Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns all the basics.
Rated M for several reasons.
Part One
Chapter 24 Om Nom Nom
BPOV
After some debate we decided to go down first, hoping we'd find the boys, or a light source, anything really, that would make it easier to go back and look for the others.
"I don't suppose." Rosalie muses. "That you noticed a square hole in the roof of the cavern?"
"No, sorry." Wouldn't that be lovely? An elevator ride straight back to Edward's side.
"Me neither." She huffs lapsing back into silence.
I'm starting to wonder if we're on a one way trip to nowhere when light begins to seep through the boards and then suddenly spills over them as we clear the concrete walls.
Rosalie and I stand together, twisting carefully as we review our new surroundings.
This is definitely a warehouse. Rows of racking lead away from us, stacked with boxes, crates and inexplicable hunks of machinery. All illuminated by the same kind of yellow lights from the chemical plants. Behind us is only blank wall.
The platform comes to an abrupt stop and I'd have fallen if Rosalie hadn't grabbed me.
"This seems to be as far down as it goes." She decides, stepping off onto the concrete floor.
I hesitate for a moment and then follow her as she moves over to inspect one of the crates.
"What now?" I ask after she's fruitlessly inspected several crates and what looks like the worlds' first ever air conditioning unit.
For a moment she hesitates looking as unsure as I am and then her expression clears.
"Let's stick to the plan, have a quick look round for a cache, an exit, and anything we can use. If we find something we can head back up, if not we should look for the boys."
I nod and we set off although it's going to take us ages to check this place out properly.
The racking is spaced well apart and there appear to be several rows leading away from us, intersected at points by wide gangways. As we hurry forward it becomes obvious that the row we're on ends at a wall but we carry on, glancing at the shelving as we pass, eventually reaching the wall slightly winded.
Nothing but wall and the ends of more rows of racking to the left but to the right a double door is wedged open and bright light is flooding in. Much slower now we creep toward it, staying close to the wall with Rosalie's hand wrapped in the back of my sweater . . . .
"Shit." She hisses, pulling me to a stop. "You're fucking bleeding!"
"Um?" I look down, aware that my side is still stinging from whatever caught it earlier but noticing for the first time that my clothing is soaked in blood. "Oh. Ew . . . . ah . . . ."
"Jesus Bella, sit down for a minute." She orders, helping me slide down the wall to the floor.
I close my eyes fighting back waves of nausea, furious with myself. I was okay in the arena, shit I even treated bleeding people, why the fuck am I so pathetic and woozy again now?
"It looks like you've lost a lot . . . ." Rosalie's voice sounds really far away but I can feel her plucking at my sweater and a whimper escapes me as she peels it away from my side.
"It looks clean." She offers quietly. "But, it's quite, um, deep."
"There are some bandages in my pack." I grind out through gritted teeth, moving as her hands urge me this way and that so she can get to it.
It really hurts now. Probably because I'm focussing on it. But I was up and walking around so it can't be that bad, surely?
Silently and carefully she dabs at my side with what I'm assuming, my eyes are still closed, is antiseptic. It hurts. Then she gently presses something over it and moves me about so she can bandage around my middle to keep it in place.
"Done." She says as she pulls my clothing back in place. "You can open your eyes now."
I whimper again.
"Bella." She commands. "Open your eyes!"
I obey.
"Don't look down." She adds and I nod, concentrating on my breathing as she shoves a couple of painkillers at me.
When I've swallowed them she moves to stand up but I grab her wrist.
"Thank you, Rosalie."
"You're welcome." She says, shaking my hand off her. "And for fuck's sake call me Rose."
"Okay." I hum as she offers me her hand and hauls me to my feet.
She watches, her brow furrowed, as I wince and shrug into my pack and then when I nod she takes the lead and we start forward again to the doors. Reaching them she peers out and I wait behind her.
"It's a stairwell and it's lit." She murmurs. "It goes up and down."
"Down to the boys?" I ask hopefully.
"Maybe." She shrugs. "We should at least look. They could do with the iron supplements . . . . shit!"
"No, it's okay, they're in my pack." I assure her.
"So we'll go down and then launch a search party for the others?" She queries, turning to look at me.
"Yes." I agree, crossing my fingers. "If they're down there."
"If not we'll come back." She promises me, waiting for my nod before she turns her attention back through the doors. "Wait here a sec . . . ."
I angle my body around the door to watch her as she walks out, her head almost rotating like an owls before she focuses her attention down and over the railing . . . .
Unwilling to be split up I start toward her but suddenly two hands grab me, lifting me off my feet and cutting off my air supply so I can't scream. A black clad figures looms into my line of sight seemingly from nowhere, kicking one door shut, and then the other before Rose can do anything but turn and yell. A bag is forced over my head and I'm dragged further backwards, kicking and screaming until someone scoops up my flailing feet, holding them still and me suspended . . . .
RPOV
"BELLA!" I yell, hammering the doors with my fists. "BELLA! You fucking assholes! Give me back my friend! BELLA! BELLA!"
Fuck! Shit! Fuck!
"BELLA!"
