LAST TIME-

"There is one thing we do know," Taylor choked out.

"What," Kelsi asked, pulling her face away from Jason's chest.

"Were running out of time," Chad finished, his heart falling to his knees.

The unexpected phone call had increased the tension between the friends. If anything, the call had made things worse. Bickering had broken out, Chad and Jason weren't talking to each other, and the group had progressed no further than a couple of swear words and apologies.

"We really are a lot of help, guys," Kelsi bit out as she turned away, pacing back and forth on the side of Ryan's bed.

Sharpay spoke out from the other side of the bed, her pacing ceased for the moment. "She's right." She held up a hand before the others could protest. "Troy called us for a reason, there was something in the call that he wanted us to hear."

"We didn't even get all of the call, what if there was more to it that we didn't hear?" Jason asked.

"That's not the point," Chad added, a bit of finality in his voice. "We have to think about what we heard."

The room fell silent; the atmosphere so think you could cut it with a knife.

"The ending," Jason broke through. "Red Wolf, something." He scratched his head, eyes squinting in thought.

"Hate to break it to you, genius," Chad cut in, "but the whole county next to us is called that."

The room fell silent again, all eyes downcast.

"There's a lake in our county," Sharpay spoke up, the others giving her their attention.

"I've never heard of it," Taylor admitted, then asked. "How do you know?"

Sharpay looked to Ryan. "Father's boat race is going to be held there—"

"—This weekend," Ryan finished before smacking his forehead. "I can't believe I forgot! He has it every year."

"What does that mean?" Kelsi asked as she stopped her pacing and joined the group.

"Three things," Chad answered.

"We know where their going," Jason said taking a step closer, his voice flowing with confidence he didn't have a second ago.

"We have a boat if we need one and an excuse to be there," Taylor finished looking to Sharpay and Ryan, who in turn nodded their heads and smiled.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

His eyes found the blank cell phone screen as the emerald-eyed man turned back around in his seat. The battery had died in mid sentence. Troy tapped the back of his head against the metal wall of the van, cursing his luck.

Troy Bolton knew two things. One, it was still raining outside, obviously, he thought to himself as he rolled his eyes. The dragging of the windshield wipers would wake him every time he shut his eyes. The rain pounding on the roof was just as annoying. And, two, his right shoulder and arm were going numb. He had managed to slip his hands form behind his back to in front of him, which had helped for a while, but the stiffness was back with a vengeance.

His blue eyes shifted down to the body in his arms. Her chest rising every second or so was the only thing keeping his hopes up; though the movement was so small he had to really look to see it. Her breathing seemed strained, like something was constricting her lungs from the inside. His hand then ran over the gash on the side of her head. Now that it had stopped bleeding, he could get a better look at it. The area around the wound was bruising badly, but the cut itself was not deep or big. He didn't dare lift up her shirt. Seeing the monstrous bruise would crush what little hope he had left. Knowing that it was making it hard for her to breath was enough pain already; he didn't want to see what the damage really looked like.

His hand brushed Gabriella's cheek and her head shifted towards his chest, her dark eyes opening.

"What?" her soft voice asked. Troy could see pain laced in with the small smile she placed on her face, and he could hear it in her voice as she spoke.

"I'm sorry," he whispered out to her, his eyes softening as he spoke the words. He had never really told anyone but Gabriella, that he was sorry.

Her brows furrowed together, her voice growing stronger. "What? Why?"

He pulled back in confusion, his blue orbs breaking eyes contact. If he was not mistaken, these people did want him. These men had hurt her to get to him. How was this situation not his fault? That was the true question. He looked down to her as she pulled on his shirt.

"I made it too easy for them," she paused, locking with his eyes. "If they were after you, I should have realized it sooner, I should have fought harder."

His chest tightened. How could she be so loyal to him when he had not been there to protect her, when he had failed her at the time she had needed him the most.

"I don't deserve this," he whispered as his eyes looked out of the front windshield. "I don't deserve you, or your loyalty."

They both were shifted slightly as the van turned, slowing down to a crawl. The vehicle jerked upward as they passed over a speed bump. Troy felt a soft hand on his cheek, his eyes finding chocolate ones as he glanced down. She had straightened up, or as much as she could at the moment.

"Don't you ever say that," her voice was stern, eyes almost angry. "Promise me, you'll never think or say that ever again."

He was caught off guard by her sudden hostility. Obviously, she thought he had done nothing wrong. She was too good of a person for him. He didn't think he would find anyone like her ever again in his life. He didn't want to. He tried to look away, but her hand on his cheek held him strong.

"Promise me," she repeated.

He found her eyes again. They were no longer filled with anger, but determination. He almost smiled. He thought about it, and came to one conclusion. He didn't want to find anyone else like her. He wanted her. His current situation proved to him that she was the one person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

"Promise," he whispered to her as the van came to a rolling stop. He leaned forward; pressing his forehead to hers as he vaguely heard the front door slam shut. He closed his eyes as her breath washed over his face. There lips were inches apart when the back of the van was wrenched open, the two figures on the other side stiffening in the pouring rain.

"Are we interrupting something?" the emerald-eyed man laughed out, reaching into the back and grabbing one of Troy's arms.

"Yeah," Gabriella barked out, as the other man dragged her out into the pouring rain. "It's a little thing called our lives."

"You're quick, Miss. Montez," the man holding her said, his arm wrapping around her stomach, she inhaled sharply, clamping her teeth together. "But remember the situation you're in."

"Just leave her alone," Troy pleaded. "I'm the one you want."

"We've been through this Mr. Bolton," the man holding him answered, agitation in his voice. "Our boss wants to have you cooperate, and in order for him to be able to do that, we need Miss. Montez here to keep you in check." He paused, then smiled as he started dragging Troy. "Just think, you could have possibly spared her life if you had never fallen in love with her."

Troy glanced over to Gabriella who smiled back at him, the 'I'm ok' look plastered across her face. The pouring rain was washing the dried blood from her face, which made her look a lot more human, and alive. A hostile push in the back made him look forward, his eyes finding a shadowy figure at the end of the pier, who had a small speed boat at his side.

Wait, what? He though, A Pier? His blue eyes looked around, no recognizing his surroundings. He passed a sign that read Red Wolf Lake. So this was Red Wolf Lake. He shook his head. He'd never heard of it. Reality came crashing down on him, his shoulders slightly sagging. Surly if he had never heard of it, then his friends had never either. He cursed out loud, before he finished his thought: no help was coming.

"Such a foul mouth, young Bolton," the man's shadowy voice was strong, secure, which enforced older age. "It doesn't suite you."

Troy squinted through the rain, his blue eyes widening when the figure stepped out of the shadows, shock evident on the young boys face, what the hell was going on, he didn't understand. Troy straightened, his shoulders going back as his eyes fell upon the enemy.

"It can't be," he gawked out. "It's you."