A few days passed, and much to Riley's pleasure, it did so without incident. No nightmares. No hallucinations. No vivid dreams. It seemed to be peaceful through Beacon Hills, but she knew there was no way that feeling would last long. Things were bound to happen, whether or not she was prepared for them were a different story. Her ankle still throbbed, taking the medication Melissa had prescribed her only dulled it momentarily. It was mostly Riley's fault for why it wasn't healing faster, and that mostly had to do with the fact that she didn't take Mrs. McCall's bed-rest statement seriously. Like tonight. Riley was bent at the knees, wrapping a single roll of toilet paper around the base of a tree in the court yard of her high school.
"Why are we doing this again?" Riley asked, not that she minded vandalizing school property that much.
"It's mischief night!" Stiles reminded her, a bottle of silly string clutched firmly in his hands. He sprayed the substance all over the school doors, laughing with excitement. "It also happens to be Coach's birthday. It's a win-win."
"Right," Riley nodded, remembering how Stiles and Scott had spent the day planning elaborate pranks to do to the Econ teacher. She frowned at the white paper in her hands, tossing it into the tree tops as she lazily did her own form of vandilization. "Couldn't we be doing something better for Hallows-eve?" She whined. "Like marathoning scary movies or something?"
"Listen, Riley." Stiles sighed as he spread whip cream over the out door table-tops. "You wanna run with our wolf pack? You gotta learn to keep up."
"Wolf pack, huh?" Riley pursed her lips. "If this is a wolf pack than where is our all-mighty Alpha leader, Scott?"
"He'll be here." Stiles noted, checking his phone as it almost rounded till midnight. He kept the fact that Scott was suppose to be there nearly a half hour ago a secret. He dialed his friends number again as he scooped up his supplies. He and Riley headed for the boys locker room, already knowing what twisted pranks they had planned for Coach's office. "Hey!" Stiles called into the receiver. "Where the hell are ya' man?"
Riley sighed as Stiles put him on speaker phone. "Yeah?" She sided. "If I have to be here vandalizing school property, so do you!"
"Get your ass down here!" Stiles threatened over the phone. "Now!"
"I'm already in bed," Scott whined. "And aren't we getting a little too old for this?"
Stiles scoffed, appalled that his best friend would play the teenager card. "C'mon, Scott! We do this for Coach!"
"I thought we were doing this to Coach?" Riley knitted her brows together as she silly stringed her cross country Coach's door.
"Whatever," Stiles sighed. "Same thing. He lives for this stuff, ya know? We can't break tradition now!" Stiles tossed a second can of silly strong to Riley as hers ran dry.
"But it's the middle of the night." Scott argued. "I'm already all warm in bed!"
"Yeah?" Riley asked from Stiles' side. "Well my foots going to be all warm in your ass if you don't get down here and help us." Her warning came out as stern as it could.
"It's after midnight," Stiles agreed. "Which means it's officially mischief night! You better be down here in five seconds, Scott! And I mean it!" Stiles stuffed a few belongings into his locker for the following school day. "Five. Four. Three. Two." He counted down as he turned back to Riley. "Ah!"
Riley grabbed her chest as a small yelp escaped her own lungs. She stumbled back as Stiles fell into her. Hidden in the shadows of the locker room were two glowing red orbs. Scott stepped from the shadows, his lips pulled into a grin. "One." He finished for his friends.
"I hate you." Riley wheezed, calming her breathing as she shot a spurt of silly string at Scott's face. He ducked, sticking his tongue out at her as he shed his jacket from his shoulders. "Alright," She sighed. "What next?"
"Coach's office." Stiles smiled deviously as he swung his back pack full of prank material. "You ready for the grand finale?" He nudged his friend as they headed up the staircase and into their Econ class. "Coach is going to love this one."
He set his bag down on the table, digging through it as he retrieved a small box wrapped in blue birthday wrapping paper. His hands pulled out a clear plastic baggie as he set it down beside it. "Why nuts and bolts?" Riley asked, inspecting the bag with curious eyes.
"I-I'm not sure." Stiles shrugged, as he pulled a hammer from his side pocket of the backpack. "I just thought it'd be funny?" He sighed then, taking down all of the awards and pictures hanging on the walls as he began extracting the nails holding them up.
While the boys set up their prank to have all of the pictures fall, Riley went to work on her own touch of sarcasm. She pulled a screwdriver from the pack, screwing off the back rest to Coach's swivel chair. He'd never suspect her of this doing, and she smirked deviously at knowing she was sorta liked by the man. She kept to herself as they finished up, still quiet about the riddles her own mind had begun giving her. Her gift taunted her, not differentiating between reality and dreams, and that was still frustratingly vague for Riley. She heard Stiles stand up as a smile laced his lips. He planted firm hands on his hips as he surveyed his prank in full detail.
"Mischief night is my favorite night."
