CHAPTER 59-Hopeless

Jackie clung to me the rest of the way back. Her legs could barely support her, so she leaned onto me while we walked. The moonlight nestled into her messy russet hair like snow. Tears still streamed down her face, but she bit her lip and tried to push them back.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. "We'll get her," I said.

"Yeah." She didn't sound like she believed me.

The scene kept replaying over and over again like a film I couldn't turn off. Jackie shrieking, the thud of Alexa being thrown into the van like a rag doll, the deafening thunder of the gun, the ceiling spinning and whirling like a top, crashing and splitting into my brain like the waves beating against a rocky shoreline.

No. Don't think about that right now. Just concentrate on the rhythm of the footsteps. One two, one two, faltering, quivering, like the frantic whispers of a beating clock.

Even in the silence of the night, questions still chased each other all around my mind, running endlessly in circles. It reminded me of a painting I had seen once, of a bear chasing a wolf, a wolf chasing a cat, and the cat running after a rabbit, never stopping, never ceasing. They might as well have been hurtling after eternity. Who was Lilith? What did those men want?

Beneath the stars, I could just make out the faint outlines of Brandon and Harry curled up in a dark alleyway.

I hissed sharply, "Brandon! Wake up!" Harry stirred a little, muttering, but didn't wake.

Brandon seemed to detect the urgent tone in my voice, and in seconds, he was on his feet, his hair wild and messy and his breath quickening.

Seeing Jackie huddled fearfully beside me, his eyes widened. "What's wrong? Jackie?"

He reached out an arm toward her and hugged her tightly. "Where's Alexa?" he demanded.

She only sobbed harder at the sound of her name. He blinked at me questioningly.

I took a step back and swallowed, my throat dry. "They...they took her away. The people in the black van."

Brandon's eyes flared up and scorched right through me, the heat licking at his temples. His grip on Jackie tightened.

"No!" he said, the tone almost bordering on panic. He scrambled forward and clutched the collar of my shirt in his fists, pulling my face in close to his. I could feel his labored breathing, the fear and rage rising in his glare.

He had never acted like this before. Not once. He had always been soft-spoken and calm, impossible to make angry, like the serene surface of a moon-washed lake. How wrong I had been.

I understood his emotions of rage and terror as clearly as if they were tangible. His fist was clenched so tightly that I could see the whites of his knuckles, see the fury of a lion stirring deep inside him.

"They took her," I croaked. "I tried to stop them. But she's not dead, I'm sure of that. They just took her somewhere..."

He let go of me and tugged at his hair in frustration, wincing. "If course she's not dead," he gasped, his voice cracking. "She's facing something even worse than death."

A new spark of panic surged its way up my spine. I could imagine her locked inside the back of the van, her arms tied behind her back, cowering and beaten in the corner like an animal.

"Hmnh..." Harry's voice was thick and tired as he groggily sat up. "What are you yelling about?"

He caught sight of Jackie and immediately rushed to her side, sleep quickly forgotten.

He wrapped her up in a tight bear hug and asked urgently, "What? What's wrong? Where's Alexa?"

Brandon whipped around and spat, "They took her," and he glowered at me. "Where did you and Jackie go?"

"Um..." I didn't want to answer. My legs felt weak, and my voice weaker. It felt as if my head was perched on the clouds instead of on Earth, as if this was all just a dream.

He said, "You went to the House, didn't you?" His voice shook. "You went there even when I told you not to."

Harry squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, hey, calm down. We'll work together. You'll think of something. You always do. We'll get Alexa back before dawn, just you wait and see," he murmured, as gently as a mother to her son.

"Yeah." Brandon swallowed thickly and rubbed his temples, his eyes squeezed shut. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. Everything was falling down in pieces, collapsing, crashing and dashing to the floor like broken glass. Jackie and I should have never gone. We should have listened to Brandon. I bit my lip, drawing a hint of blood, watching Harry trying to reassure a hysterical Jackie with Brandon fuming and pounding on his head. What do I do, what do I do?

All of a sudden, Brandon opened his eyes again and drawled out a slow, echoing breath. It seemed to clear all of our minds, all at the same time.

He relaxed his shoulders, his hazel eyes clear, and began to pace. The tension in the air began to dissipate and disappear, taking the fog in my mind away with it. I could think clearly again.

