels when she catches her looking, and walks right past her to sit closer to Van and Taissa. The latter stands up, but not before briefly putting a hand on Shauna’s shoulder. Because they’re such good friends now.

“Okay everyone,” Taissa claps her hands briefly to get the attention. “We all know by now that it has snowed, and not the kind that melts away after a day. It’s winter, and in our condition, that’s a pretty serious thing we should plan around.” There’s a murmur coming from Mari’s corner, but not enough to disturb Taissa’s message. “I came up with a couple of things we can and should take care of.” She looks to Shauna for a second, who first seems like she wants to dodge something, but with a slight shove from Van, pulls out her journal from within the vest she’s wearing. Pencil at the ready, she takes notes as Taissa goes over their tasks to prepare for the season.

So, on the first winter morning in the wilderness, the following list is nailed on the inside of the cabin door.

- find and close any openings in walls and windows

- make an inventory of remaining food supply

- scavenge plane for materials

- make freezer out of shed out back for bear. find a way to put a door on it

- forage remaining plants

- map the area

- look for javi

Van drags her feet through the snow amidst the rest of the group that is on scavenging duty. She can barely remember this route from last night; the snow is thicker and the light changes everything. Cold fluff has filled the tracks that they left behind yesterday. Nat is sure of her directions, though, and Van follows dutifully behind her along with Mari, Jackie, Melissa, and Gen. Akilah is out foraging with Lottie, Misty, and Crystal, while Coach Ben, Travis, Taissa, and Shauna are at it in the cabin with buckets of moss. Van would rather have stuck behind with Taissa, but there is something about being in the fresh outside air again. The landscape is crisp, not just in the way the cold burrows up her nose, but also the sounds and sights of it. They pass the lake, and though it’s not frozen over, there are patches of white drifting on its still waters. Van went skating, once. But that’s from a different life.

Mari’s chatter with Melissa and Gen fills in the spot behind her, and with Nat at the helm to lead the way of their group of hikers, Van falls into step beside Jackie. Taissa had mentioned something about “doing damage control”. Not in the public meeting, of course, but she mentioned in private afterward that it was the reason she was staying behind with Shauna. Whenever these two had a fight back home, it had simply been a matter of sitting it out and waiting for the inevitable moment that one would extend a hand to the other. Out here, that was different; not just the scale, but also the place they had found themselves in. There was hardly any privacy to speak of where one could work through their feelings. Nonetheless, Van decides that it’s better to first dip a toe in before taking a dive into that whole topic.

“So, did you get any sleep last night?” she asks as nonchalantly as she can. Jackie keeps her hands stuffed in her borrowed coat. It’s checkered, with a fur lining. Does this one belong to Travis? It’s big on her, but certainly keeps her warm. She keeps looking ahead as she breathes out a reply.

“Not much. Did you?”

“No. It was nasty cold out here, couldn’t get it out of my system, or something.”

Jackie hums. “Nat says you guys came and got her. Was it that rough out here?”

“Ha!” Van gestures around them. “Do you see how much this place changed overnight?”

Jackie shrugs, a bit embarrassed.

“But yeah, that plane might be sturdy, but you’re not gonna keep yourself warm there in just a t-shirt.”

“It wasn’t my plan to take a vacation there, Van,” Natalie throws at them from ahead.

Van rolls her eyes. Not that anybody sees it.

They almost miss the plane in this white-on-white landscape. The lipstick SOS message left on the wreckage is covered by a layer of snow on the brink of sliding off the plane, and there is a brief discussion on whether they should try to remove it before Melissa and Gen try their best at it on each other’s shoulders. The rest take stock of what is left in the interior of the crash debris. They tear the seats off to get at the stuffing, cut the covering into strips, and remove the seat-belts as intact as they can. Natalie goes into the cockpit to see if there is anything useful in there, but the compass that they took with them months before seems like the most valuable they could have looted. The stuffing from the seats, however, is still much appreciated. Mari pulls out some extra blankets from somewhere, and Jackie finds a small first-aid kit that they overlooked at an earlier search round. All in all, not a bad haul.

Once they have everything collected that they can take back, Van catches Natalie standing over the door that they bashed open during the crash. She wonders if it brings back the same for Natalie. Smoke. Fire. The smell of burning flesh.

“What are you thinking of?”

Nat rakes a hand through her hair, thinking. “I don’t know if we can take it right now, but this might make a good door for the shed that Taissa was talking about. It’s gonna have to be able to keep any scavengers out. The metal is the best we can get out here.”

“Sounds good, but, Nat,” Van looks unsure at their current team standing with their hands full, “I think it’s better that we come back for it later. We can bring some rope, maybe pull it back?”

Nat nods. “Yeah. It’s not like it’s going anywhere.” She turns back to the rest, and Van can almost fill in the ‘Yellowjackets, with me!’, were it not for Jackie standing meekly in the clearing, looking off into the woods.

“Come on, we’re losing daylight here,” Nat says to them.

Today is shaping up to be a surprising game of musical chairs.

Shauna’s knees ache from sitting on the floor so much. She shifts another inch to the side to plug up the next hole with some moss, and from the corner of her eye can see that Taissa is watching over her with that mothering expression. Haha, how funny. The irony isn’t lost on Shauna, but Taissa really is  what she’d always thought a good friend should strive for: caring and involved. Concerned, but not overbearing. That’s already a great difference. Jackie would’ve made a fuzz about Shauna and her knees and that fucking baby inside her and its wellbeing. She would pamper Shauna and make sure that nobody else lowered the bar that she’d put up. Taissa, however, lets Shauna maintain a sense of autonomy in all this. It would be interesting to see how all these new dynamics in their group would shift how they treated her. Because Shauna isn’t helpless. She wants to be useful. She could be useful. Now more than later, but later isn’t something to worry about yet.

“I think we should be done on this floor soon enough,” Coach notes. He looks around the cabin with a careful smile poking through on his face. “Do you,” he looks between Shauna and Taissa, “Do you girls think you can do the attic? Since that is your space.” He closes his sentence with a quick glance at the sulking Travis in his assigned corner, picking at moss and not really doing anything else with it. Message received.

“Sure, Coach,” Taissa says, and takes her remainder of moss in one hand while she holds the other out to help Shauna get up on her feet. She also has Shauna take the ladder upstairs first, but follows close behind. The attic is colder, but hopefully that can be helped with some stuffing. Taissa wordlessly begins at one end of the attic, as Shauna crouches down at the other window. They work in silence until they get closer together in the middle of the floor.

“I’ve done it again. Last night,” Taissa whispers. Shauna doesn’t know what it is at first, but then realization hits.

“Like… back then? It’s been months, though, right?” She sits properly on the floor, and Taissa mirrors her, fidgeting with her fingers.

“Yes, and I don’t know what brought it on this time. I was just outside, in the snow, and—” Taissa cuts herself off. “I could find my way back. Van was worried, as I expected, but it didn’t get anyone in danger at least.”

“Tai, I…” Shauna bites her lip. “What about you? You can’t walk out there in this fucking cold in your pajamas.”

“I know, and I’m going to do something about it.” Shauna watches as Taissa takes a piece of moss and jams it into the roof.

“Do you—do you want to tell Jackie about it? If she’s staying up here?”

Taissa stops and shoots her a look. “Is she?”

Jackie didn’t even sleep up here before all this went down. Last night was a first, but that doesn’t have to mean that it will happen again. Shauna remembers waking up and feeling that empty space beside her even before she had fully opened her eyes. Jackie had stumbled last night, but already started carving a path to do whatever she wanted.

“I don’t know. I’ll ask her later?” Shauna says it like she isn’t even sure if she’s going to do actually do that herself. “I just thought you should consider it. If she’s staying up here, she will notice it at some point. If this becomes a habit, that is.”

“Ugh, please don’t make me think of that.”

They continue with the DIY insulation in relative silence. For a moment, they regard their work with pride, until Taissa breaks the silence.

“Shauna, do you want her to stay up here?”

Shauna wants many things. She wants warmth, a hug, a friend, a conspiring whisper, a secret shared in the dark. She wants things that she can’t share with Taissa.

“Well see by tonight,” she answers instead.

Lottie is sure that this is the last fruit they will taste for many more weeks to come. Most berries had already been picked, or had fallen and rotted away in the month prior. The handful that they manage to forage together is pathetic, but nonetheless vital to add to their rations. Akilah has guided them to all the spots where something edible was to be found, but today they find even less than the days before the snow.

“We have to be thorough,” Akilah says, and it’s the first time that there is something of a stern tone in her voice. Like she is the varsity player, and they are the JVs that need to be commanded. “Whatever we don’t find today will rot for sure. This is an actual matter of one berry making the difference.” She’s surrounded herself with a good bunch, in that regard. Misty is certain to take this seriously, and Crystal will follow her example. Lottie tries to make herself as useful as possible, but… gets distracted by other things she finds in the wood.

They agreed to spread out over small sections, and so try to comb through the nearby area of the cabin and all the well-known foraging spots. Lottie hasn’t strayed far, but she knows that she’s pushing it. While she keeps an eye out for any of the plants that Akilah described, most of her focus is on the string of prints that lead further into the trees. The trail is narrow, and though snowfall has made them less defined, she’s almost certain that they are hooves. She might take Natalie back out here to take a look at them. It could mean a lot, if there is still something to hunt out here.

“Lottie!”

She quickly stands up from her crouch, turning around just in time to face Misty as she makes her way through the twigs surrounding them.

“Don’t go too far. It’s easy to get lost out here,” Misty almost seems to scold her.

“I wasn’t going anywhere,” Lottie replies to her, calm, but not without a warning to it. Sometimes Misty is like a puppy who needs to be barked at every once in a while to know where the line is drawn. “There’s not much left here, anyway. I think we might need to head back to the cabin soon. The others should be coming back from the plane.”

“Hope they like our fruit salad,” Misty snorts, but quickly changes her face when the joke of it doesn’t seem to land very well. “I mean, I’m sure Mari will make the best of it.”

The two of them return to the starting point of their latest comb. Akilah looks over their findings once again: a handful of berries, nuts, and some plants that they can tie together and spice up their stew with. It isn’t hasty to say that their food for the winter would largely hinge on how long they could last with just the bear, and whatever Nat and Travis might be able to shoot down. Still, prospects aren’t looking too good.

“We could try for another round tomorrow, but like I said…” Akilah carefully offers. She doesn’t finish her sentence, nor does the rest need to hear it. It’s hoping that they can check the other tasks on the list with more confidence. It would do good for the morale, or so Lottie can hear her dad say.

(Have faith, but most of all, keep hope) that one is more comforting.

“We have to head out here again to map the area. I’m sure it’s not much to ask anyone that goes into the woods to look for anything edible they can bring back.”

“I hope so,” Akilah says softly.

Tufts of green line the edges of the windows when they arrive back at the cabin. Melissa and Gen watch as Taissa shows them how to handle the ax to chop some firewood. Lottie looks for Natalie, but can’t find her amidst the others inside. “She went back to the plane,” Shauna says from a corner of the room. “They found a door for the shed. Took some rope and invited Travis along to drag it back here.”

“Ah, okay.”

Shauna doesn’t ask any further. Instead, she puts herself back into the one book that had survived the crash that isn’t her own journal or Akilah’s study guide. Could the porn mags be considered literature? The stack of them is still more or less complete when she goes to grab a jar from the pantry to put the berries and nuts in that they found. Lottie isn’t sure if the paper could be useful. The glossy texture doesn’t seem right for kindling. Maybe she could ask Akilah about that too. Other than that, there’s not much to do but sit somewhere, have some hot water, and wait for Natalie to come back.

The Wilderness is quiet. The only thing she can discern of it is a faint humming in the distance, coming closer and closer.

“Do you guys need to whistle while you fuckin’ work? Use your backs a little!”

It’s not Natalie’s intention to channel dear old Coach Martinez, but this is getting pathetic. They’ve made some progress, but that’s all that can be said about it. They’ve tied all the rope they had around the door and started pulling it like horses in front of a plow. Three at a time, with two more on standby so that they can switch out and take small breaks. Van needs to take it easy with her stitches, but the rest doesn’t have an excuse to half-ass this effort. They’ve only just reached the lakeside, which will make for smoother terrain, but there is still a long way to go. Dusk is approaching, and Nat was stupid enough to forget the gun at the cabin.

“Come on, Mari, put some weight into it,” Nat snaps to her side. Mari huffs, lowering her voice but keeping the venom in it clear to taste.

“Why don’t you say that to little miss princess back there?” She nods her head back at Jackie walking beside Van.

“Because when Jackie pulls, we don’t slow down.”

Mari opens her mouth to speak, but it closes again when she thinks the better of it. Good. Nat isn’t picking favorites here; Jackie actually seems like she’s trying for once. Maybe that falling out with Shauna was good for something.

“Jackie, how about you switch with Mari here!” Nat calls back, and they stop for a minute so those two can swap out. Travis wipes the sweat off his forehead. It must feel cold in this weather, but otherwise, this is a good way to keep themselves warm. With some groaning, they get moving again. Sometimes the door catches onto a rock under the snow and makes an awful piercing shriek, but they keep pushing through it. Van switches with Travis, Nat switches with Mari, and so the cycle continues. The ones not holding the ropes either give directions, or move any obstacles out of the way. When there is nothing to do but watch how the door slowly moves in the direction of the cabin, they chat. That is, Van, Natalie, and Mari talk the most. Jackie only says something when spoken to, and Travis is still sulking. It’s not like either of them was bound to be the light of the party, and Nat tries to keep the mood up despite it.

“We can look for him soon. This stuff just has some priority. If we don’t take care of it now, Javi won’t have anything or anyone to return to,” Nat says when she’s on rest with Travis. He scowls, like he does most of the time, but now it comes from being at a loss of words and not refusing to acknowledge that she’s right. Nat knows she is, and she knows that he knows that she is. They get back to pulling when the hill starts to rise from the ground and the weight of the door becomes a whole lot more noticeable. Mari and Jackie bite through their passive-aggressive attitudes towards each other, and together with Travis, while Nat and Van push from below, get the metal plate on the same elevation as the cabin.

The last stretch to their home turf is the fastest, done with that rush of energy of being this close to the end. As soon as they’ve dragged it into the clearing, and the other Yellowjackets have taken notice and come to help with the door, Mari drops the rope and stomps off to the cabin with a loud “UGH!”

The rest take a step back to catch their breath. Lottie and Taissa delegate the others around to have the door set up at the shed. Coach Ben surveys everything from the porch, a glimmer of something — hope, pride, relief — in his eyes. Natalie is about to walk past him when he puts a hand on her shoulder.

“That was a good idea, Nat,” he says, and smiles at her kindly.

“Gee,” she tries to shrug it off, “thanks, Coach.”

“I mean it,” Ben gets out before she can walk away. “It’s what we need out here. Especially now.”

Natalie takes the compliment, even though she doesn’t feel like showing it. She steps further across the porch and into the cabin, where the fire in the hearth brings a pleasant warmth to her exposed face and the raw skin of her hands. Mari has huddled close to the flames, catching up with Akilah on their day as they sip on cups of water. Shauna is in the corner, reading, and something urges Nat to go and talk to her in an effort to break this stupid, childish truce that the girl has put up, but decides not to. Not her circus, not her monkeys. She’s given Jackie some advice, and whatever she does with that is up to her. Right now, Natalie allows herself to be a bit selfish, and goes into what they have dubbed the bathroom to wash her face with some of their clean water.

The cold splashes in her face keep her from falling into that post-exercise slump. She can’t allow herself to kick it back now, not when Travis — and lets be real, Javi — are counting on her. It’s not either of them who becomes her focus, though. In the doorway of the bathroom, with a soft knock, Lottie announces her presence.

“What’s up, Lott?” Natalie greets her as she still brings handfuls of water to her face.

“Wanted to check on how you were doing. Better me than Misty, right?”

“Last time I checked, we were all doing pretty shitty.” Nat turns around to face her, Lottie with her cow-patch jacket and forlorn face. She’s not displaying any of that — frankly intimidating — sense of power that she had at Doomcoming. “But yeah, it might be better than Misty. Except she does know what she’s talking about.”

“Touché,” Lottie admits as she fidgets with her fingers, remaining where she is and keeping eye contact.

“There’s something else, is there?” Nat asks, even though she know enough about Lottie to already have deduced the answer.

“There is. I want to go hunting.”

Not the expected answer. Lottie had that ferocity to her — see, once again, her behavior at Doomcoming — but Nat had never taken her for a full-on hunter. She’d sooner expected Jackie to take the gun and have a go at it.

“Now?” she asks. “Sorry if I’m shitting on your plans, but I didn’t exactly prepare for another hike in the snow, Lott.” Nat can already see it: an hour of collecting frost in her shoes and coming back with nothing that will make it worth it. Most of the animals had started migrating in the past week, and with the sudden cold she doubts that many will take it slow on their trek south. It’s useless, especially with someone as inexperienced as Lottie dragging behind her.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lottie says, and there might be some truth to it, “I know it seems useless, and a waste of energy but—” She shuts herself up. A quick glance is thrown behind her, at the others already sitting or gathering in the living room. She steps back and softly pulls the bathroom door closed behind her. “I know what to look for. When we were foraging, I saw tracks. I think it might be a deer. If we don’t follow them now, they might melt away or get covered when more snow falls.”

“Fuck, Lottie…” The sky outside the window is already darkening. It’s still early in the day, but that doesn’t make the darkness any better to walk around in. “You sure picked the moment to drop this news.”

“I didn’t want to risk of waiting till tomorrow. Who knows what we might lose.”

She’s right. Every bit they can get counts out here, it could make the difference between barely surviving and straight-up starvation and, as shitty as it may be, Nat would take the former any day if it meant staying on this god-forsaken earth a bit longer.

“Okay, fuck. Let me grab the stuff and meet outside in ten.”

Lottie insists on not bringing Travis along, which is easier said than done. When he catches wind of them going for a hunt, he’s eager to join their party, and doesn’t take any simple excuse to keep him from coming along. In the end there is Ben who, for whatever reason, pulls him aside and convinces him to stay at the cabin. Nat is grateful for it, but the feeling grows that she is merely riding on the man’s goodwill towards her. What will she have to show for it?

Whatever Lottie has seen remains a mystery for most of their walk. Nat follows with the gun slung over her shoulder as they retrace the steps that the foraging group took earlier today. With the woods growing dimmer and darker by the minute, they make some wrong turns, but Lottie is confident in wherever she is going once they get back on whatever trail she is following. Natalie is very close to calling it quits. Her fingers are cold, she’s hungry, and there has been no sight of Lottie deer tracks.

“Lott, I hate to ask, but did you really see them?”

Lottie doesn’t stop, or even turn around to answer that. “I did. Trust me on it.”

(Easy for you to say) Natalie feels as conflicted as a few days ago, when Lottie’s deal turned into an immediate threat to someone she cared about. That’s not the case now, but she wonders how long they can go on ignoring whatever is going on with her.

“I didn’t mean it like that, okay? I was just thinking that—”

“Holdup.” Lottie stops and raises a hand. She waits, then crouches down to look closer at the ground.

“Here it is.”

Natalie walks around her, careful of where she steps. The snow is quite visible in the lack of light. The slight holes and slopes, however, are more difficult to make out. It is when Lottie points them out that Natalie notices them; the tracks she had spoken of. When she traces a careful finger along the shape of it, there are the tell-tale shapes and marks of what would make for a decently sized adult stag or doe. Natalie is by no means an expert, but putting Coach’s knowledge to practice, along with some of Akilah’s notes, have made her at the very least able to read prints with some accuracy.

“Holy shit, Lott,” she breathes out.

“I know.” Lottie is proud of herself, if the small smile is anything to go from. “There is one thing though,” she says, and draws a line over the track. “I couldn’t tell this afternoon, but it looks like they are heading north. Not exactly what I was expecting, but it doesn’t have to say anything.”

In theory, Lottie is right. It doesn’t have to mean anything that a deer is heading north for a bit when they should be going south. Something might have directed it there, for one reason or another. Maybe they were trying to get away from something.

“I agree, but it’s good to keep in mind. We don’t know how far north it went.”

Natalie herself is taking a moment to really scrutinize the shape. Something about it rubs her the wrong way.

“Do you think it’s worth tracking?” Lottie asks, but Natalie stands to walk along the track, counting each print as she follows for a few feet. It doesn’t make much sense, and she’d have to check it with Coach or Akilah, but if it is what she thinks it is, then it might be the better idea to not share this with any more people than necessary.

Briefly, even if it wouldn’t be remotely possible, Natalie wonders if the shrooms haven’t left her system yet. It would somehow be more comforting than admitting that what she is seeing is real. If the conclusion she’s drawing is anywhere near correct.

“Lottie,” Natalie says, still puzzling together what all this could mean. “This isn’t a deer.” She crouches down closer, pointing at the tracks and at details that Lottie, for once, seems blind to. “A deer runs way differently. Either this one is seriously sick, or it moves around on two legs.”

Chapter Text

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

THE YOUNG PRINCE, a poor child

THE PERFORMER, renowned for their skill

THE KING, once feared for his power

THE CHORUS, an eager audience

THE WITNESS, a foil to the plan

SCENE ONE

[The Woods. A Place in The Wilderness]

Enter the Young Prince, somewhat distraught.

Young Prince. Is anyone there? Someone?

Enter the Performer.

Performer. Don’t be so loud. What if the wolves hear you?

Young Prince. Ah! [The Young Prince looks startled, but quickly smiles.] I was worried you weren’t coming back. I found the cave, just like you told me. Is it safe to go to the others yet?

Performer. No, sorry. I tried to find them, but these woods are strange.

Young Prince. They are... I hope my brother is looking for me.

Performer. I hope so too. But it is only the first week of winter, they still have time.

Young Prince. I know, but what if he takes too long?

Performer. He won’t. I’m sure you’ll be able to go back to them soon.

Young Prince. What about you?

Performer. Doesn’t matter. We are safe here, and we just need to trust that either we’ll find them, or they find us. It’s that simple.

Young Prince. Nothing seems to go easy in this place.

Performer. You’re right about that. [A pause.] How about you get some rest? We can try again tomorrow.

Young Prince. I guess so…

Exit the Young Prince.

Performer. A shame. He deserves much better.

King. [From somewhere between the trees, in a language not known to the mortal realm.] <Cruelty does not exist with us. He would find comfort here and not suffer as the likes of man do. You would be a fool to deny him this.>

Performer. <He would be alone. Listen, how he loves his brother. I’ve seen the hurt his absence causes. Are there not other ways that we may proceed?>

Chorus. [From the darkness.] <No!>

King. <We may, but in doing so abandon a perfect chance.>

Chorus. <Let us! Let us!>

King. <Silence! One of you may yet walk the earth if they show composure.> [To the Performer.] <Such as you. You were always my best. How you tricked the Hunter.>

Performer. <I merely do as I’m told. But say, can’t I have more time to consider this?

King. I shall allow it for now. Do not disappoint me.>

Exeunt.

Taissa lets out a sigh of relief when she wakes up in the attic. The recent scare was bad enough, and on top of that, she has the idea that on some nights her body does go outside, but simply returns on time before her waking mind can notice it. But today her shoes are dry and she feels like she actually stayed under the blanket for the entire night. She stretches her arms as she sits up. It’s still cold in the attic despite their homemade insulation, but not as bad as outside, at least.

“Good morning,” she grumbles to Jackie, who hums something in response. Tai is glad that none of this new rooming situation goes paired with passive-aggressive sparring in the relative comfort of her own bedroom, but the extra person takes some getting used to. It’s not like they hugged and kissed about it yet — Jackie actually sleeps on a separate mat ever since that first night — but tolerating is progress.

Tai doesn’t stay for small talk with Jackie, though. She makes her way down the ladder and finds half the cabin already up and awake. Natalie and Travis are missing, she notes from a quick sweep across the floor. They likely went out hunting much earlier, when the odds were slightly better at getting some meat for them. Lottie sits at the window like her husband is lost at sea, or something. Or her wife is away with a plane? The jury is still out on that. Her eyes fall on Van next, because of course they do. With Van, she could theorize and have fun about the ‘definitely straight girl’s soccer team that they just happened to be the only two lesbians in’. But Van gives her a wry smile, and doesn’t greet her as excited as she used to.

Winter really is here.

“So how are Thelma and Louise?” Van asks as Taissa sits down to have some pine needle soup thing.

“More like Thelma and Darryl. It’s very much ‘your father and I are gonna sleep in separate rooms for a while’.”

“Yuck,” Van says, but a genuine smile creeps onto her face before her cup obscures it with the next sip. Taissa mirrors the gesture, and for a moment their situation is forgotten.

“What do you want to do today? I was thinking of chopping some more firewood.”

Van nods silently. “Sounds good. I should be good at carrying some tons,” she says, raising her arms as if to flex.

“You should take it easy,” Taissa gives her a playful shove, but softens. “I appreciate the offer, though.”

They leave when the rest goes on to their task of the day. Many things still need to be done to be fully prepared for winter. Shauna stays at the cabin with Ben to double check if the moss-insulation is sticking. Akilah remains there too with Mari to fix their clothes into something more suitable for the winter. Some others get water from the lake, or make a last attempt at foraging. Taissa silently hopes that Natalie and Travis are the ones that bring something back with them because, as she walks with Van through the woods with ax in hand, there’s not a green leaf or mushroom in sight.

“Does this one look good?” Van says when they come across a small tree. It’s not much bigger than they are themselves.

“Pretty much. Can you hold it steady for me?”

Chopping wood is a tiring task. They take two trees down and need to head back already because of the size and weight of them, but also the lack of energy from their recent diet.

On the way back, Van pipes up:

“Do you really think all that Lottie is saying is bullshit?”

“I mean…” Taissa stops and drops the tree she was dragging along to the ground. This isn’t a light conversation, nor does she want to be flippant about it towards Van (Shauna would be different, but that’s not the case here). “I’m just not sure how Lottie’s explanations would make any more sense of what is going on.”

Van doesn’t look offended by that, which is good. Taissa would rather have a philosophical debate than an outright trench war. Especially with Van.

“Wouldn’t it? You can’t deny that something is weird about this place. Too many things have happened to put it all on coincidences.”

“If this is about those dreams that Lottie—”

“No, not just about those dreams,” Van interrupts. “Other things. The seance, the amulet, the symbols, ME,” Van jabs a finger into her sternum. “I don’t know what happened. I should have fucking died, Taissa, but I didn’t. Twice, even. You’re so eager to dismiss Lottie, but I know that it’s not bullshit, okay? I saw things, too.”

“What?” Taissa stills. “When did you…?”

“After the wolves. On the pyre.” Van averts her eyes as if she’s embarrassed. “I didn’t want to talk to you about it because of how you are with Lottie, but I saw something. People, I think.”

She’s waiting for some answer, that much is clear. Taissa keeps it to herself, something like: ‘Are you sure it wasn’t just us standing around you? A hallucination from blood loss?’ But that would only deepen this gap between them. Right now, it is manageable; they can bridge this.

“Please don’t keep things like that to yourself, Van,” she says instead. “We’ve seen what secrets can do out here.” She picks up the tree again and starts dragging it back to camp.

SCENE TWO

[A Hideout between the roots of a tree. The same night.]

The Young Prince waits as he warms his hands at a small fire. Enter the Performer.

Performer. Why are you not sleeping yet? It’s getting late.

Young Prince. I thought I could stay up for you. You’re always gone when I wake up.

Performer. I have other places to be. Sorry if you would like company.

