The Hunt of Five 12
Nobody's P.O.V.
"Climb onto my back, kiddo," Jessie squatted down in front of five-year-old Michele, arching her back to make it easier.
"Where we goin' now?" the younger asked, taking the backs of her shoulder and boosting herself up, nestling her knees around Jessie's ribs and wrapping her arms around her neck.
"We're just going to take a little walk," the seventeen-year-old's words assured the young child, but she was lying.
In truth, the two girls were on the run, much to the Loric the younger didn't know existed. Two years before, Michele's parents abandoned her at an adoption home, leaving her in the care of a dangerous man and a demon-set women that were really in hiding from the law. Jessie noticed that, since she'd seen the woman slapping a child once, and had taken action is helping out the little kids trapped there. After she'd called the law and the police were invading the space, taking kids away and arresting the two adoption 'parents', she couldn't help but notice the little crying three-year-old, soon to be four-year-old, in the corner, hiding best she could from all the chaos and authorities.
Jessie, who was reckless and impulsive at heart, took the child under her wing. However, Michele wasn't the only orphan, and Jessie was on the run ever since she'd been caught stealing food from several places across the U.S. Now they were in Louisiana, in one of the buggy bayous that was supposed to be a shortcut toward their home.
Obviously it wasn't, and their truck was now stuck.
Now the older girl was trekking along the mud, her companion on her back. She was half worried about someone coming along and discovered the red, beat-up truck before she was able to get it free, but she was about as worried about that happening as someone discovering the little hut they were hiding out in. Before their temporary home was in view completely, though, her lack of worry turned into horror.
"Who are they?" Michele asked innocently from her back, watching two men in a dark brown coats come out of their hut, tossing some of their food into the back of a large black van parked beside it.
"I'm not sure," Jessie narrowed her eyes to herself as she slipped the child off of herself, "you stay here, alright? I'm going to take care of it."
"Are you okay?" Michele asked again, eyes shining with worry.
"Wonderful," even as the teenager reassured the youth, she scowled to herself when she turned her back, more at the men than anything else.
"What's the big idea?!" she demanded, flipping open her pocket knife as she marched up to the two, scowling dangerously and darkly, "because I swear if you don't return anything you just stole from my house, I'll-"
She wasn't able to finish before one had slapped her sharply against the face, sending her to the ground with force no human possessed. Wildly, she scrambled, trying to regain her footing in the slippery mud and spit out the blood filling her mouth. The same man grinned, showing a row of sharp teeth, before snatching her neck, cutting off her airway as he lifted her further and further above the ground.
"She is not one of them," the second man mumbled, his own eyes on her bare ankles, which were exposed because of her knee-length tan pants, "what do you propose we do with this….human?"
Blindly, Jessie clawed for the first guy's hand, causing his grip to disappear and for her to hit her feet too hard and fast. Something cracked in her foot as she cried out in the pain, landing on her back and crumpling. Even so, she immediately started scrambling, resting her weight on her good leg/foot and wielding her knife in a fighting position.
"I'll kill every one of you sick bastards, whatever you are," her tone was dark.
"Humans are fools," the first guy simply chuckled, kicking up his foot so suddenly and sharply that she never had a second to dodge it; it connected sharply with her stomach and send her sprawling, the knife flying from her desperate grip, "thinking of themselves so highly, then failing so miserably when they meet their match. It truly is pathetic, isn't it?"
Without a second thought, the second guy stomped down on her chest, causing the air to leave her lungs as her ribs crushed against them. The girl was left there, gasping, as both men calmly walked to their van and drove away, looking almost satisfied. The moment they appeared to be gone, Michele ran over to her friend, tears starting to go down her face already.
"Jessie!" she wailed, "Jessie! They took our stuff….we gotta go catch 'em, Jessie!"
The seventeen year old laid there motionlessly as a response, which surprised the five year old. Jessie was never quiet unless she was scared or maybe asleep, which perplexed the child. She didn't understand how she could be asleep when two men just stole almost all of their belongings and beat her up like that so easily, so she began shaking her.
"C'mon, Jessie! We gotta go!" she urged, but only got a blank stare in response, "Jessie, stop playing! Stop playing with me! It's not funny!"
It took all the nearly lifeless teenager had, but her blank gaze fixated onto Michele. Her mouth was open from gasping, but she couldn't move her jaw. A horrible numbness was spreading for lack of proper oxygen, and her ribs were ripping apart her lungs with every movement.
Slowly, she managed to wrap her fingers around Michele's.
"Jessie?" the little girl whispered, "Jessie, are you sleepy?"
She didn't know it right then, but it was too late. Jessica just laid there, her soul long gone from her body, her eyes endlessly on her partner. It was truly the last thing she saw before her time came, and the last thing she felt.
It was how she wanted to go, but Michele was growing frantic as these things slowly dawned partially in her five-year-old mind. In her immature mind, she realized that her best friend and protector wasn't going to 'wake up', and that she was all alone.
"911, what is your emergency?" a voice crackled to life on the cell phone Jessie had in her pocket after the, (now sobbing,) girl dialed those three numbers, just like she'd been told to do if there was ever big trouble.
