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Track 01 - Fear and Resilience (Danger Mouse Remix) by Pedro
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{Thursday: Dusk – BHHS, City Central}
"I'm pretty sure your Dad won't be happy you got arrested."
"Detained," Stiles clarified holding a single finger up, "Not arrested. Detained and this is just a formality."
"Okay," Scott shifted uncomfortably in his seat under the watchful eyes of yet another pacing Deputy, "but this feels a lot like being arrested."
Stiles gave him a weak smile, "has your Mom called back?"
"I've called her twice," Scott shook his head. "She might be assisting with a procedure but I'm pretty sure when my Mom gave me a pass for 'magical stunts' she didn't mean to demolish the school."
In the gap while they waited for Deputies to move out of listening range they smiled awkwardly, they looked mildly guilty. It helped that the damage done to the library was subjectively minimal; as a result of a few shelves (granted, very large shelves) cracked apart from the force of Isaac pushing Stiles through them. To be fair, it had been for his benefit, the moment Isaac noticed Jacksons' fangs extending and his fingers curling into claws he knew to avoid those set of poisonous sharp digits. Pretty sure Stiles didn't have that same foreknowledge. The leap did push them out of harm's way unfortunately, it cracked apart several bookshelves leaving Stiles, Scott, and Allison with a few injuries, mostly Isaac. The toppling shelves fortunately blockaded Mr. Harris in the storage room. But when the dust settled Jackson vanished.
Almost at once, the Argents had someone on the scene once the officers started pouring in and Allison was whisked away without so much as a goodbye. Sealed away into the back of her Father's Hatchback less than 20ft away, the men who came to collect her and analyze the scene (the men Allison warned were 'Cleaners') were exactly what he had grown up envisioning Hunters to be; burly, brisk and intentionally intimidating.
Scott looked miserably down at the ground when he was trying his best not to look toward the Hatchback, trying not to stare and memorize the make, (a Mazda) or the model (3i in dark crystal) or even try and stare through the tinted windows... No, because something like that would make it obvious that he had a connection with the girl inside. If he kept staring as if he could see straight through the metal of the door, then they would know something tied the two of them and things would end up more dire than an awkward family dinner.
Just as the vehicle carrying Allison pulled out, the Sheriff's Cruiser pulled in. Stiles shot up in his seat and hadn't noticed in his fumbling to get over Scott he tripped harder against Scott's shins. He winced in pain but held onto Stiles' arm, carrying him across because if one of them deserved to be united with their parent right now it was definitely Stiles.
"Where's My Son?" the Sheriff shouted. He had barely turned off the car and though he called out at the top of his lungs, somehow it didn't seem loud enough.
"Dad!" Stiles stumbled to his feet and pushed past a Deputy, using a little more force than needed. "Dad! I'm over here!" He finished his sentence wrapping his arms around his Dad's shoulders.
For a man who had no supernatural power in him he certainly exhibited supernatural strength with how fiercely he clutched his son.
"I'm alright Dad," Stiles reassured a few times, "I'm right here." Whatever reservations over hugs earlier felt burned away with need to assure them of the other's security. When he struggled out of his Dad's death grip he explained "and the school didn't burn down."
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Tyhurst drove her home. She was uncertain if this was best. Her Father staying behind at the school left the Sheriff's department in the best hands, however that left her in the hands of the least sympathetic person at a rather vulnerable moment and where she felt least likely to come up with a decent cover story.
"How many students were there again?"
"Mr. Harris has the whole list," she stared out the window. She ignored the glare she felt towards the back of her head. "I feel pretty out of it from being knocked around, there were at least three. Maybe less, maybe more." They, the 'US' they, the non-Hunters. Isaac had been the most injured and they needed him to recover unseen from Hunters' eyes or he would be outed in a second.
"And the locker room incident?"
Alright now there she couldn't cover for Isaac, Allison thought. And she couldn't stall the next 5 minutes it would take to get home. Not without faking a coma.
"I went in to get prepared for gym and one of the students, the one suspected before of developing abilities, showed aggressive behavior. When I defended myself- well, some stuff happened."
