Muskrat... muskrat candle light, do the jitterbug and... They called it puppy love. Oh I guess they'll never know... that Ben, the two of us need look no more. We both found what we were looking for... was the biggest kick I ever got, was doing a thing called the crocodile rock, while the other kids were rocking round the clock, we were hopping and bopping to the crocodile rock... O baby let me be your loving teddy bear, put a chain around my neck and lead me anywhere...
She staggered down the muddy trail, hoping she was going in the reverse direction, in which the van had brought her hours before. She couldn't remember how long she had been moving, but after twenty rounds of link the song, she knew it must be at least five miles. The scope of her vision was narrowed by the heaviness of the rain, the range of her motion was limited by the pain that engulfed her frame. The only reason she played the musical child's game was to keep the involuntary urge to crumble from winning. So in order for self-preservation she needed to do whatever it took to say awake, or the blustery air and the natural elements would be her undoing. With every possible ounce of energy she redirected her thinking on how she made her narrow escape.
She could see the meaning in his stare, and the heat of his lust, as he pinned her to the wall. She knew that she was in no position or condition to fight off the brute strength of a 250 pound, 6' 5" monster linebacker in heat, but she had to try. So she rallied her remaining strength and gave into her need not to be attacked. She lunged, causing both to fall onto the plush pile of the hazelnut carpeting. A dive here and a roll there, had her once again pinned, with her assailant having the upper hand which now contained a gun. Phoebe's vision was fuzzy and her balance disoriented. But the fact a gun was pointing at her chest was not to be missed. She took the opportunity to affect the obvious outcome, by pretending to have gone unconscious. The plan would have worked had Dom been as dumb as he looked, but unfortunately his spurned 'affections' and unrequited urges were the driving force behind his decision making and the fact Mr. Danielson said not to harm her was quickly forgotten as the guns trigger was released.
The searing heat of the leaded ball landed in her chest like a football player with a mission. The pain was overshadowed by the fact that the next bullet had her name on it if she didn't redirect its course. The gunman was taken off guard when she swiped the weapon from his loosened grip. In the time it took him to register what she had just done the hammer was cocked and a warning shot expelled. His fury at being outsmarted by a woman, a woman who was sick and injured no less, made him fight to regain the pride slowly leaving his manhood. He went to tackle the now gun toting Annie Oakley and was rewarded with a slug landing squarely in his upper thigh. Like a cornered animal attempting to recapture the advantage, he stumbled forward grabbing at her ankles, but was rewarded with another hit this time in a region of his solarplexis.
Phoebe's hand was shaking so badly she was surprised she was able to make contact with the ravenous enemy. The sound of heavy footsteps sent both wounded parties into high alert. But as the pinnacle of survival reached its climax, the last bullet entered the chest of Mr. Danielson. Phoebe's heavy breathing was all that was heard, as both men had lost their ability to exhale by the fatal wounds administered by a frightened girl who just wanted to be at home with her sisters.
She couldn't get the words Andy had just told her out of revolving mind loop. A fear every woman has, but one she knew was especially so for Phoebe. She remembered, when as a senior in high school, she had rounded the corner, ready to give her sister hell for being late, when she found Phoebe pinned to the ground with the captain of the football team. Prue just reacted, her power for protection, needed no supernatural boost as she kicked his ass into humiliation. She would never forget the look of terror on her baby sister's face as she went to her side. A look she knew would be forever part of her memory.
Prue felt the hand of her middle sister reach for hers as she saw where Prue's thoughts were heading. Piper was about to say something when Andy's cell phone rang, and all three's attention was diverted to the possible answers the other end might holds.
Argon stared at the two piles of ashes that once held his best soldiers. The information they provided was most valuable but their ineptness was more than he could tolerate. The prize of the witch was too great an accolade to leave in the fumbling hands of the underworld's version of Dumb and Dumber. So with one last glance at the silent cinders he shimmered from the cave.
She lost count of how many times the ground had claimed her balance. The fever would pull her to the murky earth, only to have her effort to rise again thwarted by the crash of a thunderous boom. The glowering moon was now making its way to the heavenly time clock, passing the happy brightness of the sun, as they changed shifts. Phoebe had unwittingly wandered off the two track that she was using as a compass. The underbrush led to a thinning forest, which she took as a best hotel she was going to get this late in the day and on a weekend. She had grabbed a cable knit sweater off the chair before leaving the log cabin, but the blood and rain had turned it into a wet blanket and sadly for Phoebe the only source of warmth she was going to be given as the wind wiped around her balled up frame.
"That was Darryl, seems the RCMP have located the van. Needle in a haystack location, they really know there territory. My hats go off to those..." But Andy was cut off by an impatient Piper.