Riley couldn't help the small smile on her lips as she scrambled half a dozen eggs in a frying pan. She'd had an actual night of restful slumber after they'd gotten back from the school around one in the morning. She'd only gotten four and a half hours of sleep, but at least it was something. "Morning, kiddo." John murmured as he poured himself a cup of coffee. "Hows that ankle treating you?" Riley shrugged, adding shredded cheese to the pan as she figured it could have been better. "You know you could have pressed charges on Tate for illegally planting those damn traps, right?"
"I know." Riley noted. "I just didn't feel it was the right thing to do."
John smiled, his eyes creasing at the corners as he patted the top of her head. "You're a good kid." He told her, stealing a piece of bacon from the drying rack. He sat at the kitchen counter, flipping through the news paper as Stiles stumbled in with bed hair. He lazily grabbed the the juice from the fridge, drinking it right from the carton as he ignored Riley's eye roll. "Can you believe this guy?" John suddenly huffed as Riley set a plate out in front of him. "This guy named William Barrow set a bomb off on a bus full of students the other day." His bit into his toast viciously. "Beacon Hills Hospital was the only place that would take the son-of-a-bitch." Riley frowned at her plate, in no rush to eat as John explained the extremities of the incident. "I guess being a murderer isn't the only odd thing about him, though." John sighed.
"Odd?" Stiles rose a shocked pair of eyebrows. "You think murdering is odd? Why don't you try the words psychotic and unacceptable? Pssh-odd." He hissed as he shoved four pieces of bacon into his awaiting mouth.
"What else is there about him?" Riley asked from across the counter.
"He said the only reason he did it was because the children had. . . Glowing eyes." John murmured. "I don't know how he knew, or what he knew. . . But he tried mass murdering a bunch of werewolves."
"Dad, we know a bunch of werewolves!" Stiles said frantically.
"That's why I'm telling you." John assured. "That man has twenty-four hour security guarding him. He has to go in for surgery this morning before we officially take him into custody."
"And the psycho-mass murdering continues." Stiles sighed around a forkful of eggs.
"Oh, Mondays." Riley grumbled.
They pulled into the school parking lot, finding Scott and Isaac perched at his dirt bike. "I've got to hand it to you guys," Isaac appraised the toilet papered trees above. "The school looks pretty shitty."
"Thanks." Riley smirked, nudging him with sarcasm. She looked past him as a set of familiar faces seemed to approach. "You've got to be kididng me?" She groaned.
"You two are back at school?" Scott asked as the twins Ethan and Aiden gathered before them. They shook their heads, expressions soft as they looked to one another.
"We came to talk." Aiden hinted.
"That's kind of a change of pace for you guys." Stiles commented. "Usually you guys are just hurting, maiming and killing." His words were truthful as they sunk into the tension filled air. Riley squared her jaw, her eyes unapologetic as she sided with her friend.
"You need a pack." Ethan reminded, his eyes set on Scott.
"We need an Alpha." Aiden murmured.
Riley caught on to where this conversation was headed as she raised a single finger, waving it back and forth. "Oh, no." She shook her head. "Oh, no. No. No. Absolutely not."
"That's a hilarious idea though!" Stiles chirped beside Riley.
"You came to us for help." Aiden reminded. "We helped."
"You guys beat his face into a bloody pulp!" Riley winced at the memory. "Don't for a second try an make yourselves look like the good guys." She warned.
"Agreed." Stiles nodded. "What you guys did was actually counter-productive in my opinion."
"Why should I say yes?" Scott wondered, looking the twins dead in the eyes. He didn't hold grudges against them for what they did to him, but he knew better than to side with them after everything else they had done.
"We add strength." Ethan summarized. "We'd make you a more powerful Alpha."
"I'm sorry," Riley stepped in, landing a hand on Scott's shoulder. "But this is complete bullshit. You think they can be redeemed after what they did?"
"There's no reason to say no." Aiden growled, his eyes fixated on her.
"I can think of one," Isaac spoke up. "What about the time you guys held down Derek and made him impale Boyd?" He looked to Scott and Riley with angry eyes. "I don't see why we don't just kill them?"
"You wanna try?" Aiden sneered, baring his teeth at the Beta. Ethan nudged his brother, reminding him that his display was in no way helping there chances with Scott.
"Sorry," Scott sighed. "But my friends don't trust you." He strapped on his back pack as he made his way past them. "And neither do I."
Riley smirked at them, ramming her shoulder into Aiden's as she followed her friend. It hurt her more than it did him, but it was the thought that count. Her pace was slow as the boys cut their strides in half to walk with her. Her ankle still wasn't healed, and it wouldn't be for a while. They headed into the school as they made their way to their lockers. Isaac split from them as he silently went in search for Allison. "That was a good decision, Scott." Riley acknowledged.
"A good Alpha decision." Stiles elaborated as he opened up his locker.
