CHAPTER 61-Not For Sale
The van shuddered and moaned like the belly of a great beast. I was tossed from side to side by the vibrations, but my brain was still wrapped up in the lingering traces of the drugs. My head felt foggy and murky, as if someone had snuffed out the flame of a candle with their fingers. My eyes drooped. In the back of my mind, I thought about how I was supposed to be afraid right now, but a quick jostle of the van as it ran over some unfortunate squirrel quickly muddled my already scattering thoughts. I wished that I had a light to see with. That way, it wouldn't be so dark.
I must've fallen asleep, because the next thing I heard was the ear-grating noise of the doors opening. I pried my eyes open and winced, cupping my hands against my ears to protect them from the racket. It sounded like someone scraping metal over stone.
A bright light filled the room like a golden liquid, temporarily blinding me. It was already morning. A man, thick and hairy, stood in front of the opening, blocking part of the light. I didn't recognize him. He must be someone else. He leaned down and unfastened the ropes on my legs, which were painfully cut off from circulation and were screaming at me with pins and needles. I hoped that he would unbound my hands too, but he didn't.
He roughly seized my shoulder, clutching it tightly until it hurt, and forced me onto my feet.
"Get going," he barked. "I've got other things to deal with."
My brain, still fogged by drugs, suggested me to kick him or shoot back with an insult, but the most I could manage was an incoherent mumble. He jostled me to my feet. My legs were trembling and could barely support my weight, but he only shoved me forward and ushered me, staggering, outside the van.
I didn't recognize this place. The land was flat, from as far as the eye could see, save for a few scraggly, dried up yellow bushes and trees. The ground was rocky and brown. A black, jagged road snaked around in front of us, extending from one part of the horizon to the other. Spots danced in front of my vision and my ears were ringing faintly. It took all my effort just to keep my head up.
The next thing I knew, I was being dragged through a long, dark, winding hallway, pale golden light streaming from the narrow windows. I ignored the hairy hand clutching my shoulders, hurrying me along.
Dust motes danced and whirled in front of the windows like dandelion seeds.
He tossed me into a cage and I banged my skull harshly against the wall, adding more pain to my headache. Through half-lidded eyes, I heard him say, "You be good now. No use trying to escape," and then the squeaking of his shoes against the floor as he sauntered away.
Ow, my head. I curled up and clenched my eyes shut, waiting for the pounding in my brain to cease, waiting for my mind to clear. I just wanted to sleep.
A small noise, and I heard something scuffling nearby. Blinking groggily, I weakly lifted my head, and what I saw made my eyes widen in unconcealed surprise.
There were cages, dozens of them, lined up next to mine on both sides, big ones, small ones, dog crates, all of them different and yet the same in one way. They all contained kids like me.
They stared at me fearfully with large, sad eyes, but when they saw me making eye contact with them, they quickly scrambled away into the opposite corner. Their hands were bound like mine, with the ropes cutting into their flesh and making them pink and raw.
I couldn't hold back a gasp when I saw that some of them bore ragged scratches and wounds, crude marks from their captors. They couldn't be more than twelve years old, some of them even younger than seven. I blinked away my tears.
Pressing my face against the bars of my cage, ignoring the cold steel nipping my skin, I whispered gently, "Hey, don't be scared. I'm going to help you. We're going to get out of here, together."
They didn't say anything but shot me cold, disapproving glares.
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Third Person POV
A newcomer, the children whispered amongst themselves, some crouching forward to catch a glimpse, others huddling fearfully in the back.
A girl, they whispered. They watched as the Behemoth tossed her unceremoniously into her cage, her head making a dull whack as it made contact with the bars, and the door slowly swung shut and the Behemoth locked it securely with the key. It was only when he exited the room that the children craned their necks forward, studying the newcomer.
Just like us, they said, their eyes softening, big and sad. Another one.
