A/N: NOW who's being a bone-head? *sigh* Michelangelo... Ya know I love you, but sometimes you are an idiot.
Chapter 9 -Treed-
~~~
"Leo, you're going to get us all killed if you don't slow down!" Ann laid her hand on his arm, giving him a squeeze. "I know you're worried about Don, but driving off the road isn't going to help him."
"Don't distract him, Ann," growled Raph.
"Ann is right, my sons," said Splinter calmly. "Leonardo, do not allow your concern for your brother to cloud your judgment."
"Sorry, Sensei," said Leo, easing off the gas just a little.
He'd resented the time it took to stop at the farmhouse and trade April's van for the Battle-Shell. The argument between himself, Raph and the girls about their tagging along when they went after Michelangelo had taken even more precious time. It was bad enough that they'd delayed long enough to drop Bailey, Ann's dog, off at Casey's back in the city. He didn't intend to waste another moment getting to his brother.
Leo's dark eyes were glued to the road. "We're almost to where Michelangelo is. Raph, can you call him? Tell him to meet us on the road. We'll have to walk back in to where he last tracked Don to and go on from there."
"You got it, Leo." Raphael flipped open his shell-cell.
Ann sat back in the seat, tightening her lap-belt grimly as Leonardo took another turn without slowing down. Even April was beginning to look a bit queasy. Austin just gripped the edges of her seat and looked out the window. The only sign of her worry was the small frown that creased her brow.
"I don't like Mikey being out there alone," she said, so softly only Splinter heard. He turned to glance at his daughter-in-law with a knowing smile.
"Michelangelo is very able," he said gently. "He will come to no harm."
"I know, Sensei," she answered, a slight flush creeping up her cheeks. "I know he can take care of himself, but someone took Donny down. We don't know what we're dealing with. If there's someone out there who can take on one of the guys, this might be more dangerous than we think."
"Donatello was alone," said Splinter. "And weakened by his recent illness. He was not looking for trouble. Michelangelo is aware of the danger. He will be more cautious."
Austin didn't answer but her hand slowly reached out. Splinter took her fingers in his paw and gave them a gentle squeeze. Austin managed a shaky smile.
***
Michelangelo moved silently over the leaf litter, every sense on high alert.
Shell, Leo, you'd better get here fast. This just keeps getting creepier and creepier, like one o' those horror movies where somebody disappears, then somebody else goes lookin' for 'em, and the second somebody disappears, then everybody goes lookin', an' then they find the monster and he eats all their brains.
Mikey shook himself. They're on their way. They'll be here any minute. I gotta find out as much as I can about where Donny is. Leo's gonna hang my shell out to dry. Why'd I let Don talk me into letting him go alone, anyway?
He made his way across the clearing, concealing himself in the late evening shadows the trees cast. He smelled wood smoke and heard the faint whicker of a horse.
I wonder if this is where that guy is I saw in the woods. I wonder if he knows where Don is?
Slowly, cautiously, he made his way to the barn. Mike was painfully aware of the flickering light coming from the cabin window. The man was inside, he was sure of it. He didn't dare go through the barn doors. Instead, he felt his way around the walls.
I bet there's another way in, he thought. Finding what he was looking for, he smiled. Bingo. He slipped the loose board aside, not noticing the fine strands of reddish-blond hair clinging to the splinters, and slipped inside. In a moment, his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Mikey froze as he heard something move from across the barn, a soft stamping hoof-beat. The horse whickered again.
"Hey there, big guy," whispered Mike, easing across the barn. The horse shook its head, watching him approach, but didn't shy away when he reached tentatively to stroke its nose. "You seem awfully calm around giant turtles, dude," said Mike. "Like… you might've seen one of us before."
Michelangelo began searching the barn for any sign his brother might've been there. He moved slowly into the stall next to the horse's. He noticed that the floor was cool and damp, as if it'd been washed recently. He knelt to touch the concrete, searching for any sign of his brother's presence. Seeing nothing significant, he reached out to grasp the stall slats and pull himself up. That's when he noticed the grooves worn into the slat. A closer look revealed threads of what appeared to be rope caught in the furrow.
Before he could contemplate what his discovery might mean, a vibration at his hip made him jump nearly out of his shell.
"Geez, Leo, give a guy a heart attack why dontcha," he muttered, flipping open his shell-cel.
"Mike, we're almost there. Meet us at da road." Raphael's gruff voice echoed in the quiet barn.
"Keep it down, Raph," hissed Michelangelo, slapping his fingers over the speaker. "I don't know where the road is. I came in through the woods."
"Where are you, Mikey?" Raph's eyes narrowed behind his mask. "Ya ain't doin' not'in stupid, are ya?"
"I'm in a barn. I'm looking for clues," whispered Mike. "Why don't you guys track me? I'll meet you in the woods."
"Mike, get outta there," Raphael snapped.
"In a minute, Raphy. Just get here. Somethin's weird about this place."
"We'll be there soon. Get outta there, Mikey."
"Ok." Mike snapped his shell-cel closed.
Michelangelo slipped out of the stall, staring around the barn. Hearing footsteps outside, he froze for an instant before disappearing up the ladder into the hayloft.