Tyhurst grunted. Well, he hadn't exactly grunted; it was more of a low release of breath like the passive-aggressive deflating of a tire. Well, two could play at that game.
"I'm sure I reported Rumy about this student before. He does have a higher rank than you," she made a sound like a grunt while readjusting in her seat. "We might as well have a Family Meeting and talk about it." She'd put it a pin in this interrogation for now.
"As soon we get home."
That would be in 3 minutes. She needed to get a hold of Scott and Stiles to get their stories straight. She needed to get a hold of Isaac to see if he got somewhere safe to heal up.
"As soon as my Father gets home," she sat up to look him in the eye and corrected his statement.
He nodded stiffly. That would buy her some more time. Then she would report on Jackson in full, report to the 'Them' not the 'Us' and she didn't feel very sorry because Jackson had put her friends in danger. Rumy would support her, but he wouldn't cover her ass so there would be some eating crow. The Meeting wouldn't be half as bad as the anticipation toward it.
1 minute more till home. She could see Bennet in the driveway, and she could swear Tyhurst had slowed down. It was agony.
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"Who's Miguel?" the Sheriff asked for the second time.
"I am," Stiles answered for the second time.
The Sheriff rubbed his neck. The sign in sheet for the library read like a who's who of a Three Stooges script: From 'I. P. Freely' to 'Deez Nuts'.
"Why're you sign-in as Miguel?"
"I didn't want to bring shame on the family," Stiles explained as if it were the simplest thing in the universe. "You know, getting detention before I'm even attending."
"They will recognize you once you're in their class," his Dad reminded.
"Yes, but will it be me or my evil Spanish cousin from down south, who was responsible for tearing up the library," Stiles' hands gestured in small nervous rotations while he spoke but his eyes were intent on his Dad's face.
"Have you been hit in the head? Is this a concussion?" his Dad nodded along in deep concentration.
"Yes. I don't think so."/ "Totally. Probably"
Stiles and Scott gave the Sheriff different answers. The Sheriff shook his head in relief. He gave off waves of dismay but far less than moments earlier. Whether Stiles' babbling had been intentional or from nerves, either way they did wonders for his Dad's temperament. Not his nerves but they brought down his distress.
After Stiles assured his Dad that he was perfectly safe, practically across the school in the library when the incident happened the babbling started. He seemed to fairly okay at lying but the sitting with the lie afterward made him twitchy. Regards to the destruction the in the locker room, Stiles tried to excuse the destruction as faulty fixtures. Weeks earlier, when Scott had some difficulty during one of his earliest full moon, he had made false complaints about faulty structures in the locker room after destroying some property. Fortunately, those held up now and Scott pointed them out to the Sheriff.
"Alright, alright" Sheriff Stilinski conceded with a sigh. Whether he accepted their reasoning as fact would stand to be seen but until then "this is going to take a while to clean up. I'll see you two safely home in a few. Why don't you sit in the car."
It was in no way a question and Scott was too intimidated to say 'no', Stiles started to but his Dad placed a hand on the back of his head and lowered him into the back seat. He gave them a kindly smile before closing the door behind him.
"The doors don't open from the inside, do they?" Scott asked.
Stiles rattled the door handle several times. Nothing. He shrugged over at Scott. They were confined to the back seat of the Sheriff's Cruiser unless they broke the door, which neither would dream of doing. Stiles' Dad would kill them.
After observing that even the school was not a safe place, he placed both Scott and Stiles in the back of the police car, the Sheriff could now put his mind the business at hand. He marveled that he couldn't leave them alone for one day without the two of them getting their hands dirty. Although they both protested the Sheriff insisted, they stay in the car until he could see them home himself after he finished taking statements.
"Who's that?" Stiles mumbled into the curve of Scott's ear. He didn't take a liking to the man hanging off of his Dad's arm, much in the way he hung off of Scott's.
"That's Allison's Father," Scott's frown deepened while they both overheard the report between the authorities.
"So, he's not just any Hunter. He's a head guy."