Many of them turned away, refusing to look anymore, but a few still lingered. To their surprise, the girl was talking to them. "Hey, don't be scared. I'm going to help you. We're going to get out of here, together."
The children wrinkled their noses and scowled. Who was she, the one who still had hope even when all the others had lost theirs? She wasn't the first one who had spoken those words. Once in a while, their were children, children like her, who would show up in the building, locked in a cage, but with the sun still shining in her eyes and their tongues still speaking optimistic words. They made promises, oh they did, great and hopeful promises that lifted broken souls, if only for a few seconds. And yet, every time, those promises were never kept. Time and time again, they would eventually give up and the warmth of the sun would leave their eyes, and the next day, they would be gone, sold to some or the other, their cages occupied by a new person the next day. A vicious cycle. And yet, the children learned to get used to it.
"Don't be scared," the stranger said again. The children blocked their ears and turned away, not letting themselves listen to false promises again. Hopefully, she would be sold a few days later, and then they wouldn't have to have their hopes crushed again.
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There was a water bottle in the corner of my cage, but no food. My stomach rumbled like a cat, attacking me and yowling at me for something to eat. I tried to wiggle my way out of the ropes, but they only bit deeper into my skin, chaffing it and rubbing it raw. They were too tight to loosen. I searched around desperatley, looking for some sharp object to cut it with.
There was a small boy moping in the cage next to me, his blond hair messy and his blue eyes resonating with the echoes of melancholy. His skin was pale, as he probably hadn't stood outside in the sun for quite some time.
"Hey," I said gently. He started and jumped lightly like a startled rabbit, surprised, and he quickly glanced up with fear.
I turned my back to him and showed him the ropes tied around my hands. "Do you think you can untie them?" I asked hopefully.
He glanced at me and scurried away like a timid mouse. I craned my neck, and realized that even if he did try to help me, it was impossible. His cage was a few inches too far from mine, too far away for him to reach my hands.
The large, wide room in the building was quiet. You could even hear a pin drop, as loud and clear as a silver bell. The silence was getting to me, so I said, "So, um, do any of you know where I am?"
Scuffling from tiny feet, and then everything was still. A voice mumbled, "No idea."
"Oh." I began to inspect the lock. It was a normal one, the kind that you needed a key for. I saw the man shove the key down in his pocket, so I had to find something else that could help. If only I had a paperclip or something. I had no idea how to lockpick, but I could try.
I could see every detail of every face contained in the cages clearly, but the face I was searching for wasn't there. It made my heart pound faster, and I decided to search again. She had to be here.
I called, "Alexa!" and held my breath as my voice ricocheted and echoed around the walls, a lot louder than I intended it to be.
An older boy scowled. "Shut up," he hissed. "They'll hear us."
"Sorry," I said, "But I'm looking for a friend. She's seven years old, brown hair with bangs, and brown eyes. She's about four feet tall, and she was wearing a dull grey shirt."
"You're not the first person to have come here looking for someone. If you don't see her here, then they've probably already sold her."
"What?" My heart skipped a beat. Human trafficking, Heath had said.
I thrust my head against the bars, trying to squeeze through, if that was even remotely possible. I was wild with panic. "Tell me you saw her! She has to be here! Alexa!"
A chorus of hushed voices rose up like a wave. "Hush up, girl! Don't let them hear us! We'll get in trouble."
The black tide threatened to drown me as it tossed me against the cliffs, again and again. Tears welled up from the corner of my eyes, but I cleared my throat and forced them away. Even if Alexa was gone, I still had to save these kids. I had to be strong for them.
I noticed that they were huddled in the far corners of their cages, trying desperatley to put as much distance from me as possible. They were acting as if I was a huge lion waiting to devour them.
I asked gently, "Why are you afraid of me?"
A murmur rippled throught the crowd, but they didn't answer.