"Jessie's not waking up!" she sobbed, "she's not waking up ever again!"
Michele's P. O. V.
I just got done remembering Jessie's death.
Even if I didn't know what it was then, I learned soon from a police lady. After that, I was put in a different adoption home with some nicer people, but I was still really scared. I didn't want to hurt me again, so I ran to the airport and snuck on. That's when I met Emily, and when she said she was going to take care of me, I believed her. She reminded me of Jessie.
But now I'm alone again, and I'm really scared.
I've still got Brandon and his really nice family, but it's not what I want or maybe even need. What I need want is my Jessie, or Emily. They made me feel really, really safe, and like I had a family. My mommy and daddy didn't want me; they told me I was an accident and a screw-up.
I really don't want to be an accident to anyone again.
"Do you know where she might've gone?" Brandon asks me in a nice, gentle-like voice, but I just hiccup sadly.
"Nu-uh," I shake my head, "I don't r-really kn-know her."
He looks surprised and really confused, "What? She told me you two were sisters."
Sisters. That's what Jessie told everybody, and everybody believed her. It got us some money and food sometimes.
"I mean….." I shake my head again, sniffling, "I don't know where she would go. I just…..I just want Emily!"
I let myself start crying super hard all over again, causing him to hold him super tight. He's a nice boy, and he's kind of cute; I hope he will be like Jessie or Emily, even if he can't.
Five's P.O.V.
I've made a few conclusions from my first couple of hours with the other Garde members:
1.) Number Four/John loves the human, Sarah, but Number Six also likes him, even though he doesn't seem to notice.
2.) Number Ten, Ella, is a lot younger than expected.
3.) Six and Number Eight work really well together, and Eight seems like a pretty cool guy.
4.) Number Seven/Marina likes Eight.
5.) Nine is screwed up. Seriously.
I guess I can kind of understand why he might want to flirt with all the other love going around, but how he does it is messed up. He thinks that touching my lower back and 'casually' squeezing my upper thigh will excite me; twice, it's gotten him slapped across the face. The truck we're in only seats five at one time to make it even better, so I ended up having to choose between sitting in either Eight or Nine's lap while the other drove, since Ella was in Marina's lap, Sarah was in John's, and Six refused to sit in anybody else's lap, especially when Nine offered to 'go easy on her'.
Now I'm sitting in Eight's lap while Nine, (once again,) cranks up the music as loud as he possibly can to some kind of rap song, not seeming to mind that Ella was hearing the profanity or 'dirty' subjects.
"SHUT UP ALREADY!" Six finally shouted even louder than the music, suddenly lunging forward and smashing in the panel, cutting off the sound aruptly with a loud smash.
Sarah, Ella, and Marina wince as flops back in her seat, looking truly peeved off at this point. Nine just smirks but keeps his eyes on the road, like it didn't affect him whatsoever. Eight and John just shake their heads, a scowl on John's face as he wraps his arms around Sarah protectively, which doesn't seem to amuse Six. I just turn my face to the window, staring out half longingly. All of my life after Lorien's destruction, I've wanted to find the other Garde members. Now that I have, I'm not sure what to think of them at all, other than the five conclusions I got from first impressions earlier.
A large part of me really wants to like them all, but I'm starting to second guess that as Nine suddenly swerves unessacarily, which I know smacks Adam around in the truck once again. Scowling, I look over at him and punch him in the arm, nowhere near as hard as I could. His smirk grows as he turns his face toward me, looking smug.
"Problem, sweetheart?" he half purrs.
"Yes," I reply bitterly, "your face. Everytime I look at it, I feel like I'm going blind."
"Um...Five...?" Ella's voice comes timidly from the backseat, "some of us go back our names, you know. Like...I go back Ella, and everybody calls Four John. Do you have a name you want to be called by, too?"
Huh. I guess I don't really have one; Jemstone and Summer always just called me Five or whatever random alias we came up with in whatever town we were in. Before I tell her that, though, I think back to Michele. With her huge, innocent eyes and meek, sweet, youthful face, she reminds me a little too much of Michele. Sweet little Michele, who I left behind without an explaination or, at the very least, a goodbye. Guilt yanks at my heart; I know I have to honor her somehow.
"You can call me Emily," I reply finally, thinking back to what Michele called me.
"That's a pretty name," she replies sweetly, making heart crack a little bit with the reminder and from the pure adorableness of it; she's a sweetheart.
"Well, I think I'll call you Five," Nine states smugly from the driver's seat, "it's got a ring to it."
"Whatever you say, Stanley," John comments smartly from the back himself now, and I have to snicker. Maybe I will end up liking them...
Author Note:Sorry for the shortness of Five's P.O.V., but I thought it was about time to reveal who Jessie was and what all happened to Michele. Now, I turn to you, the glorious fans!
What do you think should happen next? I've got some more plot points ready, but I need ideas to help me get there, and to see what you guys would like! :)
Please don't forget the lonely review button...it wants attention, too!