Scott nodded. From across the parking lot, they heard the Sheriff tell Chris the shattered door at the library's rear entrance wasn't surprising since there had been several other recent break-ins. It could have been part of today's damage or done weeks ago. The same M.O. had been seen at the First National Bank, the second at the "Municipal Records" building, then in the administration office at the high school, the middle school, and the elementary school.
Scott turned to Stiles. "Do you think we should text Allison?"
"I don't- I don't know! Don't they report to each other?" he turned from startled too very quiet and thoughtful. Scott stared at him expecting an answer, but Stiles stared at the floor of the car intently.
"Stiles? If the library door is shattered the exact same way as these other places than that means Jackson is breaking into places..., is he like some super-powered burglar?" Scott shifted around to face Stiles fully. "He didn't know what he was doing in the library. I saw the way he changed, and I've seen how out of it he's been around school. Could he be stealing for someone else and not know it?"
Stiles shook his head slowly, when he looked up again, he twisted his neck around to look over at his Dad and keep as many Hunters in his eye line as possible. He narrowed his eyes, intently analyzing, memorizing faces while he pursed his lips in thought. "It doesn't sound like he's trying to steal something. It sounds like he's trying to find someone. Everything else is collateral damage."
Scott leaned back in the seat and put an arm along the back of the head rest, his posture was easy, but his face said otherwise. He watched his friend's face, the way every thoughtful muscle ticked away, and it made every possibility seem easy whereas the world often froze for Scott, things slowed to a crawl when he realized control was so far away from him. He liked having Stiles around and envied that ticking nature even at its most overbearing because from time to time he could borrow a little of it.
"You mean everyone else," Scott corrected quietly, rubbing a thumb across his lower lip.
"What?" Stiles whipped around face him. He noted the demeanor change and took a moment to reevaluate. Admittedly, if he did put more thought into his words, there would be significantly less foot-in-mouth disease to suffer but then he would also speak significantly less altogether. Stiles slid back into the seat across from his friend, propping his feet up on the combination of their backpack on the floor and curled into something of a pupa. "I'm sorry, Man," he stared up at the ceiling for the right thing to say, then back at Scott then back at the ceiling, "You are not collateral damage. If anything, you guys are collateral homage."
"Don't be sorry," Scott chuckled, then he lightly shoved at Stiles' shoulder and pulled him closer. Or rather factually Stiles toppled against him. "We're going to stop him. But first, we've got to get everyone working together."
Three sharp chinks, the unexpected sound of Lydia's ring tapped against the window. Her face dipped into the view and stepped back, the sudden appearance made both of them nearly jump out of their skin. A moment later she was back, there came a loud click followed by the door opening a few inches for her to peek her head through.
"Do you want to stay in there all night?" she asked with a smooth inflectionless voice but an expression rift with suggestion, "Or do you want to come with me to find a body?"
Stiles had already detangled, strapped his backpack on and had one foot out of the door when Scott asked, "like a dead body?"
Lydia and Stiles looked back at him incredulously "no, a body of water." He grabbed at Scott's arm to start moving his ass, "Yes, a dead body!"
All they had to do was to walk with silent and steady conviction and they wouldn't attract attention. They had to remain unremarkable.
"How did you do -?" Scott marveled after Lydia's feat at releasing them without breaking the car door.
"Well, it opens from the outside, genius" Lydia explained with a strained expression, shoving his free arm through the strap of his backpack. Not for the first time she reminded herself not to strangle him because that would bring attention to them. She looked to Stiles; from the roll of his eyes, she could see he shared her sentiment.
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Track 02 - Honest by The Neighborhood
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"You could hold me here until my parents collect me but that would be a bit morbid" Isaac suggested.
Deputy Parrish picked up quickly on the implication, "care to expand?"
"Orphan, me" Isaac thought of going for the 'who has 2 thumbs and no living parents' joke but that felt like it might be a little bit over the top.