Young Prince. But where do you go? We’re in the woods. There’s nothing else here.

Performer. Just… searching. It doesn’t matter.

The Young Prince yawns.

Performer. See, you’re too tired to even listen to me.

Young Prince. If you say so. Please stay till the morning, I hate being alone out here.

Performer. Of course.

The Young Prince lays his head down to rest on the moss.

Performer. [Once they are sure that the Young Prince is fast asleep.] <Believe me that this isn’t personal. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, or so they might say. Perhaps all of you are. I don’t know how long I can keep the others waiting; I don’t know what I can do if they will involve themselves in this. I doubt I could stop them, even if I wanted to.>

Chorus. [Fewer voices than before. A whisper from deeper in the cavern.] <Are you admitting it?>
<Treachery, treachery, treachery.>

Performer. <There’s nothing you can prove of it, nor do I have such thoughts. I am merely empathetic to his case. Has that ever been a crime?>

Chorus. <Not yet, but be careful. It might just become one.>

Performer. <You’re all just jealous fools.>

Exeunt.

When Natalie and Travis return without a kill, Ben tries not to let it crush his spirit too much. The bear will last them some while, if they keep to the rations, but bringing in more to store in their newly made freezer would make life at least a bit more comfortable out here. If by comfortable one meant living in constant fear of starvation, or merely on a weekly basis. Okay, focus on different things. Right now he has thought of making a start at a bigger map of the area. Shauna isn’t that lenient with providing blank pages from her journal, so right now Ben sits at the table ripping useable pages from a stack of ancient Hustler magazines together with Misty and Jackie. Not exactly how he thought he would spend his time in Seattle.

“Hear this,” Misty snorts, “I hope that the new administration responds to the outrage of American citizens at these abuses by previous executives and that it makes every effort to remain within the bounds that are established in this important section of our Constitution. Perhaps this can be the first step toward eliminating the government’s abuse of power.”

She’s been reading out Larry Flynt editorials for close to an hour now, and Ben might ask her to swap with Mari, whose comments would at least be funny. Jackie is wise enough not to take any of Misty’s bait and ask questions. Instead, she is much more occupied with flipping through the magazines at breakneck speed and still getting slighty flushed on the cheeks.

What a world.

They got a decent stack of paper already, which is good in the long run. As much as he hates to admit it, Ben has no idea of how far their rescue might be away. If it ever comes, of course. Paper to write on isn’t a given anymore, and you never know when you might need it. Such as for moments when you want to make a map.

“I think this is enough for now. Great job,” he says, closing the magazine and trying to ban the images of full-frontal female nudity from his mind.

“No problemo,” Jackie mutters, and slides the chair back to walk off and maybe scream in a pillow upstairs. That’s Ben’s guess, at least.

“Do you think Flynt was being genuine in these editorials? The number of them and the consistency in their anti-government becomes pretty performative after a while.” Misty is still very much invested in the editorial. She barely looks up at him from behind those big glasses before flipping open another magazine.

“I have no idea, Misty. I doubt it really matters right now.”

“Yes, yes, right, of course. What do you think the scale for the map should be?”

That blanks Ben for a second. “Uh… big? We don’t have measuring equipment. My idea would be to find natural markers and make a guess based on walking distance.”

“I suppose that’ll do,” Misty shrugs, leaving the table to bother someone else.

Ben doesn’t get up yet. He closes his eyes, leans back, and thinks of all the what-ifs.

SCENE THREE

[The Woods. A Place in The Wilderness. Some nights later.]

Enter the Young Prince and the Performer, walking calmly between the trees.

Performer. We should be there soon. It’s not much further.

Young Prince. How do you know where we’re going? It’s so dark out here.

Performer. I double checked. Happy now? It’s not any worse than the tree.

Young Prince. [Noticing the Performer’s irritation] I didn’t mean anything with it. I trust you.

The silence continues between them as they walk.

Young Prince. Do you think he’s seen tracks? Travis, I mean. Maybe he knows which direction we went and is coming to find us.

Performer. He knows this place better than most of them, sure.

Young Prince. Especially if Natalie is with him. I’m sure they’ll do anything they can to find us.

Performer. Maybe they’ll find us sooner if we keep up the pace. The weather might not stay this calm for long.

Young Prince. How come you’re in such a rush? There’s nothing that’s gonna help us find our way back faster, right?

Performer. Well, actually I do have— [The Performer stills suddenly.] Quick! Hide somewhere!

Young Prince. [With a rising panic in his voice.] What? Is something coming?

The Performer drags him by the arm in the thick bushes. They hold him close so that he does not have to see what passes on the path they were just walking on.

Performer. I think it’s safe now…

Young Prince. What was it? Some animal?

Performer. No, but we can’t stay around here for long. This is why I told you to hurry.

Young Prince. Sorry… Where do we go now?

Performer. This way.

Exeunt.

Whatever passes for dinner has been served. Meager bites and barely any taste to speak of, but the residents of the cabin eat it up without complaining. Mari eyes Jackie, but a small nudge from Akilah cuts it off.

“Let it go, please,” she whispers.

“She started it. She basically called us crazy bitches not a few days ago.”

Akilah rolls her eyes. “Yeah, but… the mushrooms? She may have had a bit of a point.”

“Could’ve limited the shit talk to Misty. I’d happily have joined her in that,” Mari huffs.

Akilah scoops the remaining food out of her own mug. She likes the quiet moments like these, as if they are all sharing a home and having dinner together. More specifically, it has her remember the large family dinners at home with her sister, and oh, her new nephew would join them, and they would all talk about their lives and laugh and… yeah…

Those were good days. She has to be careful while thinking about them. Sometimes the nostalgia has her approaching the panic that maybe — and the chance is very likely — she might never see them all again. So she huddles closer to Mari, under the excuse of it being cold outside, and tries not to cry.

Later, when they settle in for the night, she can’t help but ask.

“Do you think a rescue team will find us?”

Mari turns over, frowning at first but must sense the very real worry that Akilah feels, and takes her hand.

“Maybe not before winter is over. Nobody would want to fly up here in this weather.”

“Oh…”

“But, you know, they might also think of us out here and try one more time before it really gets cold.”

Akilah sucks in a breath at that. “You think it’s gonna get worse?”

“Well, uh,” Mari chews on her words, “It’s probably not going to get any better.”

“I-I’d rather not think about that.”

“Sorry.” Mari gently wipes her thumb over Akilah’s knuckles. She smiles, looking up with a glint in her eyes. “Hate the hindsight, but man, I wish we hadn’t eaten all that fruit by the foot on the plane.”

“Mari,” Akilah half-laughs. “You’re kidding. It was too good to have it go to waste.”

“I bet we’d have, like, a major advantage because of it.”

“I’m sure your superb culinary skills have already made up for that.”

“Couldn’t have done it without your berries and pinecones and whatever.”

Akilah chuckles, but still hears the very loud and obvious sound of someone rolling over while letting out a big sigh. “Mar, I think we have to shut it.”

“Awh. Boo. Can’t have any fun out here.”

Natalie groans, turning over (again?) somewhere else in the room. “Some of us want to fockin’ sleep. Got that? You can have your tea party in the morning.”

They fall into a fit of giggles and shushes, but in the end, Akilah can find a comfort here, with her hand in Mari’s, warm, despite the wood creaking around them and the fire softly crackling.

Maybe, when she dreams, it will be Christmas.

SCENE Four

[A Lake. A Place in The Wilderness. The same night.]

[The Young Prince and the Performer come through the treeline and see a glittering lake below.]

Young Prince. Hey! I know this! We must be close to the cabin.

Performer. Told you I knew the way. But we’re not there yet. First we need to make it down the hill, then there should be a path we can follow.

Young Prince. How far away were we from the cabin? It’s not even been a whole night.

Performer. You didn’t run for the whole night, did you?

Young Prince. No, I guess that makes sense. But how come they didn’t find us if we were so close?

Performer. Like I said: these woods are strange.

They continue down the hill. Further below them sits a White Moose. It ’s fur shines in the moonlight.

Young Prince. [Amazed.] Look at that!

Performer. Wow, that is a beautiful creature.

Young Prince. Do you think I could…?

He doesn ’t wait for an answer to slowly step closer to the animal. It raises its head calmly to watch him.

Performer. [Hesitant.] I’m not sure if this is a good idea. Better leave it be.

Young Prince. But he’s so calm. Is it a he? Oh, right, antlers.

Performer. Be careful!

Young Prince. Look! He’s so nice. Do you think we can take him back to the other?

Performer. I don’t think we can. These are the woods. They don’t just give. [Stepping closer to the moose with hands raised.] Leave him be, and we can be home before the morning comes.

The Young Prince stands close to the moose. His hand is on an antler, and the animal snorts. Quickly, it rises to its full height, hoisting the Young Prince up with him as the boy clings to his neck.

Young Prince. Ah! Help!

The moose run in the direction of the lake.

Performer. Stop! Let him go! [As the moose doesn’t respond] <He’s not yours to take!>

The Performer runs towards the shore, but stops. Enter, on the far ridge near the lake, the Witness.

Performer. [To themself.] <Not you again.>

The moose enters the lake and takes the Young Prince with him. The Witness regards this scene with strangely passive eyes, but doesn ’t notice the Performer.

Performer. <Can’t we do away with her, instead? She will ruin it all if she keeps interfering.>

King. [From the darkness.] <I’m afraid not. Not unless you can find a way to get to her. The others would not believe her sudden disappearance.> [Disgruntled.] <What is more important is that you lost the boy. Foolish and unnecessary. You should have let us take him sooner, then all this could have been avoided.>

Performer. <I had an idea. It was going to work.>

King. <That doesn’t matter anymore. We need to adjust, but don’t think I will leave it all up to you.>

The water has turned calm again. Exit the Witness. The Performer waits, then follows her home.

Natalie sits at the hearth with a cup of warm water. Mari tried making some ‘woodsy tea’ from pine needles yesterday, but it’s not very tasty. Nat rather sticks to plain, boring water. She’s up early. The rest is still asleep, save for Lottie by the window, and the sky outside is still dark. But if they want to hunt something, and if Nat wants to feel like she actually has a chance, she does need to leave soon. The only issue is that Travis isn’t getting out of bed.

It’s safer to go in pairs, but whatever. If it’s necessary, Nat will just go alone. If she comes across more of those strange tracks, she won’t have to make up an excuse to keep Travis from going full into the weirdness of these woods. She’s just as worried about Javi, but getting stressed and freezing up because of it isn’t helping anyone. She sips some more.

From the pantry, the floorboards creak. A soft step comes closer until someone settles down next to Nat at the fire.

“Not taking a beauty sleep?” Nat grumbles. If she still had some cigarettes left, she would light one up now.

“I was already up,” Jackie says. “Didn’t want to… you know.”

“Wait to see Shipman’s mood of today?” Nat guesses, and Jackie’s embarrassed grimace is enough of an answer. She’s seen the girl stumble around her old friend for what must be a week now. It’s cringe worthy, like one of them is low-balling whatever they fought over, while the other keeps a grudge that is way too intense. But Nat can’t exactly tell Shauna to suck it up or to hit Jackie over the head with some common sense. This place they’re in would just make it worse, and Natalie isn’t that well-versed in conflict resolution as Lottie likes to present herself as.

“Do you want to come along for a walk?” she asks instead. “I was about to head out.”

Jackie perks up at that. “Are you sure? Isn’t Travis…?”

Natalie looks to his mat and sees the boy still asleep, or pretending to be. “I think he’s taking today off.” She throws back the remaining water in the cup and puts the cup on the floor. “Plus, it might be good to have someone who can fill in from time to time.” She gets to her feet, holding out a hand to Jackie, who blinks up at her with wide eyes.

“Sure, I can try.”

‘Try’ does not even cover it. Jackie politely refuses to take the gun from Nat, even if it is to get a feel for the weight of it. As they walk Nat’s familiar route through the woods, going past the places that usually had some wildlife grazing, they come across nothing that seems even remotely alive. The world is either still asleep, or winter is going to kill them all very soon.

“Did you know that Taissa sleepwalks?”

Nat stops, almost slips on the snow. “What?!” When she looks to Jackie, the other girl looks back at her as if she didn’t just drop something that is a pretty big deal.

“Yeah. She’s been leaving the cabin on some nights. I sometimes hear her leave.”

“And you’re sure she’s not just taking a leak?”

Jackie shakes her head. “Sometimes she does, sure, but other times she stays away for maybe hours at a time. I don’t know how she can even do that. It’s so cold out here.” She pulls her arms around her to enunciate it.

“Jesus Christ…” Nat doesn’t know what to do with that information. Okay, she does know. She’s gonna pull Taissa aside and tell her a thing or two about how fucking stupid it is to keep secrets like that out here. “She could get lost. Worse, she could fall off a cliff and fuckin’ die.”

“She hasn’t yet,” Jackie shrugs.

“So what? You’re saying I shouldn’t yell at Taissa? Look at that growth,” Nat sneers.

“Hey— No, Nat, you’re totally missing the point.” Jackie jogs to catch up as Natalie walks on. “I’m just wondering where she goes all the time. It doesn’t look like she’s leaving at random.”

“Yeah, I’m sure even a sleepwalking Taissa is hellbent on getting ahead of us.”

Nat hears Jackie huff at that, but the conversation ends there. They reach the crest of a hill, and the world stretches out before them. Dawn is visible at a mountaintop in the distance. The lake glitters below them, covered with more ice than when they pulled the door of the plane past it.

“Let’s go there,” Nat decides. “If the ice can hold us, we can set up something to fish with.” She steps down the hill, and Jackie follows. The trees grow closer together before they thin out again, closer to the shore. Snow coats their branches, sometimes falling down in flurries of white. The lake seems entirely frozen over when they near it. Still, Nat is careful with putting her feet on the surface. Small crackles fill the air, but it holds her. Her other foot joins the first, and soon enough she’s taken a few steps onto the lake without issue. “Coming?” She says to Jackie, who paces at the edge. “If it can hold me, it can hold you, too.”

Jackie musters up her courage, and almost jumps onto the ice. Her feet slip and slide and — well, is it eating shit if it’s on the ice? Nat laughs, but slides over to help Jackie up by an undoubtedly bruising elbow. “Careful there, captain,” she chuckles.

“Oh, fuck you.”

Jackie’s next steps are a lot harder, as if to make a point. Natalie lets her. It seems like the ice will hold them, and if not, at least she won’t be diving in the water first.

They’re walking a little bit on the eyes while Nat scans the woods. There’s no birds chirping, despite the morning. It’s not that they have to, especially this far up north, but it still unsettles her. When she tears her eyes away from the trees, they first skate over the ice, until they settle on the one irregularity in its smooth surface.

“What the…” she mutters, prompting a questioning tone from Jackie, but Nat has already picked up the pace. Moving closer, she can see that something sticks out of the ice, like a branch, or an antler, something solid. Most of it must be under water. Each step closer has her heart sinking further, when it is not an unfortunate deer, but a human arm that comes clearer into view.

“No.”

“Nat?” Jackie shouts after her, her voice echoing over the expanse.

“Get the fuck over here!” She gets out with just barely keeping her voice from breaking. Nat thanks who- or whatever that Travis stayed home today. The small hand sticking up as if still calling for help would ruin him.

She’s not sure if it won’t do the same for her.

Nat slides the last feet on her knees, coming close enough to shove the thin layer of snow away. A warbled image comes through the ice, but she doesn’t need to see it to start crying. They still had time. Winter hadn’t been here for that long.

“Natalie, what— oh…” Jackie stops just behind her, which is good because then she can’t see Nat’s face as the tears sting her eyes and she heaves and, yeah, there’s no point in trying to be strong here. She chokes out a sob and can’t find the strength to shake off Jackie’s hand on her shoulder.

“Nat, it’s—there’s nothing you could’ve done.” Isn’t that swell? Jackie fucking Taylor here to comfort her.

“I-I could’ve. I should’ve kept an eye on him at Doomcoming. Then none of this would have happened.”

“Doomcoming was chaos. We both know that.”

It was. And if she had kept Javi close, there’s no guarantee that with both of them tripping on Misty’s stash, something still could have happened.

“Nat—”

Regret is all she has now. What if Javi, or her, hadn’t eaten the stew? What if they had never set up Doomcoming in the first place? What if someone had fucking watched Misty when they were out foraging?

“Nat.”

What if Javi had never been on the plane? What if they had never crashed?

“Natalie!” Jackie shakes at her shoulder, getting her attention.

“What?!” The anger rears up inside, but Jackie points in the distance.

“Can you handle the gun?” she asks.

Nat is stupefied for a second. “Y-Yeah,” she says, and shucks the rifle off her shoulder. The familiar shape rests easy in her hands and against her shoulder. She puts it up, cocking it, and aiming down the sights. A slow exhale is all she has to steady her aim. It all comes down to moments like these, she knows.

When she pulls the trigger, a loud bang crackles over the ice and into the sky, so loud that Natalie fears that it might just sink through the ice and into the depths below. But no, they stay high and dry as in the distance, on a white and rocky shore, a white moose sinks through its legs. A red dot blooms on its forehead.

Chapter Text

Shauna watches them from the attic window. The entire group huddled in the snow as Natalie gives instructions and — when emotions seem to get the better of her — Taissa directing people around to grab things and come along. She doesn’t have an idea of what is going on, other than that Jackie and Nat returned earlier with a rush and a slight sense of panic around them. Shauna had thought up wolves making their rounds in the area again, but scratched that out when they urged the group to come outside rather than staying in. Taissa has only said something about her staying here because Shauna has to ‘take things easy’. Shauna thinks that, had she been more like Jackie, she wouldn’t mind being excused from the manual labor. But now, all alone in her ‘bedroom’ with the rest outside making plans and undoubtedly doing something for their survival, she feels both bored and useless.

Travis still stands all quiet at the edge of their clearing. Lottie says something to Natalie, and while the rest is buzzing to make their move into the woods, Jackie catches Taissa by the arm to ask her something, to which she gets a careful nod. She lingers behind while the rest departs, and Shauna mentally prepares to raise her walls when their eyes meet through the glass.

She huddles herself into a corner with journal and pencil in hand to scribble away at whatever. If she looks busy enough, it may just ward off anything awkward.

‘I don’t get what she’s doing. Fair enough, we’ve never had a fight like this before, and just ignoring it isn’t anything new, but why would she just put it beside her like that,’ Shauna writes as the front door of the cabin opens.

‘I know her, more than she would ever admit, and it ’s so fucking typical of her to try to be the better person in this. The only thing I would want is a sorry (if she could ever say it genuinely). That’s all. “Hey Shauna, sorry I never took what you wanted into consideration. Sorry I made you live like someone you weren’t.” Maybe I could see us getting on good terms again, but if she keeps this up, then I can show her just how patient I have become.’

Something is put on the floor of the pantry. Steady steps take the ladder upward.

“Hi,” Jackie says when her head pops up. She slides herself further up without the invitation. Whatever, it’s her room now, too, anyway. Shauna grunts and goes back to her writing.

‘Will she ever understand what space and privacy mean? I could explain it to her for hours and it just wouldn’t get through. I can take care of myself. I’m fine by myself. Taissa knows it, but I want her to get that message, too.’

“I, uh… Can we talk?”

Shauna looks over the edge of her journal. Jackie sticks to the trapdoor, sitting next to it while hugging her knees close, ready to bolt when needed.

“Can we now?”

‘And if she wants my attention, she’ll have to earn it. I’m not going to be a good student and sit ready for class when she demands it. It’s stupid. She hardly has anything interesting to say.’

“Shauna…”

‘Pathetic.’ The word is underlined so strongly that the tip of the pencil almost snaps. It expands the frustration that’s already growing, punctuated by the pages of the journal snapping shut with a dull sound.

“What for?” she says, and feels generous in granting Jackie a second to react. “Why do you want to talk now? For weeks, you had nothing to say to me, but all of a sudden it’s time to have a tea party? Was Nat mean to you? Do you need a pep talk?”

“No.”

Shauna raises her eyebrow to fish at more, any kind of reaction that she can hit back at. But Jackie shakes her head softly and places a foot down on the ladder.

“Forget I even asked,” she mumbles as she retreats further down.

It’s slow enough that Shauna can pick up something at her side — it looks like a big stick, and it might be just that — and hurl it across the floor. It misses its mark by a good few inches; clattering on the wood behind the trapdoor, from which Jackie peeks at her again, this time with the nigh-shock that Shauna was poking at.

“What is up with you?”

“Can you not avoid this for once?!”

Jackie’s face evens out. The corner of her mouth even quirks up slightly. “I thought you just said that you didn’t want to talk.”

“Don’t twist my words.”

“Oh, right, because you value honesty so much.”

Their stare-off lasts long enough for Shauna to want to pick up her journal again and start scribbling away. Is there ever any winning here? Can she ever get a good grip and topple Jackie over?

“Javi’s dead,” is what she gets hit over the head with instead. A dirty kick in the gut. “That’s what I wanted to talk about. If you’d let me finish.”

She can see him at the bottom of a cliff; torn to pieces by a bear; snowed over; shot; on the branches of a tree; knocking on the bottom of a sheet of ice. Terrible images brought on by a mind too imaginative for its own good, sometimes.

“Nat and I found him this morning. There wasn’t anything we could do.”

He’s a smart kid. He wouldn’t walk into danger, wouldn’t seek out unnecessary risks. He couldn’t die.

(Have died. It’s already done. Present perfect.)

The palms pressed to her eyes don’t block the tears from coming. Stupid hormones. Stupid pregnancy. But it’s more than that. It’s the guilt rearing its head to let out a grueling sound for a loss, this time all too real, and there’s not much she can do but let it tear her open from the inside.

And, in what she would otherwise call a moment of weakness, allows herself to be held close and warm. In search of comfort, Shauna rests her head in the crook of a sharper neck, where her tears stain the fur lining of a checkered coat, and her fingers cling to it from the back.

“I’m sorry,” Jackie says to her softly, a slow hand moving up and down Shauna’s back. “I’m sorry, Shauna.”

Pale, grayish stumps with purple tips. He must not have been out here for too long, or wandering animals would’ve gnawed them down to bright white twigs. The ice, as ominous as it spans out under their feet, the smooth surface revealing dark waters below, was the safeguard of Javi’s body. Miraculously untouched by the usual signs of a body set in water for a long period — if they are to believe Misty — it is still uncanny to hack at the ice around the boy and tie a rope around his slowly uncovered arms.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Lottie says as she sits with Nat and Travis on the ice, watching the others work at a distance.

“What is there to feel bad about, Lott? We got too fuckin’ comfortable. That’s what.”

The moose is still on the shore, exactly where their hunters had left it. The cold air will do enough to keep it from rotting, but there is still the matter of getting it back to the cabin before wolves or whatnot sniff it out. Lottie looks to Taissa, who stands watch over the group as they chip and knot and pull. Her arms are crossed, and she seems restless. More so than if there was really anything to prove. Jackie’s not even here to stir up some irrelevant competition, but still Taissa seems to fuzz over the details.

“No, Mel, come on— Don’t tie it like that! The other way around!”

Travis stands up without a word and walks towards the shoreline.

“So,” Lottie begins, changing the topic, “the moose was standing on the shore when you found him?”

Nat nods. “Basically. Creepy fucker. I guess we were lucky that Jackie spotted it before it could charge at us.”

“Hmm,” Lottie hums in thought.

“But before you jump to conclusions: no, I don’t think it’s the same thing that left those prints.” Nat picks at the fingertips of her gloves, pulling them off and sliding the glove back on. Her eyes are trained on the boy getting freed from the frost. “Two legs. Nothing else could explain it. This moose wasn’t sick or something, and we haven’t seen anything else in weeks that could’ve left similar prints. Not even on just their hoof shape.

“So can I now say that I have a bad feeling about this?”

“No, because that means you’re implying that Javi’s situation has anything to do with the Jersey Devil in the woods.”

Lottie turns to face Nat’s stern profile. “Would that be so weird? We have no idea what might be out there, out here, with us.”

Natalie sighs, “Lottie…” and stands up. “I think we have to go Occam’s machete on this one. Javi got unlucky. Nothing else. I’m not denying that something is up, but it doesn’t have to be involved in everything, okay?” She follows Travis to where the moose lies, and crouches down next to him as his fingers trace the curve of the animal’s antlers.

“Heave!” Van grunts, and the others pull on the rope with a wet crackling. It takes two more pulls for Javi to be fully out of the water, and the hole he leaves behind stills within seconds. Misty is at his side like a coroner as they roll him on the makeshift stretcher they’d used to carry Ben from the plane.

“Out of the way, Scully.” They shoo Misty away so Taissa and Melissa can pick the stretcher up.

“Let’s go,” Tai says resolutely, and leads the way off the ice. Lottie sticks behind with Natalie to guard the moose. Nat is reluctant to let go of Travis, seeing as he drags is feet behind the rest in their sombre procession.

“We should keep an eye on him.”

“I can fill in for him on hunts, if you’d like that.”

Nat shoots her a glance. “Opportunistic much? Jackie is doing just fine as backup.”

“I don’t have anything against Jackie.” Lottie glides her hand through the course fur of the animal down at their side. “We could even go in threes. I just don’t think it is safe for you to head out there unprepared.”

“Ugh, Lottie—” Nat pinches at her brow and adjusts the gun on her back, “I don’t need to be babysat. I have a gun, I can aim. I don’t think I’ll need much more than that.”

“Nat—”

“And don’t go tell me that it’s a non-physical evil, or whatever. You either get lucky out here, like Jackie or Van, or you don’t. But don’t use Javi to convince me, because that is really low.”

Lottie nods. Talking any more would just do more harm. “Do you mind if I walk around for a bit? I don’t know how long it will take for Shauna to get here.”

“Sure, set up a picnic. But don’t get eaten by the woods ghost.”

“If I do, you better come to my rescue, Nat.” Lottie throws in a wink, just because. They can’t become enemies out here. Petty drama has a way of killing, or so she fears.

With her hands shoved into her pockets, Lottie walks along the perimeter of the lake. Going the full circle would be a bit overkill, but Lottie thinks she’s good as long as Nat and the moose are still visible.

The sky is calm today, but in the distance, the dark gray of an approaching storm is showing. Lottie hopes the others hurry, both those that are taking care of Javi, and those that are coming to handle the moose.

She startles briefly from Nat skipping stones on the ice; the crackling sound rolling like thunder through the ice. Lottie shakes her head and walks further. Still her mind is stuck on how to best approach the situation with Nat. She knows what Nat meant, and even relates to not wanting to be looked after all the time, but this right here is serious. There is so much out here that they have no idea of, and what exactly is a threat or a blessing is still hard to decipher. But if Natalie doesn’t want to be convinced, well… that makes it a whole pickle.

She almost misses the disturbance in the snow ahead of her when Nat shouts to direct Jackie and Shauna to her location at the moose. But Lottie turns back around and crouches down to get a better look at the ground and the various shapes and tracks present in it. The light isn’t perfect, but there is the big shift of snow from a large animal, possibly the moose, which then runs in the direction of the lake. They’re not as relevant to her as the tracks that lead to this spot from the forest. She has an idea, but Lottie will need Nat to make sure. As a bonus, it might just convince her of the threat at hand.

Shauna’s eyes are still red-rimmed and puffy when they go down the hill towards the lake. She doesn’t like it to be noticed, but Jackie does. Just as she feels Shauna’s fingers trembling when she holds out her hand to help her down a slippery part of the path. It might have been good, to let it all out like that. The context isn’t great, but Jackie feels as if this is the most normal they’ve been in weeks, ever since that night. They still don’t talk much, but tolerating silence is better than bitter sneers thrown back and forth.