A little girl with curly hair propped herself up against the bars. She was a lot thinner than she should be, and her neck was outlined in red where huge, rough fingers had grasped it. "Because," she whispered quietly, as if the slightest loud noise would bring the walls crumbling down, "Because there were others like you. They told us they would rescue us and take us out, but they couldn't. They were powerless, like us. In the end, the bad men took them away and we never saw them again." Her voice was hollow. I cringed. I recognized that voice. It was the voice of a ghost who had long given up hope.
I wanted to squeeze her hand. "You poor things," I whispered.
I straightened up my back, as much as the cramped cage would allow me, and forced a small smile. "Well," I said. "I'm different. I meant what I said, and I will get you out."
A boy narrowed his eyes. "What makes you so sure?"
"I am Shadefrost, a warrior of ThunderClan, and the one who walks a path of flames." I quickly added, "Weird name, I know, but that doesn't matter."
I stared at these broken and battered children, of the people who were dead long before they had died, of empty, glassy eyes. I knew those eyes. They were the eyes of the cats on the battlefield, of hopeless, crying gazes as they wailed for their loved ones.
And so I tried to cheer them up by the only way I could. I didn't sing lullabies, of course. Singing was the only thing I sucked at.
Instead, I told them stories. What's better than listening to stories, dreaming of impossible dreams and imagining that you were in a place far away from here?
Most stories began with 'Once upon a time', or 'A long, long time ago', but the stories I told didn't take place a hundred years in the past. They happened only recently, only sixteen months ago in my past Year.
"When you sit outside underneath the night sky and hold your breath," I said, "when you feel the strands of grass under your fingers and listen to the endless song of the crickets and feel the wind bob the heads of tulips up and down, you can sometimes hear the stars singing. They sang old songs, for the stars were ancient and elderly and very, very far away. They sing about dreams and wishes and the hopes of butterflies, and they twinkle and dance and serenade together. They gambol and twirl and shine with the light of a thousand suns, and they leap like swans diving under waves. And the shooting stars are the ones with magic. Glorious they are, fleeting they are, lasting for only a few seconds, yet those seconds will continue to burn in your eyes for a little while more. The starlight collects on plants and turn into dew. If you rub a dandelion under your chin and it leaves yellow pollen behind, that means you're in love..."
And their ears opened. Their eyes opened. And, quite possibly, their empty hearts opened too, if only for a fleeting second.
"Were you in love?" one of them asked, wide-eyed.
I jiggled at the lock outside my cage, not saying anything for quite some time.
At last, I leaned back and swallowed, my throat dry. "Yeah," I said at last. "Yeah, although I never got the chance to rub a dandelion on my chin. But I loved him. I really, really, did love him, like how the wind loves the rain and the trees love the earth. And I was very sad to see him go."
I told them more stories until I had run out of anything to say. In the meantime, I had tried wiggling my hands again, resulting in more scrapes and more burns, but slightly looser rope.
I called, "Does anyone have a paper clip, or something sharp?"
Mouths were set in grim lines and heads were shook, but at least their eyes were brighter now. More hopeful.
"Right," I grunted, flexing my hands with the ropes tightly restricted around them like lifeless snakes.
A young voice suddenly chirped, "W-wait! Lily, here, see if you can reach my hands if I stretch them out of my cage."
There was a bit of scuffling. I held my breath.
"Y-yeah. I can reach them. Give me a sec, and I'll see if I can untie it."
I imagined the first girl with her back pressing against the bars, her hands extending through the openings. The other one, Lily, was straining against her cage, her fingers fumbling clumsily against the rope. It didn't help that their hands were tied together.
"It's loosening! Lily, a little more to the right."
The cold weight of despair began to lift and I felt giddy with excitement. A few of the kids were trying to see what was going on, some even whispering encouragements.
The clanging of a large door opening brought them to a dead stop. I shrunk back as a different man, the fat one, sauntered through like an old bear.
I didn't breath, I couldn't breath, for he was dragging a little girl behind him, her face wet and puffy with tears.
Alexa!
As he passed my cage, she and I locked gazes. I gave her a relieved grin, and she managed a small smile in return.