After escaping to girl's bathroom which, thanks to Lydia, he'd come to know to be pretty unused, he hid away to do the most of his healing in private. A broken limb, dislocated jaw and some internal bleeding now looked like a little bruising at best. Isaac rejoined the medics once every wound closed up and stopped bleeding. With his name and student OSIS added into the library sign in and it would be stupid to run off, and cause staff to go looking for him, so he figured at least stick around until the Deputy took his statement. Apparently, he hadn't been the only student to claim a knock on the head skewed their recollection. He stood among the illustrious ranks of Allison Argent, Scott McCall and the artist known only as Miguel.
"Well, we've reached an impasse," the Deputy smiled and shook his head. "We can't release you without a parent and I won't be ushering you off to meet your folks in the afterlife anytime soon. I guess I'll check with the Sheriff and see where we can place you in the meantime."
"Not a problem," Isaac gave an exaggerated shrug because it was very much a problem. This was not the right way to make a first impression on his foster brother's Dad. "I'm supposed to be at his house for dinner tonight anyway," at that he wished the floor would just open up and swallow him up before he opened his mouth again. The Deputy repeated exactly what Isaac explained over the walkie-talkie and Isaac felt something akin to 'first date; meeting the folks' jitters, except everyone had guns and he realized he might never get out of there alive.
The Sheriff requested that Isaac was kept where he was. In like Scott and Stiles had a better go of escaping. Unfortunately for Isaac this meant he would be saddled with a babysitter until Sheriff Stilinski had a minute to question him directly. Fortunately, the babysitters rotated from one Deputy to the next. Some were more attentive than others. All Isaac had to do was wait for one careless officer.
Once Deputy Haige turned his back on him Isaac bolted. It wasn't classy or smart, but he panicked. The longer he sat around waiting for the Sheriff the more Hunters he counted with the officers and the more he sensed all of his friends were gone. So, he was off like a shot.
The idea of dinner with Stiles stayed fresh in his mind, not that he anticipated a sit down three course extravaganzas, but he couldn't think of where to start looking for anyone. He held onto the hope that when he agreed to meet Stiles at his home afterschool it held fast even after 'evil hybrid snake man attack'. He entered the Stilinskis' home through the garage, a thing he was getting used to and realized the place felt way too empty. When the landline rang, he was frightened out of his skin. He only picked up because the caller ID said, "BH Sheriff's Dept." and he wasn't brave enough to tempt fate much farther. His ear filled with the dulcet tones of an irate Sheriff demanding to know where his son and idiot friend disappeared to. Isaac would have given so much to know the answer to that.
Isaac faked a cough, banged on a cabinet door, and shouted hold on a sec after he dropped the phone. Then he dropped the phone to be authentic. Isaac yanked his cell phone from his jeans, hoping the water damage from the earlier grapple in the locker room had abated, tried to turn it on. When it finally lit up and he began to text Scott or Stiles to ask what happened, instead he discovered an urgent unread message from Lydia.
"Lydia's! They went to Lydia's," he explained. "We were all supposed to go there after school for studying. After everything that's happened, we just figured we might as well go there anyway, eat some of her Mom's cooking, catch up with some work until all that stuff blows over."
"Then why are you in my house?"
"Smart question. Good question, I'd be asking that too..." Isaac smacked himself in the head with his cell phone and thought what would Stiles do? Then remembered who he was thinking about, "unless I had a son like Stiles and figured he wasn't exactly the sort of kid who thought ahead. He said to meet him here, but didn't, he went there but he asked me to grab a couple of essentials while I'm here."
"I see. Hey son, while you're at it," the Sheriff said it so casually and Isaac's spine stiffened ramrod straight. Was Stiles' Dad always this nice even when he was pissed off? Were Dads like that? "He has trouble sleeping, could you bring him a pillow from home."
"Yeah," Isaac quieted significantly, "Will do, sir."
Isaac hung up and leaned his head against the doorframe while he calmed his breath. Lying to the cops was a thing he didn't altogether have a problem with but lying to parents always made him go cold all over.
When he could think clearer, he went through all his unread text and caught up with things. Such a great big mess of things.
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Track 03 - Who Are We by Imagine Dragons
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{Meanwhile – Argent's House, Westwood Neighborhood}
To Allison's joy Tyhurst was disinvited to dinner. Unfortunately, so was Rumy and Bennet, immediate family only. For that Allison was even less prepared; the strained joviality gave her a headache and she already had a head wound. Okay, not a wound exactly but there was a pretty big bump.