Shauna holds the knife close with one hand, and lets the other be dragged along by Jackie through the wood that separates them from Lottie and Natalie. The sight of Javi was brief, as Taissa explained the situation with the deer and the incoming storm.

“It has to get here before it rains or snows, or it will rot faster.”

Grieving is a luxury that was also left behind when the plane crashed. Duty calls, and it’s not going to be nice about it. It’s a good thing that by now Jackie knows her way around the cabin area. They reach the lake soon after departing the warmth of their shelter, and find Nat when she shouts them over from the shore.

The moose is still in the same spot where they shot it, sagged through its legs and not having moved an inch since. Jackie looks back at Shauna to see if she has her footing, and notices her glancing over the lake before moving her eyes to Nat. When Jackie follows her gaze, she can spot a figure on the other side of the lake. A line appears on her forehead in thought.

(Whatever is she doing over there…)

“Jackie? Some help here?” Shauna shuffles carefully with her uncertain footing. Jackie is on firmly horizontal ground, but the slope on which Shauna stands has the snow stomped into a solid and slippery mass.

“Ah, sure. Here, hold on.” She holds out both her arms for Shauna to take for support. The touch is firm and practical, but still she glances up to Shauna’s face and finds her eyes pointed to the ground as she moves her foot to another place. She seems sure of one spot, but when Shauna puts her full weight down, the toe slips out from underneath her and before Jackie realizes it, she lands with her back on the snow and the air knocked out of her. She laughs when her breath comes back to her. “Ouch, Shauna.”

Shauna takes a second before breathing out a chuckle, too. Her hands still hold Jackie’s arms, and there’s an itch to pry them loose and wrap them around in a hug. It comes almost naturally, but there’s still that doubt of it being too much, too soon, too friendly of a thing to do.

“Okay, come on.” Shauna is the one who breaks it off first, getting on her knees and from there clumsily onto her feet. “Before your ass freezes off.” She doesn’t hold out a hand, but that’s fine. Baby steps. Natalie raises a hand in greeting. “Hi,” is the only thing she says with it, and gives Shauna a soft pat on the shoulder and a brief hug to go along with it. “Did Taissa fill you in?”

Shauna wipes at her nose and sighs. “Cut up a moose?”

“Basically. I think they’ll come back to help us later, but we better make a start with this storm rolling in.” Natalie observes the sky, the gray mass steadily approaching. Shauna silently goes to work on letting the blood drain out while Nat and Jackie stand back. Lottie is coming their way again, so Jackie pokes at Natalie’s arm.

“What’s she been up to?”

Nat shrugs. “Dunno. She wanted to go for a walk, was talking a bit about how dangerous these woods are for us. Said she’d like to come along for hunts.”

Jackie frowns. “Why? Sorry, but it’s not like there are suddenly more wild animals out there. I’d actually think the opposite.”

“You know how Lottie can be…”

Jackie hums as she sees the girl approaching them with a steady pace. On a mission, it seems. She’s a little out of breath when she gets to them, saying hello and checking with Shauna if she needs help. The knife is not the best way to tackle such a large animal, but with some directions, they section it and cut it into manageable chunks. With the storm hopping the first mountain in the distance, Crystal and Misty coming from the trees to take the first load is a welcome sight.

It takes a while, and they are pushing getting all the moose back to the cabin before it will start pouring. But when there’s only so much left that they can carry themselves, Lottie halts them before they can start on their return.

“Can I-Can I show you something? It’s important.”

“Lott,” Nat groans while motioning at the sky. “Not exactly great timing.”

“I know, I know,” Lottie gives them a pleading look. “It will be gone after it will snow, so it’s really the last moment I have.”

Shauna is shivering. Jackie isn’t a fan of staying out here much longer, but not indulging Lottie now might make it harder in the long run to hear her out on things.

“Nat, let’s just give it a quick look.”

Nat gives her an are-you-kidding-me glare, but concedes. “Alright, Lott, but hurry the fuck up. I want to be home for dinner.”

Lottie leads them to the spot where Jackie first saw her, on the other edge of the lake. They dare to leave the last pieces of the moose behind unguarded, since nothing else would likely brave the storm. The lack of light has Lottie peering at the ground constantly, holding them back so that they don’t accidentally step on whatever she’s looking for.

“Lottie, it’s really cold,” Shauna complains. Jackie contemplates tugging her close for warmth, but is interrupted when Lottie makes a noise.

“Here! Look at this.” She points at the snow. The barely-there shadows show the hint of a large disturbance.

“What’s this? A big animal rolling around?” Nat asks, and her’s and Jackie’s mind seem to think the same when they both look to the moose on the shore.

“I think so, but that’s not it.” Lottie steps around the shape like it’s an ancient dig site, peering at the snow for something that she knows is there but needs to find again. “Okay. Here.” She points again. A little way off the big splash of moose fun.

“Is that… Javi?” Shauna whispers softly. Carefully, she traces the edge of a shoe print in the snow.

“It has to be. And if it was him, that makes this all the more complicated.” She directs their attention a little to the left, to another trail. Four shoes in a horizontal line, going in the same direction.

“He wasn’t alone.” Jackie’s head snaps towards Lottie.

“Lott, what are you saying?”

“It’s regular shoes. Someone was with him, and it was one of us.”

Thunder rolls in the distance. The first drop falls in a footprint.

“… Let’s head back,” Nat mumbles.

“Okay, okay! Ahem. Once upon a time, in a cabin just like this…” Misty squeals a the thunder cracks outside, but it doesn’t stop Crystal from standing in front of the fireplace as if she is about to drop the newest Iliad. Van leaves it be. She knows her own talents and is already thinking of her own tale to spin and captivate the hungry audience with. They’re still on old bear meat, with the moose coming in too late to make good rations out of it. Mari promises that it will be for tomorrow, but there still is an air of celebration about tonight. They’re happy, for the first time in weeks, and despite the find of this morning. The only ones not participating are Natalie and Travis, who are having their dinner in the bedroom at the back. Shauna is also more quiet than usual, but the new and somewhat surprising element is that she’s back on her usual spot next to Jackie again. At times they whisper, sometimes with Lottie included, but it’s not really of any interest to Van what is going on there.

What is, is Taissa barely holding back her laughter at Crystal’s great performance in miming out one of her beloved Broadway shows. Misty claps from the front row at every emotional climax, while the other JV’s heckle from the back. Coach Ben shakes his head in a corner, pushing around a spoonful of bear stew with a smile on his face. Javi is forgotten, just for tonight, on a stretcher in a room behind them.

“Honestly, I did not think she could pull Into the Woods from our humble abode here,” Taissa whispers to her in a grin.

“What can you say? The girl’s got talent.” Van rocks the chair back a bit, enjoying the soft sway of it going forward. Taissa’s hand on her knee stops the movement. “Not as much as you,” she winks. Van flusters, scratching at her cheek because of a newly developed nervous tick. Crystal takes a bow, stepping away from the hearth under loud applause from Misty. The weather outside flashes lightning, and another strike claps over their shelter.

“Van would like to go next,” Taissa says without flinching. Van tries to shrug it off.

“I’m sure there’s someone else who—” but is interrupted by the group agreeing with Taissa.

“Van! Van! Van! Van!”

She stands with loud cheers and claps, taking the spot at the hearth and raising her hands to command the silence. “Okay, okay, desperate townsfolk.” She clears her throat and racks through her mind for a good plot to put on the starting prompt.

“Once upon a time, in a cabin just like this, were a group of men huddled together as it snowed outside.”

Those that still have some stew eat it in silence. Mari is already theorizing with Akilah on guessing the movie, but Van hopes that they keep themselves from spoiling the rest. Ben’s head is propped up on his arm at the windowsill, looking at her with pride. Shauna lies on the floor, reclining and almost dozing at Jackie’s side, who listens closely to Van’s every word with wide eyes. Lottie picks at her fingers. Crystal and Misty snicker over an inside joke. All in all, a good audience. The cherry on top is Taissa looking at her with the most loving gaze that she’s ever seen.

“So one of them has this thing that he’s always wearing a cowboy hat. Nobody knows why. It’s not important, but let it paint your image of the cast.”

With grand gestures, she acts out scenes. Of a gunman shooting at a husky from a helicopter, of a tense excursion to another cabin in the snow, of a strange dog prowling their house.

“At this point, they obviously know that something is up. So cowboy guy puts together a clever test to figure out who the intruder in their midst is.”

The creature is a challenge, but Crystal is eager to step in as a tragic victim to its jaws. Van might actually begin to appreciate the girl, despite her constant chirping. Her finale, with the slow but nonetheless dreadful ending scene, is met with cheers and whoops from around the room. Van basks in every reaction. Taissa does a whistle, the JV’s clap, Shauna gives a thumbs-up and rolls over into the blanket that was passed to her. Jackie looks confused at Van, as if she missed an important part of the story, but Mari nudges her with an elbow and leans over to say, “It was The Thing, remember?” To which Jackie nods as if all of a sudden she knows what Mari is talking about.

Van takes a bow and takes her place on the rocking chair again.

“Do you want to sleep upstairs tonight?” Taissa asks her softly when Gen pushes Melissa forward to tell the next story.

“Uh, if you want that?” Van grimaces slightly. “Would Shauna and Jackie mind it?”

Tai shrugs. “Doubt it. Shauna the least. She looks like she needs to be carried upstairs.”

“Well,” Van teases, “if having me up there would give you some peace of mind…”

“It would, actually.” Her smile is soft. “I need someone to watch me, just in case.”

“Of course.” Van takes her hand, and together they watch the mess that is Melissa trying to weave a nice story.

ONCE UPON A TIME

IN A CABIN JUST LIKE THIS

There was a hunter.

Who left home and hearth in search of something real. No matter the girl he loved cried as if he was already dead, or that his parents could only plead with him to not stray this deep into the wilderness. He would not listen, for he had lost his purpose. There was a small plane he could take, and a lake that had an old cabin, so they said. He packed his gun and tools, magazines and supplies to start, and took to the sky before touching water softly.

There it stood. It needed reinforcements, but he was no fool. His father had taught him how to wield a hammer, just as his mother had shown him how to sew, stitch, and cook. This way, he shaped his new home.

Few times he would leave this home behind and sail over the trees. He ’d get what he would need, and read letters that were weeks old but still full of love.

( ‘I will come. If only you’d ask, I’d join you there and live this life that you want. But I can’t help but ask what that life has that the one I’m in cannot offer you?’)

Another month has passed before he can think of a reply.

What keeps his attention are the little things appearing on his doorstep. Like a cat dropping mice on the porch, the hunter finds berries and small gemstones. He ’d thought that whatever he had felt out here, the prickling nerves inside his body, were merely a reaction to the environment he had put himself in. The world is wide and open out here between the trees, but he is not alone.

Fortune has it that these are well-intended beings.

He leaves small portions of what he can spare on the porch and receives gifts of similar quantity and size in return. Their mutual but unspoken agreement is this; they respect their habitats, and don ’t interfere with the other. He can take from the wilderness if he does it with honor, and they don’t set a foot beyond his doorstep without invitation.

The next time he takes his plane towards civilization, he has a letter.

( ‘Do come visit. Please. There is so much here I want to show you.’)

But then, as he waits for her to arrive, one of them breaks the rules.

Something missing from his pantry. He would overlook it if it had been the neighbor boy at home, where rules can be explained and a light scolding would suffice, but he knows that if these creatures in the wood do not know of his boundaries, that they just might eat him alive and think nothing else of it.

So he does what he does best.

He places bowls of what they crave the most on his doorstep, and waits with weapon in hand. He stalks the wood well after night has fallen and the stars do little to provide him with any sight. The hunter does not flinch at the screeching owl above, but keeps still in the foliage like the predator he likens himself to be. And it pays off. He catches a smaller one, but whether it is the fiend who stole from him does not matter anymore.

“I hold just as much power over you!” He says to the woods. Another one, bigger, and ever changing to dodge his bullets, tries to save their kin but has to return home with dripping wounds and the burn of an iron ladle.

So then HE comes. With a great crown and piercing eyes.

“My queen is of the opinion that this has lasted long enough,” HIS voice cuts on the wind. The hunter stands before him, brandishing the sharpened ladle behind his back. Before the king can set up an agreement to discuss, he jumps forward and strikes HIM in the chest — wherever that may be. But that is not the end of it, as a stag rises to its trembling legs and the hunter needs to act fast in taking his gun and aiming, so the shot ringing through the forest is the only one needed.

“My lands.” The hunter takes his kill home to cook, oblivious to the presence that still hangs in the air, gathering strength and calling for its subjects in the night. They lull him into a sense of safety, that he has won and brought them down. But then when he walks along one of his many well-worn trails, they jump from every shadow with claws and fangs, howling as they give chase. If they cannot catch him in their maws, the constant threat wears him down. His gun is always by his side or clutched in his sweating palms. The plane sits nigh-abandoned on its parking spot, and he hasn’t shown or written a sign of life in weeks when it causes him to look at every rustling branch with suspicion.

But, oh, there she comes from between the trees.

“My love?” He hasn’t forgotten her. Not even in his paranoid mind does her image cause fear.

“Dear?” Her voice is a balm to his reeling self. He takes her back home, vigilant in guarding her safety, and they share tea at the crackling hearth. He confides in her his troubles and as she rubs his back to soothe him, she shares a wisdom.

“I heard there is a sign to ward off these beings.” Taking a pencil from the table, she draws it out for him to see: simple shapes in a composition that is easy to remember. “They won’t attack you or cross it if you make a boundary with it.”

In the early rising dawn of the next day, he pulls out a knife and carves in crumbling barks. He waits patiently at its side, and though some snarl at the edges of his vision, they don ’t come near him.

He returns happy and victorious, taking his beloved in his arms for how glad he is that she is with him here. The next day, he once again rises early to carve it into the floor of his attic so that they cannot steal his most precious things anymore.

But his most precious they already stole. Her face is not the same. It ’s the details; in her dark eyes now starkly pale; in the white-blonde curls creeping in the dark strands he loved to thread his fingers through. They’d played him for a lovesick fool.

He ’s in the attic and within the safety of his circle before it can get to him. He sits in the chair and watches as it crawls up the ladder and watches him with interest. Sympathy, even. Their hooves sound hard on the wood, but their voice is soft.

“Don’t blame yourself. I’ve always been their very best.”

They sit on the floor as the form of his beloved drains fully from their features.

“I’m sure she loves you very much from where in the world she may be. Her letters were quite touching.”

He doesn ’t take the bait.

“What are you?”

“Whatever you need me to be.”

“Who are you?”

“Does that matter anymore?”

Perhaps it doesn ’t.

The darkness presses in at night, but the hunter stays put in his circle and waits, and waits, and waits with his unwanted companion.

Until one day, in the early hours of the morning,

Our hunter starves.

Chapter Text

Poor, alone, and happy, I walk the surf
And make a fire on the beach
And as darkness covers the face of the deep
Lie down in the wild grass
And dream the dream that the dreamers dream

I am the wind, the sea, the evening star
I am everyone, anyone, no one

- from “Full Moon” by Eden Ahbez

30 DAYS

The ashes from Javi’s pyre are soon covered by fresh snow. A dirty smudge of grays and browns is all that remains of him. Travis has withdrawn himself further to the cabin’s interior, refusing to even set a foot outside to go hunting or chop wood. They cut him some slack because it was his brother. There’s plenty of people to fill in for him, and with both the bear and the moose in the meat shed, there is enough food to have them sit back and rest a little.

Crystal is seeing this all in quite a positive light, despite the circumstances. Yes, winter is still thickly around them — and will be for more months to come — but they are living it out. “When we get home, I’ll definitely move to New York.”

Misty takes a break from snapping branches into individual twigs for kindling. “How so? Do you want to go straight to Broadway?”

Crystal lifts her chin up. “You know what they say,” she sing-songs, “to get to the stage, you make connections. The best way to have people know of my talent is to mingle with them!” She smiles at the daydream that comes of it: a cozy apartment, not too high and not too low in the building, within walking distance of cafes and restaurants that only the locals know of but serve delicious food. One night she’s bussing tables on the side and there he is! The great ALW! Immediately enamored by her, he slips her a note for an upcoming casting call. She sighs dreamily at all the Tonys in her future. “We could be roomies, probably!”

“You think so?” Misty’s smile grows wider and as bright as the surrounding snow that glistens in the morning sun.

“Of course! Who else could I talk to about boys, and cranky customers, and missed auditions, and—” Crystal lists a bunch of things that she can see herself doing. There’s a lot to do when they get home, and especially in New York, of all places. Gen and Melissa might not appreciate her affinity for the stage and its music, but she’s got a loyal friend in Misty, and those are hard to come by.

“Hey!” Jackie interrupts their shared fantasy, “have you two seen Shauna?” Her and Natalie stayed at the cabin today, both because there was a day that they could afford to take a break from the hunting, and so Nat could be there to help Travis with any preparations and ideas he had for Javi’s cremation. That was eventually what they’d landed on as the best way to have some sort of funeral, with the ground being all frozen. While Natalie’s doing that, Jackie seems to trail after Shauna, despite the latter doing her best to get away unseen. They’re in a weird situation. Not unlike Crystal and a friend before she transferred schools last year.

“Sorry, Jackie,” she grimaces, “I don’t know.” And she genuinely doesn’t! It’s not like Shauna declares it to the other cabin residents that she’s leaving and that nobody is to inform Jackie of her location. Misty pushes at her glasses.

“I think she went to that small clearing south? It’s five minutes from here, but she’s been hanging out there a lot to write.”

Crystal turns her head towards Misty and away from Jackie to mouth a silent “How?”.

“Oh, really? Thanks, Misty!” She jogs off into the direction Misty pointed her two, and Crystal is left with at least one question more than she started with. Misty, to her benefit or slight discomfort, seems able to read it from her baffled face.

“What? I think keeping track of people’s whereabouts is the safe thing to do, ever since what happened to Javi.”

“Do you really think it’s that dangerous?” Crystal stage-whispers. She can see the logic behind it. The woods are big, and it’s easy to get lost in them. But Javi was — if she had to be completely honest — a bit dumb for going on the ice. As long as they went out in groups of two or more, there’s not a lot that could happen.

Right?

“Underestimating it might just get you killed.” Misty snaps another branch with a self-satisfied smirk. “And besides, precaution never hurt anyone.”

24 DAYS

“Travis, listen, I…”

Actually, Ben doesn’t really have an idea of what he wants to say. ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ would be the bare minimum, but that’s not what he is aiming for. He wasn’t there when Bill got speared on a tree. He wasn’t really there when they buried the bodies and his leg. Hell, for all that his position back home demanded of him, he’s not remotely being the responsible adult out here. Taissa had grown into the role that he’d seen the promise of on the field. Jackie crawled up and was taking up an unexpected yet vital part in their survival out here. He’s proud of Natalie, even if she tries to stick to the background as much as possible.

She’s not here with Travis. She had been ever since they found Javi and had their improvised service, but today is the day that she, Jackie, and Lottie are out in the woods again to keep their hunting skills from deteriorating. Not that new meat is a dire need. They haven’t even touched the moose yet beyond the first celebratory stew.

“What does it matter?” Travis cuts into the silence. “I couldn’t help dad, and I couldn’t help Javi. Why should I stick around if all I ever am is totally useless?”

Many a case of teenage angst had passed through Ben’s sex-ed classes. He knows to pity them, and reach out when it drags on for too long. This one will pass, too, at some point, but still he nudges Travis’ foot with the end of his crutch. The situation they’re in has him second-guessing everything.

“I know you won’t take it as much to heart as I would like you to, but you’re not useless, Travis. A lot has happened out here that nobody should ever have to experience in their life. Don’t ever think that you didn’t do enough.”

Travis shows him a quivering frown and hangs his head. His hair has grown so long, it covers his face almost fully.

“We have food, we have shelter, we have warmth. We did the best we can, and I’m sure we can make it through winter,” Ben continues. “So whenever a rescue team comes, I want your mother to have at least someone returning to her. Okay?”

Travis doesn’t say much. He resolutely avoids eye contact. The only reaction that Ben can read is the careful nod that the boy gives.

“Okay. I’m not going to babysit you, because I trust you’re a smart kid, but please talk to me, or anyone else, if there’s anything you feel stuck with.” Though the gesture is unfamiliar to him, Ben does pat the boy on the shoulder. “You’ll get through this, Travis.”

He leaves him at the kitchen table, but only because Lottie, Melissa, and Gen are in the living room. Despite reminding himself that detaching himself from these kids would ultimately be in his self-interest — because who knows how many more might die out here — there’s a stubborn part of him that cares too deeply. As Ben exits the cabin to the frigid winter air, he regrets, doubts, and second-guesses all of his past.

Would it have been any different if he’d stayed with Paul?

22 DAYS

Lottie sips at her tea. It’s the early morning, a misty one, on a day that they’re staying at the cabin. These breaks are more than welcome, but she feels itchy to head back out and search once again. The various times that they walked their “hunting grounds”, as Nat refers to them, haven’t born any results. None that she would like, at least. Concrete evidence. Something that unquestionably would prove that someone — something — knew where Javi was and tricked him into an early grave.

“I’m not saying it’s impossible,” Nat grumbles, holding up a warm cup of her own, “but who the fuck of us would have a motive to get rid of Javi?”

Lottie wants to retort that it is the wrong way of looking at things. It wasn’t someone of them. So on that they agreed: there was no motive for murder in anyone of the team. Nobody hated Javi, or even disliked him, for all she knew. Besides, if things really went that way out here, if it anyone was fair game on the simple basis that there would be nobody to stop them from killing anyone, then Lottie was frankly surprised that other persons among them were still around. Not to call any names, but Javi was nowhere near on that list.

If, however, Javi had been aware of something out there, in the wilderness… Then maybe it had acted out of self-preservation.

In any case, while Nat thinks they’re playing Clue, Lottie is leaning more towards the Ouija board (or Shauna’s knife-pendulum).

“There doesn’t have to be a motive,” is the sentence she lands on.

“Oh, great. I’d love a psychotic killer in our midst. Really could use that right now.” Nat rolls her eyes, but Lottie dares to smile at the sarcasm.

“Think you could beat Michael Myers in a one-on-one?” she asks to lighten the mood, just as the first rays of the sunshine appear through the trees.

“Duh. That dude is slow as fuck. If you’d let me have the gun, that’s easily taken care of.”

“Fair enough,” Lottie shrugs.

She takes another sip of tea and lets the water sit in her mouth as it cools.

“I know it wasn’t you, Lott.”

“Thanks for your vote of confidence.” If only it were paired with Natalie actually listening to her, it would’ve been perfect. But it’s a start. Funny, how her trying to convince Nat is feeling like her own game of deception. It isn’t, of course, because this is the truth. Even if she’s off her meds and therefore has many reasons to doubt herself, Lottie knows that she’s not being ‘crazy’ — as Taissa would put it — about this.

Oh, right, Taissa. She puts a pin in that.

“Come on Lott, I’m serious.” Natalie has turned to her now, with her hands still warmed around the cup. “I know you wouldn’t do anything to Javi, despite… despite all the fuckery at Doomcoming.” Lottie has to roll her eyes at that, even if, from an outside perspective, she can see her point.

“But this took place outside of that, so nobody has the excuse of shrooms.”

“Sounds like you already have a list of suspects,” Lott pries, to which Nat nods ever so slightly.

“More like a list of innocents,” Nat says, and slides up closer across the porch. They’re not close to the door and out of the way for any heavy traffic of people going in and out of the cabin to forage, chop, or fish. Their shoulders touch as Nat lists out the names by counting on her fingers.

“Travis is out for obvious reasons, as is Ben. I’d add Shauna to the list, too, since she cared a lot for him.”

“Jackie?” Lottie asks.

“Jackie ‘cried when she accidentally killed a dragonfly’ Taylor? She’s gotten rougher the past weeks, but I’d still not think her capable of first-degree murder.”

“Tai? She could if she had to.”

“Exactly. And did she have a reason? Van is the same, I’d say.”

“Akilah could never do it, and not to be rude, but I doubt the other JVs could either.”

“Mari? She could, but with Javi I’m not so sure.”

“Same here… Misty?”

“Misty.”

19 DAYS

“You’re still not feeling to good about Javi, Nat?” Jackie asks from the front of their small caravan. Nat throws a glare behind her at Lottie as they pull heavy legs through the snow and up the hill. The landscape is barren. No tracks to be found, but Lottie keeps insisting that she should join them in their hunts.

“No,” Nat answers.

Jackie gives it a few feet before glancing back. “…Why?”

“Why? Jesus fuck, do you really not get why it should bother me still?”

“Well, I did.” Jackie slows her step till Natalie catches up with her. “But is it really worth it to keep thinking about it? Nothing has happened in the meantime, so I doubt that anyone is out to pick us off one by one.” Yet she bites her lip, as if Jackie isn’t even sure of it herself. “What happened to Javi was… wrong, but you’re not helping him if you keep all your focus on trying to solve this.”

Nat rolls her eyes and points a thumb back at Lottie. “So you moved to team girl scout and want to search the land for mysterious tracks now too?”

“I didn’t say that,” Jackie says softly, looking embarrassed. “Maybe things are way simpler than you think they are. It could save us a lot of trouble if we, you know, think about surviving the very real situation we’re in as a priority.”

“Okay,” Nat scoffs, “so thinking about what happened to our friend who died is not contributing to surviving?” She almost has to laugh. Leave it to Jackie to not read the room at all. Maybe it does clear things up for her, because Jackie stops, standing there baffled with her big doe eyes, and then stomps the snow with one foot before she turns right around to walk back the way they came.

“Jack, come on,” Nat teases over Lottie’s dark head of hair. “A bit more maturity, please.”

“Speak for yourself!” Jackie shouts back, but keeps on walking back to the cabin.

“She knows the way.” Nat waves away Lottie’s concerned look as she turns her head around.

“Nat, it’s not that. It’s that—”

“—we shouldn’t let anyone go out alone. Yeah, yeah, I didn’t forget it.” Nat continues forward, readjusting the strap of the gun hanging over her shoulder. “Jackie’s fine. If anything happens, Shauna’s bestie-sense will tingle.”

“You think that’s still active?” Lottie jokes as she takes a few big strides to get next to Natalie. They reach the top of the hill and overlook the lake somewhere below, the sun glittering on the ice.

“As long as they’re not kicking and screaming at each other to get out of the cabin, I’d say it’s progress.”

Dawn breaks into morning. Fresh, sharp sun rays cut through the sky and light their path clearer. The snow is undisturbed, which isn’t comforting. If there were any nocturnal animals about, their tracks should have showed up sharp in the morning light. They can still ration out the bear and the moose, but if this lack of game persists through winter, there’s no telling how desperate their future might become in a month or so.

“To go over the, uh, girl scout side of things,” Lottie says eventually, “I didn’t mean that you have to help me. It was an idea, I wanna pursue it, and I thought you’d want that too, given the whole thing with Javi.”

“I know, Lott, but we’re not on the same page with that,” Nat admits honestly. “There’s not something out in these woods snatching kid brother’s away. There just can’t be.”

“Won’t you at least consider it a possibility?” Lottie pleads.

“And then what?” Nat huffs. “Do you want to comb every square inch of these woods for a sign?”

