The Hunt of Five 21
Author Note: Seriously, I don't understand why you guys read my stuff with there's pure genius like yours...;.;
If you write other fanfiction I haven't read, I'd love too! :D Anything I've read from you guys is all so much better than my stuff, it's just... .*le heart.*
I love you guys for putting up with my stuff... .*le heart, le heart, le heart.*
Michele's P. O. V.
It's not a very good idea, but I'm goin' do it anyway.
I hold Emily's jacket closer around my body. I dunno where she went or how I'm going to find her, but I've definitely got to try. Reaching in front of me, I button it up and climb on the plane. Just like when we first came here, there aren't a lot of people here- there's only five. I sit beside a girl who looks nice- she's smiling really big as she listens to music through her earphones. She smiles at me- she's really pretty- so I smile back and snuggle up. Soon I'll be wherever Emily is, and I can be with her forever and ever.
I can be totally happy.
It's not like I want to leave Brandon and Nick and Liam and their mother and their grandfather, but...but I really miss Emily. She was a lot like Jessie, and Jessie was my bestest friend. 'Sides, Emily didn't leave me when that scary person tried to hurt us really bad. If a scary person tries to hurt, I'm going to stay with her and keep her safe, too.
"What's your name sweetheart?" the really pretty girl asks all of a sudden.
"Michele," I smile back at her all nice.
"That's a pretty name," her smile gets even bigger, "so Michele, do you know a girl named Emily?"
My eyes widen. Maybe she knows where Emily is, and if she does, I can find her even faster and we can be happy again! Grinning really big, I nod and ask, "Do you?"
"As a matter of fact..." she's grinning even bigger than I am, "I do. And come to think of it...I know exactly where she is!" My eyes grow as big as our smiles as I nod really hard, looking at her hopefully. "Tell you what: If you just stay with me no matter what happens, I promise you'll find her and you two can be together."
"YAY!" I gasp, sticking out my pinkie finger, "pinkie promise?"
Doing a sideways smile with one corner of her mouth, she shakes my pinkie with her own.
***Time shift to three days later.***
Eight's P. O. V.
We're frantic at this point. Emily- Number Five- disappeared without a possible trace. My gut feeling that expects something horrible to occur hasn't lessened after we first discovered she was gone, but I'm mentally convinced that this was what my paranoia was predicting. Out of all of us, however, the most shaken up are Adamus, Nine, and Ella. All three of them were concerned for her in different ways; her disappearance is taking its toll. Nine has been a practical hermit in the confines of his room, refusing to come out or even open the door unless room service offers food. Ella has been moping around, looking up hopefully at any knock from the door and seeming to grow more sad when it's not Emily returning. Adamus has been heard from about as much as Nine has, but I don't think he's eaten.
Marina suggested I take him food.
Only for her...I think as I knock on his door. We never truly interact, but our few confrontations haven't been anything to be necessarily proud of from my side.
It takes several moments, but the door eventually cracks open. A pair of wide brown eyes darts up and down briefly before the wood begins to shut in my face, but he's not that quick yet. The toe of my boot wedges the crack in tact, my free heel allowing me to kick it open further. I poke my head inside of the room, offering the food with one hand. His eyes dart up and down questioning before making a decision, accepting the small plate and shrinking away.
"Are you alright?" I ask despite myself.
He's a Mogodorian, but he obviously has feelings too. The remorse twisting on his naturally pale face is evident through the dim lighting cast across his small figure, even as his gaze meets the ground.
"I will be, I suppose," his voice is tight, yet soft and full of pain. Being a Mog traitor, this isn't the first time he's lost someone of significance.
Despite my remorse for his kind, I place a hand on his shoulder. This surprises both of us; his head snaps up to meet my gaze. I slightly shrug, sliding my fingers away and turning my back stiffly. It's alarming enough all the same when his hand briefly touches my midback, pausing- freezing me- in the same spot.
My muscles clench when he speaks, "I want you to trust me."
"It would make things easier..." I respond slowly, "but it's not that easy. I can imagine you'd know that, right?"
His hand disappears, "This is true."
Though somewhat reluctantly, I turn back to meet his gaze directly, "Then what do you plan on doing about it?"
His lower lip folds under his teeth with concern. He's obviously smart and has some traits or leadership, but it's even more obvious he's not the most independent being that ever lived. Judged by his reaction, he's still trying to figure that himself. To be honest, though, I honestly don't know what to do to cut him any slack. Trust is delicate thing; there's no set way to earn it. I might not be as difficult as Nine or Six will be, but it will be no small feat. Now that Five has disappeared as well, he's becoming a prime suspect as to knowing where she went.
If he didn't look so heartbroken right now, I'd confront physically.
"Th...thanks for the f-food," he finally manages. I nod once and pull the door to behind me.
As I make my way down the hallway, I notice that I'm not only one on the upper floor that Nine owns. John looks just as alarmed to see me as he steps out of the room across from the one I was in- Emily's room. I raise my eyebrows at him as his face colors upon seeing me.