"Andy you can send flowers and a thank you later... WHAT THE HELL DID THEY SAY?" She said as her voice rang over the shushing tones of Prue's admonitions.
"Seems that a couple of trappers noticed the van pass them as they were out checking their snares. The Mounties only received this information after the bearded nomads, were guaranteed no prosecution. The men followed the trail which led to lodge... it had two dead bodies in the master bedroom and three more just inside the surrounding woods."
"AND?!" Prue's voice was now the one making the crystal rattle, as she needed to know that Phoebe was not among the casualties.
"Darryl tried to find out, but the poor connection was broken but the bad weather that Vancouver is under at the moment. Sorry... but I don't know... I don't know if any of the bodies was Phoebe.
The sound of birds and the gentle breeze stirred the prone woman to open her eyes. They were instantly snapped shut when the pain unmercifully made its presence known. She knew for instinct she needed to keep moving. So she pulled her broken body vertical and headed in the direction south, hoping she was reading the position of the sun correctly.
He leered over the truck driver as the astheme protruded from his neck. With a wave of a hand Argon donned a red and black flannel shirt, a pair of faded jeans that were three sizes too small for the beer gut that grossly hung over the brass belt buckle that read... 'Kenworth'. With an evil grin hiding behind the shaggy beard, he pulled himself in to the cab of the eighteen wheeler and took off in the direction of the highway. The scent of his new spell leading him to her like a lamb to the slaughter.
She exited the wood and found herself in a simple open field... As she reached the other side it then became a reeded bog, a marshland that unknowingly was the natural dividing line between Canada and the US. Closing her eyes she made haste across the murky swamp, not wanting to think about the contents. She nearly passed out from the stench the foamy sloth that was contaminating the air with, but her will to live pulled her to the top of the ravine and to the roadway.
She was exhausted, and nearing hypothermia, so she leaned against the closest thing that stood upright. So there Phoebe stood propped up against the steel poles holding a sign saying "WELCOME TO SPOKANE!"
Her heart quickened with the first ray of hope she felt in days, as in the sky blue distance she saw the monstrous rig heading in her direction.
Piper felt her anger boiling inside as she paced back and forth in the attic. Prue and her had tried everything in the BOS and everything outside of it. They had tried making their own spells but still nothing led them to where Phoebe was. The only thing they had to go on was she was somewhere in Canada and some how involved in a murder. A murder of five people at that.
She ran her hands over her face in despair. She knew Phoebe would have nothing to do with a murder let alone five. But she needed to know what had happened. Not only to Phoebe, but also in general. How had a childs game gone so wrong?
Prue had said her good-byes to Andy and now stood at the threshold of the attic, watching Piper. She closed her eyes a moment knowing that this was mostly her fault. She had egged Phoebe into the game to start with. Now she had to face Piper and find Phoebe to set everything right.
"Piper. Andy's gone. Why don't we try again to try and find her?"
"Prue I can't do this anymore. I have been up here for the last two hours trying to find her. Everything I do nothing seems to work." Piper felt her own feelings of lose entering her. It was a feeling she had been trying to push away but now suddenly it was winning despair and lost hope was all she knew.
"You can Piper. We just need to have faith in our magic and in Andy." Prue stepped beside Piper and pulled her close almost instinctively knowing her younger sister was about to break down, "He will find her Piper, we have to hang on to that. He will."
Argon knew he was close. He could almost taste her he was so close. He pulled the rig to a police barricade and waited, as each one was check. He saw his light as he neared the border. Almost there he knew it. A few more miles and he would cross the borders between the countries to the humans. To him it was silly having borders. Especially between two countries that had been allies for so many years it was inconsequential. He couldn't imagine living under such strict scrutiny when it wasn't necessary. But that was not his worry. He needed and wanted her. He was so close a few more miles he would reach the border crossing and then it was home run straight to her.
He pulled his rigged to the shoulder looking at the lights as the casts their shadows against the trees. He had to find out if she was there without drawing suspicion to himself.
He watched as reporters hurried around everywhere all trying to be the first to break the story of the multiple murders in the backwoods.
He looked around trying to find the most susceptible to talking. Making his way across the mud covered road he approached him.
"Hey. What's going?"
"Just a person known in the black market trade was murdered. Him and who they think was his right hand man."
"Wow. Black market as in women?" his key. He would find out now if she were involved though he could sense her strongly.
"Yeah, but that's it. No women were found anywhere around here as of yet. They are looking at what looks to be a fresh fire on the outskirts of the property but as I said. Still no sign of any women."
He couldn't believe it. How could she not be here? Everything he felt lead him right here. The spell he had written leading him to the magic of the potion. He reached his rig and felt his own anger run a fury of gambits. She was close, he knew that. As he closed his eyes and searched for her.