Lottie catches her by the wrist. “We don’t have to do that. Just keep our eyes open for anything strange. It’s winter. We saw tracks, and we could find more if we keep looking.” She’s barely saying it outright, but Nat can taste the whole ‘tune into the wilderness’ bullshit that Lottie has going on. She’s learned to mask it, somewhat to Nat’s satisfaction, but the implication persists.

“We can, if you’d like to. But there’s nothing out here, Lott.” She gestures around with her arms. “Nothing. No game, no rescue team, no monsters.” Defeated, she drops the limbs down. “You can come along, but please don’t go talk my head off about anything supernatural. That might drive me crazy even faster than having to be out here alone.”

Lottie’s smile is soft and caring. Understanding, even. “Alright,” she says. “Want to hear how I stole those Doc Martens?”

Nat smirks. “Duh. Lay it on me, master criminal Lottie Matthews.” And morning becomes a lot more pleasant.

15 DAYS

An unwelcome prod at her knee has Shauna almost cut a line of lead across the page of her already tattered journal. “What?” she snaps at Jackie, who blinks owlishly at her reaction. It’s not the action in itself, more that it almost ruined the page she was writing on. It’s not that Shauna lacks self-awareness of the shortened temper that she has. If anything, noticing it herself is what makes it all the more unbearable. That and the constant knowledge that, yes, she’s actually going to have a baby in the woods.

“What do you wanna do?” Jackie asks like nothing’s up. Like they’re not in a cold cabin somewhere in Canada and closer to starving with each day that Natalie comes back without a kill. That isn’t even what stands out the most. Jackie rarely asks Shauna for ideas on what to do. She’s the planner between them, not the one to see wherever the wind takes them.

So Shauna frowns at her, and Jackie shrugs.

“It was just a question…”

“Yeah, I caught that.”

“So, what do you want to do, Shauna?” Jackie repeats. “Doubt you want to scribble the whole day, and to be honest, I’m a bit bored.”

Shauna sighs. There’s the catch. “So it’s actually you needing an excuse.”

“What? No!” Jackie catches herself with a half-snort. “I just thought— since well, you know—” Her hands gesture vaguely around. “I thought maybe, given the state of it all, that you’d want to do something fun, and maybe I could be part of that?”

“The state of it all being my fucked up life?” Shauna raises an eyebrow and demonstratively puts a sharp dot at the end of her last written sentence before slapping the journal shut. “Let’s go for a walk then.”

She’s up before Jackie is registering it and scrambling to her feet from the couch they were sitting on. She trots after Shauna out the door and into the freezing air of the wilderness. Shauna isn’t going in a specific direction, instead keeping her focus on the heavy strides through the snow, and the icy mixture that will undoubtedly get her socks wet before they’ll be on the way back to the cabin. She can already hear Misty nagging in her mind about watching out for getting frostbite, but it’s not like that will happen within the first five minutes of their trek. The baby kicks at her stomach, a dreadful feeling, but that is the only discomfort she feels right now. She plows onwards, leaving Jackie stumbling behind her to keep up.

“Shauna! Slow down!”

She should. There’s an uneven that blows snow in her eyes and blurs her vision. She doesn’t know these woods that well yet to afford to get lost, especially not in the current season, but still she stays stubborn. It’s better than stopping and talking.

“Shauna, wait!”

There’s a crack in the trees that shows an otherwise magnificent vista. Mountains, gray and speckled with white, stand greatly in the landscape ahead and below. The top of the world.

“Shauna—!”

Arms snake around her waist and pull her back with all their might. A surprising level of strength that pulls the breath from her lungs. Shauna would even think she’s lifted fully off the ground, but it is the ground that is gone from under her. Jackie’s heavy breaths warm her left ear as they both stagger backwards into safety.

“What the fuck, Shauna…” Jackie sighs as she catches her breath. “You could have fuckin’ died!”

It’s true. The cliff’s edge is sharp. The ground simply stops without even barely sloping downwards in warning. She doesn’t need to check that it is a steep drop. This is where they empty the bucket, or at least those unlucky enough to pull that card. Shauna turns around in Jackie’s grip, taking in the sheer worry that emanates from her, before a loud laughter sputters from her.

“This isn’t funny, Shauna!” Jackie says, baffled.

The fur of the coat’s collar is still soft beneath Shauna’s fingertips, despite the wear and the weather. It’s warm against her cheek when she pulls closer to rest her head. It’s the closest she’s been to home ever since they crashed.

“I wish we weren’t here, or now,” she says by way of verbalizing it.

She can feel Jackie breath in as if to say something, but nothing comes.

“Seattle would have been better. Even home’s nicer than out here.”

“I’m sure everyone thinks that.”

But Shauna shakes her head. “Not for the same reason I do.” She pulls backwards just in time to catch Jackie rolling her eyes.

“Whatever the reason, we’re still in the same boat. Don’t do something you might regret.”

“Oh, fuck you too.” Shauna shoves harshly to create space between them once again. “I’m already living with the goddamn consequences, so don’t go holding it against me when I might just die out here.”

Jackie opens and shuts her mouth in surprise. “Shauna, that’s… that’s not what I meant.”

“Well, whatever you meant, you can drop the act,” Shauna bites back. She pays careful attention to the way that Jackie’s hands clench into fists at that. A sign that she knows.

“What act?” Jackie laughs briefly before the worry creeps back into her features.

“That you give a shit about what happens to me. You’re not supposed to care about me after all this, Jackie.”

Jackie blinks, thinks. Her hands open again.

“Well, newsflash, I do care. It’s not something you get to decide on.”

And, God, how can she be so infuriating?

“Are you this stupid, Jackie?” how she relishes in seeing her jaw clench. “Just admit that it’s bullshit.”

“Is nothing ever gonna make you believe me?”

“You never gave me any reason.”

Jackie’s hands open and close at her sides. They’d tug on the edge of her shorts if it was still summer, but now grasp aimlessly at the empty air. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.”

“But it’s fine. It doesn’t matter now.” Shauna shrugs. She turns to walk the way back to the cabin through the cold mass of snow.

“Do you like doing this?” Jackie’s sharp voice stops her. “Do you enjoy being all mysterious about your feelings?” The only thing missing is her foot tapping on the ground. She’s crossed her arms and cocked her head like Shauna did something that obviously wasn’t in the plan for the game, and that’s why they missed scoring a goal. Disappointment. Just a little bit.

“What the fuck do you even mean?” Shauna replies. “They’re my thoughts. It’s none of your business.”

“Then don’t be mad at me when I clearly do something you don’t want me to.” Jackie closes the sentence with a puff of breath drifting up into the clear sky.

It’s not even something that offends her. It shouldn’t. For any other person it would be a simple observation, if laced with some slight pettiness. But nonetheless, it stokes annoyance into anger, and Shauna strides over faster than she anticipated herself, closer to the edge of the cliff than is presumed a safe distance, and holds the collar of Jackie’s coat with a tighter grip than is needed.

“You never did anything, Jackie,” she all but snarls. “That’s the whole point.”

“Shauna.” It’s intended as a warning, just like at parties or during competitive games. But her hands hold tightly at Shauna’s wrists because she’s never been on the receiving end of this furious arrow. Her eyes try to glance backwards to put attention on the drop that she can’t see. She swallows.

“You wouldn’t get away with it.”

“Who says that I want to?”

Admittedly, Shauna does briefly delight in the flicker of fear she sees. It’s there, the acknowledgment that she can hold some sway in whatever they have going on. So she decides to go further. A definitive step. The snip of a thread.

What surprises her the most, outside of the force she brings with it and a glimmer of something that had never been expressed in this way before, especially towards Jackie,

is that Jackie kisses her back.

11 DAYS

“They definitely did something,” Van half mumbles as they trek out into the woods again. She’s got the map folded up carefully inside one of the many layers of fabric that she’s wearing. Taissa doesn’t respond. Which is to be expected, since it’s not exactly Tai with her eye rolls at weird-ass besties braiding each other’s hair all of a sudden. This Taissa keeps a steady pace and knows no mercy despite the cold gnawing at their bones.

“Like, hear me out,” Van continues, “You don’t go from freezing each other out, to being all sad puppy and angry kitten, to sharing a blanket at the fire with no trouble.”

Maybe if she believes it hard enough, Taissa grunts something in agreement. But it’s the same routine that this Taissa puts up every time they go out in the night. They walk; she stops and seems to listen, to position them; they keep walking. It usually ends at another tree with a symbol and then Tai comes back to her and Van has to trace their steps back to the cabin. They’ve gotten better at this, despite the worsening conditions out in the wilderness. Taissa seems to be aware that she’ll wake up out here, and Van has gotten a knack for sharpening her own inner compass.

Right now — as she mentally goes over the map they’ve compiled — there are some paths they can trace from the symbol trees. One in the direction of the lake seems to be complete, as she’s not been led in that direction for the past few nights. Right now they are going towards the north, having marked some trees in the perimeter of the cabin in the meantime. The trouble with going north, however, is that each night they need to walk for much longer, and have to brave colder winds and more treacherous paths. Van doubts that even Natalie and Jackie go this far from the cabin.

“Taissa, shouldn’t we be going back?” It’s not that Van is worried about someone noticing they’re missing. Misty probably has already, but what is she going to do about it? The only rule put in place is that, for everyone’s own safety, they should only go out in groups of at least two. Which they’re complying with so suck on that, Quigley. But no, it’s that this is starting to look like new ground, and Van isn’t sure how far they can push it before her sleep addled mind can’t keep up with memorizing their way back to safety.

Taissa does stop to turn, but the blank expression there doesn’t seem too forthcoming.

“We’re almost there,” she simply states, and walks on.

Van grumbles and follows. She hugs her sweater and jacket tighter around her, keeping the lantern she brought as close as she can to feel the faintest warmth of the light. Taissa strides forwards while seemingly unaffected by the snow.

The stars twinkle above them, and owl hoots in the distance. The moss of the unfrozen tree stands out starkly amidst the white blanket around it.

“Oh thank fuck.” Van searches for the paper of the map, a stump of a pencil, and does her best to make a good guess at where this one is located. It’s an idea to walk back this way during the day so they can measure the distance more accurately, but—

“Stay close.”

“Hm?”

Van looks up at Tai, crouched down in front of her and looking off into the darkness.

“Taissa?”

The girl, still that other one, puts a finger to her lips.

There’s nothing to be heard. The sparse gusts of wind rustle the needles on the firs, but that is all for a moment. Her ears are straining without Van even meaning to do so, and it makes the step in the snow, somewhere in the dark, sound all the more terrifying.

“What the fuck,” she hisses.

There are more. Faster paced, like whatever is out there is dashing around them in circles.

“Oh fuck.” Van holds the lantern higher as her breath begins to quicken. It’s too warm. No, it’s too cold. She turns and spins to keep pace with the thing that’s stalking them and it feels like her organs will be crushed inside her body because teeth and snarls and howls and—

“Van!”

Taissa, her Tai, stops her from turning. Warm hands find her face and hold her steady, keeping her gaze with those soft brown eyes and Van holds onto it like a jutting rock in a roaring ocean.

“D-Do you hear that?” Van asks as she tries to steady her breath.

“I do,” Taissa notes. “Van, where are we?”

“Way up n-north. Half an hour from the cabin, I think.”

Taissa mutters a curse.

“Taissa? She said— You said that the trees would be safe.”

Taissa frowns at that. Van knows that she’s thinking, but the noise of the snow around them being crushed by another one — two of them, maybe even three — is getting on her nerves again.

“This isn’t normal.”

“No shit. Let’s go home. Please?” Van tugs on her sleeve. They haven’t attacked them yet. It’s worth a try. “The previous one is that way,” she says as she points with the lantern. “We can make it if we’re quick.”

It’s that and risking teeth and claws, or a certain death from the cold. She knows it, and Taissa knows it. The grip on her hand tightens as Taissa takes a deep breath in and exhales slowly. The things around them stop for a moment.

“Hold on tight.”

A glance, a squeeze, and they take off.

7 DAYS

She shouldn’t feel… jealous, and yet…

Shauna has been buzzing around Tai and Van ever since they burst into the cabin in the middle of the night. The panic has subsided since then, both the kind they’d brought to the others, Van raving about being hunted by things in the dark — Jackie doesn’t like the idea of that one bit — as well as Misty’s talk of toes or fingers falling off all blackened and dead if they didn’t take care of them soon.

But that has all been a while ago. The two of them are okay, and yet Shauna feels the need to watch their every move almost as closely as Misty. It’s a bit ironic, and Jackie could see the fun of it if she didn’t have her own reasons for wanting Shauna around.

It… might need more looking into, but whatever they have now is certainly better than how they were, even if it’s all very new — and exciting — to Jackie.

It’s not like everything is fixed between them now. Not that she had expected something like that, especially not when the progress was made with her almost falling off a cliff, but she has a better grasp on when to approach Shauna and when to leave her alone.

Right now it’s the former.

She crosses the floor of the attic without making too much noise, past Taissa and Van under their blanket and fast asleep, until she reaches Shauna sitting on their own mat.

“I don’t think they need you watching them nap, Shauna.”

Jackie easily slots into her side. Arms wrap around the waist, but not too tight. Shauna is prickly about that, even if she touches the bump more herself. Her chin finds its way onto her shoulder and the smell of her is there, faintly. It’s after dinner and outside the window the day is darkening once again. Ever since Coach Ben semi-seriously called for a curfew ever since Tai and Van came back home the days have been short and slow. A lot of the daily upkeep needs to be done in the daylight, but since Shauna is urged to not partake in any of the heavy lifting, Jackie has been staying in more and more, too.

But despite the lack of activity, Shauna can’t keep the yawn from escaping.

“Misty said that even after a few days they could get frostbite. Gotta make sure there’s nothing bad going on.”

“Shauna, they’re fine. It’s Tai and Van. They could make it if a meteor hit the earth.”

“They’d get out of here alive, is what you’re saying?” Shauna raises an amuses eyebrow, but there’s a sadness in her eyes. Jackie shrugs.

“You know what I mean,” she says as she huddles closer. “… We’ll get through this together.”

Shauna tenses up. It’s faint, but there. “Yeah. You might be right.”

“Might be? I know I am.” She dares to put a small kiss on her cheek. “We’re still here. Tomorrow is another day.”

“That’s true,” Shauna whispers. She groans as she tries to lie herself down on what passes for their bed. The fire from downstairs crackles faintly in the background. Lottie should still be awake and staying on guard. They’re safe. There’s nothing to harm them while they’re inside. Jackie could say that, but it would have little use. Whatever Shauna is afraid of is stuck to her. Every day might just be the day, and Jackie hates to admit that she doesn’t know how to make it more bearable.

What she can she shows by holding Shauna close; tucking the hair out of her face and without words have her believe that it’s all going to be okay.

Tomorrow is another day.

3 DAYS

“These are weird.”

Natalie readjusts the weight of the gun on her shoulder. It’s still early in the day, but you can never be sure. Lottie observes the map and the tree in front of them. The moss, the symbol… it’s too out of place to come up with an explanation that would make sense on any rational level. Lottie would probably be all too eager to accept such an explanation, but Nat still tries to be hesitant. She likes keeping her options open. But if Taissa Turner comes to you to say in a very serious tone of voice that there’s something that hunted them in the woods, then maybe you are wise to lean to a certain theory.

They actually found the tracks, shortly after they deemed it safe to head out and investigate. Jackie hasn’t been of any use, but Lottie is so far being a useful substitute while Travis has found his calling in helping Mari out with the rations and stirring the (literal) pot.

“This is the last one they marked,” Lottie says.

“The one where they got sniffed out?”

Lottie nods.

The woods aren’t too dense around these parts. It’s a good way from the cabin and up a hill. Not exactly the crest, but not far from it, either. Van had said that her lantern had shown nothing, which seems hard to believe. But there are more things that don’t let themselves be explained as easily.

“I’m going to see if there’s something up there,” Nat says, and drags her feet up the hill. Lottie follows at a distance, but doesn’t protest anything. She’ll make it known if she thinks they should head back to be ahead of the dark. Natalie not in the mood for Ben to scold her if they get back too late for dinner. She never thought she would ever have to think of that, but this is their reality now.

They reach the crest of the hill without any disturbances. The view is beautiful, but the same as always. An expanse of trees and rock; no sign of civilization.

“Where do you think they came from?” Lottie wonders aloud. Natalie lets it sink in.

“Could’ve been from anywhere. Van didn’t see.”

Lottie squints at the landscape.

“They need a home as much as we do.”

“No shit. Any living thing would like a warm bed out here.”

“That’s not what I mean, Nat.” Lottie kicks at the snow. “They didn’t hunt. Not in the way that we need to. We’re not taking the scraps of what they leave behind.”

“What are you thinking of?”

“Well,” Lottie turns to her fully. “If they were hunting Van and Tai, for real, I mean, then they certainly would’ve put in more effort to catch them, don’t you think? Van says that they circled them for a long time despite them being out in the open.”

Natalie sighs. She takes the first steps down the hill and on the path again that leads them back to the cabin. “Van was rambling about the symbol. If that kept them safe, then we got our answer, don’t we?”

It’s more that she hates thinking of something unknown out here, with them, that could have a better understanding of their surroundings than she has. Let it have a weakness, is what she hopes, even if it is something that should not make sense.

“Natalie, they haven’t been the only ones that have been out here, right?” Lottie catches up to her to walk at her side, looking at her and searching for something that agrees with her. “They could jump us now, or Jackie and Shauna, or Mari and Akilah, or Misty and Crystal. Why would they wait until that night?”

Natalie thinks, then stops. “When’s the moment you should watch out for wasps?” she asks Lottie.

It takes her a second, but then she nods.

“When you get too close to the nest.”

1 DAY

Misty Quigley is a good person. Misty Quigley is a good friend, the best you can have. This she repeats over and over and she bites the nail of her thumb anxiously. Was the cabin always this far from the cliff?

Misty Quigley is a good friend. She wouldn’t harm anyone that didn’t deserve it. No! Hold on. She wouldn’t harm anyone unless it was good for them. She did the right thing for Ben, and Crystal was a complete accident.

The tears are genuine. The dread is real. The loss is palpable.

There’s the cabin! Okay, now it is still important that they don’t find her, because they’ll obviously assume the worst, even if it isn’t true.

Misty Quigley is a good friend.

They’ll search for her. It will be alright.

If they find her broken form at the bottom of a cliff, then she might have a problem, but we’ll get there when we get there.

She didn’t suffer.

It’s better this way.

Misty Quigley is a great friend.

— 1

“Crystal!”

“Crystal!”

They alternate their shouts, but the snowstorm is getting increasingly louder. They have scarves wrapped around their faces, but Lottie still has to squint to see where she’s going. Jackie is keeping up, but the wind is getting worse and the cold is becoming unbearable.

“Lottie!” It’s almost a whisper on the wind. “We should go back! It’s getting too bad!” Jackie probably has the right idea. They have split up into twos and combed their strip for almost an hour before the storm began picking up. There’s no sign of life yet, but Lottie feels like there’s more if they just push on a little more.

“Let’s round by the cliff!” she calls back to Jackie, who seems to sigh despite her face being hidden.

All the trees are the same in this weather. It’s a habit that guides them to well-trodden but hidden paths.

“Crystal!”

They can’t even see the sky to guess what time of day it is. In the night it could very well be impossible to make it back to their shelter. There is a deadline, but for now they can keep taking every minute extra that’s offered to them.

“Crystal!”

The others are too far away to be heard. Maybe they’re already indoors and huddled at the fire for warmth, drying their socks and shoes at the hearth. If they don’t find her today, then it might as well be over for the girl. Misty said she lost her on the way back, and it’s not gotten that late or that cold yet.

“Crystal!” Lottie shouts. She surveys the surrounding blur of trees and then is suddenly stopped by an arm in front of her. Jackie taps her shoulder, then points ahead.

A silhouette in the fog of snow. It looks human enough to take the risk, but Lottie knows that Jackie is asking the same question. She too heard of Van’s story. They inch closer when the figure turns around in the same small circle. Color seeps into the mass of grays that the snow creates. Slowly, she can discern a floral-patterned jacket and a familiar posture.

“Crystal!” Jackie calls out first as she picks up the pace to reach her. The JV girl is taken by surprise, but takes the hug easily.

“We should get back!” Lottie calls out over the relief she feels. “It should be this way!” They take the shortcut that skips the cliff, through a thicker patch of trees and bush, but making the trek home shorter by a significant amount. Lottie joins Jackie in keeping Crystal upright with an arm under her shoulder. They practically have to drag her home, that’s how exhausted the girl must be. It doesn’t make the way back comfortable, but Lottie is already glad if they can get her inside the cabin while she’s still breathing.

“Hey!” she shouts when the outline of the house comes into view. “We need some help!” Some Yellowjackets jump of the porch to rush to their aid. The door opens as well with Ben in the opening to usher them inside. They were the last ones, all the others are here to look at them with surprise, amazement, relief.

Except for Misty.

When Jackie puts Crystal down near the fire and delegates some of the others to get towels, dry clothes, and get the bath running, Lottie has a moment to take in Misty’s wide eyes at the scenes as she shakes the snow from her coat and undoes the scarves around her head.

It’s not even a look of shock. Or perhaps it is, but not the good kind.

For the first time in a long while, and despite keeping an eye out for the telltale signs that something is not real, Lottie begins to worry that she’s seeing something that may not be what it seems.

There's something moving under
Under the ice
Moving under ice
Through water
Trying to (It's me)
Get out of the cold water (It's me)
Something (It's me!)
Someone help them!

- from “Under Ice” by Kate Bush

END OF ACT 1

Chapter Text

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself in another part of the world
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife

And you may ask yourself, “Well, how did I get here?”

— from “Once in a Lifetime” by Talking Heads

ONE
MONTH
HENCE

“Shauna, careful.”

Jackie paces around the ladder as Shauna descents. The time has at last come that they’re moving their sleeping arrangement downstairs. Ben had offered up his bed, but for now Shauna sticks to her stubbornness and is adamant about staying on the floor with the others.

Jackie is worried, that much is evident. They all are, but she fidgets the most and double or triple checks when Shauna isn’t around to roll her eyes at it. Ben understands it, even if he hasn’t been in the situation himself. Paul, thank fuck, hadn’t gotten hurt more than any other person, but Ben knows that he wouldn’t have been any better than Jackie — or for that matter, better than Misty — at staying calm about it.

Crystal ended up alright, even if she still seems a bit shook up by the whole ordeal of being lost in the woods for hot minute. To the JV’s relief: her renditions of various musical hits have tuned down significantly. The only one who seems to miss them is Misty, but Misty has always been odd like that. The hole situation, as much as he hates feeling glad about it, has kept her off his back.

“Already getting sick of the domesticity?” Natalie slides into his corner of the cabin, comfortably separated from the buzz that is sparked by Jackie’s idea for a new sleeping bag arrangement.

“On the contrary,” he says, “I like to imagine that we’re at summer camp.”

“Hmm,” Nat smiles, shoving his shoulder. “Wish I had your powerful imagination.”

They watch as even Jackie grows frustrated with Crystal, delegating her to do some other task outside and handing over the last pieces of the blanket puzzle over to Gen to figure out.

“How is it? Out there, I mean.”

Ben has an idea, but that is all communicated to him by either Natalie or Travis. Maybe another one of the girls, but those accounts he happens to overhear mostly by accident. Few stray far from the cabin these days, and Ben least of all.

“Cold as shit,” Natalie states plainly. “There’s barely anything to see. Sometimes I think we are the only living things for miles around us.”

“I think we should be halfway through winter…” At the sound of Nat’s heavy sigh, Ben adds, “Which may not sound good, but it does give us some perspective; some timeframe to work with.”

“Saying that,” Nat lowers her voice, “I doubt we can last without getting another kill on our hands. The bear is drying up, and that moose isn’t going to last us for the same amount of time, no matter how much we may try to ration it.”

“We have time to figure it out.” Ben takes his crutches to get up from the bench at the window.

“Do we?” Nat has that steely glint in her eyes. Her ‘are you the adult here, or am I?’ stare. “Best-case scenario, or worst case, we’ll have another mouth to feed soon.”

Ben doesn’t answer. His gaze drifts to Shauna without him meaning to. He has no idea of the exact number of weeks. Who even could, with it having happened before the crash. That, and their current situation is not really applicable to your everyday pregnancy. Nothing like the video tapes in sex-ed classes. He hopes that Misty has an idea of how to tackle this, because from Ben’s perspective, they might as well be handling a ticking time-bomb.

“I’m going outside for a minute,” he says to Natalie.

“Don’t stray too far.”

Ben hums in reply. He pushes the door open with his shoulder and makes sure to put his crutches over the doorstep first before stepping out onto the porch. The snow has piled up higher, dimming the sound to something almost comfortable. Travis is clearing some of the paths from the heaviest packet of white, and Van and Taissa are getting more wood together. Crystal sits on a log at the campfire, observing them.

He almost feels sorry for her, given how much Misty has been avoiding her. Not that he exactly applauded their friendship, for Crystal’s sake. Misty is a lot, but it’s unlike her to sink a friendship on a whim.

Ben makes the decision to move off the porch. It might fall under what Natalie considers being too far, at least for him, but it can’t hurt to check in with the girl. Any kind of isolation is bad out here.

“Hey, Crystal,” he calls ahead to greet her, but nothing in her posture betrays that she heard him.

“Holding up okay?” Ben continues as he moves to sit down next to her, startling her in the process.

“Sorry,” he smiles sheepishly, but Crystal shakes her head at him.

“No problem.” And her eyes are back on the two chopping wood.

She’s not been too chatty these days. Perhaps the being-lost-in-the-snow part hit her harder than it did Jackie. It’s usually the bubblier types with whom the difference is the starkest.

“Say, did anything happen between you and Misty?” Ben asks.

Crystal tilts her head. “Misty?” she thinks. “Not in particular. Why?”

Ben shrugs. “I was just thinking. You two were so close before, it made me think you had a fight or something.”

“Oh!” Crystal breaks out into a smile. “Oh, no, nothing like that. I lost my way. It had nothing to do with her.”

“If you say so,” Ben says, but he doesn’t feel that reassured by it.

Asking Misty about it is too big of a hurdle, though.

“Is it gonna be like this the whole time?” Travis cuts in from in front of them. Lottie gives Nat a look, waiting for her to answer this, but Nat just shrugs.

“Something to fill the silence, right?”

Travis grumbles. “I thought you wanted to actually catch something today…” he mutters, but turns back and continues leading them along the trail. Lottie and Natalie follow him as they trek further north in search of food and… other things. They haven’t involved Travis into what has been happening out here, for the less of the others know the better, but he is the more experienced to take along and make sure that they’re safe.

“We can’t go too much further,” Travis says eventually. “We don’t have this part mapped out. Could be dangerous, this far north.”

Lottie goes to rest against a tree. Snow flutters down from its branches in the sunlight. “We could take a look around? See if there’re any markers?” Lottie proposes. It’s the reason that she came along on this walk in the first place. There’s no place among the hunters for her, but she can still contribute to this new problem that’s on their hands.

Travis combs a hand through his hair. “Sure,” he simply replies.

To avoid giving Travis the suspicion that he’s excluded from something, Lottie doesn’t tag along with Natalie. They make a separate scouting trip along the slope of where Travis stays behind, agreeing to be back in ten minutes max. They didn’t stop at exactly the same spot that Taissa and Van ran into trouble, but the general area seems about right. What doesn’t make it easier, however, is that every tree looks about the same as its neighbor. If they would find something of note, it better have a good way-point near it.