Riley smiled to Scott, watching as his eyes were cast forward on something other than them. She turned, following his gaze as she found the petite, black haired girl she'd sheltered from a coyote. "You looking at her?" Riley asked, her voice lush.
"What?" Scott broke from his peeping, his cheeks turning red.
"Oh, dude." Stiles chuckled. "You were totally checking her out."
"No I wasn't." Scott muttered, glaring at his shoes in embarrassment.
"You were totally checking out Kira!" Riley laughed once Scott flailed, trying to silence her before the new girl heard them. "Why don't you ask her out?"
"What?" Scott hinted. "Like right now?"
"Yes, right now!" Stiles encouraged. "I don't think you get it yet, buddy. You're an Alpha. An apex predator. Everyone wants you."
"Yeah," Riley agreed as she pinched his cheek. "You're like the hot girl that every guy wants."
"I'm the hot girl?" Scott furrowed a brow as Isaac approached.
"The hottest girl," Stiles confirmed as he punched his best friends arm playfully.
"I'm the hot girl." Scott agreed.
Her first few periods seemed to pass by in a haze, taking her French test without any real knowledge about what she was reading as she hoped she passed. History came and went as she doodled aimlessly, secretly popping her medication as she sat in the back row of the classroom. Her studies weren't exactly one of the highest priorities for her at the moment, even though they damn well should have. She met up with Stiles at their locker before lunch, listening intently as he complained about his Spanish homework. She tried to pay attention, but all she could focus on was the dull pang of something pulsing inside her gut. She didn't feel well all of a sudden, and she couldn't understand the sudden need to throw up. "You don't look too good, Ry." Stiles pointed out. The back of his hand touched her forehead carefully, pulling it back at the intense warmth. "You're on fire." His hands shot out to steady her as Riley became slightly light-headed.
"I-I don't know why," Riley waved off her sickness. "It just happened all of a sudden."
"Do you just feel sick?" He asked, leaning a bit closer with a pointed look. "Or do you feel sick?" He rose his brow to her, signaling that her symptoms could easily have nothing to do with the flu.
"It's just like. . ." She waved her hands, trying to find the right words. "It's like a rushing feeling?" She pursed her lips, gulping down the hot liquid that seeped up her throat.
"What?" Stiles became stern. "Like something bad is going-Dad?" Stiles suddenly perked as he watched his father trail down the hallway in uniform. Sheriff Stilinski paused by his child, his eyes alert. "Dad, what are you doing here?"
John debated even telling them, wondering if it was worth it to put them in a hype. He looked around them cautiously, stepping closer to ensure no one but the children before him could hear. "We had a serial killer escape his surgery this morning." John stated slowly. "Eye witness put him within close proximity of the school."
"Serial killer?" Riley asked, her eyes narrowing in concern. "Like William Barrow?"
He held up a finger, signaling to her to keep her voice down as his features creased in deep frustration. "The shrapnel bomber?" Stiles hissed. "Spotted nearby?"
"A little closer than nearby." John sighed. Riley's breathing became uneven as she watched the schools secretary and a few FBI Agents passing by. Agent McCall's voice was stern as he demanded a lock down, needing all exits and entrances on close watch.
"John," Riley pulled the cop from his daze. "What's really going on?"
"Look," he sighed. "No one knows how he woke up from anesthesia, but what they found is even more alarming." He wiped a cold hand across his face as he relayed what they'd found. "Barrow had a tumor full of live flies inside of his stomach."
"Flies?" Riley cocked a brow. "I didn't even know that was possible."
"It's not." John stated flatly.
Riley and Stiles found Allison and Lydia giggling quietly at their own lockers, approaching them swiftly as they explained what Stiles father had told them. It was their responsibility to keep their friends in the loop when something like this was happening. "Did you say flies?" Lydia repeated, her eye brows knit together viciously. Her eyes were strained on the tile floors below as she shuffled her weight. "All day I've been hearing this buzzing sound."
"Like the sound of flies?" Allison asked, her expression cautious. If anyone could have a feeling about what was happening at this moment, it had to be the Banshee.
"Exactly like that." Lydia frowned.
"Okay then," Stiles huffed, his voice rising with alarm. "That probably explains why you felt sick earlier, right?" His eyes strained on Riley as she shrugged a timid shoulder. "If he's really here," Stiles pressed. "If he's here than he's here for a reason which means we have to stop him before he does something bad."
"We need to tell Scott." Riley murmured, squaring her jaw as she stood up straighter.
Riley and Stiles made their way through the halls, searching for Scott as his phone kept reaching voice mail. They knew he should be answering, and they couldn't fathom why he wouldn't at a time like this. They maneuvered through each winding hallway, pausing when they heard the familiar voice of a dead-beat FBI Agent. ". . . Pack the squad up." Agent McCall murmured to a passing cop. "Let's get the team out of here." His voice carried to them, ricocheting off the tiled floors as Riley and Stiles looked to each other with deep concern.