In a stilted silence in anticipation Victoria and Allison set up the table together. Chris turned up bedraggled and upset but mostly bedraggled. They still had to wait another 10 minutes for Kate. Kate tried to make light of it, she made light of everything and brought dessert and drinks and teased Allison relentlessly with sexual innuendoes at every opportunity.
But Victoria Argent was quick to cut to the chase, not that she wasn't happy to have Kate around, but they needed her insights.
"Especially on your expertise; Chris' personal history made him ideal for working the Beacon Hills angle, but we thought your history towards a specific pack would come in handy now. The Hales."
At the mention of "Hale" Kate became incredibly sedate.
"Well, I didn't think you would have summoned me for anything less," she smirked, lifting her wine glass at the stem between two fingers and shifting her hand around like she could hold the room in her crosshairs, "if even one of them turned up at their Beacon Hills properties, then they've broken my treaty." Victoria broke in with a delicate clearing of her throat, Kate continued. "If they've broken our treaty than I'm duty bound to break some heads."
"We've been going through this looking at causations. It seemed territorial at first, but no one lay claim to the attacks. So far the types of victims have been narrowed down to two fields: Werewolves and Children."
Allison started biting her nails. She knew all this already; most of it she uncovered on her own, but it weirded her out to watch her Father speak candidly. It must have been a sibling thing. Victoria noticed from one seat over and after a moment set her hand down on top of the table palm up so that Allison could hold it. She flashed her Mother a quick grin of thanks before sliding her hand on top.
"I think we're done with dinner Chris," Victoria said with forced kindness, "maybe we should take this to the study." By study she of course meant the impenetrable panic room they used for private meetings.
"I have to confess since we've arrived it hasn't been nostalgia that's kept me here," Chris heaved a sigh and finished his glass of wine.
"Jeez, Chris, I would hope not," Kate scoffed.
"We didn't want just any amateur coming through here missing the details. And I've been trying to prove this suspicion definitively wrong especially after the last bloody mess we had to clean up." When Chris talked across the table he spoke as if only he and Kate were in the room.
Kate lost all false cheer, and she downed her drink before he had even finished speaking.
"Aren't you supposed to say 'find the hard evidence', not 'prove the suspicion' or has someone at this table got a furry friend out in the deep dark night," she laughed with no humor in it, Chris smirked in return. With a sigh Kate pushed out from the table and got to her feet, "lead the way, Victoria."
They left their dishes alone and meals half eaten.
Once the doors sealed off any sound or cell signal, Kate turned all business and asked to see what proof they collected. With trigger words like 'Hale' now familiar to her ears Allison paid more attention.
"Just within Beacon County; 15 confirmed dead. 8 of which were confirmed as bi-pedal shapeshifters. 9 if we count this last one- which right now we don't since the MO is vastly different-" started Chris.
"The first person of interest's method of murder has been constant going back further than these few months. Allison has collected evidence that the Sheriff has investigated similar events going as far back as 6 years possibly, but the details are sketchy." Victoria pulled open compartments along the length of the conference table. She laid out several dossiers written up for specific incidents. "But this is of note; the body yesterday," she pointed out the location where the body was found, "this is why we called you in. This new person of interest, their MO; the scene was staged to look like the first POI. Not only wasn't it finished but the area was dusted with Trailing White Monkshood. A perfectly mixed airborne mist: only Hunters and Emissaries know how to make a combination precise enough to be non-lethal to us and only be a hallucinogen to them. Our recent corpse, he didn't have any of it in his lungs. He was murdered, brought there and unsupernatural someone disrupted the area before they could make it look like our first person of interest had done it."
"How many more murders do you think could have been set up like this successfully underneath this first murderer's trail?" Allison came forward, she leaned over, straight-armed and hands planted on the edge of the table, her hair fell forward while she searched thankfully masking the fever of panic that colored her face.
"One? All of them? We don't know, but now that we know about the second murderer, we can dig deeper-" her Father always had a comfort and control to his voice. He had appeared behind her and had a hand on her shoulder to help steady her on.