Lottie takes care to keep Travis in her field of vision the whole time. It’s not that she thinks she’s at a bad stage yet. She’s not even sure what ‘bad’ constitutes in her case, but prevention is always better than having to clean up the mess. Plus, Natalie has already been side-eyeing her at moments, and Lottie would prefer if it at least could be kept between the two of them. Otherwise, Misty might just get overexcited by the amount of people she thinks she has to shadow.

Travis leans against the tree and looks close to lighting a cigarette, if they had any left. Lottie knows that Natalie brought some on the plane. She always had some packed during away games, and Lottie had considered amicably blackmailing her into sharing one, but it seems like that is out of the question now. She doesn’t feel any animosity more towards Travis. He’s been through enough at this point.

Putting her attention back onto the snow doesn’t yield much in terms of results, either. The snow is as undisturbed as ever. No bird’s feet, no paws of rabbits, no hooves of deer.

Maybe they know.

Maybe they’re more careful about covering their tracks.

Lottie knows that at this point, these are pretty logical questions, but thinking this way is dangerous.

Thinking it might make it more real than it actually is.

Deep, steady breaths of the cool air ground her a bit more. Her fingers are freezing; she can feel them becoming hotter in the raggedy gloves she stitched together. Looking back at Travis shows him observing the scene impatiently. Cleary he doesn’t see the point of all this anymore, so Lottie drags herself back up the hill.

“Nothing, huh?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound accusatory. Lottie shakes her head.

“No.”

“We should head back. It’ll be even colder in the twilight.” He pats some snowflakes off the gun. “Nat!”

“What?!” Her voice comes from a distance.

“We’re heading back!”

“Give me a minute, Jesus!”

Natalie looks a bit silly, striding up the hill with big steps and the layers of coats. Lottie can simply not smile at it, with Nat’s pace being the same as when Shauna got carded again. She lets out a big breath when she reaches the two of them, putting out her arms as if to say ‘Well? What are you waiting for?’, at which Travis rolls his eyes and turns them in the right direction again.

Natalie has that wild look about her. The kind that is there when she’s about to hop a fence or pass around some of her contraband under coach’s nose.

“Did you have any luck?” Lottie asks her when they’ve fallen behind Travis a bit.

“You betcha.” Nat has kept her hands in the pockets of her jacket, now carefully removing one as she opens her fist to Lottie.

A buttercup. Bright yellow and fresh from the ground.

“A mossy tree down the hill and to the east. It has this tunnel in its roots and, Lottie,” Natalie’s face breaks into a giddy smile, “it’s summer over there.”

They share one of the bigger mats again. The fire crackles in the hearth and provides the bare minimum to light Shauna’s face. Her dark eyes shine in the dark as they look at Jackie toying with a strand of her hair.

It’s a welcome change; this closeness. Even if the whole thing has Jackie a bit confused about how exactly she is supposed to feel about it. Shauna hasn’t kissed her again, nor has Jackie made any attempt at it. Shauna could always have changed her mind, after all. Maybe having their hands touch and leaning on each other’s shoulders in enough for her. Or like this: sharing a blanket and feeling the warm breath of the other on their chin.

“What do you think would happen,” Jackie asks with a whisper, cautious to not wake up anyone else again, “when we get home?”

Shauna makes an almost hurt sound. Ever the pessimist.

“Please, just indulge me,” Jackie adds.

Shauna shifts on her spot, tucking one hand under her head and putting the other down just in front of it so that her pinkie might graze Jackie’s

“If we get home,” she begins, “I think they would keep us in a hospital for observation and such from a few days to a week. Depending on where that is, they’d either bring us back home or have our parents pick us up.”

“And then? What would yours do?”

Shauna rolls her eyes. “Well, if mom would even allow my dad to come, though I think in this case she’ll make an exception, they’d both probably be very emotional, hug a lot, and maybe mom would break her own rule and make the best brisket she can for both of us.”

“Does your dad like it that much?”

Shauna snorts. “No, Jax, for us. It may not be exactly Hanukkah, but she’d want to celebrate it just as much with you as always. Including the brisket.”

Shauna means it, that much she can see. “I’d like that,” Jackie says with a smile and lets her eyes wander further down.

“How do you think your mom would feel about…?” Right now it’s obscured by blankets, but Shauna knows the direction.

“She’d scold me, probably. Wonder how I could be so stupid. A lot of it would first be overshadowed by how relieved she’d be, but you can’t exactly ignore being a grandma all of a sudden.” She bites her lip. “That is all, of course, if I’d even be there to see her reaction to it.” Her eyes avert.

Jackie wants to say that, yeah, duh, obviously she’ll make it to see her mom. They all will, if it were up to anyone, but the harsh reality of the situation has a habit of reminding them of itself in the worst moments. She drops the strand of hair and puts her hand on Shauna’s instead.

“Of course you will,” Jackie says with as much confidence as she can muster, and hesitates briefly before taking Shauna’s hand and bringing the knuckles to her lips. “I’ll make sure of it, okay?”

Whether Shauna believes it is a whole different thing. Jackie is already happy with being able to make such a promise, as daunting and as impossible to keep it might be. She knows just as much about pregnancies and all that as… Crystal? The point is that it’s not a lot, but if the gesture of being there for Shauna is what keeps her going, then it is enough.

“Gee, thanks,” Shauna mumbles. Crisis averted. She doesn’t move as if to pull her hand away, keeping it in Jackie’s instead. It’s warm, even if nights in the past week have barely been comfortable, even with the fire.

“Just like you said,” Shauna says with a voice trailing off into sleep, “We’ll get through this together…” Her breath evens out like the others around them. Jackie doesn’t feel that tired yet, but puts their foreheads together and tries her best to fall asleep too.

The only interruption is the door of the cabin opening and the bone-chilling draft from outside entering their shelter briefly. Over Shauna’s shoulder, Jackie just about catches sight of a person with a flower-speckled coat leaving the cabin.

Crystal is dead.

The problem is that she doesn’t seem to be, and nobody else knows the truth. And it’s also unlikely that anyone would readily believe Misty if she were to tell someone what she thinks is going on, not in the least because anyone with some suspicion towards her — read: everyone — would follow-up with asking her in return how exactly she’s so sure that Crystal is as dead as can be.

Crystal is dead. Her body is at the bottom of a cliff, and Misty killed her.

Even if it could technically be regarded as an accident, but it’s not like that would make a difference in her case. Her presence here is somewhat necessary, but if there’s a good enough reason, Misty thinks they might as well throw her out into the wilderness and leave her prey for whatever it is that walks there.

She’s not yet sure if Crystal is the only one, as she watches the girl closely from behind the kitchen window.

“Those dishes won’t wash themself,” Mari jabs at her as she walks by, pulling Misty out of her thoughts.

“It’s not really washing if we don’t have any disinfectant, Mari.”

But Mari just scowls at that and goes on with whatever her chore of the day is. The cards are fine as a randomized assignment system, but Misty can’t help but think that Mari is cheating at it. She always gets the worst of the tasks.

Nonetheless, Misty scrubs away at the bowls and plates with the damp and possibly moldy scrubber.

“Don’t mind Mari, I think she stepped with her sock in some snow this morning.”

Jackie gives a playful shove at Misty’s shoulder and picks up a dry spare towel to dry the plates with.

“Something up?”

Misty shrugs. She doubts that Jackie would be of any actual help for Misty’s current problem, despite her contributing more in terms of physical labor. Maybe she can phrase it ambiguously, see where that goes.

“It’s just…” she sighs. “Me and Crystal haven’t exactly been the best of buds since she got lost. I’m really happy that you and Lottie found her, but she still seems shaken by it, even if it was weeks ago.” She turns to look at Jackie with a pout. “It just feels like she’s not my friend anymore.”

Jackie frowns in thought, but a sympathetic smile graces her face shortly after.

“I’m sure she doesn’t mean it like that, Misty. Remember when I got caught up in the snow?” she waves her hands around a bit. “Wasn’t really my best moment, either. Crystal’s had it rough, and she’s been very peppy, but maybe she’s, like, having a hard time with a brush that close to, you know…” Jackie leaves it hanging in the air, like it’s a bad thing to say because it might just cause some bad luck. If only she knew.

“I guess…”

“I think you should just go talk with her. Maybe not about super serious things, you know, but just to get her out of her shell a bit more. A distraction may be all that she needs.”

She nudges Misty with her elbow.

“Or would you like me to check in on her?” It’s an honest question. Jackie has no reason to set Crystal — whoever she is — up against Misty, but she can’t help but be hesitant.

“Why would you want to do that?” she half-snorts and pushes up her glasses.

“Well, eh, I don’t know,” know it’s Jackie’s turn to shrug. “Maybe so you don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing? I get that because, with Shauna, it was kinda similar. I really was second-guessing every word I was saying to her, even if it didn’t go so bad in the end. Could save you that trouble.”

“Hmmm.” Having Jackie on her side wouldn’t be a bad thing… “Could you… talk to her? I don’t think she has any grudge towards me, but, yeah…”

“No problem,” Jackie says with a grin.

She doesn’t leave immediately. They finish the dishes together and put them away on the correct spot. Crystal hasn’t moved from her spot at the empty firepit when Jackie heads outside, wrapped up against the cold.

From behind the kitchen window, Misty watches closely as they strike up a chat.

Van slurps her hot ham water with delight. Okay, it may not be ham, but it’s the thought that counts. She’s never had moose or bear before, but it comes close enough to ham to make the comparison. That, or she’s forgotten what ham must taste like entirely. The little bits of actual meat are the best part of it, and she doesn’t spoon them around in disgust, but rather to keep herself a little entertained and savor the meal for as long as possible.

No story time tonight. Natalie is hogging the deck of cards and dealing them around like it’s the bleachers on a Friday after practice. The only thing missing is a cigarette on her lip as she asks them all to put something on the line and make it a good round of poker.

That there are no queens in the deck is fixed by putting the hierarchy in reverse.

The playing party consists of the Varsity team excluding Mari, who is having more fun gossiping with Gen (if there’s even anything left to gossip about).

Jackie plays along with Shauna for two rounds to get the hang of the game, and Van does her best to use her closeness with Taissa to her advantage. Not mean spirited, just to tease her.

“Only two chips? You got a winning hand right there, Tai!” she exclaims as Taissa’s face darkens in embarrassment.

“Shut up!” But she does slide more pine cone flakes into the pot.

“Is this cheating?” Lottie asks Nat. “Is it cheating if she’s making herself lose?”

“Van, please, give the others a chance.” Nat sighs with a smile, and shuffles the deck again upon Taissa’s reveal of her three of a kind.

“Big plans for tomorrow? I hear the weather’s clearing up.” Van gives her cards a look. They’re a bit shit, if she has to say so herself. But this is just the start. Anything can be dealt from here.

“Me and Lottie are going for a walk around the park,” Nat replies. “Unless Jackie is joining us, too. It has been a while, hasn’t it, Jack?”

“Oh yeah, but, uuuh,” Jackie flounders there.

“Jackie’s helping me pick out a new wallpaper for the living room.” Shauna fills it in without lifting up her frown from her own hand. Must be equally bad this round then. Van makes sure to file it away.

“Right! We’ll be doing that.” Jackie nods, all perked up. “How about you two?” she asks Van.

“Well, I’m taking the day off work,” Van says as she throws in her cards to fold. “Don’t know what the missus has in mind.” She settles back to watch the rest of the game in peace. Putting her hands behind her on the floor to lean back and—

“Ah!” Van jerks her right hand back sharply from the fuzzy thing that it touched.

“Van?”

She twists around to see if a spider scatters away — and a big one at that; it felt like — but sees nothing.

“You okay?” Jackie asks, scooting away and looking behind her own back.

“Oh, yeah,” Van breathes, “I think Mari’s bug paranoia may have jumped on me.” She laughs it off, waving away the concerned looks she gets from the others. “There’s no tarantula’s this far up North.”

Lottie’s face pulls into a scowl. “Gross,” she mutters, and raises by eight flakes.

“I don’t know, Van. These woods have surprised me quite a bit ever since we got here. Shauna, your turn.”

“Yeah, but an albino moose is a whole different league of odd than a tarantula. Moose live here.”

“I asked for your turn in the game, Shauna, not a biology lesson.” Nat gestures for her to hurry up as Shauna folds with a frustrated sound. Jackie takes twenty glances between her hand and the chips still in her corner before shoving them all into the center of their circle.

“I’ll go all-in!” she says with a smile, then turns to Shauna. “That’s what it’s called, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Shauna takes a peek at Jackie’s cards, and Van hates her for keeping her face blank as she merely comments a “huh.”

Taissa glances sideways at Van, but Van shrugs. Might as well be as good of a hand as she makes it out to be. Taissa takes that and throws her cards in. Lottie follows shortly after.

“Oh my god…” the sneaky smile growing on Shauna’s face is positively disgusting. “You all fell for that?!” She bursts into a laugh as Jackie sticks up her arm with an open fan of cards, a completely random collection with zero value.

“Thank you, thank you,” she says as she does a theater bow to the others.

Natalie collects the cards again, quirking up an eyebrow but stashing the pack away when the others silently decline.

“Okay, but if I can be serious,” Jackie says as they clear out the pine chips and pass around the bedding, “and if I can trust all of you, I have this thing…”

They huddle close and, well, Van can get what Mari is at because she won’t pass on some gossip either.

“What’s up?” Taissa asks.

“Crystal,” Jackie says, lowering her voice to a whisper and glancing across the room. “She’s been acting weird. Like, really weird.”

THE ART OF WHITTLING

Whittling is a time-consuming practice. It takes a keen eye, a trained and steady hand, and the right tools to make the investment worthwhile. What frequent newcomers to the craft aren’t aware of is that the planning out of the shape before carving is as important as the carving process itself. Just like a painter observes and sketches out their planned image, so, too, should a whittler pay careful attention to all the details. If a project is made up of different parts, where do all of these go? Should they connect?

Whittling is therefore different from carving wood for statues and other art pieces. Though utilizing the same basic action of putting a blade to wood, carving a statue takes even more time and effort, especially if it is commissioned. Wooden statues have grown out of fashion because of them being prone to damage and changes in humidity. A well-crafted statue requires just as much aftercare upon its completion. Cracks in the surface are still bound to appear, but to some this adds more charm to a hand-crafted object.

Though statues aren’t found often anymore, wood-carving is still very much present in antique furniture. A dying craft, it may not be long before it becomes a rarity to find a person capable enough to make a truly enchanting work.

In folklore, there is not much mention of wood carving. Carpentry is a more common stand-in, but this takes an even more practical approach. A good carpenter is, after all, a useful asset to a community, so one should not be surprised about this matter. On all fronts; carving wood means to hold power over it. Creating a shape out of raw material is considered in any medium to be a truly artistic endeavor, sometimes put solely with humans, though this has been discredited. Various animals engage in creating art, but few utilize tools to break something else apart in order to fulfill the creation process.

The more magical use of wood carving is, therefore, usually done by humanoid creatures in fairytales. Dwarves work with stone, while fae and elves take to the wood. An interesting thing can be observed when it comes to the case of the “fetch”, sometimes referred to as a “stock”. Not to be confused with the common English use of the word, for it has nothing to do with soup. The German definition of the word amounts to something like “stick”. Many Germanic and some Scandinavian share the definition, though some spell it without the c (stok).

The creation — or being — that is the “stock” in folklore can then be seen as a very literal use of the German word, for it usually exists of either a bundle of sticks, or a piece of wood carved into a likeness. Due to enchantment, it is hard for others to notice that a switch has taken place, and, like its sibling the changeling, the original is usually taken to a much different realm entirely.

The foundational difference, however, is that a changeling is another living being, while a stock may very well be merely an apparition.

Chapter Text

Morning: Crystal stays in long with the rest. Doesn’t talk much. Doesn’t do tasks on her own volition.

Afternoon: Stays outside for long periods of time. Unbothered by cold? Can seem spaced-out. Not very responsive.

Evening: Eats her portion, but slowly. Goes immediately to sleep when told to, but leaves the cabin once or twice at night. Unknown where to. Is always back before the hunting party leaves.

This makes up what they’ve gathered so far. The excuses and explanations of lack of energy or lingering shock aside, it doesn’t paint a pretty picture. But what the picture exactly is, is still unclear to them. Though none of them audibly float the idea, it’s in all their thoughts that this might not be the Crystal that they crashed with.

Shauna’s log at least bears little resemblance to the few notes of Crystal that were in her entries before Misty had lost her in the woods. Everywhere else they have to rely on their memory, but even those differences are stark.

“We should ask Misty,” Shauna proposes. “She was the closest to her, and she was the one who pointed all this out first. It's nothing like Crystal to be upset."

“Does this Crystal look like she can even be upset?” Taissa sighs with more noticeable frustration than she would like. Shauna would agree with her; this isn’t making much sense.

“I do think we should ask Misty,” she says again. “In a way, we want to help her, too.”

In reality, involving Misty is not at the top of Shauna’s list. Not when the near future already has enough risk at Misty in it, given that she’s starting to feel like this whole pregnancy thing is coming to an end soon. Yes, she should be glad that someone like Misty is even here to begin with. As crazy, and surreal, and desperate as this all is to Shauna.

“Maybe something happened when they got lost. She could tell us about that.”

“She could, but I doubt it she wants to, if it’s anything serious.”

Shauna drinks her ‘tea’, or whatever passes for it in the watered down substance of pine needles. The others are all out, Taissa is keeping her company. Most of her days are spend indoors, both due to Jackie’s worry, and her own increasing difficulty at feeling useful.

Death looms at every corner. Not that it didn’t before, but Shauna has found herself thinking of it more and more often.

“It’s going to be okay.” Tai’s arm moves across her shoulders, pulling her into a half-hug. “I’m sure it will.”

“I don’t know, Tai, with everything that’s happened—”

“With everything that’s happened, I think we are long overdue on some miracle.” She smiles, but it falters quickly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s going to be fine. It’s not a game of chance. We have the stuff we need, and you are stubborn enough to make it through.”

“Hmm,” Shauna snort, “Thanks, I guess?” She doesn’t voice her disagreement that, from her point of view, chance has everything to do with this. Chance saved the bulk of the passengers, and chance sucked Coach Martinez out of the door and impaled Rachel. The coin could flip either way.

“If anything, Jackie will hound all our asses if something happens to you.” Taissa grimaces. “Never thought I’d admit it, but she’s really pulled herself together these past weeks.”

“Don’t let her hear it.”

“Duh. But I mean it, Shauna. It’s good we have her with us out here.”

It’s here that Taissa gets up from the bench, stretching out and sighing at the prospect of heading outside again. “I’ll go see how far they’ve made it with the logs. We might plan to head out into the woods if the others want to rope Misty in, too.”

Taissa disapproves of her putting too much strain on herself, but she was right about Shauna being stubborn.

“Let me know when you’re going and I’ll be ready.”

She gets a tight nod. Once Taissa goes out the door, Shauna is all alone in the living room. With this privacy she flips to the next empty page in the journal, and taking the crudely sharpened pencil, she writes her thoughts down.

Mom once said that people can shift into survival-mode when they ’re under sudden and heavy stress. Saw it in the ER sometimes. Those usually pass after a few days, but I wonder if the long stretches that we’ve been stuck in are causing something irreversible. Who will I be when we/if we ever go home? Would she still recognize me?

That is all within the realm of possibility, what I could have thought of in the first days of this shithole. Right now, all things considered, I might even be more worried about something else taking my place. Would the others notice? Would Jackie? Would my own mother?

Lottie knows roughly how long she’s been without her meds. Though the exact progress of her whole thing is a bit murky to her, especially since, well, she wouldn’t be noticing the decline of her mental state herself. So it must be a good sign that the others haven’t said anything to her face.

It must therefore be a good thing that she is seeing exactly what Natalie is pointing at; a crevice between the thick roots of a tree that is offering a glimpse of luscious grass and flowers beyond its naturally formed gate.

“I know you don’t think I am, but I knew I wasn’t crazy when I saw this,” Nat says to her in a whisper. She has the rifle ready in her hands, just in case anything dashes out from the tunnel; be it predator or prey. “Do you think it could have anything to do with…?”

Natalie doesn’t like to acknowledge the uncomfortable reality of something being out here. Lottie is understanding of it; they already have so much going on, so much to be wary of. Something like this could be the thing that breaks the back of some.

“With Crystal?” Lottie supplies, and waits for Natalie’s shrug.

“Who knows where she goes at night? It might as well be here.”

It is a possibility, even if the hike would take a while. There’s no telling how inconvenienced this Crystal exactly is by the darkness of the night, but it could not be more than the benefit of giving her a good cover. Following her would be too risky; even the more experienced amongst them could get lost in the night.

And who knows what might happen then?

So, Lottie decides to say something crazy.

“Do you want to check it out?”

It’s out before she can reconsider it. Maybe she should have, seeing Nat’s eyes grow wide.

“Check it out?! What the fuck is your plan, Lott?”

“Nothing? We can just go in, scout it, and go back to, like, strategize?”

“…Strategize?” Nat’s cheeks puff up from the groan she’s desperately trying to keep in. “Lottie, we’re not going to wage war on whatever this is,” she says, exasperated, while waving at the tunnel. “It’s the last thing I would want, at least.”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that.” Lottie says it as she relents and gets to her feet, feeling her knees ache at being on her haunches for so long. “We can leave it for now.”

“That’s a relief.” The sarcasm is palpable. Nat should know as well as any that this isn’t going to be something that they’ll drop for a few days. Whatever is going on with the others is tied to this place. Lottie is sure of that.

Natalie double checks to make sure that this tree is the same one she came across when they were out here with Travis. She had put it on Ben’s map as just a regular marker, no notes, so that it wouldn’t get any unwarranted attention. It’s useful to not have to rely on their memory completely out here. That could make things tricky.

“Anyway, we got something else to think about,” Nat says as they trek into familiar patches of tree clusters. “On for another game tonight?” she says, picking chips off a pinecone.

“Obviously, dork.”

“I checked the place five times, Van. There are no spiders here.”

And yet the sensation still clings to her fingers. Fuzzy, like hair. It probably wasn’t even a spider at all, but it’s the closest that comes to it. Taissa wouldn’t like it more fantastical than that, anyway.

“My hero,” Van grins at her instead in the candlelight. “Now come to bed with me, pretty please?” She pats the mat next to hers, and Tai slots right into the spot where she belongs. Having the attic to themselves these days is quite the luxury when it comes to privacy. The bonus of not having to hide their relationship around the others anymore doesn’t hurt, either.

“You’re not seeing things too, are you?” Taissa asks her after the candle has already been extinguished.

“I think the whole point of eyes is that they make you see things.”

“Stop that,” Tai snorts. “You know what I mean.”

Van could already see them there; the creases in Taissa’s face that would put these semi-permanent frowns in her skin if — according to Jackie that time at Lottie’’s place — she didn’t watch out. What Van would give to see them settle in there.

If they ever make it out of here.

“Like what? Crystal?” she says instead. “There’s something going on there, but I’m not sure what you’re fishing for, Miss Turner.”

“Well, for starters, the others are way too excited to label all this another case of wilderness mumbo-jumbo. She’s in shock.”

“Taissa—”

“I know you don’t agree with me there, so let me put it differently.” A hand tucks the hair out of Van’s face and briefly lingers on the scar over her cheek; a fingertip tracing it down towards her mouth and slipping off there. “If we don’t get involved, there’s not going to be any risk of someone getting hurt.”

“Won’t that make us sitting ducks?” Van rolls onto her back. The roof creaks above her in the wind. The cold digs in where it reaches her skin past blankets and clothes. “Whatever it is, Tai, I don’t think it’ll play nice. The rules are different here.”

“Believe me, I know.”

After that, it’s quiet for a while. Van can hear from her breathing that Taissa isn’t falling asleep yet, so she gathers her words and breaks the silence first.

“I did feel something, that time at poker.” When Tai doesn’t interrupt or reply to her, she continues on. “I don’t think it was a spider. It felt more like a tassel, like those that Lottie’s parents had on the living room curtains before the big mansion makeover in the sixth grade.”

“Not like this place has the budget for those.”

“Ha, right?”

“And you’re sure you touched it and didn’t see anything?”

Van swallows. “Yeah.” She turns back to face Taissa. There’s none of the bitter skepticism there that she half-expected. Taissa cares. She always does, but sometimes has a weird way of showing it. “To be honest, Tai,” Van continues in a whisper, “I’ve been having moments like that ever since…”

She doesn’t like to dwell on it. The dreamlike visions from her own pyre, from Doomcoming.

Taissa takes one of her hands. The warmth of it spreads steadily into her arm.

“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

And from the tone of it, that’s Taissa’s final word on it. The jury shall now withdraw to discuss their verdict. Meeting adjourned. She does shift closer, fitting neatly into the crook of Van’s neck.

“There’s nothing to worry about now. Let’s first catch some sleep.”

Taissa is quick to go under. Van has adopted the habit of staying up longer because of the whole sleepwalking thing. She keeps an ear out for whatever may happen on the ground floor and wanders more inside her head.

A door opens and closes softly.

A tail. What if it was a tail?

Taissa sits up.

Van blinks at her, sitting there stock-still for a second before she shifts her feet and gets fully up to her feet.

“Taissa,” Van hisses, but it’s no use. This is the other one.

“Follow me,” this Tai says with a flat voice, and Van has to rush to get her shoes on and follow her down the ladder. Taissa steps over bodies and through mats without waking anyone, but Van is much more unsure of her footing, and has to sprint out the door before she loses sight of her own goddamn girlfriend going for a walk in the middle of the wilderness.

She catches up, and Taissa walks on without acknowledging it.

“Where are we going?” Van asks, since at this point she knows that just going along with this Tai works as well as any other sleepwalker.

Taissa keeps silent, but raises her arm to point ahead. Van has to squint to make out anything between the shifting trees and the little light from the moon, but there it is.

A person walking ahead of them.

“You sure about this?”

Taissa nods. They keep hot on the trail, like hounds with a scent.

When Misty woke up that morning, she didn’t expect her day to go like this. Minding her own business — as per usual, bearing the glares of Mari and avoidance by the rest — she dutifully works her way through the latest chore around the cabin when Natalie approaches her.

“Misty, you got a minute?”

So, naturally, being the emotionally neglected puppy that Misty Quigley is, she immediately clings to this interaction with glee.

“Of course! What’s up?”

Her peppiness isn’t met with similar energy, but that is just who Natalie is. It already means a lot that she doesn’t cringe.

“We wanted to go out on a hike, the lot of us,” Nat says, shrugging as if it is an everyday activity to break the slump. Office people around the lunch hour and all that, or so Uncle Mike had told her once about his job near Wall Street.

“Sure. Any direction in mind? Nature is really cool out here when you take a moment to appreciate it.” She follows Natalie, already on the move and nearing ‘the others’, who consist of Taissa, Lottie, Van, and Jackie. Shauna is there, too. However, from what Misty had roughly estimated, and her sitting on a log as opposed to standing at the ready with the others, it seems logical to deduce that she’s staying behind. Misty’s trying to brush up on her knowledge of Coach Scott’s Sex-Ed class, but that was quite a while ago, and she doesn’t have her notes with her out here.

Even for Misty, it’s hoping for the best.

“All ready?” Taissa asks them. The answer is mute but unanimous. Natalie pats Misty on the shoulder to guide her along with them, rushing Jackie in helping Shauna up and giving her a quick hug before sprinting to catch up to them.