"They're leaving." She stated, tugging on her friends hand. "We need to find Scott."
Riley didn't even care about the strain she was putting on her foot as she followed behind Stiles, keeping up with his quick strides. They made it down to the other end of the building before what they were searching for ended up before their very eyes. "Where the hell have you been, man?" Stiles hissed, clapping the back of Scott's shoulder. "The police are leaving." He noted. "Why are they leaving?"
"The police?" Scott rose an unsure brow. "What are you talking about?" Riley rose a brow to his uncertainty, her lips parting with disbelief.
"You haven't heard?" She pressed. "You haven't heard about William Barrow?"
"The shrapnel bomber?" Scott hissed. "Of course I've heard about him! He was in this mornings news paper."
"Yeah," Stiles nodded. "Well the freak show disappeared from his morning surgery with a tumor full of live flies." His features worried. "My dad said he was seen-"
"They aren't leaving are they?" A sudden voice demanded. They turned their heads to see a petite red-head approach them. "He has to be here." Lydia said sternly, her eyes glazing slightly. "That buzzing I've been hearing. . . It's getting louder."
"What-what does that mean?" Scott asked.
"Don't you get these feelings when someones about to die?" Riley asked, and Lydia nodded in return. "If he's close to death than why are we worrying?"
"Because what if he's not the one about to die?" Stiles challenged. "We need to tell my dad. We can't let them all leave when he could still be here."
The fact that they all began ditching their classes in order to save lives was nothing new. It seemed as if they did it all the time now. It was nothing out of the ordinary for them as they put their own lives on hold. That was one of the prices they payed in order to keep everyone they knew and loved safe. "Dad!" Stiles called as he and Riley approached John before he could head for the exit. "Dad, listen!" Stiles begged. "You guys can't leave yet!"
"We've got an eye witness that puts Barrow at the train station." John confirmed, the etches in his forehead deepening with stress. John watched as the other Agents and Deputies headed for the parking lot, itching to follow them but Riley's hand caught his.
"He's still here." Riley confirmed, speaking on behalf of her own gut feeling, as well as Lydia's gift. "He has to be. He hasn't left."
"What makes you so sure, kiddo?" He rose a brow, knowing the deputies were waiting for him. Riley released his hand, biting her lip as Stiles answered for her.
"Because Lydia's sure." He pressed.
"Lydia?" John rose a brow. "What? Did she see him?" He asked, his eyes frantically skimming the school in case they missed something.
"No." Stiles shook his head. "Not actually." John rolled his eyes, turning from them as Stiles pled with him to stop. "She has a feeling, dad."
"A supernatural feeling." Riley clarified.
"Lydia wasn't on the chessboard." John remembered, his eyes landing on the red-head at the other head of the court yard. He sighed at the thought having the normal teenagers that inhabited this town be something other than human.
"She is now." Stiles noted, shyly scratching the back of his neck.
"Kanima?" John squinted, frowning at trying to remember who was who.
"Banshee." She answered honestly. "She can sense when someone's close to death."
"Hm." John nodded, his eyes suddenly narrowing to Stiles. "Can she sense that I'm about to kill you?" He hissed, taking a deep breath to calm his anxiety. A sigh laced his lips, his eyes full of apology as he looked to his son and Riley. "Look, I'm not saying I don't believe," he pledged. "But right now, I'm going with eyewitness over Banshee." John turned, heading for the exit as he peeked over his shoulder. "Were leaving a few deputies here. The school's on lock down until three o'clock. That's the best I've got right now, guys."
"You're leaving us here!" Stiles called to his retreating fathers figure. "That is the worst!" He ran a hand through his hair, eyeing Riley with concern. "This isn't good. This is bad-this is very very bad."
"Calm down." Riley put a reassuring hand on his shoulder once his eyes turned a bit glassy. "We'll get it figured out, Stiles. Breathe." He did so, numbly waiting for the moment his body would stop quivering.
They gathered in a classroom not in use, huddled in a circle as they thought about what they could do to help. Scott's mother had snuck in Barrow's clothes and he, Isaac and the twins were currently using the scent to hopefully find him somewhere in the school's basement. Allison tugged on her jacket, cracking open the classroom window as she looked back to her friends. "If I'm going to find anything about flies coming out of peoples bodies," she sighed. "I think the bestiary is the only thing that can help us." She frowned at them. "It could take me all night to find it since it's in a different language."
They nodded to her, urging her to stay careful as she snuck off campus and back home. "And remember," Lydia called to her best friend. "The Archaic Latin word for flies is 'musca.'" They watched as she slid from the window, darting across the campus court yard as she headed for the parking lot.
"So," Riley stood from her perch on the desk. "Where do we start?"