He straightened his back and muttered, "Right. Ashley, which direction did the van leave?"

I quickly pointed to the right, then to the left, indecisive. Wait, the mountains were north. I answered, "To the east."

"Alright. None of us know where they live or where they're exactly headed, but they went east. Alright," he said again. "We need a plan."

In a few minutes, he had formulated the beginnings of a strategy. One of us would walk out to the House again, seemingly alone, as bait. Once the black van turned the corner again and captured said person and tossed him into the vehicle, the others would come out of hiding.

Jackie sniffed, "And then what?"

"And then..." Brandon clenched his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And then...we somehow steal a car and follow the van just out of sight so they won't notice us."

Jackie and I both gave him skeptical glances.

Brandon sighed and his shoulders sagged, tired. "Alright then, that obviously won't work. Let's—"

Harry leaped to his feet in excitement. "But that'll work! We somehow get ourselves a car and follow them back to where they came from. It's a great plan!"

I sent him a cynical look with my eyes. "Reaalllly?" I said, focusing every ounce of doubt I had into that one word. "Where do we even get a car in the first place? And about the person who's going to be the bait. How do you know that the foes won't shoot first and ask questions later?"

Harry waved his hands frantically, trying to make us understand. He almost seemed frustrated. "Because! Just because. They have a gun, but they never shoot their targets. They just drug them and drag them away to who-knows-where. It's a tacky plan, but it just might work."

We all turned our heads to look at Brandon, waiting for his advice. He sighed again. "Yeah. I don't have a better idea, so why not try it? The worse that could happen is them finding out."

Harry gave him a hearty pound on the back, making him wince. "Atta boy! We'll get her back before dawn, just you wait and see."

We all stood up. The sky was still as pitch as night.

A fleet of vehicles were parked against the sidewalk, glowing silver from the moon.

OOOoOooOOoOoOoOOooOOooOOooOoOooooOoO

And I soon found out that none of us knew how to hotwire a car. Trying to break in would only result in having the alarm screeching nonstop in our ears, so Brandon had to lock pick the door. We chose the closet car we could find, a common black one that looked old and beaten up and somehow dusty.

In a matter of seconds, he had jiggled the door open and wiggled inside.

"You know how to hotwire it, right?" I asked. No one answered, and my hopes were dashed.

He tried to use the twisted paper clip to lock pick the engine too, but of course that didn't work. Here was the car, the doors unlocked and open, ready to drive, but no key to drive it with.

It was hopeless, and by the way Brandon hung his head, I knew he had known it right from the start.

Jackie wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, biting her bottom lip. "I won't cry anymore," she said stiffly. "Just tell me what I need to do, and I'll help."

Brandon punched the steering wheel, making the automobile blare out a one syllable roar that probably woke up the entire street. "This isn't working," he hissed.

I could imagine the black van speeding down the highway, carrying Alexa further and further away from us.

I clutched his shoulders and pulled him out. "Don't you know a place where you could just borrow a car from?" I asked desperately. "I don't know, like a friend, or...or maybe Heath ?" He was the first person who came to mind.

Brandon jerked away from my grasp. "Heath is not a friend," he said coldly, spitting the name out as if it were poison. "He was not a friend, he is not a friend, and he will never be a friend."

I looked to Harry and Jackie for help, but even they were staring at me grimly, their jaws squared.

"What?" I asked. "What's wrong with Heath?"

Jackie gaped at me. "Are you kidding? Have you already forgotten what he did to you?"

Instinctively, my hand reached up to trace the fading bruises on one cheek. It didn't even sting anymore.

I replied coldly, "I don't care. What matters right now is getting our friend back, even if it means confronting Heath. What, he does have a car, right? Or maybe he knows how to hotwire one. Either way, we have to take this chance, we have to ask for help." Once again, I saw Heath's sneering, leering twisted face, his fist raised to pound into me. I stifled a shudder. He acted so much like Fang.

Jackie and Harry gaped at me, not believing what I was saying. Brandon turned away and folded his arms, staring up at the sharp curve of the moon.

He murmured quietly, "You don't know Heath. You don't know what he's done. He's a madman. He's a lunatic. I won't allow you anywhere near him."