The small talk buzzes around her, and though Misty isn’t a direct part of any conversation, mingling amongst them already lifts her spirits considerably.

“Have you ever been this far out, Misty?” Jackie asks her after a while. “Me and Nat have been around the hills a lot. I’m never sure how much of the others have explored that far.”

Misty shakes her head. “No, I haven’t. They really do need me around the cabin.”

Jackie hums at that, but doesn’t follow it up with another question.

“Of course I would, uh, love to join you sometime!” Misty beams.

“I gotta check with Nat about that, but sure, I’ll ask her.”

Natalie probably heard them already, judging from the glance she shoots back during her talk with Lottie. Not that it shows if she would say yes or no to that hypothetical invite, but Misty is experienced with that kind of polite refusal of inviting her.

At some point during their walk, Misty doesn’t know exactly how long after their departure from the cabin, Lottie heads up the line to take Taissa aside and point her in a direction. This is uncharted territory for Misty, but it’s clear that the others have been here before.

“Yeah, so, we had a question,” Natalie says as she moves to her side. “If you had ever been here with Crystal.”

It’s serious. Not a usual question, nothing out of mere curiosity. Nat’s eyes are steely and ready to pick up on anything that might give her an answer.

“Oh, no,” Misty says to her, honestly. “Not around here. We didn’t go further than the bucket cliff.” It’s a dangerous move, but hiding in plain sight has helped before sometimes.

They slow near a particular tree. Taissa points at it.

“And you’ve never seen this before?”

She hasn’t. Not in this season, at least. The lush entrance between the roots is right out of a scene in summer. Misty can imagine the warmth of the sun on her skin just by looking at it. All eyes are on her, with different emotions behind them. Van is fidgety; Taissa and Natalie are focused; Lottie has her thoughts on something else; and Jackie is nervous, picking at her nails as they wait for Misty to answer.

“Uhm, I haven’t no.” She tilts her head at it. “What is that even?”

Taissa ignores her question. “So you and Crystal never went here, have never seen this before?”

“No. Why?”

“We saw Crystal go here,” Van answers. “At night. Last night, at least. We think she goes here every time she leaves the cabin.”

“Since you’re her best friend,” Taissa continues, “she probably would’ve told you about this, right?”

Her arms cross. The trap closes. Shit.

“We have our theories. We just wanted to check it with you.”

Oh fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—

“I-I didn’t mean to!” Misty blurts out at that. “I didn’t mean for anything bad to happen to her. It was the ice and the height and I tried, I really tried.”

Their silence doesn’t help. Obviously, they will think even worse of her if she doesn’t explain.

“I really wanted to take her back, but the cliff is really steep, and the storm came in, and it was getting dark and—”

“Misty!” Natalie shakes her shoulders. “What the fuck are you talking about?!”

She gulps.

“I didn’t mean to kill her…”

“Jesus Christ.”

Besides that, the reaction is a stunned silence. None of them seem to be particularly surprised, though.

“That certainly explains something…” Van half-mumbles to Taissa. Tai’s brain, meanwhile, is racking her brain over this newfound information.

“Misty, can you show us… where?” Jackie asks carefully, with placating hands, as if Misty might otherwise bolt. She sure felt like it, but the lack of a strong reaction — certainly a lack of judgmental looks that she is used to receiving — has flipped the whole situation quite on its head. She nods meekly and keeps her head down as they head to the cliff, down the rocky path, and brush away the layer of snow to find the ultimate proof of her wrongs.

“That’s her, right?” Nat breaks the silence. “Like, really her?”

Oh.

So there was some truth to that thought.

Misty knew parts of it, since you can’t really come back from such a drop, but the confirmation had so far not been within reach without telling the others of what had happened. Had this been some sort of plan all along, to sabotage her from afar so that she never could tell what really happened with Crystal?

Looking at the clearly long-dead body in their midst, it’s hard to deny.

“It took her— the image of her,” Lottie mumbles, deep in thought. “Whoever we saw as Crystal was never alive to begin with.”

“You don’t know that.” Jackie glances around for support. “Like, whatever is going on, it’s still way too soon to pin it on something.” She gestures with a nervous little laugh. “Maybe we should just head back and thin on it. See what Crystal has to say?”

Misty watches the ball bounce towards Taissa, who catches it with a clenching jaw and a pinch at her nose. She wipes her eyes. “Yes. Let’s go back. It’s no use taking her, but we better cover Crystal if we don’t want any scavengers getting to her.”

Misty keeps quiet as helps to cover Crystal up for a second time. Maybe this will all blow over without any more trouble. It could. It had to.

Mari prides herself on running a tight system when the other varsities are away. Yeah, she knows she’s been the runt of that pack, but she’s still above these JV dorks.

Except for Akilah, they are totally on even ground.

Growing up with three brothers does that to you, so when Gen talks back at her, or Melissa slacks off, she’s sure to reprimand them with threats that make sense. Not the stupid adult stuff, but the “I’ll make you pair up with Misty for the next task we have” stuff. That wasn’t as easy as before when Crystal would volunteer to do something with Misty and—ugh—where even is that girl?

She’s sent her out to chop some wood to make sure that the fire can last throughout the night, but she still hasn’t come back. It’s her first time, but it shouldn’t take that long, right?

“You guys seen Crystal?” Mari asks Mel and Akilah, as they’re stitching up some clothes.

“Didn’t she go to the chopping block? I haven’t seen her come back inside.”

Melissa shrugs with a “meh” sound. Impossible.

“I’ll go see what’s up.”

The windows don’t show anything. When she asks Coach from his spot on the window bench, she disregards his answer entirely when he looks way too out of it to have noticed anything. That man is hanging by a thread, that much is obvious. Quietly, she wishes he could just walk out of here. It’s not like it’s getting any better for either of them, and he’s taking up a lot of space as it is.

Anyways, the outside is empty, it seems. Well…

Akilah, Melissa, and Coach in the living room. Gen is checking the pantry again for mice. Travis is moping in the back room. Shauna was at the kitchen table scribbling again.

The ax lies unceremoniously discarded in the snow. Two chopped blocks are beside it; way too little for the night. There are footsteps that lead to the edge of the wood, and as Mari follows them, they stop short at a pile, a small bundle of… sticks? They’re not from the trees here. For starters: way too light in color. The number of them appearing together is also a bit suspicious, but not as much as the bright-green leaf that is still stuck to one of the twigs. Mari crouches down to pick it off, twirling it between her fingertips in amazement.

It’s real. It’s here in her hands, in the midst of winter, and it is real. She pockets it quickly and turns back to the cabin after giving the twigs a last brief look-over. Maybe she should bring it up with the others when they come back.

“Mari!”

Before that can happen, however, Melissa bursts out the door. She nearly trips off the deck, barely makes it across the snow without slipping, and rushes to Mari.

“It’s—uh—it’s uh—”

“Words, Mel?”

Melissa blows a deep breath out, gasps her lungs full, and

“Shaunaishavingthebabyrightnow.”

“What the fuck?”

In all fairness, Mari’s first thought is a memory of her quinceañera and the cousin that had to steal all her thunder by her water breaking there and then, so she stays somewhat calm despite this news.

She stomps back to the cabin with long steps, opens the door to Shauna’s howling, and is both relieved at Akilah being at the ready, and incredibly frustrated that Misty had picked this moment to be away from the cabin.

“Okay, fuck. Places, everybody!”

The cogs move smoothly. They help Shauna to the bed, get towels, clean up what is needed, and then it is time for Akilah to recall whatever girl-scout wisdom might come in useful as Mari stares daggers at Coach Scott for not having anything to contribute to this beyond the obvious observations. He stands at the doorway, blinking but not really present.

“AAAAAAAAAAAHH!”

Shauna cuts in before Mari can snap at him, crushing Gen’s hand in the process.

“J-Jackie? Where’s Jackie?” she asks with panicked breaths and, well fuck, can nothing go right today?

“She’s on her way, Shauna. They’ll be here any minute.”

Mari pats Akilah’s shoulder in support as she goes to the door again. “I’ll send them right this way when I see them!”

The snow sucks all the sound out of the air. It’s eerily quiet here now, compared to inside. Mari keeps an ear out for any snap of a branch, any murmur of smalltalk.

There, to her left.

She jogs in the direction, slapping branches loaded with snow out of the way until she can see the shape of the group returning in the distance.

“Hey!” she calls out, cupping her mouth. They seem to stop to look at her waving arms.

“Baby! The fucking baby is coming!”

There’s a disturbance amongst them. The trees rustle, and it is Taissa and Jackie that reach her first, sprinting past as they drag a stumbling Misty along behind them. Mari follows suit, hearing the others close behind, judging from Nat’s many colorful curses filling the air.

“Shauna? Shauna!” Jackie actually slips on the floor of the cabin and scrambles back upright to get to Shauna’s side. “Oh, fuck. Are you okay, Shipman?” she whispers at the girl’s ear with wild eyes. Shauna just grips her hand tight as another wave wrecks through her. Akilah’s look at it all isn’t too positive. Misty blabbers something about keeping the place as sterile as possible, but other than that, she appears to be grasping at straws.

“Shauna, can you push for me? It’s really important to let me know if you can.”

She certainly tries, if the cracking shout is anything to go by. Othere than that, this is pure chaos in Mari’s eyes. Jackie isn’t looking to captain-y, which is somewhat understandable; Taissa keeps quiet; Lottie hovers here and there; and Akilah and Misty share their combined wisdom of sex-ed to get an idea of what to do next. They re-enact the typical movie stuff under Coach Ben’s equally confused gaze. Travis has come in and put himself resolutely at the back of this scene.

Mari hasn’t been that much of a positive person since they crashed, but this time she really hopes for something good. She hopes for a happy ending. She hopes that, when Shauna’s face falls to the side with glassy eyes after a final big push, this’ll end without any more death.

Chapter Text

I ’m in heaven
With my boyfriend, my laughing boyfriend
There’s no beginning and there is no end
Feels like I’m dreaming but I’m not sleeping

— from “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey (based on “Genius of Love” by the Tom Tom Club)

There ’s a fossil that’s trapped in a high cliff wall
(That’s my soul up there)
There’s a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall
(That’s my soul up there)
There’s a blue whale beached by a springtide’s ebb
(That’s my soul up there)
There’s a butterfly trapped in a spider’s web
(That’s my soul up there)

— from “King of Pain” by The Police

“Shauna?”

She turns her head without opening her eyes. The sounds slowly become clearer; bodies shifting around, voices speaking with amazement.

“Shauna.”

“Hrrmm…” She’s too comfortable. The first time in many days. Months, even. Five more minutes can’t do any harm.

“Shauna, he needs you here.”

That’s new. Shauna’s eyes are heavy. Opening them is a struggle, but not impossible. Taissa goes in and out of focus with each blink, until at last the image settles. She has that lazy smile on her face, the subtle sign that everything is okay.

“He made it, Shauna.”

The others are still around her, equally engrossed by what Tai holds out in her hands; a bundle of fur that makes soft sounds. She startles at seeing the small head. Roughly cleaned, but unmistakably his head. His face scrounges up when she moves the fur blanket aside to really look at him. He grasps with his tiny hands and holds onto the fingertip he catches onto. The bane of the past few months of her existence, and yet now, as he is here, Shauna feels so glad to have him.

“H-He’s really okay?” She turns to Misty at the end of the bed, who nods with clear glee.

“We have to keep an eye on him and make sure that he eats and grows well, but yes! Other than that, he’s in top shape.”

Mesmerized, Shauna strokes the small tuft of dark hair on his head. Who knows what color it will turn into later?

Later.

So much time to think about. She laughs despite herself, stuck in this moment where none of the hardship of their situation has any impact. The future exists with her in it, and this little guy, and—

“Where’s Jackie?”

She’s looked around the group twice. Jackie’s not here, and if she had been in the room, she would have been the first to congratulate her here, now, with way too much excitement than Shauna could probably handle.

The past and everything left aside.

Lottie rests a hand on her shoulder, on the other side from Taissa, and puts the other to support the baby’s head, stroking the crown of it with her thumb.

“Jackie will be here soon. She just has to take care of something first.”

“She’s not gone?”

Lottie shakes her head with a giggle. “Of course not.”

Okay. Okay.

“Ah—!” The noise he makes is so soft, so weak. His eyes are still screwed shut but his face pulls into a grimace, and before Shauna can shush him softly, he begins to cry with all that his little lungs can muster. Gently rocking him close to her seems to help. His loud cries turn to whimpers and Shauna can only look at him, this little thing, with amazement.

“Do you have a name for him yet?” Mari asks her eagerly. They all look at her with anticipation. In truth, Shauna hadn’t thought about it much. The thought had barely passed her mind in the previous months, let alone think of two options. At the same time, it doesn’t seem fair to just blurt one out now.

“Not yet, but we should wait for Jackie. She’d feel left out.”

Lottie nods, taking one of Shauna’s hands and giving it a brief squeeze before turning back to the others.

“We should let her rest a bit. This has been a busy day for all of us.”

At that, they disperse. Most of JV flit out of the room quickly; Lottie and Taissa linger in a corner, mumbling amongst themselves but at a distance and volume that Shauna can’t make out.

Never mind them.

His nose is a tiny button. A soft thing that she can trace her finger down, but his hands a quick to grab at it. Shauna chuckles.

“What a busy bee you are, huh?”

She feels sweaty, exhausted, and absolutely at her limit. But also the most alive that she could. Alive, and that wasn’t even a certain outcome before all this. She’s alive. He’s alive. Jackie should be here soon, and then they can think of whatever else needs to happen in this mess. The worst might just be behind them, or so Shauna dares to hope.

She holds him close — safely in her arms and tucked against her — and watches as he falls asleep despite his quick breaths.

Soon after, Shauna follows.

“Shauna?”

…

“Shauna!”

Her eyes shoot open. The moon shines brightly through the window. They must’ve moved her into Coach’s old room. With the little guy. Right? She feels for him, and relaxes at the soft sound he makes, wriggling in her arms.

“Shipman?”

“Jackie?” Shauna turns to see her sitting there on Lottie’s stool from earlier. “Fuck. The others said that you were away and I was worried for a moment. I shouldn’t have but—”

“Shhh.” Jackie brings a finger to her lips. “No need to wake the others about it.”

The corner of her mouth pulls up into half a smirk, but it’s uneasy.

“Can I… Can I see him?” She asks it almost pleadingly.

“Of course.” It’s the obvious answer. Everything that this boy is the result of, everything that he unknowingly stands for. Shauna is careful to keep him steady in her arms, but brings him around without waking him.

“Aw, Shauna… He’s amazing.” Jackie’s fingertips graze the small tuft of hair that’s already there. “Lil’ bug…”

“Bug?” Shauna snorts. “Please don’t name him bug.”

“Oh my god, Shipman, it’s hardly a nickname. Let me have some fun, please.” Once again, that bittersweet smile crawls onto her face.

“Remember…” Jackie begins, whispering as she strokes the baby’s cheek softly, “remember when in third grade, Mrs. Argento got that class hamster.” She looks at Shauna, expectantly.

Shauna remembers. A chicken-nugget with feet. He was fuzzy, but nobody was allowed to touch him until they could prove to be careful with him. Part of some class they had at the time.

“You called him cheese cracker,” she fills in, “and the entire class started doing it, too, despite his name being, like, Benjamin.”

Jackie stills for a second. “Exactly… Exactly.”

“So, yeah, not gonna let that happen here. If I seriously hear Mari or someone calling him—” Shauna doesn’t get the chance to say much more. Her voice is muffled by damp hair and the coarse fabric of Jackie’s varsity jacket. Little baby Bug remains undisturbed as Jackie has still carefully maneuvered herself around him to pull Shauna into a tight hug across her shoulders.

“It’s you. It really is you,” Jackie says as she hugs Shauna even tighter.

“I sure hope it’s me,” Shauna mutters, hoping to linger in this embrace as long as she can until the baby wriggles in her arms, making an annoyed sound.

“Spoiled already, huh?” Jackie loosens her arms to gaze at him again.

“Do you want to hold him?” Shauna asks on the sniff that she hears. Jackie looks a bit out of place. It’s understandable; all this is a lot to take in. Neither of them had expected a whole child to appear their first year into college.

Let alone in a cabin in the woods, lost to the world.

“Really? Shauna, I—”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind it.” Shauna holds him out towards her, and, very gently, Jackie takes him from her hands.

He’s still half asleep. His hands grasp for invisible things, and Jackie holds out a pinky for him to hold on to. Shauna settles back on the bed. Maybe the previous position was a bit uncomfortable to sleep in. Her neck feels strained.

“Have you thought of a name already?”

She hadn’t fully devoted some attention to it, but some flit by.

“Janus, maybe? Could be John or Johnny. Hector is also an idea.”

Jackie hums. “I like Hector. Was he the horse guy?”

Shauna laughs softly. “Not the horse guy, but a tamer.”

“If this one is anything like him, then Nat will have an excellent ally out there.”

“If he lives.”

“… Of course he will.”

The moon is still high in the sky; the house is eerily quiet. Everything is neatly in its place, as it should, and yet there is a lingering feeling, a warning sign, of something being off in this space.

“Shauna,” Jackie whispers again, but her tone is serious this time. “There’s something important you need to know.”

“Hmm?” Shauna turns her head, already growing heavy with sleep. But if Jackie says that something is important, it’s good to listen, even if the information itself isn’t really that big of a deal. She might feel forgotten, that’s just the thing.

Jackie blinks, her eyes watery. “This is going to sound weird, but I really need you to remember it.”

Shauna nods, annoyance sparking ever so slightly. “What is it?”

“When you wake up,” Jackie sighs, “You shouldn’t listen to me.”

Ah. Okay. Not exactly what she expected.

“Whatever I say to you,” Jackie continues, “don’t believe it. Don’t do things I ask of you without making sure it’s safe.”

“Yeah, okay…” This must be a dream, then. “I’ll try.”

“I need you to, Shauna, please.” Hector is tucked into her side again. She doesn’t see it as much as feel it. Strands of sweaty hair are tucked out of her face and put neatly behind her ears.

“I’m not me, Shauna. I’m not me. Please, please remember that.”

When the sun shines again, and Hector sniffles her awake, Jackie is gone.

Gone from the stool, out of the room. The door of her private space is open, and through the doorframe, Shauna can see her in a discussion with Lottie. Hands point and gesture widely to make a point that Lottie isn’t very receptive to. Or so it seems.

“Nothing that concerns us, Bug,” Shauna mumbles to herself and to him. The only one that needs to hear it.

But Jackie must sense her looking, because shortly after their eyes meet, and she drops the entire conversation with Lottie to pace across the living room towards her.

“Thank goodness you’re awake.” She smiles brightly and crouches down at Shauna’s side of the bed, admiring Hector as she comes close. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. I really am.” She laces a hand together, and the other traces Hector’s small and chubby face.

“As long as you weren’t doing blood rituals in the woods, it’s fine.”

Jackie snorts. “Wow. What ever would make you think of that, Shipman?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you found a new hobby?” Shauna shrugs.

“Sure. Like I have time for that.”

“Then what were you doing?” Shauna holds tighter onto the hand that’s in hers, and watches closely at Jackie as she comes up with an answer. She knows her well enough to notice when something is left unsaid.

“Not really anything,” Jackie says nonchalantly, keeping her attention on Hector. “I know it’s stupid, and you could say I was a bad friend because of it, but I got scared. I didn’t think I could handle watching if you… you know.”

She squeezes Shauna’s palm, smirking at her. “But don’t worry, I stayed near the cabin. No wandering around for me. I didn’t dare come back until someone told me to, just in case it’d gone wrong.”

“Was it that scary?” Shauna doesn’t remember much of it. She recalls fainting, but for how long is difficult to guess.

“It was. I know you’re tough, but it looked like a close call. But you’re here now.”

“I am. So are you.”

“So am I.”

A smile pulls at Shauna’s lips. “Then everything must be okay.”

“Phew, I really hope so, Shipman.”

She lets the comfortable silence settle between them. The only thing keeping it from going completely quiet are Hector’s breaths. The others keep it low in the other end of the cabin. The hearth must crackle with the fire, but for now all that exists is the three of them. Safe and warm.

“Has he eaten anything yet?” Jackie asks after some time.

“Uhm… I haven’t really tried it, to be honest.” Her face flushes with slight embarrassment. “He’s not really been asking for anything. Not that I noticed, at least.”

“He’s a baby.” Jackie quirks an eyebrow. “Asking isn’t really a thing.”

“Jesus Christ, you know what I mean.”

“I doooo.” Jackie rolls her eyes and gets back onto her feet. “I’ll ask if Misty has any ideas. Be back soon,” and puts a quick kiss on Shauna’s forehead. “Don’t go anywhere, okay?” she winks, and skips out the bedroom door.

“Ah.” He blinks up at her with eyes of a yet undetermined color.

“It sure has been a day, huh?”

They could darken or lighten over time, whichever way they pleased. He has no worries yet, and perhaps she envies him briefly for that. “But we have each other’s back, right?”

It makes little sense to ask him, and pretending that Hector gives her an answer is futile as his eyes drift shut again and his breaths grow even. If he really were hungry, she would have noticed it. She should. Jackie is right in asking Misty, but surely that girl would have interrupted and called for drastic measures if there were the slightest sign of him lacking proper care.

“They won’t touch a hair of you without me knowing it,” she promises him.

It’s night again. She has to stop waking up like this. They put a small crib in the room for Hector, but otherwise left them to themselves. The shifty glances don’t go unnoticed, but as long as nothing is clear, Shauna doesn’t dare to ask them if something is up.

“Hey.”

At least there’s Jackie. She opens the door and pokes her head through the gap, slips inside, and softly closes it behind her. Steam drifts up from the mug in her hands. Shauna hasn’t thought much of her own hunger; Hector’s was more of a concern, but he still seems to be doing fine, in whatever state he’s in.

“That for me?” Shauna asks as she sits up straighter in the bed. Most of the aches and cramps have subsided. She’s tired, sure, but that’s not the worst state to be in.

Jackie nods, but keeps the mug to herself. “Mari made some. Figured you might want to have something to eat.”

Shauna eyes the thick slices of meat. “They could’ve asked me to cut something off. I’m really fine to get out there again.”

“I guess they want to be careful. Gotta take it easy for once, Shipman.”

“Maybe.” She glances at Hector. “Did Misty say anything about him? If this is normal?”

But Jackie merely shrugs. “She doesn’t know everything. Besides, I doubt I could give him some stew, right?” she chuckles, but it goes unacknowledged. “I wouldn’t worry too much. I’m sure he’ll let it know if he’s craving anything. We should think about you first, for now.”

Her smile is rueful.

Her grip on the mug remains tight, with no sign of wanting to hand it over.

(You shouldn’t listen to me)

“Ah, well, thank you.” Shauna reaches out a hand and watches Jackie tense up ever so slightly.

“If you don’t want it, I get it,” she blurts out.

“Huh?”

“Like, uh, if you also don’t feel too hungry. I think that’s maybe pretty normal, and all.”

“Jackie, what?”

Jackie blinks at her. She keeps her mouth shut, but the mug also isn’t moving an inch.

“You’re not making any sense, Jax.”

“Okay, yeah, fine.” She puts the mug down on the floor and proceeds to push both hands through her hair in thought. “Do you want to go for a walk?” Jackie suddenly asks. It stupefies Shauna.

“A walk?”

“Yes.”

“Now? In this weather?”

“Yes, and I know what you’re thinking, but it would do you good.” Jackie points to Hector. “Him, too.”

Shauna eyes the mug on the floor and clenches her jaw. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain why the fuck I should.”

A huff, a sigh. “Fine.” Jackie stands up from the stool and walks to the door. “If you could come along, I’ll show,” she says as she lowers the handle. Her voice is nervous, and maybe that’s why Shauna gets out of bed to see what all this is about.

The backdoor out of the cabin is just around the corner. Jackie opens the bedroom door, and from there swings open the second one so Shauna doesn’t even have to step across the doorstep.

Not a speck of white in sight. In the darkness, the grass is still visible from all the way over here. The blades flow softly in a nightly breeze. The trees rustle with leafs. An owl hoots in the distance.

“It’s safe.” Jackie says to an unspoken question. “I can swaddle him up to keep him warm.” Her hand is warm on Shauna’s shoulder. “Please come along?” She’s afraid of something. Shauna doesn’t want to ignore the obvious signs that something is off here, but there was that little thing. If she keeps herself safe, then it should be okay.

“I’ll carry him,” she says.

For unknown reasons, they don’t make their hike known to the others. Jackie seems all too sure of this, and Shauna doesn’t ask. Hector woke up briefly but is once again fast asleep against her front, wrapped up in some sheets that Jackie procured from a closet. She seems to know exactly where to go in the dark of night; mostly walking in a straight line but taking a few turns.

It’s a good thing that she’s tugging Shauna along, who looks around in amazement at the lush greenery around them.

“I won’t let them harm you,” Jackie seems to say. “No matter what they might promise. It’s not right.”

“Like Crystal?”

Maybe she wasn’t supposed to hear anything. Jackie keeps quiet for what feels like minutes.

“Sorta. It’s weird. Complicated weird.”

They walk past a glade full of blooming flowers. More than they had seen even shortly after the crash.

“Even if I could explain everything to you, you probably wouldn’t want me to. Sometimes it’s better to stay oblivious.” She glances back, and Shauna weighs how much she should take this as a back-handed remark. How much this can still sting after so much time and so much change.

“You read it. You decided you wanted to know more.”

Jackie holds her gaze, but turns her face back forward without a reply.

“We’re almost there.”

She guides them to a tree; it’s roots massive and curling around an opening. The dark is even thicker here, but Jackie helps her into the cavern that lies hidden underneath. Shauna has no time to question it before they’re tugged along again. It presses in from around her: the many strange things, the growing exhaustion.

“Jax, I don’t know if I can—”

“I’ll bring you back home, okay? I don’t care how, but I will do it.”

They might enter the depths of the earth with how long they’re walking. Shauna feels like her legs carry her without her thinking. She might fall asleep and still go on.

“Please trust me. I need you to trust me, Shauna.”

She sags forward in the darkness, but Jackie must be there to catch her and keep her upright. The baby is there, safe. A draft in the distance brings a shock of cold to her face, but she’s lifted up, carried onwards and—

“Shauna?”

Taissa’s tear-stained face comes more into focus with each passing second. Her clammy hands are held tight by two others: Lottie’s on her right, and Jackie’s on her left, the latter with her head down as if in prayer.

“I thought I was…” Her heart beats in her chest from all the adrenaline that’s slowly leaving her system again. The others — Van, Natalie, Misty, Travis, and the JV girls — look to her with great relief.

Misty has a bundle in her arms, cradling it close and inching closer between the others.

“We really thought you were…” She lets it hang in the air. Nobody fills her in, but Shauna can sense what it implies. “I don’t know if he could’ve made it without you,” Misty continues as she hands the fur over, and Shauna can see his oh so tiny face. Familiar, yet still so new. He’s quiet but moves underneath the thick layers of warmth that they’ve wrapped them in.

“Oh…” Tears still well up. “But he’s okay, right? He was before, I, uh, I…” It must’ve been a dream. A strange, wonderful, terrible dream.

“He’s okay, Shauna,” Jackie tells her as if a promise. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Are you?” Taissa follows up. “You cut it real close, Shauna. If you think anything is wrong…” She has that same look as that time back then, when Taissa also didn’t question the reasons Shauna could have, but merely wanted to make sure it happened with as much care as possible. So she nods.

