October 30-31, 2009

The first thing Athos remarked about Olivier was that he was short, a little shorter than Shawnee, who really was the smallest of the future quartet. The second thing he remarked was that the young man was very much in love, perhaps even foolishly so, and there was little chance of it being reciprocated by the prickly 17 year old given that none of them had heard of him until recently. He had dark hair tied back in a small tight tail and hazel eyes. There was a pair of those glass things perched on his ever so slightly hooked nose and his hands and feet were childishly small for the time period, yet he was a proud but friendly man, years older than any of the youths in about his mid-twenties, yet still in his prime.

"Bienvenu mes amis," he said with a smile, waving them all inside the small home. "Get in here before you catch a cold." It had fittingly started raining as they rolled into a little place just outside Ottawa. Athos didn't know the name; he hadn't bothered looking out the window for one of the highway signs.

The house was tight inside but cozily done up. There was a little white dog with floppy ears named Lucky. Olivier said it was a trailer, whatever that was, and that his mother was out. Aramis shared a look with Athos to which the older man shrugged his shoulders in his typical nonplussed way, his hand now pale enough to see through without squinting. What was it that Shawnee had said so many times on the drive here when problems came up? Nous nous en sortirons – we will manage. If only it was as easy as a few words.

"Is there anything to eat?" Porthos demanded, looking in the cupboards and the fridge impatiently. "Anything at all besides these damned vegetables?" Olivier shook his head with a brief chuckle and a smile.

"No, Monsieur Porthos, my mother no longer eats meat. You'll have to settle with what's here as I cannot go and buy some when the nearest large town is about an hour away and my mother has the car." Porthos stared at him, surprised that he had known his name without introductions, but Olivier ignored him when he went to ask how he knew.

"Just take one of theirs," said Aramis with a huff, gesturing out to window to the road where the two vans were parked. "Surely you know how to drive one of those metal rolling boxes?"

"That would be rather rude of a host, non?"

"You do not seem very surprised by our arrival," said Athos suspiciously.

"That's because I'm not," said Olivier. "I do have internet here. Shawnee and I chatted quite frequently."

"And you just believed her without question?" said Aramis disbelievingly. Olivier narrowed his eyes.

"Why shouldn't I have? She does not and cannot lie to me. I know her too well for that to happen. But where is she? Surely she wouldn't let you come here without her?" Brenna, Chris, and Joey shared a look, Jordan frowned from his seat on the floor with the dog, and Alexiss looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

"And for that matter, where's D'Artagnan?" Olivier's voice was starting to rise and he looked tense. "What happened? Answer me!"

"Enough. There's no point in attacking them," said Aramis. "What happened occurred too fast for any of us to stop."

They had pulled off the highway for a break, just to stretch their legs, splash some water on their faces, refuel, and maybe buy some food from the service station. They were a little more at ease now that there were several hours between them and the mess they had left behind, and rather than take the straight direction through to their destination, they had gotten on and off the highway at times to take the winding, scenic back roads. It was true that they burned through more fuel, and more funds, with this method but their trail was a little more difficult to follow. Any cash they had on them, however, was running out, and relying on their plastic cards to even get more cash was a great risk as by now, more likely than not, their accounts were being watched for any activity from anywhere, at least so Shawnee fretted. Porthos had just laughed at the ridiculousness of the thought but quickly stopped when neither Chris nor Jordan nor Brenna nor Joey nor Alexiss said anything against that.

Everyone was in their respective vehicles, waiting for Shawnee and Chris to finish paying, when the two youths suddenly barrelled out of the gas bar, clambered in the drivers' seats, and sped off without a care for safety, Chris narrowly missing a small blue car as he cut it off at the exit of the station.

"Come on, go faster you big blue piece of junk!" cursed Shawnee, pounding with one hand on the steering wheel.

"What's going on?" demanded Brenna, turning around in her seat to see out of the back window.

"The news was on in there and the cashier got a good look at us. Good thing it was some dopey kid otherwise he'd have already been on the phone as we went to pay. I can't believe we just stole gas."

"Who's to say he didn't call the police anyway? What about silent alarms? He could have been pressing a little button under the counter and you'd have never known!"

"Calm down girls," said D'Artagnan. "Those cars are incredibly loud are they not? Surely we'll hear them before we see them and can get off the road before they catch up."

"It's not that simple!" said Shawnee angrily. "Brenna, send Chris a text. See if he has any ideas. I can't think straight right now."

Unfortunately, Chris had none and was even bold enough to remind her that she was the captain and thus it was her responsibility to do the thinking. After many repetitions of morbleu, sacrediable, and vertubleu, enough to make Athos' brow knit with disapproval, Shawnee finally took a deep breath, sat up straight, and drove in icy silence. Brenna attempted to make small talk but every word fell on deaf ears and she soon gave up. She checked on Athos to see how much of him had faded (his fingers at that point see through yet surprisingly still functional) then began to doze in her seat until the sudden sound of sirens struck her ears.

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," Shawnee whimpered, pushing the gas pedal down to the floor.

"They're gaining on us!" said Athos, turned in his seat, the blue and red lights flashing alternately across his face.

"They must have only put on their lights so they could find us quietly and still dodge traffic. How did we miss that?" Brenna flipped open the cell phone and dialed Chris.

"Do you see them?" she said into it.

