Author's Note: I really wish I had just made this into one whole chapter instead of dividing it, but I felt it was necessary as the chapters aren't as long as I usually write. I'd hate to speed things up too much, yeah? Anyways, as always, the support up until this point has been amazing! Without you all, I wouldn't have kept any motivation at all.
- CHAPTER FOUR: DAY THREE PART II OF II -
It had started with a burning sensation in his throat, followed by a wave of dizziness, intense shivering, and now has progressed into sniffling, the occasional sneeze, and sometimes a chest rattling cough. Tyson's certain that he is sick, not that he wants to really admit it, being in such a horrible situation and all. But damn it, his nose won't quit itching! He scrunches his face and rubs at his raw nostrils with the back of his hand for the umpteenth time in the past hour, his eyes blinking lazily. To his left, Kai shoots him a worried look.
"Hypothermia has begun to sit in . . ." Kai mumbles, through half-lidded eyes that are focused on Tyson. The younger teen shakes his head in denial.
"Nah, I'm fine . . ." he murmurs in response, pulling his legs up to his chest with the hopes of putting a stop to his uncontrollable shivering. A Granger never admits when they're wrong - well, at least not without a fight anyways. Kai raises an eyebrow, forming an expression that makes the word 'seriously' piece together in the world champ's brain.
"Just . . . come here." the older of the two demands quietly, but with that certain tone of voice that Tyson knows not to argue with. Dragoon's wielder releases an irritated sigh that sounds more nasally than intended, and scoots closer to Kai, nearly jumping when he feels a weight settle on his shoulders which turns out to be the other's arm draping around him. For some strange, indescribable reason, hot blood rushes up from his chest, through his neck, and flares into the rounds of his cheeks, reddening his already pinkish face.
"Heh, you know . . ." Tyson begins with a gulp, a nasty flavor settling in his throat. Kai grunts to indicate that he is listening. "It sure is going to be awkward when we get out of here . . ."
"That's why we don't mention what has happened. This stays between us," Kai grumbles, shifting into a more comfortable position, "Got it, Granger?"
Tyson chuckles only to wince, rub at his sore throat, and curl into himself at the sharp throbbing that originates from his broken rib. "Y-Yeah, understood, loud and clear, former cap'n." he croaks out painfully.
"Hn. Good."
After that, a comfortable silence, despite the more than awkward conversation, befalls the two. Tyson eventually drapes his blanket around Kai's slightly shivering shoulders and pulls it taut, earning a grunt in return. He smirks and shamelessly huddles against his older friend's side.
"Definitely awkward." the younger snickers, knowing it will certainly get under the other's skin.
Kai doesn't disappoint. He twitches, promptly shoots a sideways glare, and hisses in warning: "Tyson."
A few odd hours into their search, Hilary and Kenny's separate parties meet up; unfortunately, both have gotten nowhere. No locals, shopkeepers, beybladers, or Kai and Tyson's fans have seen the two within the past couple of days.
"This just keeps getting worse . . ." Hilary murmurs, wringing her hands nervously, her ruby irises flickering from her snow-boots and the looming buildings on either side. Kenny nods wearily to her left, his chin tilted downward in disappointment.
"We've been everywhere that Tyson visits regularly," Kenny says, voice heavy, "No one's seen them."
"Actually, Ray and Hiro's party have just contacted us," Marcus, a middle-aged man who Mr. Dickenson hired and was originally part of Hilary's search party, announces calmly.
The two teens gasp and send the man hopeful glances. He sighs and rubs at his temples. "Don't get your hopes up. They have reason to suspect that one or both are injured due to a fall - that is, if it is even them."
"WHAT?!" Hilary screeches, eyes wide, heart fluttering in her chest. Kenny instantly grabs her arm to keep her from pouncing on the man like a wildcat and tugs her back to his side.
Marcus takes a deep breath. "You've got to understand: they may or may not be on the right path. If Tyson and Kai are lost in the forest, their chances of being found are next to none. You have to be prepared for the worst - and not hope for the best. It will only bring you down."