“Yeah, I think I’m good.” She softly strokes Hector’s tiny form, and angles him so Taissa and Jackie can see. “Isn’t he beautiful?”

The déjà vu continues on as they give her a clean-up with a wet towel and a change of clothes. Coach relinquishes the bedroom to her, and so Shauna finds herself in Jackie’s company once again. This time, Hector actually did give some sign of being hungry, and she awkwardly tried to help him the best she could.

“Do you think he’ll make it through winter?” She asks Jackie, who’s making the crib as comfortable as it can be out here.

“I don’t think it will last for much longer, but he seems strong. If he’s anything as stubborn as you, then I’m sure he will.”

Shauna hums. He’s small, but he seems to be doing relatively well, despite the situation that they’re in.

“Do you remember,” she continues, “something from earlier?”

Jackie chuckles. “You have to be more specific than that.”

“You said something about…” Shauna has to think about the wording, “You not feeling like yourself or something? Hope you’re not getting sick.”

Jackie gives her a long look, but smiles. “I’m feeling peachy, Shipman. You must’ve had a really bad dream there.” She sits down next to her on the bed, knocking her head into Shauna’s shoulder. “You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Snow fills the corners of the windows again. Slight chills drift through the room now and then.

“Do you want to hold him?” Shauna moves the bundle over to Jackie to take. Hector is barely awake, but he seems to like the change of view. Jackie is careful in tucking him in her arms. This time, Shauna leans her head on her shoulder to look at him.

“He’s cute,” Jackie says with a grin. “Little bunny that he is.”

“Okay now, I thought bug was already enough of a silly name?”

“Bug?” Jackie asks, looking disgusted but amused. “Why would I ever call him a bug?”

She turns back to Hector as he sneezes. “He’s too cute for that. Bunny fits him much better.”

Oh.

Shauna frowns as she reviews her memory. She was sure that it was bug, before, earlier. Out there.

“Besides, as long as you haven’t picked a name for him, I’m free to call him whatever I want.” Jackie turns to her with a smug grin. But there’s something there; a sliver of doubt in her features.

Oh.

Oh.

Chapter Text

There goes the hunting party

With hooves and trumpets

With hounds and spears

They comb the land

Hide

Or run along if instinct drives

Whether calm spring

Warm summer

In the showers of autumn or

The frosty nights of winter

Heed their approach as the thunder rolls

And lightning crashes

To refer to her as a ‘thing’ feels too harsh. Or perhaps Shauna has started associating her with the real Jackie too much. Constant reminders need to keep her focused when Jackie — for that is the name she still sticks to for now, for a lack of alternative — holds Hector and looks at him like he’s the only one that matters in the world, or when she helps Shauna up onto her weak legs, or hands her a bowl of stew, or makes sure she all bundled up when heading outside.

Shauna found the excuse to take long walks on her own, without… Jackie. Misty can mutter about postpartum depression for all that she wants. The truth is that Shauna cares too much about Hector to not try to think of a plan of how to fix this. How to figure this out.  Two glaring obstacles stand in her way of taking this head-on.

Firstly, the others don’t know. Or they don’t share it with her for fear of a reaction, which is fair, she could take the first days after Hector was here to process all of it, and that’s had its benefit when it comes to Jackie, who seems oblivious to the knowledge Shauna has now. But none of the others have pulled her aside to ask questions about Jackie behaving weirdly, or seeming out of place, or something else.

Maybe the hard thing is that Jackie seems to be a much better part of the group than earlier in the year. It could be very possible that they put any oddities aside if it means having someone out here that contributes to their survival.

There’s that, and then there’s an even more uncomfortable possibility to consider. If this Jackie is here, then where is her Jackie? When they found out about Crystal— when they found Crystal, it seemed that the only option is that Jackie (her Jackie) is… dead. The only glimmer of hope that Shauna has is that dream, if that’s what it really was. Maybe she’s still out there somewhere, alive, or maybe Shauna stepped briefly over a threshold into something that she wasn’t meant to cross, suspended between life and death, outside of time.

It’s why Shauna takes long walks in privacy to process, assess, compare, and remember.

Remember Jackie on her couch with a stack of pancakes and Saturday-morning cartoons; remember Jackie running to meet her on the first day of high school; remember Jackie suddenly having them pinky-promise each other to be best friends forever at a sleepover.

Shauna can’t let those memories be corrupted by whoever this Jackie pretends to be. Not even when she looks up with that same warm smile when Shauna returns from her trek through the woods.

She’ll figure something out.

“Can I ask you a weird question?” Shauna says from her corner where she’s sitting with Hector in her lap as he sleeps.

“Sure,” Taissa answers as she pulls the last blanket off the clothesline in the attic. “What’s up?”

“If, uh, if Van were… different, do you think you could tell it wasn’t really her?”

Loaded question. Taissa wants to say that she’s never really thought about it, and yet, after her failed expedition south and during Van’s recovery, there had been moments where she had thought Van too hurt to return to that quip-ready dork she’d fallen in love with.

“I think we’ve all kind of become different people out here, Shauna.” Is what she settles on. “With Crystal it was… odd. But it definitely stood out. They’re not that clever, so I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about as long as you don’t get caught up in anything yourself.”

Shauna’s moping about it. Without wanting to poke at whatever is bothering her, because frankly Tai isn’t in the mood for dealing with that right now with both Van and Jackie out and about and unable to provide backup, Taissa walks over and sits down next to Shauna, stroking softly over Hector’s little head.

“How is he doing?” she asks, moving this conversation to a different topic.

Shauna softens. “I guess as well as he could out here. He sleeps alright, which is a relief.” She smiles when he curls closer to her in his sleep. “I try not to get too attached. Just in case he…”

“I get it,” Taissa says at the pause. “As fucked up as it sounds, we have think of ourselves out here. Keep our heads on straight.” She grumbles. “And not fall for whatever bullshit explanations Lottie can cook up.”

“Tai.” Shauna looks at her with those sad eyes of hers, and for the first time, it’s with the worry targeted at her. “But what happened with Crystal, with… Don’t you think there’s something going on that’s a bit weird.”

“Maybe,” Tai shrugs. “I just don’t think that we should cling to the first theory that anyone puts out there. Van loves a good ghost story, and maybe that makes her more inclined to buy into some of this, but if we lose focus on what’s really important, it’ll just make it more likely for people to die out here. Even with whatever the fuck is on our tail, we have to think about shelter, about food, and about getting through the winter. That should be a priority.”

Shauna shifts Hector in her lap. “I guess you’re right…”

“It’s just common sense, Shauna. If we keep things steady like this, we have a good chance.” Taissa bumps their shoulders together. “So please, don’t do something stupid.”

Shauna hums.

He takes well to the crib they scrambled together. Even in a groggy state of half sleep, he grabs onto Jackie’s pinky with the same strength as the first days. It’s a good sign, not seeing that waver, and she hopes that he’ll make it to sunny days. She really, really hopes he does.

“What are you doing?” Slightly accusatory, it sounds from the door. Shauna stands in the doorway with something close to a glare plastered on his face. Jackie’s seen it more and more often ever since Hector came into the world, but from whatever Misty explained, she’s learned not to take it too personally.

“Nothing much. I thought he might like some company.”

“He’s asleep,” Shauna notes as she looks into the crib. “Doubt he notices it.”

“Okaay, but don’t babies, like, benefit from it, still? It doesn’t hurt him.”

“…Sure.” Shauna drags her feet over to the bed and takes her snow-covered boots off. An extra pair of socks makes up for that layer against the cold. It’s done routinely, just like every other evening when she comes back from the shed and cutting off strips for Mari’s stew. Dinner is not for a few more minutes, or whatever passes for it, so Jackie thinks she can use the time to finally pry at whatever is up.

“Did I do something?”

“We’re all doing something, Jackie.”

“Don’t do that.” Shauna doesn’t even offer her a side-eye, merely staring off into the knots of wood in the walls. “Something wrong, I mean. You keep going around me and being weird. I just want to know if it’s me, or if I can help, or…” Jackie shrugs, “anything to stop you from being all like this.”

Shauna bites her lip.

“Is it the baby?”

“It’s not the baby.” She waits for Shauna to continue, but she doesn’t. Her knuckles are white over the bunched up sheets in her grip. Then, suddenly, the tension releases. “I’m gonna go out. Take a walk before dinner,” and without sparing her as much of a glance, Shauna stands up and walks out the door once more.

“Nothing you’d know anything about, huh, Bunny?” Jackie turns back to the still-sleeping Hector. He brabbles something back through his dreams, undoubtedly a more pleasant place to be. Jackie watches him fuzz when the floorboards at the door creak again. Hopeful, she turns around to maybe see Shauna coming back with that embarrassed and apologetic air around her, but it is only Taissa standing sheepishly on the threshold.

“Sorry,” Tai says, “I know you were expecting someone else.” She steps deeper into the room, taking Shauna’s spot on the bed but turning herself towards Jackie. “She, uh, asked me to keep you company, or something of the sorts.”

Jackie frowns in confusion. “How so?” It’s rethorical. She knows the stretch of it, just wants to make sure of it. Taissa knows it too, probably, with the flash of guilt crossing her features.

“Just because.”

Shauna doesn’t trust her anymore.

“Oh. Okay.”

Here’s a dilemma: If something you loved deeply was potentially lost, would an identical copy suffice?

Shauna thinks back to an AP Something class as she walks around the cabin through the cold. If she likes to fool herself, she might even think that the air is a bit warmer today.

Anyways, her mind is occupied with the image of Bryan-from-something-AP as he led a discussion on the Replicants in Blade Runner having a soul or not despite being robots. It  never got to the point where the Replicants could be stand-ins for real people that had their consciousness transferred, or whatever. The point that Bryan was vouching for was that, soul or not, they had their own inner worlds, and that was to be respected.

Could Shauna respect a murderer?

Something she had to remind herself of was still being contested. They never found Jackie’s (Her Jackie’s) body, but it might very well be the case that she was hidden too well as a precaution. Rich inner worlds could still hold malicious thoughts.

Another beloved AP English discussion of times past: Was Thomas Ripley really wrong for living out his wants, even if it took the identity of another?

The novel challenged their sympathies as a reader, was the common consensus in class discussion. Shauna had not really talked at length about how she’d found the perspective to be intriguing, to be so wholly invested in someone else outside of romantic relations and despite resentment.

In hindsight, an ironic observation. But she understands Marge’s point of view better now. Thomas Ripley is someone who doesn’t take the feelings of others into account, only striving for personal gain. Ergo, with some liberties, she should not feel too much sympathy for whoever this Jackie claims to be. Her clever facade has fallen down. The one question that still needs an answer, or two, is:

Is her Jackie still alive, and if so, where is she?

It’s that what prickles her when she turns back to the cabin, weaving her way along familiar paths between dead shrubs until the building comes back into view again. Her stomach grumbles with hunger and her hands clench and release from her aching knuckles. They want something, and she’d love nothing more than give them what they want, but this is not the place, not right now, not in the sanctity of dinner.

Dinner which is spent mostly in silence, save for the scraping of cutlery on ceramic, stone, or wood. Shauna didn’t sit next to her for fear of lashing out too fast, too soon. All things have their time to shine. Patience is valued in all matters, and certainly when she can see Jackie chatting away with Mari on the other side of the table between them. Similar to the lake, but she wouldn’t know that.

It still makes her bristle all the same with jealousy.

(misplaced. It’s not her it’s not her)

She lingers when they clear the table, when Jackie gets along fine with all of them, and they smile and joke right back and along with her, and here the creeping sense of doubt comes up because what if Shauna is wrong and there’s nothing going on?

What if Jackie is really gone, and she’s throwing away the only thing that even somewhat looks and acts like her?

Still, her body moves on its own, and before Shauna can crawl back, she stands in Jackie’s path in the middle of the cabin with shaky breaths.

“Shipman?” Jackie asks with a tilt of her head. “You good?”

“Who are you?” Her hands tremble already, in part from nervousness, in part from a restlessness that becomes increasingly harder to hold back. She didn’t speak it too loudly, but loud enough for only Jackie to turn to her with an eyebrow raised in question.

“Shauna,” she says in a tone that comes close to that slightly condescending canter of pre-party dress-up discussions. It raises the doubt because she can’t know it’s like that. She was never there to remember it. “What do you mean?” She smiles, oh so innocently.

“I’m your best friend, remember?”

It should be a teasing remark followed by a slight jostle of the shoulder. Silly Shipman, over-thinking it like always. Instead, Jackie doesn’t get the chance to follow it up with a jab of affection.

Shauna’s knuckles spark when they hit their mark. Where exactly that is, she doesn’t even know. The only certainty is in the strength she put behind it, as Jackie’s head snaps to the side and has her stumbling and barely keeping herself upright from both the force and the surprise. It blazes across the skin of Shauna’s right hand and through the cabin’s living room. Now the others are alert to what is going on, looking at them with slight confusion that is not yet the panic that Shauna is expecting to form as soon as they catch on. She pays them little mind, fists shaking as she turns back to Jackie, hunched and cradling her cheek with one hand.

Two things put the pieces of Shauna’s theory in place.

Firstly, there’s widened eyes that look up at her through the hay-colored locks that are blown over her face. It’s a specific look, once again one that Shauna would recognize because she knows. She knows the look on Jackie’s face when Mrs. Taylor caught them in the living room with a glass of wine of the ‘expensive’ wine. It’s a certain combination that signals ‘I’m not getting away with this’.

The second thing, perhaps more glaringly obvious than the first, is a matter of simple observation that anyone without Shauna’s catalog of all Jackie’s habits could still point out. Despite the dark shadows from the fire in the hearth, that could darken hazel to a duller, deeper brown, there is no possibility that the irises that have so often looked at Shauna should ever be as brightly, starkly blue as a clear winter sky. Blueberry yoghurt. Elderberry rings along the edge and dotting the middle.

“S-Shauna?” Jackie asks with fear in her voice.

But, it’s not her.

It’s not her, and that is the mantra that Shauna clings to as her arm whips through the air again, filled with rage that now runs freely through her veins.

“Shauna!” Taissa shouts when Jackie is knocked to the floor. She scrambles to get up to her feet again and away from Shauna, who strides over with determination.

(it’s not her)

“Shauna, what the fuck!”

If they stop her now, she’ll never know.

(it’s not her but where is she?)

“Did you kill her?” Shauna snarls and punctuates it with a kick to the shins.

(dirty move, Shipman)

Hands grasp at her shoulders to hold her back, but she shakes, slaps, hits, and bites them off. Someone shrieks in pain, but she can’t stop to see who. She straddles her to get a good grip on her collar, pulling her face close to be able to see any giveaway of something. Her eyes flit from a split lip to the blood that trickles over it, coming from her nose with every freckle in the right place. Her terrified eyes are hazel again, but Shauna isn’t like Lottie. She’s not like Lottie. She’s not seeing things that aren’t real.

(it’s not her)

“What did you do to her?!”

The others keep back, or wait for the answer to what must be for them a strange question.

“N-Nothing!” Jackie sputters. “I didn’t— Shauna, what are you talking about?”

Shauna’s knuckles sting before she registers it. A sharp crack sounds through the cabin, like wood cleaved in half. Jackie’s breath is ragged and uneven, muted by her cheek against the wooden floor. With a trembling arm she reaches up to her face, then further, as if in the air above her head, but corrects it on time as if she mistook the distance.

But Shauna knows.

Shauna saw it skitter over the floor, like a small rock, into the corner of the room and hidden by the shadows there. A ragged edge and a rounded tip. A piece of broken-off horn.

“Shauna, stop.”

Taissa has stepped forward from the group. They’re in a semi-circle behind her, some, like Nat, more at her side. All of them are hesitant. All of them are afraid, and Taissa, as well as she may hide it, is no different.

“Shauna…”

She turns back.

There’s blood on the floor, seeping into the wood. A bruise is forming on her cheek, billowing upwards in a dark purple shade and coloring the white of the eye a brilliant red. The sheet of ice in her iris, there once again, stands out all the more because of it.

“I can explain,” she barely manages to whisper, and whatever she wants to say after is cut off by another punch.

Someone — by the sound of it Akilah — shrieks in surprise.

“Shauna!” Natalie yells, as if scolding a bad dog.

But they don’t intervene.

The wood is brutal against her aching fists when she misses, and the times she hits aren’t that better for her knuckles, either. The skin is split, blood mixes with blood, the stings are there from constant irritation and the salt from sweat and tears. She tires quicker than she expected, hunched and panting as her arms are growing heavy.

Jackie — or whoever this is —  merely wheezes at this point, but she’s still there. There’s a surprising amount of strength there when she grips Shauna’s hair and puts her lips to her ear.

“If you— kill me—,” she breathes in heavy bursts, “you definitely— won’t see her— again.”

Her arm is caught mid-air before it can hit again.

“Shauna,” Lottie says softly as she crouches at her side with a vice grip on her wrist, “Stop it.”

Shauna blinks at her. Jackie wheezes with heavy breaths.

“Listen to what she says. It won’t do anyone good if she dies here.”

“But-But what about Jackie?”

Lottie brings her arm down and locks eyes with someone over Shauna’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out.”

Nat is in the corner of the cabin picking something from the floor and stuffing it in her pocket. She shoots a wary glance her way.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Shauna,” Lottie continues. She almost has Shauna off Jackie’s half-broken form on the floor, when an equally blood-speckled hand catches Shauna’s sleeve. It’s a rich red, not some otherworldly Olympian gold or alien black. It flows from her nose and stains her eyes. It will dry under her nails and form rough patches on her skin and cover the bruises.

“N-None of it was a lie,” Jackie says as her hand clings tighter. “I did—  I do care about you, S-Shauna.” There’s vulnerability in the depths of her eyes. “I do love—”

It’s the final hit that does away with it. Shauna doesn’t even notice the move forward until she is left panting here, with her knuckles bloody again and an unconscious Jackie beneath her. Arms twist around her waist and hoist her up like it’s nothing. She barely has the energy left to protest as the adrenaline quickly simmers out.

They all look to her with shock while Shauna feels like a limp doll, her heels dragging over the floor and out the door where Lottie carefully sets her down on the deck. She digs through the snow and pushes a bunch of the cold stuff to Shauna’s hands. She hisses.

“It’s for your own good,” Lottie mumbles, ignoring the mayhem that’s unfolding inside the cabin.

“We can’t talk about this aloud, Shauna. We can’t let more of the others know than is necesarry, okay? Are you listening?”

Numbly, she nods.

“Good. I think.” Lottie sighs. “That was fucked up, Shauna. But she’ll pull through.”

Shauna tries not to feel the sting at hearing that.

“We’ll just have to think of what to do next as she recovers. Really think about how we’d want to go about this.”

Shauna keeps nodding as Lottie’s further words are tuned out by the static that overcomes it.

She really did that.

She really did that, and Jackie is alive.

Jackie is alive.

Jackie is alive.

After a short discussion, they decide that it’s best to keep her in the attic. The reason to the others is that this will be most out of the way of Shauna, and won’t scare the baby — if he is already old enough to remember such scenes, Hector slept all through the events of the evening. They carry her limp body up the ladder and lay her down on the floor, checking the marks on the floor and positioning accordingly. Van pulls out pieces of rope that are staches up here behind the boxes, and with others of this inner circle that has grown together, they tie ankles and wrists together. Lottie brings up a pillow for some small comfort.

Shauna doesn’t go up to see them at their work. She claims the bedroom while coach still sits baffled in the rocking chair in the living room. Hector is close. Hector is safe. She has him guarded between her body and her arms so that no other imposter might try to steal him.

Or worse.

It’s why she startles when Nat knocks softly on the door and steps inside.

“Hey. Sorry.” She paces on her feet, aware of the uncomfortable atmosphere in the air. Above them, the muffled voices in discussion are too low to pick up words from.

“I didn’t want to bother you. It’s been fucked up and… well… I don’t really know what to say about it. Not that I want to.” Nat tucks the hair out of her face and feels around in her pockets as she clears her throat.

“But I wanted to show you this, maybe even let you have it, if you want it. It felt risky to leave it out there for Mari, or Coach, or Travis, or JV to find.”

Nat holds it out towards her in the palm of her hand. A rough, triangular rock. One corner rounded off at the tip; the other two connected by a jagged line, where it was crudely snapped off. Shauna takes it carefully between her fingers. It’s light, and turning it over in the light of the lantern, she can discern the small ridges and the shadows they cast.

“Enjoy your trophy.” Natalie smiles crudely, but Shauna keeps her own thoughts to herself. Here it is, between her fingertips, the tangible proof. How big would they be? How high up would they twist from her head? What other signs are there that this is indeed not her Jackie?

Nat is still in the room and catches her attention when, prompted by the soft thuds and slides and other sounds above them asks, with her head tilted upwards,

“So who is that, really?”

Shauna follows her look to the nothing on the ceiling, lit up by the lantern and the flickering shadow it casts of her arm with the horn held out.

“I have no idea.”

She can feel Hector wriggle against her chest as he tosses awake from his deep sleep. His drowsy eyes find her, seem to eye the horn, and for the first time today, he begins to cry.

But not before
a squint through the blinds.

A shufti, a gawp
just to see what it ’s like.

Kick down the door
and step inside.

House where the dark broods
House where the dark blooms
House where the dark breeds
House where the dark breathes

— from “Hansel and Gretel, A Nightmare in Eight Scenes” by Simon Armitage

END OF ACT 2

Chapter Text

I am

yet what I am none cares or knows;

My friends forsake me like a memory lost:

I am the self-consumer of my woes

They rise and vanish in oblivious host,

Like shadows in love’s frenzied stifled throes

And yet I am, and live

like vapours tossed

— from “I Am!” by John Clare

You wake up for the first time in what feels like a long while.

Sleep had never been a necessity, and you rather avoided it in the state you were in; physically away from that place, yet put back into it when unconsciousness got its grasp on you. You don’t like sharing private spaces, and this was a first, and certainly not an easy adjustment you had to make for the few times that your energy faltered.

The first time she’d been too afraid to do anything. You could sympathize with that. Nobody likes waking up in a strange place, away from the comfort of familiarity and friends.

Nobody likes seeing someone else wearing their face.

The second time she was upset; asking a million questions that you could not even try to answer because you were sure that she wasn’t in the mood to understand them. Besides, it wouldn’t change anything for her situation.

The third time, she skipped the talking and went straight to tackling you to the ground, trying to hit you where she could. Frustration tired her out quickly, even in this place beyond sleep.

As you blink into consciousness, and feel all the bruises and fractures worm into your body again, you doubt that she could’ve put up a better fight. Just now, when you were there, she barely showed you pity.

This too, you can understand.

You wake to the sound of your own ragged breath and a damp cloth to your face. In an attempt to turn your head and hopefully get a better focus on whoever is there, the cloth stands its ground and another hand rests on your shoulder to stop you from moving.

“Shhh…” A voice — Lottie’s, you think — soothes. “Keep still. You need the rest.”

You protest with a drawn-out and not at all convincing groan. Turning your head the other way, you feel them there again: extensions that you had to get used to being gone from your head, softly scraping the wood as you turn your whole body away from Lottie.

That does it then. You’re never going home again.

Would you miss it? The everlasting summer, the trees all full of green, and blots of color dotting the fields?

Maybe. But they never could offer what you experienced out here, not ever in your many years. The fear, the thrill, the doubt, the love. All new and all exciting, and you would never have known them if you hadn’t come here.

The stab of pain that shoots through the flesh at your ribs is new as well, and despite the hurt you cherish it.

You’re still alive, after all.

“We didn’t know how much time you need to recover,” Lottie says behind your back. “So some of us wanted to take security measures.”

You tug experimentally at the knots around your wrists, but they really are tight. Not child’s play. They’re serious about this.

You’re never going home again.

The same at your ankles, and these too have become different, or returned to their old ways. The shape of your legs isn’t fit for her pants, but they didn’t remove them. The rope here, too, holds tight, as much as you might kick on the floor with your hooves in frustration and a little bit of despair.

You’re never-ever-ever going home again.

Despite your position on the floor, you can still make out the carved marks into the wood. This time you’re on the other side of that wicked circle he’d put up. No escaping, not unless they let you. If Shauna could beat you within an inch of your always assumed infinite life, then you can never know for sure if they would be so kind to let you walk away.

Regardless, you are never going home.

They’d hunt you down and tear you to pieces, tell your story as an example to disloyal newlings. You’d be better off as an outcast, a pariah, roaming the endless wilderness on this side of paradise.

You can hear him, Hector, faintly through the floor. He’s crying again and you feel useless up here. If you were vindictive, you might have blamed him for all this. He’s the reason you were sent out here in the first place; a long but easy enough task that you fumbled in ways unparalleled. You started caring too much about him… and about her. It’s stupid to have done so. Objectively speaking, you took the biggest risk and paid for it fully. Even better: it’s not like she even returns anything that you feel for her. She liked an idea of you; the part that you decided to play too well. Too long, too invested. You’re not even sure where the real you ends and she begins with all of her habits and mannerisms embedding into your own person.

Lottie’s hand is there on your shoulder to bring you back into the dark attic room again.

“Who are you?” she asks, and you really don’t enjoy the timing of this question.

“Does it matter?”

“Not to me, no. But I think Shauna would like to know a thing or two.”

It’s not a threat, but it does sure sound like one to your ears. If you don’t answer Shauna, then… But there’s only so much that you can tell them for their own safety. Some things a better kept secret.

You turn back around, facing her fully even if your vision is obscured on one end by a bruise.

“You could call me Sid.”

A story about Sid

Sítheach was born like any other being coming into existence. If one removed the practicalities of anatomy and certain cells coming into contact with others, Sid’s birth was not remarkably different from that of the baby born in the wilderness. They simply were; one moment they were not, and the other they could feel the sun on their skin and the grass under their hands. Life existed, and it was all quite simple.

The notion of family was unfamiliar to their folk, but not exactly because of the absence of it. They knew of others like them and even of those beings that walked the earth alongside them. Secrecy was sworn at some point when people came with tongues unfamiliar to theirs. The reason wasn’t merely that they were strangers, for they had talked with strangers before. No, these were other from their strangers, not in the least in that they brought metal and instruments of harm. Their King shut the door, and life was simple again.

Unless you would grow restless and go to that other realm. As stag, as wolf, as bird in the high sky. And Sid leaped with great risk and saw others struck by these tools of men and be without life. Life, which had been so simple, seemed all the more precious now. And some went to these others to exact revenge, but lost themselves in the rush of blood and teeth. So Sid stayed behind and kept life simple.

Then the first strangers, those that they spoke with, those that they traded with, see their siblings in the wild as a threat, and take appropriate measures. Their King says they are not to worry. If man wants to hide behind their carvings, then so be it. They didn’t need them. So life remained simple, and the years pass, and the strangers and the others move away but leave their carvings on the trees, and the woods they called home are suddenly no longer free to wander. Sid knows that this is the simple way of life, but even with all of them at home, they can’t help but feel lonely.

But then he comes, the Hunter.

Which is a story for another time. Ungrateful Hunter. Unpleasant Hunter.

And so their King says to Sid:

“He has become desperate. He may make mistakes. Will you prove yourself to us?”

And Sid does. And comes bearing a kind face and plays a terrible trick.

And life is simple again.

Years later, when the cabin is as green as the moss of their realm, a great thing falls from the sky. More strangers in their wood, younger, and one touched by that other realm beyond theirs, and another to whom they can whisper and be heard. Other hunters walk the wood, though less experienced than he who came before them. Their King has a plan, they confide, and lets them kill their form again, so their being is free and spread out amongst these strangers and their King returns to them to point at one of them and says:

“That one will hold me, part of me. But when the time comes, it needs to be returned to me, or I will lose this chance at having my body once more.”