"I guess we can start looking for him upstairs," Stiles suggested, grabbing his backpack as they snuck from the confines of that classroom and up the stairs to the second floor. They checked the rooms that weren't currently inhabited by students and faculty, knowing it'd be harder for barrow to hide in such plain view. They peeked in janitor closets and such, skimming carefully through each room to ensure there was no evidence of Barrow ever being hidden inside.
They wandered further, heading for the art room as they began to feel as if they were bound to come up empty handed. They checked the paint closet, a sigh on their lips at knowing they hadn't found anything to give them a clue. Riley watched as Lydia paused before a cork board, her eyes fixated on paintings lined up across the wall. She frowned at the drawing of a mushroom cloud, seeing the red and yellow paint swirls signaling a detailed fire. She took a step back, her eyes calculating as she looked to her friends. "Scott and Isaac are in the basement, right?"
"Yeah." Riley nodded. "Along with the twins."
"Our plan is to meet them halfway in the broiler room," Stiles confessed as he sifted through the drawers of the art teachers desk.
"All the wolves," Lydia whispered to herself. Her hands shook as she grasped the idea of what was bound to happen. "All the kids with glowing eyes are in the basement at the broiler room?" She demanded, her voice tainted with concern and fear.
It took Riley a second to understand, her own eyes widening as she remembered a minor detail she'd read in this mornings paper. "Barrow was an electrical engineer." Riley relayed. "He could easily use the broiler room to blow up the entire school if he wanted."
"We have to get them out of there." Lydia hissed, her heels clicking against the tile floors as they headed for the first floor. "We need to get everyone out!"
"How are we suppose to get nine hundred students out of the school at once?" Riley begged the question, paying no attention to the dull throbbing of her foot as she caught up with the other two's quick strides.
Lydia paused, her eyes finding a red lever as she nodded her head at it. "That's one way." She noted, putting her index fingers in her ears as Stiles lunged for the fire alarm.
The screeching echoed off the metal lockers, sounding in Riley's ears as she watched kids and teachers file out of their classrooms. A small sigh of relief laced on her lips at knowing they had done the right thing. She smiled to Lydia, looking back to Stiles as his own lips pulled back over his white teeth in victory. Riley's smile fell short, her eyes widening as a figure sauntered over behind Stiles. It was furious and angry as it found the culprit for the ringing alarms. "Stilinski!" The voice growled, and Riley watched as Coach Finstock reached up to grab the boy by his ear.
He tugged on it, towing the kid out of the hallway and into the courtyard as Riley and Lydia followed behind frantically. "Ow!" Stiles winced. "Ow!"
Coach released him, his upper lip curling at the younger boy as they stood on the sidewalk. "Pulling a fire alarm during mischief night is one thing!" Coach bellowed. "Doing it while there is a mass murderer on the loose is insane!" His hands balled into fists as students began to drift from the buildings. "If I was four years younger, I'd punch you."
"That doesn't even make any sense, Coach." Riley rose a brow to the teacher. He turned to her, scowling as he pointed a finger at her.
"Stay out of it, Haven!" He pressed. "This is an A and B conversation, so C your way out!" He looked back to Stiles who rubbed his ear from the pinching hold Coach had put him in. "Detention!" He growled. "You and me, Stilinski! All this week." Riley stuck her tongue out at the teacher as he stalked past, annoyed with his inability to understand that Stiles may have just saved hundreds of potential lives. And to Stiles, detention was worth it if it meant doing so.
Riley caught sight of Scott and Isaac weaving through students, pointing to them as she, Lydia and Stiles headed their way. "We didn't find anything." Scott sighed sadly. "Not even a scent."
"It's three." Lydia checked her phone. "Schools over." She declared as she watch the kids around her begin to file out of the court yard and home.
"If Barrow was going to set off a bomb," Isaac furrowed a brow. "Wouldn't he have done it already?" He looked to Stiles and Scott with concerned eyes.
"Does that mean everyone's safe?" Riley asked, looking to Lydia to see how she felt. In Riley's own gut she felt a small tether of tension pull at her core, but nothing compared to how she had felt earlier on in the day.
Lydia frowned, taking a deep lungful of air as she sighed. "I don't know." She clarified. She honed in on her gut, feeling a rapid pulse of electricity purge through her veins. "I just. . ." She trailed off, gulping back the fire that reminded her something was lurking. "I don't know."
They parted ways, heading for their own lockers as they collected their belongings to ensure they left for home with everything they needed. Lydia stood beside Riley, silently skimming her fingers over a single grip of hair. She was disappointed in herself for not being able to find anything on the bombers whereabouts. Riley shut her locker door, looking to Stiles with a slight frown etched into her lips as they headed for the exit. "Ms. Haven!" A voice called, and she turned to see her History teacher treading after her.
"I'll meet you at the Jeep." She promised, raising a brow to the approaching man. "What can I do for you, Mr. Yukimara?"