The man was going to throw her into a different cage. If only I could get him to place her near me!
"Sir?" I asked. The crowd of children gasped softly, frightened that I was actually trying to talk to our captor.
The fat man stopped and turned his head, slowly, trying to look intimidating and large. He didn't look so frightening, with his drunken red eyes and the double chin. He suggested a very overweight and wrinkled bull dog.
"Sir?" I said again. "Um..." My voice trailed off as I thought of an idea.
I began again. "Sir, whatever you do, please don't lock her in with me! I've known her for four years, and she is annoying and a complete chatterbox! I can't stand the sight of her! Please, don't even put her next to me!"
It was a lame idea, but hey, no danger in trying it.
She gave me a confused look.
The story of Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox, about how the wicked fox was contemplating on how he would make the rabbit's death as painful as possible. Brer Rabbit had sung out 'Whatever you do, please don't throw me into the briar patch!' and Brer Fox, thinking that it would be very painful indeed, tossed the bunny into the shrub of thorns. The rabbit had won, in the end, for he was small enough to tunnel through the briars without getting hurt and therefore got away.
And the fact that the fat man was drunk only made it easier.
He gave me a twisted grin, which only fueled my joy. "Yeah?" he smirked. "Too bad, sissy. She's going in with you."
Alexa landed, with a small yelp, next to me and the cage door locked once more.
The man turned away, chuckling to himself at this 'evil deed', and right as he left, I quickly scrambled toward him. Squeezing my arms through the tight bars, I fumbled for the key in his back pocket. My hands only grazed his jeans lightly before he had walked out of my reach.
I mouthed the word 'no' and silently watched him leave, my salvation lost and shattered.
I squeezed my eyes shut and banged my fists against my forehead as I heard the door opening and shutting, his footsteps squeaking against the floor and ebbing away.
"Psst," a voice said, young and strong.
The girl in the third cage away from me had a triumphant glint in her eyes, her mouth tilted into the beginning of a smile, as she held up the key she had filched from the man's back pocket. The key dangled from her fingles and glowed silver against the light streaming from the windows. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, that girl crouching in the cage, holding up the gleaming key like a trophy.
"I love you so much," I whispered, threatening to overflow with emotions of gratitude.
She passed the key from cage to cage until it finally slipped into mine. I grabbed it eagerly, felt the smooth surface on my fingers, and desperatley shoved it into the lock. I was suddenly afraid. What if this was the wrong key?
But the lock opened with a satisfying clunk and I caught it before it thudded onto the floor. The cage door creaked open.
Gasps and silent cheers could be heard from the crowd.
I beamed at Alexa and she threw herself at me, hugging me with her bound hands if she could. I nuzzled her, and we helped each other out of the cramped cage. My legs felt so relieved to be able to stretch again.
We untied the ropes on each other and fell into a great big bear hug, and new tears streamed out of her eyes.
"I was so afraid," she whimpered into my shirt.
I smiled.
Feeling dozens of eyes pressing into me, I straightened up, letting my gaze sweep over the crowd. The kids were straining against the bars of their cages, reaching their arms out for freedom. Some of them were smiling with barely concealed relief.
Slowly, I held the silver key above my head like a trophy. It gleamed, polished and smooth.
"I said that I would get you out," I said. "You're going to be free, every last one of you. You're going to feel the grass underneath your feet again. Who's with me?"
Cheers erupted from dozens of eager faces, the voices still barely more than whispers as they didn't want to draw attention.
I got to work jamming the key up the locks, moving as quickly as I could. I didn't know what to do after I unlocked all the cages, but I would figure out a plan somehow. As each face beamed up at me, my soul felt lighter and lighter. The joy drowned out my despair.
As I unlocked the door of one boy, he didn't move and only stared up at me.
I asked worriedly, "What's wrong?" His bottom lip began to quiver.