"Yeah, can't miss the lights and noise. Stupid pigs... Do we ram them?"

"Chris, that's no good. Shawnee! Pull over! Maybe we can escape them by running into the fields. You hear that Chris?"

"Yeah, I heard you screechy. Let's go." The drivers jerked the vehicles on to the shoulder of the road with a spray of gravel and the occupants piled out. Joey and Alexiss lead the way down into the ditch, leaping the small gulley of slimy water, Aramis and Porthos right behind them. Jordan and Chris quickly followed, Chris quickly pushing a button on his keys to lock the doors. Brenna and Athos flew from the minivan, already halfway up the hill, heading towards a field of wheat, and D'Artagnan jumped the gulley but stopped, looking back when he found himself alone. Shawnee was in the van, struggling with her seatbelt. He looked up the hill, where he saw Athos and Brenna disappearing over the crest of it, and turned back. He climbed in through the still open side door and found the girl almost in tears.

"Stop squirming Shawnee and hold still." He drew a dagger from his boot and cut at the grey belt. She looked back and howled.

"Hurry, please. Oh God, I don't want to die." D'Artagnan felt the fabric break under his gloved fingers and pulled it back.

"Calm down. Start running already!" She opened the door only to scream as it was shut in her face and an officer levelled a gun at the window. D'Artagnan's eyes were big as he stared at another officer facing him through the sliding door opening.

"Stay where you are. Don't move." The first one beside Shawnee spoke into a radio and more cars pulled up quickly, at least three, their sirens off but their lights still flashing. Two pairs of officers climbed out, went up the hill, and into the field after the others. They ignored the rows of squat, thick pines, heading off into the wheat and completely missing Athos buried amongst the branches with one arm wrapped around Brenna and his other hand clapped against her mouth to keep her from shouting. The pair watched in muted horror as D'Artagnan and Shawnee were brought from the van at gun point and forcefully pushed down against the hood, their faces lying on the still warm metal, their wrists being cuffed together behind their backs.

"The girl in one car and the man in the other," ordered McGillan, suddenly appearing from the final car and smiling coldly. The officers began to separate the two when D'Artagnan, after he was lifted back into an upright position by the back of his collar, threw back his head against his captor. There was an audible crack and a yell from the assaulted and D'Artagnan went to charge when McGillan caught Shawnee by the arm and held a small black thing against the side of her neck.

"Be warned Monsieur. I will not hesitate to put all the electricity available in this device into her system if you continue to disobey." D'Artagnan looked to the young woman who shook her head ever so slightly. He stood very still, glaring icily at the scientist as the second officer came to take hold of him again. McGillan pulled the black object away from the girl.

"Run, D'Artagnan, run for your life!" she yelled and he did, tripping the officer behind him and heading off down the shoulder of the road. Unfortunately, the four others cops returned at that moment, having not found the rest of the group of fugitives, and gave chase to him. One got close enough to leap and tackle him, and as the captain struggled, another came up and beat him around the head with his stick, knocking him out.

"They dragged D'Artagnan to a car and put Shawnee in another and they all drove off," said Athos tiredly.

"You were right there!" yelled Olivier. "You were both there and you did nothing!"

"We couldn't do a damn thing, you fool," said Athos. "We would have all been taken had we done anything."

"Frankly, that scientist gives me the creeps," said Joey.

"What's his name again?" asked Olivier, pulling his laptop onto his knees.

"McGillan," said Alexiss, "He came from somewhere in Montreal, I think. Why?"

"Well, the internet may be able to tell us more about him," said Olivier. "Search the kitchen if you want food. I'm too busy to make you guys something now."

One thing Athos had to admit, however, was that although the young man was foolishly 'in love' with that prickly girl, his determination was an admirable trait. Brenna stood from her seat and went to the kitchen to poke through the cupboards, pulling things from here and there to try and make up something for everyone to eat. It turned out to be just soup, but it was better than nothing. Porthos, Aramis, and Chris went to grumble a bit, but a glare from Brenna and Athos made them go quiet again. The only other sound beyond the scraping of spoons was the clicking of Olivier's keyboard as he scoured the internet.

"I got him," he said coldly. "A Montreal geneticist working to find some cure of some sort of which I, frankly, could care less about." Setting his computer aside, he stood and stretched, walking into the kitchen where Athos and Brenna sat at the tiny table, Joey sat up on a counter, and Chris, Porthos, Alexiss, and Aramis sat on the floor. Lucky sat in front of Aramis, a paw on his leg and an eager expression, which the priest was happy to ignore, sparing only side glances at the little white to make sure it came no closer.

"We're leaving at first light," said Olivier sharply. "Finish your food; find a place to lie down. I'll get some blankets or something for you and I'll explain to my mother what's going on. She'll understand. Be ready in the morning because if you're not, I will leave without you."

"Don't worry about us," said Brenna, rolling her eyes. "You just remember to set your alarm more than once. I remember Shawnee saying not even a bomb could wake you up when you're really sleeping." Olivier nodded and left the kitchen, heading into a back room, most likely a bedroom, to search for extra blankets.

"We barely know this guy," hissed Jordan. "Are you seriously going to trust him?"

"We really don't have a choice," said Chris. "Do you know how to speak French?"

"Well no, but—"

"Then shut up already and eat your soup or I'm taking it."