I don't own Doyle, Drew, Van Rook, or the Secret Saturdays.
I do own Aeron and the group of not-so-nice young men.

The Hunted

Drew didn't know how far they took her. She'd felt horrible when they helped her into the wagon, and felt worse with every second that passed.

She curled up in a corner and tried to ignore her misery, at least to ride it out. She kept telling herself that she was just tired, that she'd just made herself sick from traveling too long.

She didn't realize they'd stopped until they opened the doors. She barely glanced up when one of the men climbed in with her.

The man shook her by the shoulder. She tried to pull free. "Leemelone," she mumbled. "Donfeelgood." She rolled over to face the side of the wagon. She heard him chuckle about something.

He grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her to face him. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore him. She mostly succeeded...until she felt his hand in her shirt.

Her eyes flew open, and she winced at the stab of light. But the man seemed not to notice her reaction, and had begun tugging at her pants.

"Hey!" She tried to push him away from her, but he only gave her a weird grin. "Let me go!"

"Ah, guess your medicine made you feisty, huh?" He ignored her protests and forced his mouth over hers.

He shoved his tongue into her mouth....

And she bit down.

—

The others waited outside and took bets on how long their comrade would take with her.

They heard a loud thud and they jumped, then stared as the wagon rocked back and forth, nearly rocking off the wheels.

One of them snickered. "Damn, but she must be a good one. If I'da known she'd be givin' a workout, I'd have gone first!"

Two others muttered among themselves. "How much did you give her?" the leader asked.

"More than enough," the other one replied. "She'd been feeling bad ever since she took a drink; she ought to be out by now. We ought to be wondering if some of us would take turns with a corpse, not this."

The leader nodded and gave a signal to his group. They readied weapons. The one who'd spoken eagerly looked at the leader curiously, but nodded and reached for the door.

The man inside blew through the door and on top of the one at the door. He scrambled to his feet, stared into the wagon, and tripped over his feet trying to run away. Blood spilled from his mouth.

Drew stepped out and spit out a mouthful of blood. She glared at the man who'd touched her, and pointed her sword at him. "Don't...ever....touch...me...again," she snarled. She took another step, and nearly collapsed. She had to push the sword into the dirt to brace herself.

"Well, now, how do you like that?" the leader said with a laugh. "Looks like our little pet likes playing with things that are long and hard. What's the matter, sweetie? He wasn't big enough for you? Ain't as good as that sword?" She glanced at him, and he smirked. "Seems to me that the sword's a bit much for you. Maybe you want something a little gentler, huh?"

Her eyes widened in fear, and she tried to push herself to her feet. "Stay away from me," she hissed. She leaned against the wagon and raised the sword.

"Ain't nobody going to hurt one of my gang," the leader growled, "certainly not a little girl no better than she ought to be." He gestured to the others and they advanced on her. "Grab her. Hold her down, so we can do this right."

The leader and two other men rushed her. She tried to run around the wagon, but they blocked any escape.

She swung her sword, and the leader stumbled back and clutched at his bleeding arm. She took the opening and ran...but the only place to run was back inside the wagon.

The leader looked up and grinned, then followed her and punched her on the jaw, sending her sprawling.

She reached for the sword, but he kicked it away. He pulled a knife and leaned over her.

She pulled away from him. "Please," she said. I should be able to fight him, she thought. But she didn't feel good. She felt weak. She could barely stand. She could not fight them, not even to save her own life. "Please don't. Don't touch me. Please don't kill me."

"Sorry, little girl," he hissed. "You missed that chance when you attacked my gang. But don't worry." He let the knife blade glide over her throat, almost caressing. "I'll make it quick."

"No!"

He raised the knife....

Gunshots flew into the wagon, and the gang leader tumbled over Drew's huddled form.

She looked up to see a masked man, clad in armor, step into the wagon. "Now, maybe I'm just suffering from a language problem," he said to the gang leader, "but didn't she just say 'don't touch'? Or does that mean something different around here?" He spoke French, like the gang, but his accent was strange.

"Do you have to play around?" the voice on his radio said. "We're making a lot of noise out here, and I'd rather not be around to answer questions if the authorities ever show up."