I was beginning to grow a tad bit angry. I understood that he was just trying to protect me, but I shoved that thought back into my brain.

I glared up at him, standing up onto my tiptoes because he was so tall.

Jabbing a finger into his chest, I seethed through my teeth, "Listen here, Brandon. Alexa is riding away in that black van and calling for us, and I will not just stand here and wait for a miracle to happen. Heath is our only option right now, and whether or not he decides to help us is his choice, but we have to try. He's strong enough, he's powerful enough, and who knows, he just might help. Can't it get through to your thick skull that we don't have any other option?" I even surprised myself. The old Ashley would've given up and turned away by now, but I had changed. I've still got a little bit of Shadefrost trapped inside me.

He only stared down at me with a stone-cold expression, his brow furrowed.

"No," he said.

"But—"

"Ashley. He's right," Jackie whispered. I spun around, my eyes widening at her words. She was looking down at her feet, one hand rubbing her arm.

"We can't ask Heath," she said quietly. "Let's just try something else."

"Wha—"

"Heath is a killer." This time, it was Harry who spoke. The light had died out from his eyes, and his tone was almost unrecognizable. "He's a violent man. A sick, sick man. He tried to kill one of us once, a long time ago." My gaze slowly widened in disbelief as he continued.

"It was Lilith," he murmured softly, a flicker of a memory passing through him. "He tried to kill me and Lilith. It was before I had met Brandon, and Heath was pressing us back to the brick wall with a knife in his hand. He raised it to strike. You might think there was a last, fleeting glimpse of remorse in his ice-blue eyes, but there was none. They were only empty. If Brandon hadn't showed up right then and there, he would have killed either me or her."

My face was a mixture of skepticism, then horror, then confusion. "But...why would he do that?"

Brandon replied, "Because he's the kind of person who's wrong in the head. He's worse than a bully and enjoys tormenting lesser people for fun. That's why I can't let any one of you near him. It's too dangerous."

But I didn't back down. Heath was one big bulk of a guy, but surely he can't be that murderous? And yet, the look on Brandon's face told me otherwise.

I stamped my foot, opening my mouth to argue again, but to my surprise, Brandon leaned down and ruffled my hair as if I was a little kid, letting his fingers glide through my strands.

He smiled then, small and sad. It wasn't a happy smile, but it was enough to shut me up.

"Please, Ashley," Brandon murmured softly. "Please understand. Heath would murder us without so much as a second glance. Him trying to kill my friends was only the tip of the iceberg. You don't know what else he did."

And from the look in his eyes, I suddenly knew what he was talking about. I saw glimpses of Heath tying a little boy up and hanging him from the rafters, then kicking him like a dog and cackling like a witch, of he and his cronies beating the blood and stuffing out of a small girl that lay trembling in a corner, of him with a knife and a sadistic smile...

My God. Heath was almost the human definition of Fang. And I say 'almost', because no matter what Heath did, Fang would always be ten times worse.

Hanging my head in final defeat, I murmured, "I understand. I'm sorry."

Jackie nodded her head grimly. "We can't confront Heath, but we'll think of another plan. I promise."

I watched them trudge away to think of another strategy. Brandon tried to start the car once more, to no avail, so he had to follow them.

The stars streaked silver lines against my dark hair as I shuffled a few paces forward after him, but then faltered after the first few steps.

When I made sure that they had turned the corner and couldn't catch sight of me anymore, I quickly moved my feet and scurried soundlessly in the opposite direction.

Every step made me shiver slightly with the song of impending doom resonating in my head, but I didn't dare turn back.

For some reason, I felt that Heath was our key. If I could somehow get him to join our side, we could save Alexa. He had muscles. He had knives. He wasn't afraid to get himself hurt. He was just the thing we needed to chase down those louts in the black van.

As I forced my way down the street, I gulped, my throat parched. And if he kills me?

I grinned, a small one. I was Shadefrost, StarClan's chosen cat. Even Fang hadn't managed to kill me yet.

I strode further and further away from the others, my feet echoing softly against the pavement, my path washed in moonlight.

I must have heard their panicked voices further away when they realized that I had gone, and it propelled me to start sprinting. I soon lost myself in the shadows.