Blinking away tears, the five-year-old squeaked, "But the men. What if they see us? What if they find us? They'll lock us up again."
As he stood there crying, my mind was blank, and I was unsure of what to say.
Finally, I cupped his face in my hands and crouched down so that I was his height.
"You have to remember one thing," I told him. "One thing that is very, very important. You can't forget it." He hesitated, and then nodded.
I continued softly, "As long as you do not give up, nothing is over. Don't ever give up hope. Don't ever stop believing. As long as you say that you can do it, you can do it. Just those four words: 'I can do it'. With just those four words, you can climb mountains. You can build towers. You can save great civilizations. Do you trust me?"
He sniffed, and I could tell how hard he was trying to hold back more tears. "Y-yeah," he squeaked. "Yeah. I can do it."
"You and me, we'll be okay. We'll get out."
A small hand tugged at my trousers. Alexa's grim face stared up at me.
"We have to hurry up," she said.
I nodded and proceeded to unlock dozens and dozens more of endless rows of cages.
Finally, every last one of them were standing and stretching and flexing their sore hands. Every one of those cursed cages were empty. And they will stay empty.
Humans didn't belong in cages. I glanced at the silver key again, and then with all my might, swung my arm behind my head and tossed it, as hard as I could, out the narrow window. Never again will that key ever be used to lock a kid up. The cages will always remain empty, forevermore.
Footsteps thudded across the floor. We all stiffened and stared wide-eyed at the door. Someone was coming our way, and judging from the footsteps, it was a full-grown man.
I spun around wildly, looking for a place to hide, but this room was barren. There was nothing else to do except to face the enemy.
I swept Alexa behind me and stepped up, eyeing the door, my hands clammy. I knew how to scratch and bite.
And a suddenly random thought popped up in my head, out of nowhere. I knew how to scratch and bite because I was taught how to, as an apprentice. They taught me how to fight and wound and maim and kill. ThunderClan raised me and showed me how to shed blood.
I snapped to attention and readied my fists as the door swung open, revealing two men, the fat one and the thin one, standing in the doorway. Their eyes widened in surprise when they saw all the kids standing there, unrestrained, and then their faces quickly contorted as they readied to fight.
Freedom was in our reach. No matter what happened, I would get these children out. I wouldn't be another disappointment in their hearts.
They took menacing steps toward us and I raised my fist, but before any of us could charge, the thin man's eyes rolled up to the back of his head and he stood there, swaying, before crumpling to the ground. The same thing happened to the other one.
I clasped my hands over my mouth in pure relief and happiness when I saw Heath standing behind them, his knuckles huge and beefy as he stared down at the men he had knocked out.
"Sorry you had to wait so long," he said, smirking. "Old Glory died along the way, so we had to make the rest of the trip on foot."
The kids were huddling behind me, but they slowly glanced up when they realized that I was no longer trembling.
One of them stared, wide-eyed, at the unmoving men sprawled out on the floor.
"Are...are they dead?" she asked timidly.
Harry's head popped up from behind the doorway. "Nope," he chirped. "Just unconscious. They're breathing, see?"
"You saved us!" I cried. Alexa bounded up to meet him.
He grinned. "Yup. And look who else is here."
Jackie teetered on unsteady feet as she appeared, her hands covering her mouth in surprise when she saw her little sister.
She asked nervously, "Alexa?" just to make sure it was really her. The little girl dashed up to her in a blur and they were reunited again, sweeping each other off their feet and hugging tightly with both arms.
"Blimey," Heath grunted. "You act as if you haven't seen each other in years."
Harry warned, "Don't ruin the moment."
The giant folded his arms across his large chest, his eyes grazing over the crowd of children. They shrank back and whimpered as his hardened stare scorched into them. It took me a while to realize that he was looking for someone.
"She here?" he asked softly.
I clenched my hands and hung my head. I didn't want to break the bad news to him. I shook my head, refusing to look up, not wanting to see the heartbroken look on his face.