Kenny frowns. "I'm not going to just give up on Tyson and Kai - they're my friends."
Hilary nods fervently. "Besides, those two boys are too stubborn to just . . . die."
Marcus smiles weakly, scratches the back of his head, and says, "I hope you're right, kids. I really do . . ."
"Do you see anything, Max?!"
The blond male blinks and looks to the front of the helicopter from his position near the open door on the side, his right hand securely wrapped around a metal handle. Before answering the pilot's question, he trails his blue eyes down to the forest just twenty feet below in hopes of catching a glimpse of either Kai, Tyson, or billowing smoke from a fire. Unfortunately, he sees none of the three.
"No!" he calls back, shivering despite his thick coat, mitts, scarf, and knitted toboggan. He sighs, tightening his hold on the handle, his heart heavy in his chest. With each second that ticks by, he loses more and more hope that his friends will be found. Hilary, Kenny, nor Diachi's groups have reported in with any leads. Though, Ray and Hiro's have.
"We found trails made by a beyblade - scorch marks that could easily be identified as Hiwartari's Dranzer's." They had said. Of course, that rekindled any hope that Max had, but when they added: "However, we also found something discouraging: a tattered piece of cloth - no doubt from a pair jeans - covered in blood near the bottom of a treacherous hillside. We will follow this path and see if we can find more signs . . ." Max's mood deflated.
Those words could only be translated into one thing: if Tyson, Kai, or both are out in the woods, there is a high probability that they are injured. And that, is unsettling. This frigid weather is an obstacle in and of itself, but that, added to injury, is just devastating. If Max didn't already think their chances of survival were slim enough, he certainly does now.
The sixteen-year-old sighs, a frown in-tact.
A part of him wants to blame himself that this ever happened. If he hadn't left Japan and had been staying with Tyson at the dojo, this might not have happened. He and Tyson would be slacking off with training and Kai would be nagging for them to get off their lazy rears. Everything would be right.
He settles back into his seat and slides the door frontward, closing it. Instantly the bitter wind that had felt like violent lashes against his fair skin ceases. He leans back and thrusts his right hand into his pocket, Draciel's familiar blunt edges soothing.
Kai . . . Tyson . . . we'll find you, guys. Promise.
"Aw, man, I really don't think Tyson is in these woods . . ." Daichi murmurs, receiving blank stares from the men clad in black on either side of him. The redhead arches his eyebrows. "What?"
"It's practically been confirmed that one or both are in these woods."
Daichi crosses his arms, a stick with a cooked, yet now cold, Polish sausage dangling by a thin string attached to a sturdy stick, grasped in one of his hands. "Well, if Tyson had really been stuck out here for three days, then he would be like a freaking ravenous beast." he says matter-of-factually, shaking his head. "Which is why he would be running at the smell of this awesome sausage - and don't ask how I know - we have the same appetite."
Grandpa Granger, who has managed to keep up with the search party, leans towards Senji, a rather large man assigned to packing any heavy equipment on his back, and whispers, "That's no lie, man. They have black holes for stomachs."
"Anyways, either we're in the wrong neck of the woods, or Tyson is dead - or hates sausage, and I know that's not true. He'd eat anything." Daichi adds.
"Well, there is a chance we're in the wrong section of the forest," Peater, a scrawny individual tasked with driving this particular party's jeep, says, "Then we will just start heading east - we'll eventually run into Hiro's party - and if Kai and Tyson are this way, there's a high chance of finding them too."
"Now, that sounds like a plan!" Grandpa Granger chirps, marching 'east'. "We'll find you little dude and K-man!"
Peater sighs. "Mr. Granger . . ."
"What?!"
"You're going in the wrong direction . . ."
"Oh. I knew that."