His almond eyes were brilliant, his tie disheveled as he caught up to her, a slight smile on his lips. "I actually wanted to speak with you for a moment."
Riley froze, panic setting in as her eyes widened. "Look," she sighed. "If this is about my research paper I completely bullshit, I'm sorry." She relayed in a rush, biting her lip as she looked to him apologetically. She hadn't finished her paper due to the fact her mind had been playing tricks on her that night.
Mr. Yukimara cocked a brow, looking to her with surprised eyes. "This isn't about your research paper." He promised her, eyeing her skeptically.
"Oh." Riley's frustrated expression changed. "It's not?" Her teacher shook his head, and she felt embarrassed for jumping the gun too soon. "Good." She smiled. "Great. Let's just forget I said anything. . . About that. . ." Her voice trailed off.
"I actually wanted to invite you to my house," he murmured. "Sort of a 'thank you for saving my daughter from being a coyote dinner. . . dinner'." He laughed at his own humor, spending his entire lunch hour thinking up that line. "It's the least I can do for helping her out."
"You could just give me an A in your class," Riley hinted. "And we'll call it even?"
He frowned, a deep sigh on his lips. "I was actually hoping you'd say yes. My daughter, Kira, hasn't really made any friends here quite yet. . . I thought you could change that?"
Riley frowned, knowing she couldn't go tonight, thinking up a lame excuse as she shyly apologized. "I wish I could," she lied. Riley was too old to be set up on play dates, and she didn't think it was appropriate to spend the evening at her teachers house. Even if it was to have dinner with Kira. "I-I actually have to work tonight." Riley lied easily, shuffling from foot to foot. He frowned, nodding his head anyway. He made a move to by-pass her when Riley suddenly spoke up. "I wasn't actually the one that saved her," she spoke honestly. She knew her best friend had a thing for the teachers daughter, and he also happened to be the one who did in fact save them from the raging coyote. Yukimara popped a brow, tilting his head as he urged her to go on. "You should ask Scott McCall." She offered. "He's the one who saved us both."
Riley couldn't find it in herself to stay awake as she lazily sprawled herself across the couch. She could hear Stiles and Lydia rustling in the kitchen, but made no move to get up and enjoy a post school snack. Her eyelids drooped, her ankle throbbed. Her stomach twisted in unusual knots as if a warfare were com-busting within her very own gut. She allowed herself to fall asleep, and that was her own mistake. The ticking sounded in rhythmic ticks. Following a coursed pattern of devastation as the sound grew denser and louder. It embedded itself in Riley's mind, dividing the inability to sufficiently categorize where the sound was coming from. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick. Her eyes searched, covering her ears as the sound became unbearably loud. She couldn't focus. She couldn't find the reasoning behind what the noise was trying to tell her. It clustered faster, raising the pulse in her veins as her heart kept up with the quickening times. Ticktick. Ticktick. Ticktick. Ticktick.
She held her hands tighter over her ears, her breathing becoming harsh as she violently searched for the source of the sound. It only seemed to click faster, and that rushing feeling from earlier seemed to seep back into Riley's skin. She felt dizzy, her eyes making out a hazey object on the floor. Her feet unwillingly pulled her forward, the ticking becoming stronger and faster with each step she took. She peered down at the object, reading the green digitized numbers as it counted down from ten. Her brows furrowed, squinting as the ticking became harsher as the number dwindled down to two. She took a step back with realization, becoming vulnerable in the position she held herself in.
Tickticktick. Tickticktick. Tickticktick. Tickticktiiiiiiiiiiiiick.
"No!"
Riley woke with a start, her chest slick with heated sweat as her eyes roamed the darkened living room. She wiped a cold hand across her clammy forehead, her breathing haggard as she sat up. The sound of approaching footsteps gathered on the staircase as she heard Stiles and Lydia come forward with quick feet. "How long was I out?" Riley breathed, wiping the sweat from her brow.
"A few hours?" Lydia shrugged, her eyes worriedly taking in her friend.
"Get up." Stiles demanded, twirling his keys in his hands. "Were going to the school." He murmured. "Get up. Let's go." He flailed his hands, ushering her to hurry as she slipped into a pair of flats at the front door.
"Why are we going to the school?" Riley asked, still on edge from her latest dream. She squeezed in beside Lydia as she took the middle seat of the console. Stiles revved his engine, his hands eagerly pushing him into gear as he skidded around the corner towards the freeway.
"Barrow had to have been there," Stiles stuttered. His eyes were alert as a rush sparked through him. He continued to look forward as he weaved in and out of traffic carefully. "I think I know why we couldn't find him."
"And what if he wasn't even there?" Lydia suggested. "What if what I was feeling wasn't right?"
"Lydia," Riley yawned, her skin still flushed with heat. "If there's one thing I know, it's that you can't second guess your abilities." She nudged her silently, encouraging her to keep her chin up. "I did that for too long and people ended up dead because of it."