"-now I go deeper. I get to identify this guy here." Kate tapped the screen on Victoria's tablet and spread the crime scene photo, past the clutter of officers and lookie-loos to enlarge. The shadow image in the background was far too grainy to help by way of identification.
"And since your Aunt Kate is an outside guy, we know we can trust her because she is not an inside guy," Chris said quickly but not too quickly. Allison played the sentence several times over in her head to really catch it.
"Soo, we think a Hunter might have helped the second killer? Is that why no one else was at dinner?" Allison's mind whirled a bit and she felt suddenly like she knew what Lydia must have felt like to stand on that spring coil trap.
"Or an emissary. Or anyone who has a dangerously minimal knowledge of the extraordinary application of herbs," Victoria looked up from the paperwork and eyed her from across the table. Her words sounded soothing but the rest of her said 'Just do the work. Get results. Then it will be better. Not that it will feel better, but it will be better.'
Allison took a breath and stared back down at the work in front of her, maps and murder, more maps, and more murder.
"Hello handsome," Kate smirked regardless. After a moment's pause she stood up and crossed her arms, her focus regained, "I'm going to try and get the guy a pauper's grave if I can't convince them to release it to me. I'll get the I.D. you need and clean it up, big Brother."
"You sure?" Chris asked as if there were another out.
She winked across the great oval divide that was their mahogany conference table, "I've got this. I am the expert on Derek Hale after all."
Everyone seemed to acknowledge there was a shift behind the reveal, the name even unsettled something in the back of Allison's mind. It was shaking lose something in her mind shelf, but she couldn't recall.
Kate took an extended pause before she pointed out "it is less likely that the Hales broke a treaty and more likely someone used Derek's death as a sacrifice to create a new treaty among packs." Her tone was chilling, and she asked what other evidence they collected front the scene to support their claim and Allison's Mom produced her personal tablet.
Victoria smiled at her encouragingly and brought up another folder on the tablet for her to peruse when the object promptly powered down and died. Startled, she looked down at it as though the thing had exploded as opposed to having not have been charged.
"Did you charge it?" Chris suggested.
Victoria glared at him, "I haven't used it."
"Something drained its battery," he walked over and tried to look it over for a defect. Victoria slapped his hand away and grabbed a charger from a drawer beneath the table.
"I used it," Kate lied and grimaced in apology, "it was right there on the table. I thought it was Chris' I'm sorry, I logged on earlier because I was curious to track of Chris' personal observations on Beacon Hills. I must have not turned it off afterward." She glanced toward Allison in sheepish false recognition, but Allison just looked down at the table.
"Why do you keep hacking my things?" Chris tried for a straight face, then gave up and groaned.
"Think of a password that doesn't revolve around your fantasy baseball league and I wouldn't have to," Kate grinned. Quite soon afterward she pointed out Allison had school in the morning and probably needed to call it a night.
Victoria hugged her daughter lightly and kissed her forehead. Chris kissed his daughter's cheek. Kate squeezed Allison good and long and promised they would need to have a real catch-up soon, where they could talk about boys and everything. Allison had forgotten how to say the word goodnight.
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Track 04 - Werewolf (I Like You) by Sky Ferreira
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{Along the backroads between City Central to the Beacon Hills Preserve}
Once they managed to slip into student parking unnoticed, they split into two groups: Scott for his bike and Lydia for her Beetle. She had just turned the car on when the passenger side door swung open when Stiles filled in the seat before she thought to use the power locks. It was hardly the time to discuss invasion of privacy pending the priority of escaping police custody unnoticed. Maneuvering the car through alternative routes from the school and onto the highway ran smooth, but there was of course Stiles to contend with. Beacon Hills Preserve
He could have ridden on the back of Scott's bike, she thought, they seemed cozy enough in the back of the Sheriff's Cruiser. Instead, she endured Stiles' distemper with the dashboard, tapping in tandem, adjusting and readjusting his seat, fussing with the seat belt, and having it nearly snap him in the face, fighting with the radio.
