A/N: Ooh, new reviewer!

Dragon, thank you so much. I'm glad you find it suspenseful! :D

Duckie, I will happily drive you crazy! Unpredictable is my goal, so. Yea. (PS, Hugh wasn't intentional. He just took a hold of me and wouldn't let go...)

CHAPTER 14: HUNT

Casey dared do what any sane person would veto: he looked at the motorcycle's side-view mirror. Its glass vibrated, disjointing April's reflection, but Casey needn't see the driver's face to understand her distress. Her body tensed against his, and the man wished he could ease her worries.

On the other hand, he also desired his motorcycle's safety.

"Was this detour necessary?" he yelled through their helmets' Bluetooth connection. "We could'a made good time on the highway!"

"Too many cops," April said, flat.

"There're oddah roads." Casey cringed when the bike hit a deep rut. "Avoidin' cops don't mean ya gotta plow through the damn forest."

"Shut up, Casey!" The bike's throttled revved. "You're ruining my concentration."

"I wouldn't be ruinin' anything if ya rode where ya're supposed ta."

April snorted inside her helmet. "Thought you were all about risk, Jones." Her voice was more mocking than joking, yet also strained.

'She's too emotional.' Casey thought. 'I knew I should'a taken away the keys before we left the Farmhouse. Too late now, I guess. But my bike can't handle this.'

"What will ya do if we get a flat, huh?" the man asked. "Look around, Babe. I'm good, but I can't make a new tire out 'a twigs 'n mud." Beneath his encircled arms, Casey felt April stiffen further.

She turned, asking, "You don't carry a spare?"

"Hey, eyes on the road—the trail! An' no. Spares take up too much room. I only take one if I plan a long trip."

The woman trembled with a scoff as she turned her attention forward again. "Typical Casey, not thinking ahead."

She grumbled something while weaving between several bushes that the bicycle trail would've rounded. Between the crackling signal and blood pulsing in his ears, Casey couldn't hear her words.

"April, listen," he said. "I know ya wanna get ta New York pronto, but that won't happen if ya drive us off a fuckin' cliff!"

"I won't—"

"Ya've lost traction five times already! An' don't deny it 'cuz I know the feelin' 'a my own damn bike!" Casey had exercised sensitivity ever since their phone call with Donatello. No longer. "It rained recently, it's pitch black, an' ya're goin' sixty-five down a mountain trail!" Casey tightened his grip around his girlfriend, a gesture he could only pray came as a comfort. "Come on. Ain't ya supposed ta be the rational one?"

April eased, leaving her more pliable in her boyfriend's embrace. "I know," she said, almost too soft for the Bluetooth connection to pick up. "It's just, Splinter and Nia—I don't…None of this makes sense."

At her sigh, Casey clanked his helmet against hers. "It'll be a'right. The guys got it handled. They always do. Now, can we please find a real road?"

Donatello's fingers clanked against his desktop keyboard. On a wide computer monitor set at eye-level, he scanned a 3-D map of New York City.

'I wish Leo hadn't made me stay,' he thought. 'It's feels wrong. Though I guess this is best. Casey makes up for my position. Besides, Leo was right: Splinter shouldn't be left alone. At least April and I can rotate shifts…'

"Raph, were there any trails out east?" Don asked over his headset.

"No," Raphael answered, voice heated. "Not one. Casey?"

Casey sighed over the phone—a self-explanatory action.

"Alright, Leo?" added Don. "How about north?"

"Nothing yet, Don," Leonardo answered.

"Okay. Mikey? Find anything?"

"No." Michelangelo sounded rushed and breathless. "I've been from Washington Square to Chinatown. There's nada. Guys"—the youngest brother panted—"we only have a few more hours before sunrise."

"Relax, Mikey. Panicking won't help."

"I know, Leo. But…we can't let those men find her."

The Jonin hesitated before replying. "We won't. Don, where should we head next?"

A few keystrokes later, Don highlighted the blocks that'd been searched in red. The coverage was notable and the dots that represented his family's positions blinked too far away from one another.

"Okay"—Don inhaled—"you've already been through Ninety-Second and Lexington. Raph, tracking shows you're on the corner of Eighty-Eighth and Park Avenue."

"What of it?"

"Nia's old apartment is three blocks from there, on Eighty-Fifth and Madison."

"Think she went back, even though the place is gutted?"

"It wouldn't hurt to check. Residents have been evacuated since the building is scheduled for renovation. It may be closed off, but Nia might return because of that. She's still mourning her parents. Maybe she thinks she can find comfort in the place where they died."

Raphael scoffed, crackling the phone line. "There ain't any comfort wit' the dead. Just nightmares."

"Raph?"

"I'll check it out."

"Wait, Raph," Leo interjected, "you shouldn't go alone."

Raph growled. "I can take care 'a myself, oh Fearless Leader. If ya wanna join me, I'll be at the apartment." Raph's line went dead before Leo could respond, which elicited a curse from the leader.

"I'm going after him." With that said, Leo's line went dead as well.

"Alrighty." Don pursed his lips. "Well, call me in another half hour unless something changes."

"Rodger, Don." There went Mikey.

"Gotcha." There went Casey.

Now, the tech genius was left to his own devices. He sighed, eyes roaming the red and green map. "Where are you?"

Cold air nipped at Nia's exposed skin as she dashed from the subway station. Eyes wide and breath ragged, she never once apologized to the irritated bystanders she bulldozed through. She just ran until her burning body collapsed in an alley far from the main road.

'What's going on?' she thought, sucking in shaky breaths. 'On the train, was that really…? It felt like before, but…I—it can't be. It was too much energy. It must've been a malfunction, a coincidence. Things like that aren't possible.'