Hiro frowns, peering down into a rather expansive bear trap - also easily identified as a gaping man-made hole scarring the earth. Normally, he would not be concerned with something so trivial, however, there has been signs of a struggle. The snow isn't as deep near the edge, and after hand shoveling away some of the snow, grooves in the soft soil reveal that someone had to climb out of the trap recently.
"I don't think Kai would be so careless to get caught in a bear trap," Ray pipes quietly. "But I wouldn't put it past Tyson."
Hiro nods and turns back to approach the jeep where the rest of the crew lingers, taking sips of something from their thermals. "We need to keep going. This search is only going to become more difficult at night."
"I hate to burst your bubble, Hiro, but we only have about an hour of day left - if that."
Hiro glances at the Chinese blader as they both approach the rear of the vehicle, both intending to hop in the back. "I'm aware of that fact," he says, opening the back left door and sliding in with ease, shutting the door once he is inside. Ray mimics his actions on the opposite side. "That is why we need to get going now."
"You're right," Ray agrees with a nod, just as Mr. Dickenson's employees hop into the jeep, slamming doors and settling into their seats.
"We keep going this way," Hiro directs the driver, receiving a nod in response.
"Before long we will be back around this mountain - on the side we came from."
Hiro feels a subtle downturn of his lips and crosses his arms. "Then we will need to drive slowly, there's a chance that they are taking up refuge in any of the nearby caves - remember?" The driver once again bobs his head, the vehicle instantly slowing into a pace that makes peering outside easier.
Tyson . . . if you're out there. Please, hold on just a little longer. Hiro grips his arms tightly, his dark gaze flickering beyond the trees, searching frantically for any sight of a cave. He refuses to fail his younger sibling again. He can't, he won't. He clenches his jaw.
It's hard not for the twenty-three-year-old to envision his younger brother in his current predicament; injured, cold, hungry, and possibly curled up on the cold floor of a cave, alone and scared. The mental cinema is enough to push him to teeter on the edge of panicked and enraged. Panicked because of Tyson's carelessness and possible death; enraged because he failed to protect his sibling.
He had promised his dying mother that Tyson would be safe. That he would always have his back. Of course, he had only been thirteen at the time of the promise, and the weight that it bore on top of their father leaving in the midst of the grieving, had been stifling - demanding - too much for him to even begin to comprehend. He bitterly smirks.
It was one of many reasons he left when he got the chance. Which really, looking back, it was just him running away from his insecurities, fears, and his responsibilities. At the time, he had thought of Tyson as a burden. A reminder of what their family had once been: complete. But after being away for so long, finally having the room to breath, he realized what was important: the promise - Tyson.
Hiro taps his fingers impatiently against the backs of his arms, his eyes darting every-which-way through the dimming veil of dusk. He squints, takes deep breaths, grinds his teeth, and stiffens his spine multiple times before slumping back into his seat, irritated and beginning to feel traces of desperation making its way to the forefront of his mind. Where are you, Tyson?
"Look!" the driver bellows abruptly, coming to a halt. While everyone else's seat belts tighten up and hold them firmly in place, Ray's remains slack, causing him to tilt forward and slam his head into the back of the seat in front of him. He groans and sits straight, rubbing his throbbing forehead.
"What?" Hiro prompts, unbuckling himself in anticipation. The driver motions north-west. The older Granger sibling instantly follows his index finger, darting to the trail of light left by the headlights and freeze when he catches a small cave opening in the side of the mountain they have kept close to. Him and Ray leave no room for hesitation; they leap from the jeep and dash to the cave.
Hiro's heart throbs painfully against his chest as he pounces from one foot to the other. At one point, in the short run, he even wonders why he is pushing himself so hard, when he knows there is a high chance that Tyson is not inside this specific cave. He narrows his brows.
Something, what it is, he isn't too sure, but something inside of him is ringing all his internal alarms, screaming 'he's in there!' Brotherly instinct? He hopes so.