Finally, Lydia reached over with a steady hand and turned off the car radio, "-or you can ruin the settings in your own car."
"Why-what?" he looked offended at the suggestion she might not covet his attention. When she didn't smile, he righted himself and added sincerely, "I just came 'cause wanted to make sure you got there safely."
"Scott is exactly 50 feet behind on his bike. You two can look out for me from there," she pointed to Scott through the mirror without taking her eyes off of the road.
"On his donor cycle?" Stiles whipped his head around to look through the rear window at the dodging silhouette then toward Lydia, his expression unconvinced, "he doesn't even know where we're going. Plus, teen drivers these days are statistically the least reliable to find their way in the dark."
"He says to the teen driver," she muttered, "driving without direction in the dark through a Nature Preserve with the goal of meeting up with a dead body." She tapped the forefinger of her right hand on the wheel incrementally with the rise of her tone.
"Right," Stiles readjusted and looked toward the roof for a proper rebuttal, but none came.
"Then," Lydia's voice took an inarguable tone. She even took her eyes off the wheel to execute a superior glare, "wouldn't it have been smarter to follow in your Dad's car to make sure I didn't drive into a ditch?"
"-well, I..." Stiles exercised his jaw, his neck, his mind but no answer came forth, "uh, yeah, I did not think of that." Then he grinned hoping charm would win him brownie points instead of fury. She rolled her eyes and went back to staring straight ahead.
They zipped down streets, around corners while the streetlights made their profiles strange and colorful. She refused to be distracted from the road while Stiles aimed faces at her (instead of words) expressing with narrow-eyed, deep breath and lips-pursed sort of intense thoughts. On Repeat.
"Are you really not going to ask me?" at a red-light, Lydia bit her lower lip and hit the steering wheel lightly in frustration.
"Well, I'm not... no, what?" Stiles glanced around the car as if sensing a trap, followed with a narrowed eyed look.
Lydia glared briefly, "the question that you've been dying to ask me?"
"Pfft," Stiles looked off to the side, followed by another deep breath and lips pursed in thought, "Well, I'm not... I haven't been dying to ask anything. I... no questions here from Stiles. Nothing."
"I can see it on your face," Lydia shifted in her seat to move a little closer so that he had to face her. The light changed but she ignored it.
"Maybe my face just has, like," he turned to face her and tried for a smile, but it turned into a partial smirk, "a naturally interrogatory exp... expression."
"Well," she shook her head and with a grunt went back to driving, "your interrogatory expression is getting on my nerves."
Once they got away from the streetlights and there were less houses and people, she tried again.
"The answer is; I don't know why I am the one that keeps finding the bodies. I'm figuring it out." When she turned the cars direction and her hands moved one over the other, once, then twice, she didn't place them back at ten and two. She let her right hand fall balled up in her lap. Her thumb rubbed circles against the pinched fabric of her skirt.
He watched as her voice came across a little softer and her eyes seemed a little wilder in the dark. He had thought with his keen senses he could understand her better, and that if he continued to let her speak something mystical would manifest. She just sounded like Lydia. Which he liked the sound of, so he turned his head against the headrest, leaned toward her with every sense and kept listening.
"Maybe," she said the word like a wish, "if I stopped trying to fight it, I'd find them with enough time, I can help... like last time."
"Because the last time something like this happened...?"
She looked over at him for a split second, smiled very quickly before looking back to the road, "I found you."
Stiles beamed, "very not dead, which I'm grateful for."
"You could have fooled me," she scoffed softly, with her free hand she reached across and shoved playfully at his arm. He caught her half-hearted gesture, held her hand and placed it on the armrest between them. Running his thumb along her knuckles he coaxed her from shaky to stillness.
"What was different?" he asked after a little while when he felt her heart rate steady.
"It was you," she breathed out and the car slowed incrementally.
"Right?" Stiles confirmed with a grin. He urged her on with an emphatic pat on the hand, "We said that, keep up with me now."
