Chapter 11
Always Trust a Sixth Sense
"Where are we going?" I ask, glancing at the man with suspicion. My sixth sense keeps warning me that something is not right. Well, of course having a kidnapped brother isn't right, but there's something else that makes me uneasy, though I can't put my finger on it, so to speak. I've picked a few things from the others, such as figures of speech, or metaphors. Wait. Why am I trailing off? I peek at the rearview mirror, noticing that green hover car has been following us for quite a while.
Perhaps it's my family, or perhaps my imagination is getting the best of me. I hope the others are following me, yet that could lead to disaster as well. "Those people," the man points behind him, "are your friends, aren't they?"
"I don't know," I respond truthfully, "I came alone, I think."
"You think?" he repeats, cocking his head to one side, only bringing more tension in the air.
"What I'm saying is that I cannot keep anyone from following me. I really was intending to come alone."
"Just shake them off."
I don't know exactly how to 'shake them off', but I do my best, though feeling rather indignant as well as afraid. What if I really do lose them? What if Lloyd and I die alone? I shove those thoughts to the back of my mind and concentrate on the road, turning at unexpected moments, moving as if I'm going to the right, but head to the left, and so forth. I look in the rearview mirror only to be faced with a horrible realization. The vehicle is not in sight, which is both good and bad, and quite alarming.
I keep on driving, possibly for fifteen minutes or so, yet it seems like an eternity, until the man abruptly holds out a hand in front of me, saying, "Stop the car." I do, and he gets out before turning to me with an impatient expression. "Well? We don't have all the time in the world, do we?"
I could use a sarcastic retort, but I'm in enough trouble right now, so it's best not to invite more. "I need you to bring Lloyd out," I tell him, staring directly into his hazel eyes, which meet my blue ones with a harsh look.
"What did you say?" he asks, seeming as if he might flare up at any given moment.
"I said," I repeat, gripping the driver's wheel tightly out of both anger and fear, "I need you to bring Lloyd out."
He chuckles for a moment before responding in a screech. "Like heck I will! You can meet him yourself!" He points to a concrete building about fifty feet away from us and lowers his voice, getting back in the seat until his face is inches away from mine. "Now, there are two ways to settle this," I feel his hot breath trembling with rage as he pulls something out of his jacket pocket, my best friend. Oh great! I love knives!
"The easy way to do this is to get your butt in there and bring Lloyd out," I tell him, merely hoping this man won't play with the blade.
"Okay, Nindroid. I'll bring him out alright," the man responds, putting his weapon away and heading for the building. He enters in soon, and I tap my fingers on the steering wheel nervously, also chewing on my bottom lip. After about ten minutes, Flare (that's what I call him) returns, with a teen in green slumped over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. I feel a sudden urge to leap out of the car and attack the man who harmed my brother, but I control myself, knowing I have a better chance if I stick to my plan.
I reach under my seat, pulling the plastic, powder containers out, and set them behind me; then wait anxiously for the two, yet notice something that will make this difficult. Two more men, dressed in the same fashion, are trailing behind him, each holding a metal rod in his right hand. I open the car door, stuffing the small powders in my jeans pocket, and grab the clay pot I had almost forgotten; the men approach them with rage burning deep within my heart, my human heart that pumps real blood. We stop a few feet away from each other, each eyeing one another. "I brought him, so get your butt in that building," Flare demands.
"You are on no terms to negotiate with me," I respond.
"What's this kid saying?" an African American man laughs before abruptly getting in my face, grabbing my shirt. "I'll get you to comply alright, boy. Now listen carefully because I will only tell you once. There is no way that my brother's and I are going to-" He never finishes his sentence.
I make use of the opportunity and slam the clay pot into his face, shoving him into the other kidnapper that doesn't have the green ninja. Both stumble backwards and Flare casts Lloyd on the ground next to him, throwing a kick at me. I catch his leg with one hand and quickly jab an elbow into his side; then shove him off balance. As he topples over, I pull out the powder containers, and throw them on the grass. Instantly white is everywhere, covering all of us and creating the perfect smokescreen. It's now or never!
I pick Lloyd up somehow, on my back, and quickly bolt to the hover car, shoving him through the passenger side, slamming the door, and getting into my side. As I turn the key in the ignition, I hear an ear-piercing boom and feel searing pain in the back of my left shoulder. Despite the wound from what-I-presume-is a gun, I take off immediately, driving the hover car faster than I have ever dared, due to safety concerns, which the others laugh at me for. This will be the first time I drive like a maniac and most of my family won't be here to see it.
"Zane, what happened? Did you save me?" I glance next to me to see Lloyd sitting up with some difficulty and strapping himself in with the seatbelt. My senses still tell me something is wrong, but I am glad to see my brother safe again.
"Your shoulder," Lloyd points.
At the mention of that I wince, partially from pain and partially because I just realized something. "You never strapped yourself in without bring told. It's nice that you finally learned," I say, glancing at him again, and do a double-take. Were his eyes red? I think I saw them change color for a split second before the last words from Clive echo in my mind.
Remember the red eyes.
I look at Lloyd again, but the fear goes away immediately. It's him. He's my brother even if my sixth sense is going off. I must be getting too suspicious or something because I know it's him.
No P.O.V.
"What's going on?" Lloyd asks, lifting his head off the cold concrete that he's been held captive in for too long. "Where's my family?"
A girl that resembles Victoria comes up to him, getting on one knee, and slaps his face. It stings. "Victoria, why are you doing this?" Lloyd gasps.
"I'm not Victoria, I'm Carmel, and you do not need to speak unless you are spoken to. The inquisitive humans do not last very long."
A/N: So…who do you think the person with red eyes actually is? Thank you and please keep reviewing! :)
Guest: You will realize what is happening…soon.
FireIce: This just means they're going the wrong way.