"Yeah, sure, whatever, boss," the masked man said. "I seem to recall coming after this girl was your idea."

"Just make it quick."

The gang leader picked himself up off the floor and threw himself at the masked man.

The masked man aimed something on his wrist at the gang leader and fired twice. The gang leader staggered and dropped to the ground.

Drew pressed herself into the corner and stared between the masked man and the gang leader. She could not reach her sword, and whatever they'd given her had made her too weak to defend herself. She whimpered as the masked man approached.

He reached down and picked her up. "Let me go! Put me down!" She struggled in his grip, and soon realized that her kicks and punches were not very effective against his armor. "I said, let go!"

She caught him on the neck, and he dropped her for a moment. "Hey!" he protested, when he could speak without coughing. "Ow! Is that how you treat your rescuer?"

Drew wasn't listening. She dodged around him and tried to grab her sword, but the gang leader's body was on top of it.

The masked man threw a weighted rope at her, knocking her to the ground and pinning her arms to her sides in one move. "Come on, will you?" he grumbled and lifted her to his shoulders. "I haven't got all day."

He took one hand off of her and touched something on his chest, and flew out of the wagon and into the air.

She struggled briefly...then stared at something behind him.

The other masked man on the ground heard the growl of a large animal, and turned away from the fight to see....

A very large wolf-like creature leap onto the wagon.

"Aeron!" the man on the ground screamed; Aeron could hear him without the radio. "Behind you!"

Aeron turned to see, and his eyes widened as he watched the creature come right for him.

The beast landed on him, driving him and Drew to the ground.

Aeron plowed to a stop, too stunned to realize he was no longer in the air. Drew rolled out of his grasp.

The beast advanced on her, its jaws dripping. She saw the creature coming, but she couldn't even lift her head without pain.

Van Rook launched himself into the creature's side, knocking it off its feet. He drew a knife and tried to stab it, screaming every obscenity he could think of, and a few he might have made up on the spot.

The beast rolled to its feet and evaded Van Rook's blows. It swung out a paw and caught the man on the helmet, making him stagger. But he shook it off and lunged again.

The beast eventually caught Van Rook in its jaws and threw him to the ground. Before he could rise again, it grabbed his head in its jaws and bit down.

Van Rook continued to scream, in a mix of rage and pain and fear.

One fang punched through his mask. The beast jerked its head, tearing the mask free.

Van Rook scrabbled to grab his knife.

The beast lowered its jaws again over its prey.

And was thrown onto its side by a blast of blue light.

The beast scrambled to its feet and turned to face Drew. She braced herself against the wagon, sword in both hands.

The beast leaped towards her, and she knocked it back with another blast from the sword.

Van Rook struggled to his feet and looked at her. "Can you keep that up?" he called. She merely nodded, never taking her eyes away from the beast, and he limped to where Aeron lay. He removed the boy's mask and peered into his face. "Aeron? Aeron, are you all right?" He shook Aeron's shoulder. "Aeron, please, wake up!"

Aeron opened one eye and moaned. "Ow," he said.

"Aeron! Oh, thank the gods, are you all right? Can you stand?"

"Ugh.... I don't know," Aeron mumbled. "Why don't you get off me so I can try?"

Van Rook pulled back a few inches, just enough room for Aeron to sit up. The boy tried to climb to his feet, but finally had to allow the older mercenary to pull him up.

Aeron recovered their gear, and Van Rook ran to the wagon to catch Drew before she collapsed.

He gathered her and the sword into his arms, and turned to watch the beast that had attacked. But the creature was busy licking its wounds, and didn't appear to want to attack again.

Van Rook and Aeron exchanged a glance, then they flew off into the night, leaving the beast to investigate what was left of the gang.

I believe somebody said they wanted a fight scene with Drew. I don't much like writing fight scenes, because they tend to be rather confused in my head...and putting them in words makes it worse, not better.
But this scene was part of the storyline, so I had to figure out a way to write it in. And some fights tend to involve a lot of confusion, so maybe it works, anyway.

In any case, it proves that, in spite of the ego boost some readers are trying to give me, there's always room for improvement.