Oh my god. Oh my god. Fucking alone again!
"BELLA! BELLA! ALICE! ANY FUCKING ONE?"
Gasping for breath I continue to pummel the unyielding doors.
"Rosalie?"
What?
I stop what I'm doing and rush back to the railing.
"Rosalie? Is that you? It's Jasper."
"Jasper?"
"Rosalie!"
"I'll come up!"
"I'm coming down!"
I hit him like a wrecking ball, knocking us both down, fortunately on a landing.
And then I try to hug the fucking life out of him, sobbing into his shoulder.
"Quick!" I command, remembering. "They took Bella!"
Without comment he follows me as I scramble to my feet, charging the stairs and doors. But his flying kick is far more effective than my fists and I fall forward losing my balance, then have to scramble to my feet as he surges ahead of me. Jesus he can really motor as he sprints up the aisle, clearly after something, I follow as fast as I can but he's already bent double and breathing heavily at the hoist by the time I catch him up.
I can see the mechanics of it now, like a scissor lift, and realisation dawns.
"They got away." I observe.
"Yep."
"Come on then, up the stairs! After them!"
"They don't go anywhere Rosalie." He informs me, straightening. "They're blocked with rubble a couple of floors up."
"Fuck!"
Casting around I spot the console mounted controls for the hoist but no matter what I press nothing happens.
"Fuck!" I snarl again, whirling away and digging my hands into my matted hair . . . .
"What happened Rosalie?" Jasper asks quietly, placing his hand on my forearm. "Where are the others?"
Where to start, where to fucking start?
BPOV
Screaming does me no good as I'm carried at speed across the warehouse floor, large hands painfully gripping my shoulders, others corralling my feet.
I can hear yelling, even my name, until I'm thrown carelessly onto the planks and the electrical hum starts up.
Free from restraint I start wriggling and screaming again until a solid booted foot connects with my temple and I see mind numbing stars . . . .
RPOV
I have never been so fucking glad, or afraid, to see anyone in my entire life!
Em crushes me into a hug as Edward and Jasper politely if impatiently wait for explanations.
"Babe." Em murmurs, pressing kisses into my scalp.
"You're okay?" I ask his chest.
"I'm okay." He confirms.
"We found some iron supplements." I remember, pulling away to look at Edward.
"Fantastic! That's just what Em needs." He sings, holding out his hand.
"Fuck." I groan. "Bella had them!"
Three sets of eyes frown back at me. Worry alight in all.
Escaping Em's clutches for a moment I sink to my knees and start recounting . . . .
BPOV
I feel like I might be trapped in my muddled head forever. Being lugged around like a dead body. Up, down. Moving fast, moving slow. Until eventually I'm set down and tied to a chair.
There's some movement and a whispered conversation I can't follow and then my hood, bag, whatever, is abruptly yanked off leaving me blinking in the dim light.
"Bella!" Someone gasps beside me and I turn my head to find Zaf tied to a chair a few feet away from mine.
"Zafrina?" I gasp, using the sight of her to drag myself back to full consciousness.
"Welcome Isabella Marie." An accented voice intones.
My eyebrow shoots up and Zaf cringes.
Oh shit . . . .
"I am Laurent." The voice continues. "A Michelin starred Chef. You may have heard of me?"
I keep quiet trying to decipher the dread in Zaf's eyes.
"I have fabulous restaurants in Paris and New York and I am famous throughout the world for my innovative dishes!"
Zaf's hand, the one nearest me, bucks urgently against her restraints and I finally notice that her fingers are missing at the knuckle, bile welling up in my throat in empathy with the blood flowing down the leg of her chair to pool on the floor.
"But the one thing I cook the best! The one thing. Is denied to me! Except this weekend. Except to us and a few select guests!"
I am in a kitchen I realise. Gas burners burbling gently in the island front of me, heating a saucepan, other pots and pans hanging over it. A knife block and chopping board to one side. Pots of fresh herbs to the other. Ovens, refrigerators, cupboards and a stainless steel sink on the tiled back wall. A huge extractor hood overhead.
"I am making soup as our entrée." The voice coos. "Does it not smell delicious? Doigts Double Dames! We shall test the courses and together we will create the perfect banquet!"
I close my eyes and swallow, my throat thick with dread. My Dad and one of his colleagues were hunting a drug gang in Phoenix when one of them stumbled into a PCP den. Two of the junkies were eating him alive literally when my Dad arrived with backup . . . .
Renee should never have told me that part of the story. Never, never, never.
An unseen hand lifts my hair and inhales deeply before emitting a long sigh.
"Brunettes." He hums in satisfaction. "The tastiest morsels."
Oh my god!
"Mes amies!" His voice shows even more excitement and suddenly a tall pony tailed figure in Chef's whites blasts between us to hurry over to the island. Snatching up a spoon he sips the liquid, humming in satisfaction again.
"Our entrée is almost ready, you will get to taste it soon, but for now it is time to select the right cuts for our main course."
He turns to smile at us, brandishing a long knife, the wickedly sharp blade glinting in the light . . . .