Then again, not a week ago, the thought of mutants existing never would've crossed her mind. Now, she lives with five. Or used to. Who was she to deem what was possible or not?

"This is too much." Nia groaned. "What's happening to me?"

"Well, she certainly looks like the chica Hun described. But I can't tell from this distance—what with the poor lighting and all. Why don't we get a closer look, eh, Cabrón?"

A pit formed in Nia's stomach when a Mexican voice caught her attention. She raised her head towards a trio blocking the alley entrance. They neared in calm strides, and the young woman scrambled for safety. Her trembling legs buckled multiple times as the brown-skinned figure in the middle whooped.

"Qué pasa?" he asked, his long nose scrunched. "You're fast for a chica with such a fat ass."

Nia scooted backwards along the alley floor until her back met a trashcan. "Wh—who are you?"

"That's information for later. For now, we'll be asking questions."

A man stepped out from behind the Mexican, his ebony features stoic yet almost regretful. "Is your name Nia Anders?"

"H—how do you…?" Nia swallowed thickly. "Who are you?"

The Mexican chuckled. "I take that as a yes." Now at Nia's side, he kneeled, grinning as she knocked over the trashcan in a vain attempt to avoid him. "We have business with you."

Before Nia could protest, the man pulled her off the ground with harsh hands. She winced at the ache in her bicep, gasping, and by the time she found proper footing again, she had been dragged across the barren street. From screaming to crying to knocking over trashcans, Nia made as much noise as possible through back alley after back alley. Yet no one seemed to hear her, let alone act. She was on her own and could do little more than revert to old habits.

"Grevy's Zebra. Daisy. Self Portrait with Camouflage. Dollar Sign. Moon Explorer Robot. Hamburger. Campbell's Soup. El—"

"Will you shut up?" Mexican man snarled at Nia. "Maldita, what are you babbling about anyway?"

Nia's breath hitched under the glare she received. Her lip quivered and she stomped her sneaker against her kidnapper's foot. To her dismay, his grip grew stronger.

"Steal toe boots," he said. "Perhaps if you were a full-grown man you could'a pinched me. Not with that pitiful strength. If you want, I can carry you instead."

"No! I—" Nia blinked her watery eyes. "P—please, let me go."

"If I had a quarter for every time I've heard that—"

"Stop dicking around, Rojo," the dark-skin man spat. "Our job is to deliver her to HQ. Then Hun can finish the deal. The sooner we do that, the better."

"Why do ya always have such a stick up your ass, Bones?"

"I don't. Just knock her out; she'll be less trouble."

"And less fun."

"We aren't doing this for fun."

"Right, I forgot. We're doing this for some pendejo named 'Der Grobmann'." He scoffed. "Seriously, what guy dishes out several grand to find a kid?"

"W—wait, someone paid you to kidnap me?" Bones and Rojo faced Nia, who'd ceased struggling. "Who's Der Grobmann? I—is he blonde?"

Bones sighed. "That's none of your business."

"What are you talking about? It is! Th—th—that's who you're taking me to, right?"

"Y—yes, once we clear you th—through Hun."

"Scales," Rojo shoved a scraggly-haired teen, "don't answer, Baboso!"

"So—sorry," Scales cried, flinching.

"And you." The Mexican returned his attention to Nia. "I told you we'd be the ones asking questions. Now move your fat ass."

"But—but—"

"Now!"

"Please, I need to know why!"

"For the last time—gah!"

Rojo's sentence was cut short by an unseen force. It loosened the grip around Nia's arm and she fumbled for the cause. Nothing. The alley was empty, until a blur dashed by her peripheral vision. Nia whipped around too quickly for her neck to handle, but the adrenalin pumping through her veins masked the pain.

'Could it be?'

"Pero qué mierda!" Breath regained, Rojo stood taller than before. "I dare you to hit me like that again!"

"Maybe your offer would be more tempting if you were a real challenge." The new voice seeped from every crevice in the alley, chilling and deep. One thing was certain: it didn't belong to any of the Hamato brothers like Nia had hoped.

Rojo growled. "Leave the shadows and fight like a man!"

"We don't have time for this," Bones added, groaning.

The voice scoffed, but said no more.

The next attack descended swifter than a hunting falcon. It laid the kidnappers flat on their backs, breathless against the alley floor. A shadowed figure stood over them with a trash can lid in one hand, and without pausing, hit each man across the face until they no longer moved.

"Worthless Dragons," the figure hissed. It paused then regarded Nia. "You okay?"

Words froze in Nia's throat as she shied away.

"Don't be stupid," the figure spat. The aluminum lid clanked against the paved ground. "If I were going to hurt you, why would I stop these idiots?" It jabbed a thumb over its shoulder towards the knocked out trio.

Logical. Still, Nia couldn't allow itself to be blinded by gratitude. She searched the figure for additional weapons, but only uncovered that her rescuer was a voluptuous woman dressed in tattered clothes. Strange. Nia had thought for sure a male teen spoke to her.

"W—who are you?" Nia whispered.

"Nobody," her savior answered, bland. "Now hurry up before—"

"T—the girl must meet Hun!" Scales cried. "I—I can't let you leave!"

The woman scoffed, twisting. She kept composed under Scales' wild expression, despite what he griped in his unsteady hands.

"H—h—he has a gun?" Nia squeaked. Her gaze locked on the handgun Scales aimed at them. "He's not—he wouldn't…"

"He would. He's a Purple Dragon." Pausing, the savior shook her head as if realizing something. "You've never met a PD before, have you?"

Bang! A boom pierced the night—a stomach-churning sound. There was a scream, a gasp, and tears fell from Nia's eyes as an acidic pain tore through her.

A/N: A cliff. Because I love ya'll. By the way, Nia's babbling about Andy Warhol paintings.