After a moment of silence, I glanced up.
He nodded, slowly. His icy eyes gave away no emotions. "S'okay," he said. "I know that Angela won't be coming back."
He shifted his feet and straightened his back, his mouth set in a grim line. His brow furrowed. "Do you think...that she...?"
"Yeah. She'll be so proud of you," I said.
Brandon skirted into the room, his bare feet pattering against the ground, his breath coming in gasps.
He looked and surveyed the mass of children, the clutter of empty cages with their metal doors swung wide open. He caught my eye, and I caught his, and we both grinned.
"I checked the other parts of the building," he said. "There's no one else. Let's go!"
The pounding of numerous feet echoed around the hallways like a stampede. They couldn't conceal their smiles, their laughter, and some of them were hugging and holding hands. Brandon and I led the way, not holding hands but sprinting side-by-side together.
We skidded around a corner, and he yelled, "This way!"
The wide, front door beamed at us, only a dozen yards away, swung wide open and letting golden light pour in. Soft, warm light from the sun.
All of us dashed toward it like frantic mice from a hole, like birds beating their wings against the thin bars of their metal cages, the taste of freedom singing against every flap of their feathers. I reached out my arm toward the door, laughing, and right when we were about to fly out-
A man stepped in front of it, blocking our way, his arms hairy and his beard unshaven.
Heath swore under his breath as the children gasped and scrambled behind us.
It the man was unarmed, we could've taken him out easily, but resting in his right hand, his fingers running over its shiny surface, was a pistol. It gleamed and shone in the light like polished black silver, a different sort of key.
Brandon gently pushed me back. "Get behind me," he whispered.
I glared at him, not wanting to move. We had to face this together.
The man stared at us, his eyes glinting with amusement. "You managed to save all twenty four of these kiddies," he smiled, revealing yellowed teeth. "I'm proud of you, honey. I really am." He raised his hand and cocked the gun right at us, his finger hovering over the trigger. "But I can't let you leave. Which one should I shoot first?"
Harry was squeezing Jackie's hand tightly, his face twisted in anger.
I stared at the gun that was aimed toward us, at the piece of metal glaring daggers and ready to spit out venom, and the man who held it only blinked slowly, calmly.
And to think that I came all this way for nothing.
The man's arm shifted and the gun's aim was now resting on...Brandon. He was the one standing in the very front.
The unmistakable bang of the gun rocketed the entire room into a flurry of screams, the noise pounding again and again against the walls.
I sucked in my breath and scrambled toward him, my arms flung out wide, trying to get to the bullet before it got him. I was willing to stand in front of him and take the bullet for him, or maybe push him out of the way, but the back of my mind clicked and I realized that there was no way, no way that I would reach him in time. The bullet was faster than a blur and I choked out, "No!" and Brandon, oh Brandon, at that split second of time he had left, turned his eyes toward me, his warm hazel eyes, to see me for the last time.
The bullet of the gun should have sliced into him, burrowed its way into his chest like a parasite and tear him apart, but it never did. It couldn't have, because at that last second, a dark gray blur rocketed itself toward him and barreled him out of the way, sending him flying to the side.
The bullet zinged past and buried itself into the floor, a thin swirl of smoke floating upward from its ghost.
I scrambled toward Brandon and inspected him, but he was alright, he was okay, only a bit winded from the collision of the ground.
I hugged him.
"I'm fine," he gasped. "But what was that-"
He broke off when the man with the gun began hopping on one foot, yelling. It would be comedic if it weren't for the fact that he had tried to kill someone.
"What the heck is that?" he hollered. "What's scrambling up my pant leg?!"
A trace of a transparent tail matted with dark grey fur could be seen waving from behind him, the rest of its body clinging on tightly to his jeans.
The man was distracted. With one quick, smooth motion, I slid forward and yanked the gun out of his grasp, flinging it to the far side where it couldn't be reached.