"Any reason why you were in there?" I inquire casually.
"Um..." he stutters out lamely, "I was looking for any hints at why she left."
I cock up my eyebrows, "Did you have luck?"
He shakes his head sheepishly. I wouldn't exactly call him a player, but the poor guy is a hard time figuring out who he's in love with. I'm not exactly sure when feelings started developing for Emily, but it can only mean trouble. He's a great guy, but even if she was here, she wouldn't go for him or anyone. Sarah is in utter love and Six seems indifferent for her relations to him; it's a messy love triangle/square.
"Well, good luck," I state simply, heading to the 100th floor.
I find Six sitting cross-legged on the couch, slipping a card from a stack as Marina smiles a bit. Both of them have been trying to keep their mind off of Emily the past couple of days, which is understandable but ultimately inevitable. Ella's sitting beside Marina, but her face is so sad as Six asks if they have any fives that I can hardly take it. Frowning deeply myself, I make my way over and get in on my knees behind my crush and my little sister figure and wrap my arms around both of them. This surprising my (hopefully) future girlfriend, as her head snaps back and her eyes widen. I smirk good naturedly.
"Is Nine rubbing off on you or something?" she teases lightly, causing me to chuckle very briefly.
Ella has the faintest ghost of a smile on her face as she wriggles free slowly. Six rolls her eyes a bit, flopping her cards across the tables and moving them around with her hands.
"Anything round?" she offers with a sigh.
I merely shrug, watching as Ella heads upstairs herself, probably to see Nine. Once she's out of earshot, I lower my voice, "Any luck tracking her?"
Six shakes her head grimly, "She won't open her Chest up. She probably left it here to avoid being tracked."
I sigh sadly, reluctantly sliding a few cards toward me, "Fine then...anything round."
Emily either doesn't know how essential she'll be or doesn't care; that's my best guess to why she disappeared like that. She's got so much potential despite her trust issues with the rest of us Garde, but based on what's happened in the past three days she's been M.I.A., she doesn't act like she's planning on returning anytime soon. It was selfish of her, but I can't help but feel I was neglectful as well to not making her feel her value or convince her that she had to stay for us to be able to win.
At the rate this is going, though, it'll be too late by the time she comes around again.
Five's P. O. V.
Shivers are sent through my being as I gaze up at the enormous planes taking off and coming in just outside the even more large window that makes up the window that overlooks the runways.
Ever since I left the other Garde a few days again I made the decision to find Michele. She may have been only seven, but she deserves as much of a right to know why I did what I did to her. The Garde do as well, but the time isn't right. I've kept my little charge waiting long enough and I know that very well. I'm heading to Antarctica with no intentions of looking back, hesitating, or regretting.
I know I'll do all three, though.
"I'm at a payphone, tryin to call home, all my change I spent on you..."
I become aware of that being the song that's playing in my ears as my eyes snap open. The other passengers didn't feel it, as proven by their angry business calls and furious typing as the flight grows closer to whatever important city we're heading to, but the tremor definitely just vibrating the plane. I sit up straighter, looking around with narrowed eyes.
"Where have the times gone? Baby, it's all wrong. Where are the plans we made for two?"
Another tremor vibrates the floor of the airplane. Now I'm on the edge of my seat, knuckles beginning to drain of color as I grip the armrests. The older woman beside me casts me a quizzical glance briefly before going back to her wine; I can't help but scowl slightly.
These humans' oblivion is what's going to end up getting them all killed, I roll my eyes as think this, if I can save them, though...
A more powerful tremor shifts beneath us, which finally gains a few more to pay attention. Despite the flight attendent's death glare, I rise and make my way into the aisle, heading for the emergency exit. I can feel that something about to go wrong, and I know I have to keep this plane in the air when it does or all of these people will die. I'm barely halfway there when a brief, mild tremor turns to violent jerk to the right. I immediately lose balance and nearly topple over straight over the lap of a business man who looks pissed enough already; luckily I manage to catch myself on the window beside his head. The plane lefts just as sharply to the left, tipping me back and eliciting several screams from the now petrified passengers. This time I grab one of the seats, steadying myself as best I can while the entire plane is tipping almost completely on the left side.
The flight attendant is too busy shrieking on the verge of tears to stop me as I tear toward the front of the plane. Now we're being rocked back and forth, nudging to the right side before flipping almost completely upside down briefly. A few babies shriek in octaves I didn't know went they high, (just like their parents,) as I finally snag the door handle that leads into the cockpit and find it locked. Someone clutches my waist with shaking fingers- an old lady. Heartbreaking tears of terror stream down her face with fear in her eyes; I practically have no choice but to throw myself over her as the door flies open.
Three men who are more tall and pale than any human storm out, and judging by the stomping of boots behind theirs, they brought friends. They stalk in the aisle, their beady eyes looking around critically. One of them barks out something in Mogodorian- I kind barely make it out from the brief lessons Jem used to give Summer and I are there language. Something about 'Where' and 'Five' and 'Kill'.