Mikey watched as the barn door opened slowly. A figured moved in the shadows, not bothering with a light. Mike's eyes narrowed as the man slipped across the barn to the horse's stall. He stopped for a moment, turning slowly and scanning the space. The turtle watched, frowning.
That's the guy I saw before. No way does he know I'm here, he thought, shrinking back into the shadows.
The man moved into the stall and began brushing the horse, calming it with soothing tones and firm strokes of the brush. He picked its feet, filled the hay net and fetched it a scoop of grain from a barrel. Finally he made his way out of the barn, closing the door softly behind him.
Weird.
Mikey leapt lightly to the floor. He poked his head over the horse's stall one more time. The horse munched calmly at its sweet feed, barely sparing him a glance. Mike shook his head. Something definitely wasn't right, but there wasn't anything else to find here. He slipped back outside, melting into the shadows. Michelangelo started toward the trees but hesitated.
That guy went into the house. I wonder what he's doin' in there? Maybe I should wait for the guys. But it's just one guy. I can handle this. What if he's got Donny in there? I've got to check it out.
Slowly, carefully, he moved across the yard. Michelangelo was nearly to the porch when he heard a low growl. He froze, staring into the darker black under the porch. Something moved, white teeth glistening. The growl was louder now, chilling Mikey's blood. He yanked his nunchucks from his belt, backing away.
"Nice… whatever you are," he whispered. "Easy now. I don't taste good. See, 'm green. Yuck. You don't wanna eat anything that's turned green, dude, trust me. I ate a slice of green pizza once, and I was sick for a week…" He moved carefully toward the darker shadows of the trees, painfully aware of too much open space around him.
The dog launched itself from under the porch like a ball ejected from a cannon. Michelangelo barely had time to "Eeeep!" before it was upon him.
His nun-chuck whistled, catching the frothing animal in the side of the head. The enormous dog yelped, rolling aside. It gained its feet and charged again. By the time the dog oriented on the fleeing turtle, Michelangelo was more than half way across the yard, aiming for a tree with low branches. He jumped, an impossible leap for a man but just within the bounds of a mutated ninja used to jumping roofs across alleys.
Mikey almost made it. He was stretching, his fingertips just brushing the branch, when he felt a tearing pain in the back of his calf. He grasped the rough wood, swinging himself up, feeling the dog's teeth tear into his leg even as he yanked loose from its grasp.
He swung up into the tree, ignoring the burning, tearing sensation in his leg, and gained a rather shaky foothold. The young ninja pulled himself further up the tree, feeling hot liquid run down the back of his leg. Without looking down at the snarling animal, he swung, arcing his body to gain the momentum he needed to throw his body into the next tree. Landing lightly on a branch, he sprang again, wobbling a bit as he flew from branch to branch, barely pausing as he disappeared into the night.
***
Jack Koban heard Rufus barking outside. He slid his chair back from the table, snatching up his shotgun as he headed out the door. Rufus might've treed a 'coon, or the turtle-creature might've come back. Jack smiled to himself. He'd figured once the critter got loose, it'd make a bee-line for the army base. Or it would disappear into the woods. It'd done a decent job of covering whatever tracks it'd left. Even Rufus hadn't found a scent trail to follow.
By the way Rufus was barking now, though, he'd found something interesting. Jack hurried outside, scanning the darkness. Rufus was beyond the barn, barking up a tree. Jack jogged over, calling the dog off with a sharp whistle.
"What've ya got, boy?" he asked, patting the still-growling dog on the head. He sniffed the air, catching the faint scent of fresh blood before he reached the tree Rufus was circling. Jack's eyes narrowed.
"What've you got there, Boy? Looks like ya got a piece of it, anyway." He came closer, cautious. Jack knew there was nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal. No rustle of leaves or brush of fur or skin against bark gave away the presence of a treed creature. The forest was as quiet as it ever was, only the lonesome hoot of a sleepy owl and the soft twittering of song birds as they settled in for the night broke the silence.
Jack put his hand on the bark, feeling a bit of familiar sticky slick wetness. He sniffed his fingers, confirming what he already knew. Blood. Not a lot, but enough to tell him whatever Rufus had wounded was large enough to lose a fair amount and keep on going.
The man chuckled. The turtle wasn't far off, after all. He'd begun to worry that his sister might've found the creature, that it could have forced her to drive it someplace. It was certainly cunning enough. He'd even considered riding the horse over there, to check up on her. He was sure now that the turtle was too weak to have tangled with his sister. Somehow it had managed to get free of the ropes he'd used to bind it, but he was certain it hadn't been strong enough to overpower Beverly. She was strong, that one. Too strong for her own good sometimes.
Jack frowned. He was fairly certain Beverly hadn't hung around. She'd left the supplies on the porch and gone. No way had she seen the turtle he'd left in the barn. He'd even muzzled the creature, so it couldn't make any noise when she came.
The turtle had gotten loose, but now Jack was certain it was still hanging around the place. Tomorrow, in the daylight, he'd take Rufus and track it. He hadn't done any serious hunting in a long while. It was time he went out after dangerous game.