"Wha-?" The man swung his head around and glared at me, opening his mouth to spew a flurry of curse words in my direction, but Heath's booming voice grunted, "Tired of your sick jokes," and with one hearty blow to the back of his head, the man collapsed onto the ground, the words on his tongue still half formed.
Harry kicked the unconscious man, the head turning limply. Harry cringed. "Ugh, that's going to leave a swelling the size of a goose egg."
There was a period of suspended silence. And then, one by one, the children raced toward the doorway like a stream of swallows returning home after a harsh winter. They clapped their hands, they grinned, they laughed and spun each other around, feeling the sun embracing their shoulders and leaving golden flecks in their hair.
"We did it!" I gasped, my body warming up after spending so much time in the darkness.
Brandon wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight, and after a while let me go. "No," he said quietly. "You did it. Thank you, Ashley."
We stood their grinning like idiots, shuffling awkwardly with the children dancing and twirling around us, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a movement in the bushes.
It was a she-cat crouching there, her fur matted and tangled, her battle-scarred face staring intently at me. A tiny swath of glowing things on her fur suggested burnt out stars.
I turned and sprinted away, saying to Brandon, "Wait here. I need to talk to someone."
I crouched down to Yellowfang and she stared up with half-lidded eyes. When she said nothing, I reached out a hand to stroke her, but she only flattened herself and hissed slightly.
After a while, she looked up into my eyes and I saw all of the destruction and heartbreak and memories stored in there.
She rasped, "I'm sorry I misjudged you."
I shrugged.
She continued, "I wish I could apologize more, but I only have one tongue to say it with, so it would be impossible. But Firestar was right."
Her half-lidded eyes opened wide and flashed fiercly. She staggered to her tired feet. "Firestar had been right about you all along. I was the only one who was too foolish and blind to see it after all this time."
I gently urged, "Hey, don't say that. You're wise."
"Oh." She closed her eyes and wheezed, huffing, almost like a sort of chuckle. "Oh, you have no idea how wrong I have been. Firestar sees a lot of things. He sees your strength, your wisdom, your power, and he knows your heart. You have a kind heart, Shadefrost." I blushed at her words.
"And you know what?" she rasped. "You are brave."
I staggered backward, shocked. "W-what? N-no, I-"
"Shut up and listen," she said, her old temper flaring up, but the glint of amusement still in her deep amber eyes. "Ashley, you are brave. You are courageous, dashing, fearless, valiant-"
I shook my head. "No, please don't say that. I really-"
She stood up. "You are brave. Never forget that. I will keep repeating it over and over again until you have it burned into your mind. You are StarClan's chosen cat, the rightful Guardian of the Lake, the Saviour of the Clans, and right now, we need you. We need you back. I should have never sent you away."
I slowly processed her words.
Slowly, I said, "You abandoned me. You turned me back into a Twoleg and dumped me here, not even in my right house. You left me behind with not so much as a glance back, and now you're here, telling me stuff, pretending that all that never happened?" I was a bit angry, but more dejected and heartbroken.
"I'm not a tool that you can just throw away or forget whenever you don't need it!" I spat. "Or is it because I'm a human, that you don't care about how I feel?"
I expected Yellowfang to shoot back, but she only hung her head, looking like a frayed and withered leaf. "I apologized already," she said. "And I will continue to do so, until you have forgiven me. I told you, Ashley, I was so wrong. Will you forgive me?"
I blinked, and forced my angry emotions to fade away. "Of course," I said softly.
I glanced back at the others, who were busy rolling in the grass and playing with the little kids.
"But what about them?" I asked.
"You did your duty here. They don't need to ask anything else from you. It's time to go."
"Yeah, but..." I looked at Brandon.
Without looking back, I quickly sprinted toward him.
"Where are you going?" Yellowfang meowed. "The portal won't be able to stay open forever! It's beginning to close!"
"Just a minute."
I slowed down as I neared Brandon, and he smiled. I smiled back, a sad one. I saw that his hand was slightly outstretched, offering to hold mine.