So they wait, patiently, and watch from canopy and underbrush, and see the strangers poke through the veil, and hear the Hunter speak with them, yet they do not understand his words. Later, when the boy runs into the woods, they see their chance, but wait for the wind of winter to settle over their leaves.

There this moment is,

In the quiet of night

Without witness, they say

“Go! You are the best of us,

You tricked man before,

You are up to this task!”

So Sid steps from the trees and takes her into their arms and as carries her away into the woods and beyond the border; once again knows what it is like to walk with softer feet, without horns, without tail, without fangs; and as they lay her down upon the moss among the poppies and feel a new voice settle in their throat, they try to put every detail to memory so that they may not betray themself. Others bring copies of her clothes. They leave the necklace when it burns them. They take the small stick and flick it to bring forth fire, and walk back out into the cold, across the porch, and into the cabin.

The baby cries downstairs. She’d handed him over to Taissa so that at least someone she could trust was handling him. Shauna doesn’t know anymore. This can’t all be happening, but it is. She— that thing upstairs had tricked her. Badly. Shauna had gotten some answers, but still too many questions that were left unresolved. They whisper when she ascend the ladder, and yes, what would this even look like to them? She beat up what they all assumed was her best friend, their captain, the nicest person you could ever meet in Wiskayok.

But Shauna knows the truth now.

Her limbs are still sore. Her knuckles sting when she grips the edge of the attic to get up.  Lottie looks up from further onto the floor. A wet piece of cloth is in her hands, raised mid-air as she watches Shauna come in. The figure lying on the floor at her knees groans and tries to roll over despite their wrist and ankles being tied up.

Or, well, ‘ankles’ is an estimate. Lottie might have loosened them, but the rope used to be wrapped tightly around the fur-tufted limbs. The hooves scrape the wooden planks, as do the tips of the horns that sprout from a head full of curls. It’s still close to Jackie’s color, but a stark white is creeping in from the roots. They must’ve had the right idea with these symbols.

“Shauna?” it asks weakly, still trying to turn over, but Lottie keeps a hand on its shoulder. A kindness it doesn’t deserve.

“Don’t you dare use her voice,” Shauna snaps. It flinches at that, earning Shauna a look from Lottie.

“Shauna, she doesn’t—”

“Don’t you get it, Lott? It’s fucking mocking us all.”

“Shauna. I promise that’s not the case.”

Shauna sneers at her. “And how would you know? Did you get some grand vision about it?”

Lottie takes a calm breath in through her nose, out through her mouth. Her hand is still on the shoulder. “I asked and listened.” As simple as that. Lottie motions beside her. Her face is even, but the sentiment in it is evident. ‘At least try it,’ she seems to say. As Shauna steps around the… creature, Lottie wets the cloth again in the bowl of water, and dabs it as a spot that needs cleaning. It flinches when Lottie touches a bruised part of skin and hisses just like Jackie when she’d patch a scraped knee after practice. When Shauna has circled around enough to see its face, pale blue eyes — not at all like Jackie’s — flit up, blotted with red but still there, present and piercing and sorry. An actual honest-to-god tail flicks out of the way when Shauna crouches down to sit beside Lottie. It blinks a couple of times, but looks away before Shauna can make some snide remark about it.

It’s uncanny, how similar it still looks to Jackie despite the now obvious differences. They grow greater by the day, the latest being its hair curling more like Misty’s, and turning just as blonde or even paler. But its face is still the same: from the small nose to the curve of her mouth. Time would tell if its true face bared any natural resemblance. But that depended on how long they would keep it here.

“Can you tell her what you told me?” Lottie asks it. It seems to try its hardest to swallow, but doesn’t come forward with many words.

“I never intended for it to be like this.” It sighs under Lottie’s next touch, and Shauna can feel all those questions bubbling up, streaming out of her mouth without asking if it would even be able to answer them.

“Who are you really?” is the first of them. “What happened with Jackie? Why her, of everyone here?” She has to keep her voice low, as to avoid anyone else coming up the ladder to check on them.

“I’m from outside; from the woods and the wilderness.” It tries to smile, but something must hurt so much that it’s cut short in a wince. “My name is too complicated, but you can call me Sid.”

“Sid... That the name of another one of your victims?”

“No. I don’t make victims.”

“Liar. Where is she then?”

It— Sid sighs again, leaving the silence open. Lottie wrings the cloth out again so that for the moment, the water trickling into the bowl is the only sound to be heard.

“Sid said she could show us once she’s good enough to walk on her own again.”

Evidently, that won’t be anytime soon. Bruises and swells cover any piece of exposed skin.

“How can you be so sure? It wouldn’t be the first time— she’s… lied to us. To me.”

Sid barks out a short and broken laugh at that.

“I never lied. There was always a bit of truth in all that I did. But that isn’t exactly comforting to you, is it?”

Shauna shoots her a glare. “It all sounded very much like you were just pretending whatever she’d want to say or do.”

A rueful smile. “True. It lasted for so long. I forgot what the difference was.”

Shauna glances at Lottie, because she can’t really be buying all this, right? But Lottie looks conflicted, and something awfully close to sympathetic.

“I think, Shauna,” she says carefully, “that we should at least consider hearing her out.”

“Fuck this,” Shauna bites back, and to Sid: “Fuck you.” She storms off towards the ladder again before Lottie can protest, feeling at that chunk of horn that’s still in her pocket.

“Uno.”

“Oh, come on.”

Van reviews the cards left in her deck and whether any of them can do something to avoid her losing way too soon this round. Sid may look all smug about it, but Van knows the official rules, and the ones that lead to hour-long discussions on their validity or not. No trouble with that here.

They sit across from each other in the attic; Sid inside that seance circle, and Van outside of it. A few days ago they removed the ropes on her wrists. The ones around the ankles sit tight, still. A precaution, one they all more or less agreed on when she seemed to get better sooner than expected. So now there’s Van upstairs playing cards with something that Laura Lee might have mistaken for an actual demon. Fitting, given the location. Van doesn’t have much trouble with it, or at least not as much as Shauna. She and Sid — even when it was still Jackie — had gotten along alright.

“Seven, so I can go again.” She puts the card onto the stack with confidence.

“Nice stalling, Palmer. I don’t think that’s something you can do, though.”

And of course there’s Natalie with the gun, sitting in the corner and a bit bored out of her mind that she feels the need to ruin her fun.

“Yeah, yeah, love you you too, Scatty.” Van throws her last effort on the deck, and gives up when Sid places a fitting suit on top of it. “Why don’t you give it a try if you know the rules so well?” To which Nat shrugs, and they swap places.

Another rule with Sid’s hands freed: no staying up here with her alone. They’re pretty sure that the circle and the symbols work, but caution never killed a cat, or however that saying goes. Usually Natalie is there to hold the gun and give some semblance of there being a guard. Not that she’s ever aimed it, only resting it lazily against her shoulder. Like Van, she gets along with Sid, and Sid with her, despite some earlier differences when hide-and-seek was still taking place. Lottie is neutral; Misty overly eager to go up here; and Taissa and Shauna enter the attic rarely and with much caution. It’s only with the current group, Van thinks, that Sid lets her guard down a bit.

So Van can ask irrelevant questions and set up more of a sleepover vibe to get some answers that the others don’t really think of. It’s not meant as anything manipulative, she really does want to get to know this one better.

Van also knows that there will come a point when Sid will leave the cabin and show them wherever Jackie is, and at this point, Van feels a calling to be the person to go along on that heist mission. If only to see something like in the movies, or to do Jackie some favor for that plane engine save, back in the day. Sid seems to agree with it as much.

“We could go in two days,” she says some time later. A different day, with discolored patches almost completely faded out and the only remnant of Shauna’s rampage being the chipped horn. She tucks the hair out of her face, unfamiliar with how unruly it was before. “They won’t notice you coming with me like the others, with the whole…” She gestures vaguely. “Almost-dying thing. It’s too difficult to explain.”

Van snorts. “Cool superpower I get.”

“Yeah, I guess. We still have to be careful, but you have a decent shot.”

“Risky business. I like that.” And Van shakes the deck and divides them amongst the three of them.

“Let’s call on the council then?” Nat asks, and puts down the first card to start the round.

The rope snaps easily on the blade of the knife. Sid rubs at the sore spot where it has dug into the skin too much, but ultimately appears grateful to finally be released. To a degree. All those that know have gathered in the attic, each providing a watchful eye when Sid gets to their full height.

“All good then?” she asks, sheepishly. It’s still an adjustment to suddenly be regarded as so different from them. “I swear I’m not going to try anything, but you have enough on me to make me regret it if I do.” Her gaze passes Shauna, one hand in her pocket, holding that one piece of her that will never go with her again.

“Of course.” Lottie looks over the others, taking in each of their stances. “Stay safe?” She holds out her hand across the invisible border of her jail cell. Sid takes it, ignores the angry eyes pressing on her back, and lets Lottie pull her across the line. Whatever weight it had put on her, it easily falls away. Sid takes it in with a deep breath, and stretches as the rest of her form returns to the one she’d grown comfortable with. A soft “sorry” is what she directs at Shauna most of all, but the other girl steels herself against responding at all. It still stings.

The others downstairs, mostly oblivious, don’t look up when she steps into what has become the nursery to see Hector one last time, stroking his soft cheeks with Shauna looming in the doorway.

“I never wanted to hurt him. You know that, right?”

“I don’t know what I should know when it comes to you.” Shauna crosses her arms with a soft huff. “Where do you even think you’ll go after? No way it’s back here.” She tries to be mean with it, pointed. Sid can hear her try and strain her voice to keep herself above all this shit about feelings and honesty.

Their group is packing things outside for the trip; enough to help, but little to avoid raising suspicions among Mari and the like.

“You knew as much about me as I did about you. It’s what I liked about you, Shauna. Not as an ego thing. All this… hiding wasn’t something I wanted to put you through if I had known you before.”

“Sounds like bullshit,” Shauna grunts, but comes to stand at the crib regardless.

“Maybe. It was real to me, at least.”

“Was it really all you or was it also…”

She’s gripped on the edge of the grip, knuckles blooming red under freshly healed scars.

“Jackie? Maybe. I think so, but you’d call me out for trying to weasel my way out of something by saying that.”

Sid pulls away, towards the door, but is first halted by a hand around her wrist and then an embrace. Shauna says nothing, merely holds on tightly, and allows Sid to settle into it.

“I’ll get her back to you,” is what she promises to her, and a little bit to Hector, too. “As safely as I can.”

She hopes that is enough when the leave the cabin and step out in the last stretch of cold that winter has thrown over these parts of the wilderness. Van has the gun hoisted up on her shoulder and a small makeshift bag with some strip of jerky hanging from the other.

“After you,” she says, ever trying to keep the sunny disposition.

Sid nods, looks forwards, picks their direction, and glances over her shoulder one last time. A bittersweet feeling growing ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

And now she went continually onwards, far, far to the very end of the world.
Then she came to the sun, but it was too hot and terrible, and devoured little children.
Hastily she ran away, and ran to the moon, but it was far too cold, and also awful and malicious, and when it saw the child it said,
“I smell, I smell the flesh of men.”

— from The Seven Ravens by The Brothers Grimm

I must have known what she was going to say, because I was chilled; all this day had been building up to what Helen Clarke was going to say right now. I sat in my low chair and looked hard at Constance, wanting her to get up and run away, wanting her not to hear what was just about to be said, but Helen Clarke went on,

“It’s spring, you’re young, you’re lovely, you have a right to be happy. Come back into the world.”

— from We Have Always Lived in The Castle by Shirley Jackson

It’s becoming comical by the third time that snow from the branches above almost puts out their fire again. Spring is well on it’s way, so the cold isn’t what they need a fire for the most. It’s the possible stalkers in the night; tracking them as they draw closer to whatever Sid’s home used to be.

“So the whole crew’s at breakfast, chatting and stuff, when the one guy that had his face attacked shouts like he’s been stabbed!”

A smaller audience, but now Van is at least sure that the listener has never seen or heard of Alien. If she slips up or forgets a detail, it’s really not a problem if she puts the right spin on it after. On her end, she’s rarely seen the real Jackie be so captivated by her movie recaps, but it’s nice to pretend.

Sid’s not really shown her ‘true form’, or whatever to call it, out here. Van’s pretty sure it’s to keep those other guys on the flip side fooled, but it still has her thinking.

“Do you like being her?” Van asks when the sky’s getting dark and her eyes become tired. Night isn’t a good time to enter their target for the heist, so they’ll spend it out here, in the woods. Sid snorts — the “I can’t believe you said that, Shauna” Jackie snort — and rubs her neck in thought.

“I think ‘like’ isn’t really the right word, but… yeah I guess I don’t mind it that much anymore.”

“As in you used to hate it?”

“Not really,” Sid shrugs, “it took some getting used to, but I picked up a thing or two that made more sense for me so I might keep that. I don’t need to justify it to anyone, or whatever.”

The bridge is there for Van to mention something; that whole thing about the future. Where the Yellowjackets will go, where Sid will end up, how Jackie will be.

“Are you worried that they could…?”

“Kill me, or something?”

“I guess.”

“It’s whatever it’s going to be. I don’t know if they have a plan for when I come back, or if they don’t care at all. I’ve heard nothing in a while.” Sid smiles. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine on your end, so don’t worry about that.”

Van knows the feeling all too well. Looking in the face of death this many times has left its mark upon her. “Don’t say that. We’d care.”

“Appreciated.” Sid shoves her shoulder, amicably. “Don’t think about it too much, though. You could use the sleep.”

“If you say so, boss.” Van stretches her arms over her head and cracks her neck, sneering at the disgust Sid flashes her way. With the fire here, with someone else around, it makes it somewhat better to be out in the open. The knowledge of there being more dangerous things out here makes the wolves look like puppies.

#

“Yo, can you turn into a wolf?”

“… Sure? Do you want me to or—”

“Oh no, please don’t. I was just curious.”

They rise at a similar hour as that Nat and Travis must be leaving the cabin to hunt. The lavender haze of dawn makes it harder to find their path. Sid’s sure of where to go, but the practicality of slipping with the wrong placement of a foot will slow them down in the early hours of the morning. They’re not taking the entrance closest to the cabin; the one that Tai would slip off to at night. This one is further into the woods, but safer. Like a proper heist, Sid’s taking the opposing team into account.

Van snaps branches to use as markers on the way back. The idea of it is daunting, and neither is sure what state Jackie will be in when they’ll fish her out.

“What is for sure is that you’ll have to go back without me,” Sid says once they’re all packed up and got the campfire out. “I can’t help you from over there.”

Van thinks of the floating specters above her pyre. Colorful shapes just out of focus enough for her to see who exactly was watching over her. Maybe they’d already been there, watching their every move and ready for any mistakes.

“Why did you decide on Jackie?” Van asks. “Why not Taissa when she went on a stroll? Why not Javi when he ran away?”

Sid shrugs. “Why do you wanna know? It doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

“I don’t know…” Van looks down at her shoes as they track through mushy dirt. Spring. She didn’t expect it to be almost here. The dull winter glow had made the season appear so endless. “I guess because she wasn’t the easiest, right in front of our doorstep.”

“That’s true,” Sid replies.

Van thinks that’s all, already turning her arms to snap the next branch on their path.

“But putting it bluntly, it was worth the risk.”

“Stone cold, dude.”

“Maybe. I didn’t know you all that well back then. It was better for me not to think about it too much.”

Taissa would say something about that not being an excuse, and to be fair, Sid looks like there’s more to say on this than she’s letting on, but Van keeps her mouth shut. She’s not one to question things that will be met with walls. If Sid feels like there’s something to say, Van’s sure she would hear it.

Sometimes ignorance is bliss, after all.

“Well,” she starts instead, “I hope you had a fun enough time with us out here in crash-land.”

Sid glances back, a careful smile forming. “Sure. I think I did.”

The rest of the walk is dotted with smalltalk. What tree is that? Oh yeah, this edible plant should be growing here come spring. If you ever have to move, there is a clearing in that direction. Future is a fickle topic, but they discuss it still.

Sid stops them when twilight is coming close.

“Okay, so we’re almost there,” she says, biting her lip. “I know I technically don’t need to ask, but you’re still okay on going through with this?”

It’s somewhat sweet. “Yeah, I’m sure.” Jackie both left and saved her ass, so Van’s felt a bit like making up for her own part in the ‘let’s evict Jackie’ night.

“Okey-dokey,” Sid says, more matter-of-factly than the word usually is.

It’s another mossy tree that is their point of entry. Sid urges her, before entering, that Van should turn back at the smallest sign of danger.

“Like I said, I don’t think they’ll catch on quickly if they don’t expect us, but I want at least you to make it back.”

Almost unconsciously, Van takes hold of Lottie’s bone amulet thing that’s under her layers of shirts. The tunnel is they go through is damp and mossy. Soft, but uncomfortably so. The air turns clammy for a moment before turning dry again. Little cold lingers in the air, not the intrinsic kind of mid-winter weather. This time it feels like a draft wafting in from a warmer place.

There’s a light at the end. Sunlight. Fractured through canopies of green into what feels like hundreds of distinct shades on the equally overgrown forest floor that they step onto.

“What the fuck…” Van mumbles, but is tugged along before she’s managed to take it all in.

“This way.”

Sid doesn’t have much time, it seems, as they walk through this lively world at a quick pace.

Birdsong follows them, but nothing else. No animals roam the foliage or dart away; no other sign of life appears where ever Sid drags Van towards. Van’s still mentally putting markers wherever they go for the way back. Sid’s a little on edge, but Van’s not going to let that mess with her own state of mind.

Fantasy goat people be damned.

“There’s this place, and you can’t come too close to it.” Sid begins explaining the next steps as they walk on. “I’ll get her out and take her place there, so if they come by you’ll have a head start. You’re gonna need it, because I’m pretty sure she won’t be up to walk for a while.”

Ugh. Van can already feel her arms aching.

Sid finally slows them down at the edge of what Van feels is her capacity to find the way back again. All in all they may not have walked for long, but the liveliness of the world around feels as disorienting as being on a holiday in a strange city. Sid’s listening; holding a breath and looking around between the trees.

“Okay, we’re clear.” It sounds out of breath from relief. “Wait here.”

She stops Van fully with both of her hands, holds up a finger for silence. It feels like the dropping-down-via-cable-through-lasers part of this whole thing. The part where one wrong move will blow this whole thing up in their faces.

Van can spot the edge of what Sid must’ve been talking about. An area full of flowers. Poppies, probably, if Van had to guess.

“That it?” she whispers with a hiss when Sid is a step away from it.

“Yeah,” Sid answers quickly, making shushing motions again. Her steps are awkward and high. Vine-like bundles of stems in the overgrowth catch her shoes here and there as she makes her way through with effort.

Van’s a good five feet away. Stepping closer she doesn’t dare, but the urge is there when Sid reaches a depression in the sea of green and red. Nerves jitter through her feet. Healthy goalie instincts to spring forth at the first sign that she needs it.

Sid digs through the green; rooting up and tearing away until an arm is loose with that familiar yellow sleeve around it. It’s not enough to really get her freed. Sid goes to work on the other side and then drags her out from underneath a whole layer of those flowers. Limp in her arms like it’s nothing.

Jackie Taylor, the same as the day she walked out into the great wide open.

Sid hoists her up at the shoulders so that they’re somewhat level before she picks her up bridal style and makes the way back to Van.

It’s uncanny, seeing the same face twice. One with improvised winter-proof clothes and a hardened look, calloused hands and longer hair. The other without wind-swept skin or the gauntness of a long winter, or clothes showing signs or wear and tear despite Akilah’s precise work with a needle and thread. The real one feels all the more like an impostor now.

Van swings the sling with the remaining bits of jerky they packed as provision to the front of her body so her back is free when Sid’s reached her.

“She good?”

Sid nods, kicking away some stray petals. “Think of it as sleeping. Like I said, it might take a while, so don’t worry too much if she’s still out when you reach the cabin.” She puts Jackie down on the moss to pick the last remaining flowers off her. “Can’t be too careful, though.”

Van feels useless standing here. It’s a point of saying goodbye that feels like a ‘but we’ll call for sure!’ and knowing that’s never going to happen.

“So, is this gonna be goodbye?” She asks, more or less as confirmation.

Sid looks up at her, and stands. “I think so.”

The atmosphere is awkward and Van can’t really find anything to blame for it. She didn’t really expect trading one Jackie in for another, one that she felt some sort of respect for over the past weeks swapped out for someone she’s not sure how to feel about with all that’s happened. For now, it’s sympathy, but who knows how that might turn when she’s still stuck in her old nagging ways? Hypotheticals. Taissa’s said before not to think in those. The future comes one day at a time.

Van makes a small decision in stepping around Jackie to pull Sid into a hug. Tight, the kind that betrays how tense Sid is, and the moment that fades out when she puts her own arms on Van’s back.

“I’ll be fine. Just get out of here.”

Van reluctantly agrees with a squeeze before she pulls back.

Sid helps with getting Jackie on her back so it’s easy to carry her, but Van still has to hope her legs won’t sour before she’s out in the wilderness again. The faint warmth of Jackie’s breath tickles her ear at even intervals.

“Here,” Sid says as she takes the fur-lined jacket off. “To keep up appearances.” She flashes a wry smirk while standing there in just the sweater. It’s all the same: those stripes, and the jeans, and the dirt-stained tennis shoes.

“See you around?” Van asks when Sid steps back into the poppies again, finding the spot to lie down. Her eyebrows rise in question, but she grins still.

“Sure thing, Van.”

And waves a brief goodbye.

Hector’s grip is weak, but at least he’s still here. Shauna’s been with him ever since Van and… Sid left. Briefly she doubted her choice to push it in this direction. What if it was all lies and they’d lose Van, too? It was everyone else that had to convince her of having some trust, but it was hard to gather together.

She’d been lied to. For weeks. Weeks on end of finally having some place to put her feeling, some sense in whatever it was that she had with Jackie, and then it all got warped into something it wasn’t. Writing to a penpal who wasn’t who they’d made themselves out to be. An entirely different person that she simply did not know.

Shauna knows there was a part of her that had known, somewhere, from the very beginning, that things were off.

Maybe she secretly wanted to keep up this act for her own selfish reason. There’s nothing to lose if you don’t acknowledge it ever going missing.

If Sid told the truth, then, well…

Hector holds her index finger tighter, and she sighs.

“At least there’s you, huh, Bug?”

He makes a grumbly noise. It could mean anything.

The door opening behind her feels like a release from purgatory; the endless waiting finally being interrupted by something. Lottie’s there, stepping inside and closing the door to the back room they’re in hastily behind her.

“Van’s back,” she says.

Shauna whips around to see her wide eyes, and has to stop herself from saying ‘already?’. She thought it would take longer. Such journeys weren’t meant to be over so soon.

She doesn’t feel like it should come to her so easily.

Gently her finger is pulled away from Hector, who is too asleep to notice its absence. Shauna follows Lottie, around the corner to the back door that’s out of sight from most of the others, and indeed sees them coming into the clearing again. Van’s there puffing air with a reddened face while Taissa is at her side for support. Shauna rushes through the half-melting snow to meet them and almost slips on the way there.

“Jackie?!”

Van complains with a groan when Shauna steps in their steady path to the cabin.

“Gee, Van, glad to see you’re back in one piece. What was the weather like over there?” She doesn’t halt to offer Shauna a chance at getting a good look, so instead she trails behind them with growing impatience.

They enter the cabin with heavy steps. Everyone is hissing directions and cues and overall make it an incomprehensible mess. Nat’s still out hunting, leaving nobody to knock some sense into the situation, but they manage to reach the room with Hector so Van can almost sprint to the bed to drop Jackie from her shoulders. The thud is loud and has Shauna cringe, but Jackie doesn’t respond.

There’s a cold grip of something in her chest. “Van, is she—?”

“No! It’s cool, even if it doesn’t look like it.” Van stops explaining to catch her breath. “I really need some water. What the fuck.”

Lottie’s on her way before Tai can offer.

“We should give her time, is what she said,” Van continues as Shauna sits at the side of the bed, observing the steady rise and fall with each breath.

She has to believe it this time. This time she’s real.

Shauna takes the piece of horn from her pocket with one hand, and Jackie’s nearest hand with the other. She’s still not one for Lottie’s kind of faith in the forces out there, but superstition is hard to keep fully away with what they’ve been going through. Shauna presses the hard material in the limp palm, and holds it with both her hands; feeling like she should say something and blanking for the right words.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly when Tai and Van leave to take Lottie’s cups of water outside. “And I love you.”

On day five, Misty carefully broaches the topic of comas that go on for too long. Not good for the brain activity, she shares like it’s a fun piece of trivia. They take her away before Shauna can get snappy and then maybe violent.

She stays there, with Jackie, with Hector, and the brief interruptions when others bring in food, or questions, or talk, or simply good company. Shauna’s not sure how much of each night she spends actually asleep. She always wakes up, that’s for sure, but without remembering when sleep won in her struggle to keep looking for any sign of active life.

Shauna does talk, of course. Her mom had said that there was something about what they said in the movies about talking even when there’s no response. A couple of times she brings Hector to the bed when he’s looking more present than the bleary baby he is on other days.

“He’s holding on, you know. Silly bug that he is.” She glances up and still feels dejected by the lack of change. “I’m sure he’ll like you. He did so before, and it’s not like he’ll know the difference.”

On day seven there is the briefest thought of grieving what might be to come. At some point they must think about it being a lost cause. Admit that they were fooled! Once again! The only thing keeping hope with her is that Jackie’s otherwise still breathing, still there with a steady pulse and warm skin.

Still there still there still there.

“It was always about you.” She says it on night number ten, when outside the cabin the blizzards have turned to gusts of rain beating against the wood.

“I don’t think I ever would’ve admit it if you’d been around all the time. I gained some perspective, which sounds stupid, and it is, I guess. In hindsight it took way too long, and I did the wrong things because of it. Which isn’t an excuse, I know. I didn’t want to risk it, or have you know what it could be about. In short I feel so stupid that I didn’t do anything good about it. It took all this for me to admit it to myself, and to you, and to whoever else might have a reason to know. Do you get how that sounds? That it was a crash and all that bullshit that finally pushed some pieces in the right spot?”

Shauna listens with her head on a shoulder and an arm loosely around Jackie’s waist. The silence isn’t new. This time it might just give her a blissful moment of self-reflection.

“Sorry for rambling. I don’t feel much like writing these days.” She pulls closer, leaving enough room for Hector between them, in the crook of her elbow.

“I promise I’ll tell you whatever I’m thinking from now on. No more secrets.”

Hector crying wakes Shauna again from a sleep that snuck up on her. She holds him closer to shush him, and is caught off guard by the other hand already softly stroking the soft hairs on his head.

“Jackie?”

Her eyes are barely open, but they’re blinking against the morning sun. “He’s loud enough to be a cricket, huh,” she mumbles.

“Is it really you?”

Shauna lifts her up at the chin, trying to find something, a little piece of familiarity that she can put all her worries away with.

“Don’t ask me that now, Shipman.” Jackie’s nose scrunches up. “I had this fucked up dream, you wouldn’t believe it.” Her hand brings up the tip of horn and she turns it over in fascination. “But I guess you might be able to explain some things.”