Chapter 29: Not A Smart Move

Though they were no longer in range of the nomads' fire, Meredith could not help but feel agitated and on edge. She kept looking out the window and, in the mirrors, as though expecting to see one of the Shepherds. She shook her head and looked to Mark, who was focused on driving. His hands were tight on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the dark road. Meredith watched him for a moment before gripping her seat belt and staring at the floor. She felt like she wanted to say something... She wanted to tell him to run back. To take them back and help the others before it was too late. It was only then that she realized she had carried that splinter of wood she had been planning to use with her. She looked at it objectively, running her fingers down the grains. It was smooth and somewhat warped. It didn't quite look like a stake at all, in fact. Just a piece of wood. She began to pick at it, pulling off strips of bark in order to make one end at least slightly pointed. She tapped that end with her finger. It wasn't perfect... But it might just have to do. She laid the stake on her lap and closed her eyes. "Are you taking me to Canada?" she finally asked. She opened her eyes to see Mark nod stiffly.

"Rosalie updated me," he began. "I'm going to take you past the boarder and see if we can't hide out there for a couple of days.

Meredith felt a squirming in her stomach. A couple of days...? And a driving trip across Washington was long in itself. What about Thatcher? She couldn't call him... What could she say? He would be so worried... She could just imagine him, staying up late at night, or driving around in his car, calling out Meredith's name in hopes that she would answer. Her heart wrenched at the thought. And what if the nomads didn't leave after she did? If they saw him in his cruiser, desperately searching for her, there would be no way he could stay safe... or alive, for that matter. It made Meredith so sick with worry she felt as though she was going to throw up. She turned to Mark, desperation in her eyes.

"We have to go back to my house," she pleaded. "I can't let dad think I've gone missing! Please, Mark!" She clung to his arm, her body shaking.

"I can't..." he began.

"You have to! Just think what he'll do if he realizes I'm gone? He'll kill himself trying to find me! And the nomads... If they saw him again, what do you think will happen?" Mark glanced at her and turned back to the road.

"My dad will – "

"You can't guarantee that the nomads will leave him alone!" Meredith interrupted. "He almost died last time! You saw him! Please, please Mark! I can't leave him like this!"

Mark was clearly having a conflict of interests. He pained his face, trying to think of some logical argument that Thatcher would be fine. But it was obvious that he was just as worried of the man's safety as she was. With a groan, he spun the truck around and headed back towards Forks. "Dammit... If this thing goes badly..."

"It won't," said Meredith. Though she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. She clutched the stake tightly, hoping to God that something this crude would work. Sure, it worked on a Laurent copy, but Meredith highly doubted that a copy of a vampire had enough stamina to match a vampire itself.

"What are you going to say to him?" She turned her eyes to Mark. "To your dad, I mean? Do you have a story in mind?" That caught Meredith off guard.

"Oh... Well, no..." She had forgotten that Thatcher couldn't know any of this. She began to gnaw on her lower lip. What was she supposed to say to him now? What could she say to him? What could she do to make him not worry? Maybe she should tell him that she's running away for a few days? No... he'd try to talk her out of it. Say she'd just explain later? He'd never let it slide... Oh God, what was she to do!? She put her head in her hands, at a loss for thought. Maybe she could take him with her? But he would want to know why... Kidnap him! Yes, she would get him knocked out and then kidnap him to Canada…

The truck suddenly stopped, causing both Mark and Meredith to lurch forward. Meredith grabbed onto the dashboard so she wouldn't hit her head, and then looked to Mark, who was just as confused. He pressed his foot on the gas, but they only heard the sounds of the tires spinning. The engine roared in protest, trying hard to break free of whatever held it. Had they driven into a rut? Meredith turned around and gasped.

Victoria was behind the truck, her long arms piercing the bed of the vehicle, keeping it in place. She had a few wounds that were healing over, her bushy hair even more wild. She let the truck go, the thing jerking quickly. Mark put on the breaks just before the grill of the truck made it to the edge of the road. Incidentally, the edge lead to a very large cliff. If they had gone a few feet more on the icy curve, they would have been killed instantly. With a growl, Mark got out of the truck. Meredith didn't dare follow but rushed to the window and rolled it down. "Mark!" she called. He didn't even seem to hear her. His breath made thick fog as he glowered at the vampire. Victoria laughed, tauntingly.

"Well, big bad wolf!" she teased. "Coming to get me?"