When he and Ray get to the cave's entrance, neither winded, he detaches the flashlight attached to one the belt loops on his jeans and points it towards the cave. He takes the deepest breath he can muster, calms his rapidly beating heart, and slams his thumb against the small 'on' button on the side of the metal contraption.
A bright light flickers to life and floods every inch of the surprisingly shallow cave, kissing the rounded walls, ceiling, floor, and highlighting a peculiar lump set off to the left. Ray and Hiro glance at each other curiously.
"What is it?" the younger of the two implores, squinting.
"I don't know . . ." Hiro answers, taking a step forward, just as he catches a glimpse of navy blue tresses mingled with two-toned gray and slate, a blanket draped around two slender figures. He gasps. It's - "Tyson! Kai!"
Around an hour later, at the Granger dojo, Hilary, Kenny, and Max have all reunited. Their search parties all ended in failure about two hours ago, leaving them with nothing to do but head back to the dojo and hope that Ray and Hiro's search group comes back with their two teammates in tow.
The two boys currently preoccupy the kitchen table in silence, while Hilary finishes brewing a pot of tea. She settles down three glass cups that she found in one of the cupboards onto the tables shiny surface, two of which go to the boys, and one for herself beside Max. She serves the tea, puts it back on the stove, and then takes her own seat.
Max props his elbows up on the table and cradles the warm cup between his hands. "I'm so worried about them."
Hilary, after taking a sip of her tea, sighs. "We all are Max. I just hope that one of the others has better luck than us."
"Well," Kenny begins, adjusting his circular glasses upon his head, "I think that Hiro and Ray are on the right trail. They've found multiple clues indicating that someone is out in those woods. After finding beyblade marks, we can only assume it's a blader. Possibly two or more."
Max wedges his bottom lip between his pearly teeth. "Honestly, I don't want to believe that they're out in those woods."
"Yeah." Hilary declares, a tight expression in-tact. "They found a bloody cloth thingy. If that's them, then they are hurt! Hurt, Kenny. That's never good!"
This time, Kenny allows a sigh to escape his lips. He shuts his laptop and crosses his arms. "Honestly, I would rather them be out in the woods, then kidnapped, possibly being tortured, or worse: murdered."
A tense silence ensues where all three imagine horrifying images of Tyson and Kai, kidnapped, bound, and bloodied. It's enough to leave the trio breathless and trembling - when Hilary's phone starts vibrating loudly against the table's surface. Immediately the brunette gasps and reaches for the small object, her eyes dancing across the screen frantically.
"Who is it, Hil?" Max inquires.
"It's Ray!" she answers, hitting the green and white 'talk' bubble on the phone's touch screen. She raises the contraption up to her ear. "Ray?!"
Max and Kenny shoot each other side way glances before giving Hilary their undivided attention. The G-Revolutions' sole female kicks back her chair with such velocity that the wooden masterpiece topples over and falls flat on its back. She seems unfazed as her hand tightens around her phone drastically, her ruby irises widening.
"You found Tyson AND Kai?!" she blares, all three expressing relief upon their faces. Suddenly Hilary's facial expression becomes heavy once more, bearing more concern. "You had to take them to the hospital?"
"What?!" Max snaps, poking Hilary. "Put it on speaker phone!"
"Yeah! We want to know what's going on, too!" Kenny demands, voice quivering. Hilary retracts her phone from the side of her head and does as requested of her. Ray's voice fills the room immediately.
"They're in pretty bad condition . . . you all should come here. Now."
To be continued . . .
That's all for now! I know this chapter didn't really focus directly on Tyson and Kai more than indirectly, but they're still the main concern. However, I felt this chapter was completely necessary to the plot.
On another note, you don't know how sad I was with how little time I've had to write in the past few months. I've really missed it! Work and school equates to a lot of stress in my life. And writing is just an outlet for me. It's upsetting I haven't had the chance to sit down and get all my creative juices flowing for longer than ten or twenty minutes at a time. UGH.
Anyways, your thoughts would be appreciated as always!