I let him and squeezed it tightly, not wanting to let go.
After a while, my throat closed up, and I croaked, "You...remember that Lake I was talking about?"
He nodded.
"Well...I remember the way back now." He blinked at me softly, his warm hazel eyes downcast, but he didn't let go of my hand.
"You want to leave?" he asked.
"I have to go. They need me." I blinked away the water from my eyes, and he looked up at the horizon, where the sun had risen, staring at something far, far away.
I squeezed his hand tighter. He whispered, "If you want to go, then I won't stop you." But it wasn't an angry voice. It was a sad one, an 'I thought you would stay here forever' voice.
While the tears streamed down my face, he gathered me up and hugged me with all his might. I trembled, trying to choke back the tears, but I couldn't.
I felt a small hand tug me. "Ashley?" Alexa asked. "What's wrong?"
I pulled away from Brandon and wiped my eyes. I stared down at the little girl with the big, wide worried eyes. "I have to go back home," I said.
She saddened. "You're leaving us?"
I nodded, my throat dry. Jackie strolled toward us, wandering what was happening, and pretty soon, Heath, Harry, Alexa, Jackie, Harry, Brandon, and I were huddled together in a group hug, some of us snuffling with tears.
Harry wiped his eyes with his shirt and smiled. "We're all crying now," he gasped. "What is this, National Crying Day?" But then his voice faltered and he said, "I don't want you to go."
"I have to," I said. "My family needs me."
Heath grabbed me into a hug, knocking the wind out of my lungs and nearly breaking my spine with his elephant trunk arms.
"Little girl," the beast said, staring down at me. "Don't ever forget us. And thank you."
I grinned up at him.
Brandon cleared his throat and stretched his empty hand toward me. I took it, and he led me away from the others, on our last stroll together.
Our hands were clasped tightly together, and he didn't mind at all that mine were always clammy. We listened to the hush of the grass and the singing of the birds.
After some time of silence, he asked, "Will I see you again?"
And I shook my head, no.
And Snowstorm's bones wouldn't like it, if he saw me and Brandon climbing down the hill with our hands held tightly together.
"You did good, Ashley," Brandon said as he made our way back.
"You too," I said.
I let go of his hand for the last time, and then asked, "Do you have a lighter with you?"
"Heath does. What, do you need a cigarette?"
I laughed. "No, I don't smoke. I want you to burn down the building. Get the three men out before you do, though. No sense in burning them alive. Burn the building down to ashes. I don't want any more kids getting locked up in there."
"Will do," he said.
OooOooOOoOooOOOOOoOOOoOooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoo
I looked back one last time before the bushes swallowed me up. I saw Jackie twirling Alexa around, smiling, Harry joking with Heath, the children running about and screaming with joy. It looked like a scene from a fairy tale. Brandon was standing on top the hill, surveying the area, possibly looking for somebody. This wasn't the first time that I had to leave some friends behind.
It's been good, these times I had spent with them, these past few weeks.
I wanted to remember this scene for the rest of my life. Turning away, I hurried over to Yellowfang.
"Took enough time," she grumbled, but then blinked, as if she understood.
"The Moonpool is barely holding itself open," she said. "If you didn't come for a few more minutes, it would have closed and you wouldn't be able to get back. Come on." She flicked her tail, and I followed.
I blinked, and then I wasn't in the city anymore. I was suspended in a large, black area filled with nothing but darkness, like the beginning of the universe.
"You ready?" she rasped. I nodded.
A blinding white flash exploded inside me with the fury of a billion stars and I jerked back, gasping air into my lungs, as the pain seared and tore my insides apart. My limbs felt like being pulled away from my body, and then they were being crushed. It felt like being run over by a tank, and then my legs and arms were stretched like rubber bands. I felt myself shrinking, and with a final burst of electricity, everything became still and I floated down from the empty void, exhausted, my eyes closed.