"He was there." Stiles sounded so sure of himself. It wasn't even that Riley and Lydia believed it either, but some hidden agenda inside his mind told him it was the truth.
The fact that it was too easy to break into the school so late at night was ridiculous, but it made sense. Was anyone brave enough to walk the school grounds as a security guard so late at night? She followed blindly behind Stiles as they weaved into the darkness of the hallways. He took the stairs two at a time, his feet eager as he realized what he was searching for. Heading into the Chemistry lab, Riley and Lydia stood back as Stiles made his was to the chemical supply closet. "That should've been locked." Lydia frowned in frustration.
"I know," Stiles sighed as he flipped the back light on his phone over. He flashed it on the racks and racks of bottles. "Notice anything else?"
"It smells like chemicals?" Riley muttered, stating the obvious as Stiles guided his light.
"They wouldn't have been able to catch his scent." He noted. "Not when he used these to cover it up." He bent to his knees, counting the missing bottles with firm eyes. His light flashed on something red beneath his feet, hovering over it as he felt the bile rise in his throat. "He was here." Stiles confirmed. "Barrow was here."
Riley narrowed her eyes, feeling her throat constrict at the sight of blood and stitches littering the floor. "He performed minor surgery on himself." She frowned, happy she hadn't eaten anything, making it easier not to vomit. "But why else would he come here if he didn't set a bomb?"
The word tainted Riley's lips, pausing as her joints seemed to lock. "Bomb." She whispered to herself. "It was a bomb."
"What?" Lydia perked a brow, looking to her with worried eyes.
"I-I had a dream about a bomb." Riley gathered, understanding the signs her mind were giving her. "It didn't make sense at fir-"
"Where is it, Riley?" Stiles hands wrapped around her upper arms, tightening as he rocked her from her daze. "Where was the bomb you saw?"
"I don't," she shook her head. "I don't know." Riley looked to Lydia, her eyes slightly glazed. "You were right," she told her. "You were right about him being here."
"Than why don't I have a good feeling about this?" Lydia asked, shuffling nervously from foot to foot. She gulped harshly, biting her lip with sudden depression.
"Probably because he was here to kill someone." Stiles pressed, pushing past Riley as they headed into the main classroom. "We have to figure out who he was here for, and why." He headed forward, arms flailing. "Search for clues. For anything!"
Riley watched as he and Lydia shuffled from desk to desk, searching inside with wondering hands. She moved forward, heading towards the front of the classroom when her eyes scanned the black board curiously. She paused before it, reading the numbers over and over in her head with deep consideration. "What is that?" Stiles asked as Riley felt Lydia brush up beside her.
"Atomic numbers." She breathed, and Riley looked at her with curious eyes.
"Is it a formula?" Riley asked, wondering why she never paid more attention in Chem.
"Not really." Lydia shrugged, picking up a piece of still chalk. "Nineteen is Potassium. This one," Lydia pointed to, "Is Iodine. Together they make Potassium Iodine." Riley watched as her friend wrote the letter 'K' next to the first atomic number.
"Potassium is 'K'?" Stiles asked, nodding his head at the new found information.
"It's from Kalium." Lydia noted. "The scientific neo-Latin name."
"And Iodine is 'I'." Riley remembered, to which Lydia nodded. She watched as Lydia jotted it down beside the name. K and I. "What's Radium?" Riley asked with a sudden chill. Lydia's slim fingers pulled back, brows furrowed at the three atomic numbers. Potassium was K. Iodine was I. Radium was RA.
"K-I-R-A?" Lydia felt her expression drain from her features.
"Kira." Riley breathed, her skin prickling as it dawned on her. "It's her-Kira! He came to kill Kira!" Her hands began to shake, her mind racing as she pulled out her phone. "We-we have to find her! We have to warn Scott."
"Why Scott?" Lydia wandered as the three of them bound from the stairs and back to the Jeep. "Why do we need to warn Scott?"
"Because he's at Kira's house right now!" Riley expressed, fumbling with the door to the passenger side as they piled in. "He's at dinner at her house!"
It was silent through the car as Stiles sped his way onto the freeway, narrowly missing cars as he weaved in and out of traffic. His hands numb from gripping the steering wheel so tight. They kept to themselves though, all lost within their own thoughts. But each of them shared the same one. Why would Barrow escape his surgery in order to find Kira? Why was he after her? And why did he need her? All these questions ran through Riley's mind, but one in particular kept bothering her. "Stiles?" She asked, looking over Lydia as her eyes met his.
"Hm?"
"How did you know to look inside the chemistry closet?" She asked, her voice soft, not wanting to sound accusing. He frowned silently. He'd wanted to know the answer to that same question himself. He felt drawn there. Almost a small hint of Deja Vu.