Mark wasn't intimidated. He stood there, spreading his feet a bit apart and holding out his hands. Meredith felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She watched intently as his back became rigid. A fine, white hair began to grow on his hands, his blonde locks beginning to bleed snow. He fell to all fours, Meredith noticing his eyes becoming pure silver. His face became a snout like feature, and his ears stretched into wolf ears. A tail protruded from his spine, fangs dripping from saliva. The hair on the line of his back stood on end and he howled. Meredith suddenly remembered a line from Dracula.

Listen to the children of the night... Oh what music they make!

In a fit of snarls, Mark launched himself at Victoria. The vampire dodged him and began to throw her extendable arms towards the wolf. Mark jumped from place to place, leaping over the oncoming attacks nimbly. Then, the white beast ran forward, clamping his jaw tightly around Victoria's neck. She screamed, trying to pry Mark off. But a supernatural wolf was not like a normal animal – Meredith realized that they must have been equal in strength, for Victoria could not pull him away. Dark red blood squirted out from the wound, tainting Mark's beautiful fur.

"You."

Meredith jumped and looked up to see the stern face of Sam staring at her. She hadn't known Sam all that well. At least not as well as she knew Mark. They had swapped words on occasion, but never a full conversation. His hard, steal eyes caused her to shutter, her gaze lingering a bit on his bear print tattoo. "Go," he said, his voice matching his strong figure. "Mark and I can handle this." Meredith was about to protest, but a small part of her feared Sam just as much as she feared the nomads. She gave one last look to the battling wolf, and then nodded. Turning the truck back on, she drove off into the night.

Never was there such an eerie silence. She saw signs passing her and realized that Jasper must have run incredibly far. She was well outside the city limits. She figured that she'd have at least an hour before returning home. She didn't dare turn on the radio. The noise may distract her from her fear, but it also might cover up a flapping of wings, or a growl of breath. If she was being chased, she wanted to know about it. Her sweaty hands stayed attached to the wheel, trying hard to calm down her pattering heart. Slowly, her pulse began to calm. She took a deep breath and sighed, letting her blood cool. Worry still swam around in her mind, and she still had no idea of what to tell Thatcher, but she had no choice. She needed to get him to a safe place. As for Mark, she could only hope that Sam could help. She also hoped that the Shepherds were all ok, particularly little Jasper. In that one little moment they had together, she realized that the boy was probably a very tender soul, despite his outward appearance. If anything happened to him, Meredith would never forgive herself.

With a shake of her head, she continued driving. First thing's first. Getting back to Forks. As she drove, she realized just how odd it was. Pushing aside her fear, she looked at her situation objectively. Though she knew that violence was happening to those who were dear to her, she heard none of it. When she thought about it, it was quite surreal. What could be happening to her friends? They could be screaming... crying out or wailing. Flesh could be being torn from them; bones could be breaking. And yet... all Meredith heard was silence.

She turned onto a different road, surprised by just how barren it was. Usually on a New Year's, there would be cars flashing by, shouts of drunken laughter in their wake. But this night, Meredith's car was the only one on the road. It added to the haunting fears that lingered in her mind.

She glanced at the rear-view mirror, when she spotted something. Her heart jumped into her mouth and she narrowed her eyes, but by the time she looked again, it had gone. A bird, perhaps? Her newly calmed self once more got into a frenzy. No... she knew it wasn't a bird. She looked to the mirror that hung off the side, shifting it with the arrows to get a better look. It was gone. Her breath became faster. Where did it go...?

She wanted to get a better look, but she didn't even think to stop the truck and get out. That's how white chicks in horror movies died. She continued to drive, speeding up in hopes of losing her tail. However, she knew it was far out of the realm of possibilities. That's when she saw ten nails pierce the roof of the truck loudly. Meredith's heart shot into her head. For a moment, she didn't know what to do. She slammed on the breaks. James was unlogged from the roof and fell onto the hood of the truck. His red eyes darted to Meredith and he hissed. Thinking quickly, Meredith threw the truck in reverse and sped backwards down the road. James scrambled to stay on, his nails pealing the top sheet of metal like curling chocolate. When his body was just in front of the grill, Meredith threw it back into drive and slammed him into a tree. He screeched, his wings fluttering in pain. Meredith drew back and smashed into him once more. She pulled back and was about to do it again, when James's hands gripped the hood. He seethed with rage, his fangs dripping with spit. He gave a loud holler and tore for Meredith, breaking the front windshield. She kicked, punched, scratched and bit as best she could. She could feel strong hands grip her arms and she was yanked from her seat. Before she knew it, she was up in the air, struggling. As she was kidnapped, she realized that her stake was still in the truck.

Meredith's one hope for defending herself was now gone. She knew that was not a smart move.