Sorry for the slight delay; was busy with brother's prom and getting ready for the begining of the semester. Now, shall we begin? :D

A scream pierced the air, causing Bella to jump and Jasper to snap his head in the direction of the sound. It had been high, femine sounding and immediately following that a series of gunshots. "It's Angela!" Mike yelled and Bella leaped to her feet,

"Stay here," Jasper snapped as he struggled to rise; his injured ankle made moving quickly so awkward. He couldn't wait till the week was over. The look Bella gave him was something he was growing accustomed too: one that was clearly telling him to go straight to hell and Jasper liked it all the more, even as he felt that smoldering determination. "You'll get hurt if you go out there Bella," Jasper said, pointing out logic he knew too well that this new Bella would most likely ignore.

More gun shots now, followed by a gurgling scream. Bella shook her head as her hands curled into fists. "And Angela will die if we don't do something," Bella whispered. She could see her friend now: body battered and broken, lifeless. And Bella would not let that happen. "I won't lose anyone else."

Her gaze flickered past Jasper to a small set of axes: every good camping store would always have essential handheld tools. Another scream, more high pitched then the last, sounding almost like a child spurned her to action: Bella rushed past Jasper and gripped the nearest axe on the stand: really it was more of a hatchet then an axe and it tied down. Her fingers shook as she struggled to free the hatchet and getting nowhere fast. "Ah!"Bella cried, now frantically pounding at the black tie downs which held the hatchet in place. She could try to pry at the childproof locks with her fingernails but that would take time- and Bella had never been good with time. "Damn it," Bella growled as she finally gave up on prying at the evil locks and now frantically pulled the handle of the hatchet, trying to use brute strength to pull it out.

Her hands couldn't get a good grip on the wood as each frantic yank took her slightly off balance and with each passing second her yanks grew more and more desperate. Images flew by in her mind: Angela with her throat torn out, Angela with her limbs chopped off, Angela gone forever. "Damn it," Bella cried. Two cold arms wrapped around her, capturing her in a hug. Bella stopped her struggle, watching as Jasper reached down and freed the hatchet with a gentle tug, sending the tie flying.

"I can't promise I'll be able to protect you Bella," Jasper whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

"I know," Bella whispered back, hands tightening on the freed hatchet. "But I don't care about my safety Jasper. I'm doing what's right." She felt him kiss her temple: a light, fluttering kiss before he let her go.

"Be careful."

Bella smiled, sounding as weak as she felt. "Always."

She ran faster than Jasper; she had an idea how he felt about this. But Bella couldn't ignore the slaughter going on out there. She could see Mike scrambling about in the front of the store, his hands shaking as he loaded tiny little yellow balls into a rifle. It took a second for Bella to realize what he was doing: he was loading a pellet gun. The gap of the door had been blocked with planks of wood being hammered in place by Erik though Bella knew the newly closed gap could still be easily breeched. Pellets spilled across the counter as she approached Mike; he gave a strained smile though Bella could see how pale he was.

"Bella you can't go out there," Mike said even as Erik snorted.

"So both of you are going to risk your life for these people? You do know that opens us up to my fellow batshit buddies right?"

Bella nodded as she approached the door. "Don't be a hypocrite Mike," she chided and bit her lip. "Why don't you use guns from the gun racks in the back?"

A bit of color flushed his cheeks as he mumbled something under his breath. "What?" Bella asked.

"He said his father has locks on the cabinets and the keys," Jasper replied as he limped up to them. Mike pocketed the small case of pellets and walked beside her, even as Erik pulled back one plank on the gap.

"Hope you two don't mind squeezing through a hole," he said with a huff as he pulled back a few more planks. "But I'm not going to risk the safety of this hideout just for a girl. Hope you understand." The two teens nodded as they slid through the hole. Bella understood; it was logical. This store, while not the most sound of places to hole up in, was a good temporary shelter. At the same time, leaving Angela to die was something Bella couldn't turn a blind eye too.

Bella saw the remains of the people who had been screaming: two waitresses from the local café, both with their throats torn out. There was a man Bella didn't recognize, if only what had once been his face had been gnawed off, looking more like raw sausage then a once human face. Mike heaved and Bella felt her own stomach twist itself into knots before she forced herself forward. She cast a glance beside her to see Mike wiping away spittle from his chin. "Sorry," he muttered. "I don't like violence."

'Neither do I," Bella agreed as the two friends began moving forward again. The sky was an overcast gray and not including the three corpses- there were no people in sight. They walked slowly; Mike with his pellet gun at the ready, Bella with her hatchet. It was when they rounded the corner that they saw the owner of the childlike voice, and this time it was Bella who vomited.

The owner of that high pitched childish scream was indeed a child: one that had experienced a technique called the "Bloody Eagle." Vikings had used it; they would cut open the chest cavity, all the way down to the spine and then break the ribs so that they would resemble blood stained wings. Then the lungs would be pulled out through the victim's back and salt was sprinkled on the wounds as a finishing touch. Bella had heard of this in history class but she had never seen a picture of it; and certainly not on one so young. Someone had been kind enough to cover the child's face with a blood stained blue washrag but there was no denying the tanned skinny legs, or the little pink and white Dora the Explorer shoes splashed in a puddle of blood. Bella averted her eyes in an attempt to not gag again as she inched past the body.

But it was then that she noticed something: just at the crown of the child's head, only slightly above the rim of the blue wash cloth, was an odd scrape of sorts. Bella leaned down and gently pulled the cloth back. Someone had crushed the little girl's skull: dried blood caked the brown ringlets and little flecks of gray matter were matted firmly in the hair. Her eyes were a pale blue: staring and unseeing, her mouth open in a silent scream. Remnants of her pink Dora shirt were shredded around her corpse: like she was lying in a bed of flowers with her hands gently clasped over her still heart.

"I think I ran out of vomit to puke," Mike joked, his voice strained.

"I tried," a voice whispered, causing the two companions to jump. Bella spun around as Mike raised his gun; they could see a shadow fast approaching from the alleyway.

"Stop or we'll attack," Bella commanded. Her palms were sweaty and Mike was visibly shaking. We're so dead.

"I tried," the voice whimpered again and this time the two high schoolers could see who had spoken.

"Angela..." Bella trailed off as her friend stepped into the light.

There was a single drop of blood on her cheek as she approached them, a cinderblock clutched in both hands. Blood coated Angela Webber's chest, little flecks of gray matter decorated against what had once been a white, ruffled shirt. "But I couldn't save her," Angela whispered. "I had too. Don't you see? I tried but I couldn't do it."

"Oh God…"