Those aren't good words in my book.
I slip my fingers into my back pocket slowly to avoid attention, bringing out my 'forbidden' pocket knife. My Chest is in the floorboard where I was sitting, (I snuck into the Hancock Center to retrieve it at midnight the night I left,) and if I can get to hit I can probably save these humans. The woman is now clutching my wrist, but I really have no choice but to slowly peel her fingers off and to begin making my way into the aisle.
This gains attention instantly.
"Kill!" one of them rasps.
The one closest to me obviously slashes first with the unmistakable blade of a Mog blade, but I've got anticipation skills; I dodge, ducking easily and even managing to kick it out of his grip. As his weapon goes flying, I make a mad bolt to my seat, leaping to stand in my chair and banging on the compartment door for my all. It's not enough, however, and I'm suddenly slung backwards from a fierce grab around my waist. I cry out as my back collides hard with the plane, only jeering it further and petrifying the young couple I was tossed carelessly and painfully beside. Grunting in agony, I stumble right back up, now more pissed than determined.
This is for the Garde.
Two lunge out at the same time, but a roundhouse kick knocks them both solidly in their jaws. While they're dazed, I use those precious seconds to kick one backwards, grabbing the others neck when the momentum pushes me forward. In a quick jerk, his neck is snapped and I'm ready for the next attack. The once weaponless Mog slices at me, creating a new slice just under my ribs that bleeds heavily on impact. Moaning at the sting it brings, I reach to snatch the sword again, but he stomps down on my foot before I can. My scream cuts through the air as the first Mog bends back both my arms, yanking me backwards and suspending me agonizingly over the floor. From my breaking position, all I can see are their ugly faces...and all the glass lights above that are now flickering.
This is for Jemstone and for Summer.
Squinting, I concentrate on the glass and the fading light...then shut my eyes when cracking fills the air. Moments later, shards of glass come raining down; the humans wail and scramble. I barely have time to feel regret as I jerk free of the stunned Mogodorians, snatching the weapon and spinning a full, unsteady circles that ends with their dissolving ashes. Boots clomp rapidly behind me, but I'm ready now...at least as much as I'll ever be.
This is for Lorien.
Now armed, I charge for them head on on impulse. I'm hacking and slashing, as Nine would put it- it's empowering. Once a steady pile of ash has coating my clothes, it occurs to be the plane had to be hijacked; I have to take out the pilots. Spitting out the horrible ashtray taste of Mog remains, I stumble back to the compartments, hand at my injured, heavily bleeding side. I have to be fast or I'll bleed out; I jab the sword into the compartment door and yank it free. Grabbing my Chest, I yank it open and take out my num-chucks; I haven't used them in ages, but I suppose I never had a pressing reason too.
Pretty skillfully, (if I do say so myself,) I take off into the cockpit. Sure enough, three ugly heads are behind three aimed blasters; I freeze. A forth one struggles to speak in human and manages finally, "Plane...goes down if you...m-move."
I glare but keep my muscles tense. I suppose they never learn...
Moments later, the lights above them shatter and plunge us into darkness other than the dim outside light. Before they can react again, I've decapitated one and racing up to a second. He claws at my face and manages some nasty cheek scratches, but not with the cost of his own life. The third one has a bit more sense and has started firing, burning firey holes into the sides and revealing the anxious, petrified, and partially injured people in the main compartment.
Rage burns anew instead of me at the reminder of who else I'm saving here.
This is for the humans.
I bent forward and headbutt the third Mog, but this leaves me stumbling back with a killer headpain. He smirks, aiming the blaster my forehead but reacting slowly enough for to snatch the barrel and squeeze as hard as I can. It breaks and allows me to punch him in the face before gutting him like a fish. The forth is my only issue...but he's disappeared. Now there's a girl who look only a little younger than myself sitting there...and she's holding a familiar girl by the hair with the trenchcoat on the floor that was obviously covering her up before.
"Michele!" I gasp out.
"Em-Emily..." she whimpers, looking even more horrified/confused/petrified as a blaster is jammed into her small forehead.
"Let me make a deal with you, Number Five," the girl smirks evilly, her eyes as hollow as all Mogodorians' always posses, "you give up now and allow yourself to die, your little friend here lives."
I've seen a situation like this too many times from Hollywood; betrayal is the most obvious factor. It's an inevitable choice and I know it, however, and so does she. Her smirks widens as she rests one hand casually on the trigger that could burn a hole through Michele. Sweet, innocent, young Michele who deserves so much more than what she's getting right now. I attempt to swallow the lump in my throat as I meet gazes with my former/suddenly current charge. She looks so helpless and pleading...my eyes widen with moisture and occurrence.
"Go on," I whisper, "shoot."
Now the girl's gaze widens as she sneers weakly, "I thought you were better than that, Loric."
But she doesn't pull the trigger.