"I-I don't know." He answer honestly, shrugging it off as he pulled into Kira's neighborhood. They approached her house, the second one on the block as the Jeep came to a sudden stop. "Is that Scott?" He demanded.
They strained their necks, looking over the dashboard at Scott's dirt bike parked at the curb. Beside the front tire lay a body, motionless and splayed across the pavement. "Scott?" Riley called, her feet landing on the asphalt as she pushed herself forward.
"Scott!" Stiles bent to his knees, his hands cradling his best friends cheeks as he urged him to wake up. "Scott, buddy! You gotta wake up!" He tapped lightly, urging him awake.
"Barrow." Scott wheezed as he sat up. "He took Kira!" It was the last thing he remembered as the girl walked him out to his bike, flirting lightly before someone struck him in the back of the head. He felt a withered ache pang in his ribs, knowing he'd let the mass murderer take off with her.
"We know." Riley sushed him, helping him to his feet. "He's been after her this whole time." She looked frantically to her friends. "We have to do something." She pressed. "He's going to kill her."
"I knew he was there," Lydia's soft spoken voice rang. "How did I know that?"
"Because you heard the flies, right?" Stiles asked, reminding her of her earlier gift.
"What do you hear now?" Riley questioned, her voice frantic. "Can you still hear the flies buzzing?" Her expression fell once Lydia shook her head.
"Nothing." She breathed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I feel like I can do this, but I don't know what to do!" Her hands shot out to her side in exasperation. "It's like it's on the tip of my tongue, and I don't know how to trigger it." A deep sigh weighed heavy in her chest. "Ugh!" She groaned. "It literally makes me want to scream!"
Riley took a hold of her friends shoulders, her eyes steady as she remembered the effect her scream had the night Jennifer planned to kill them. "Lydia," she murmured. "Scream." She took a step back, running into Scott's chest as her friend opened her lips. Lydia collected what air she had in her lungs, purging it out through wide teeth as she emptied out what felt like her soul. It burned her chest, ringing her ears as her cry echoed off dirty gutters and paved streets.
A shaky breath escaped her lips once her scream died down. Everything was silent as she turned her back on them, her ears capturing sounds at such a low frequency as she zoned in on the buzzing that had returned. Her eyes followed the sound, skimming the darkness as they landed on a lone street light above. "It's not flies." Lydia gasped, turning back to face her friends. "It's electricity."
"But that doesn't make sense," Riley shook her head. "Actual flies came out of Barrow's body. . . Why is electricity so important?"
"Because," Scott realized with wide eyes. "Barrow use to be an eletrical engineer."
"He use to work at a power substation." Stiles remembered reading that from the article in the paper. He twirled his keys as he tried to think of which one in particular.
"But what substation?" Lydia asked, her body still shaking from being able to piece together the information they all needed to save this young girl's life.
It was a long-shot picking which plant to go to in Beacon county. But they figured it was a lucky guess as Scott pulled up on his dirt bike besides Stiles' Jeep. Riley hurried out of the car, bending to the waist as she retrieved her newest dagger from her boot. She watched as Scott headed inside, itching to go after him as Stiles fumbled through his back seat. His nimble hands retrieved an aluminum baseball bat, twirling it in his hands before shutting the drivers side door. "Stay here, Lydia." He ordered, beginning to sprint alongside Riley. "Wait for the cops!"
"Why?" She pressed, wanting to help them out in anyway she could.
"I only have one bat." Stiles answered, holding up a hand for her to stay as they sprinted for the entrance.
It was dark inside, completely emerged in blackened vision as Riley tip toed through uncertainty. She couldn't see the outstretched hands before her face, poised and ready in a defensive motion in case someone used the darkness to their advantage. Riley shivered when she felt the warmth from Stiles body leave her side, reaching out for him, hoping he didn't get lost but her fingers came up empty. "Stiles?" Riley called, but the hallway she found herself in was empty, save for herself.
She wandered further in calling out both names of her friends when she heard a delicate cry. Her head whipped at the sound, pushing herself deeper into the dark hall at the sound. Her joints seemed to lock in place as the hall she inhabited seemed to illuminate. She shielded her eyes against the brightness, seeing the electric current flash before her as her vision became hazey. The crackle of the electricity rang in her ears as it died down. She approached the room with staggering caution, peeking in with hopeful eyes. She watched the petite, black haired girl she'd known as Kira, hover above a blackened and burnt body. Her limbs shaking as she cautiously approached the terrified woman. "Kira?" Riley breathed through harsh lips. "What happened?"
She watched the body at her feet twitch, frowning at the realization that it was Barrow who had been electrocuted. The room was still dark, the only light source gathering from the moon hovering above the rafters. Scott pulled himself to his feet, having seen the entire thing happen. He couldn't tell Riley the truth. Not yet. Not when he wasn't even sure of what he saw himself. And so he lied. "Barrow did it to himself."