"No," Lydia said and rolled her eyes, "that's what I heard in the woods." He could not know the weight that admission cost her. She waited for the sarcastic comment but there was none. She looked over to see his absurd face but found openness awaiting her lead, it moved her. "So, I followed. Us, I mean. Voices from back when we were little and playing tag and keep-away with your backpack."
Stiles smiled enthusiastically. "What do you normally hear?" he watched her intently and bounced a little in his seat. He had never dealt with someone like this before, he suspected to be a Banshee but much more importantly Lydia confided in him, which meant some part of her deep dark subconscious still wanted him around.
"I don't know, Stiles!" she reclaimed her hand as she turned the car into a bend. "This is untested territory for me. There is no normal!"
"Alright," Stiles threw his hands up in frustration. "Okay you didn't have to stop the car!"
"I did!" she groaned and yanked the keys from the ignition. She opened the door and climbed out. "We have to walk from here."
The woods. Again. Not the same entry location as before but that didn't give her anymore confidence. She wrapped herself tight in her wool coat and paused to text Isaac one last time when she still hadn't heard from Allison.
"Alright. Fine." He flung open the door and stumbled out after fighting with the seatbelt. "No more questions." He slammed the door closed, "except one more question."
"God. Stiles, what?" Barely stifling a grin, she came around the car to stand beside him while he battled with his backpack to get out a red hoodie from its depth.
"You said the last time we were here," he muttered zipping himself up against the inclement evening air, "all of bizarre and untested territory happening around Beacon Hills? When did you first notice?"
"6 months ago," Scott answered as he pulled his motorcycle alongside them and unclasped his helmet. "It all started that night, the night I got bitten."
.
Track 05 - Nitesky (feat. John LaMonica) by Robot Koch
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{Back at The Argent's House, 2nd Floor, Allison's BEdroom}
"How many of those do you own?!" Isaac complained in surprise when Allison appeared beside him with Chinese finger daggers in hand. Her raised eyebrow reminded him eloquently that he was hardly in a position to complain of surprises. She'd come into her bedroom to discover Isaac sat casually on her bed meanwhile her parents were right down the hall. She absolutely meant to spook him, so she'd instinctually armed herself as she crossed the floorboards and sat down silently beside him before he noticed she entered the room.
"I can watch out for myself," her grin strained when he explained that he came to check up on her.
"I've noticed, more than once," blinked Isaac as he conceded and pointed to the weapon still aimed at his rib.
"I'm still not leaving," Isaac cleared his throat when her grin turned to a smirk and her grip changed on the weapon, amused that he might have thrown down a challenge. "As per Lydia's instructions."
He brandished his cell phone in the air, a text from Lydia on display- "They shouldn't be left alone."- Allison put her weapon down and snatched his cellphone taking his singular defense away. She scrolled through the rest of the text where it had a screenshot of a page from the Bestiary and translations of the text.
"Lydia says she's been texting you for hours," Isaac gestured for her to hand back the phone. She ignored and re-read the information in hopes content would change.
Firstly, Lydia wanted everyone to check in and let her know that they were okay, since she sensed someone died earlier. 'Messily' she described it.
Secondly, with newly revealed two-murders theory everyone's 'alleged' innocence over the body in the forest would be called into question.
The bestiary excerpt went into detailed explanation on an Alpha ability (up to a point) to enforce their will onto their Betas. More rightly their 'Bitten'. While dependent on varying stages of evolution (the Bitten can show parasite-induced behavioral changes enticed by Alphas. The younger/weaker the more susceptible to suggestion.)
"Lydia thinks it's inadvisable to have our bitten and unaligned friends left unmonitored." Isaac quoted from memory when he snatched the phone back while Allison stared through the window.
"Doesn't that mean" she whispered in a thought, "without an Alpha, Stiles is just as likely to be controlled by this wild Alpha as you are? Or as Scott?"
Isaac had exactly 1 minute more to process that information before she found him in her bedroom. It didn't make it any easier for him to mask his dismay. Despite how determined his eyes were when he tried to convey with a nod 'yeah, but things would be okay, somehow.'
Allison's expression grew pinched with discomfort, "are we supposed to just babysit each other?"
"Pretty sure it's just Lydia's working theory." Isaac hoped. And he 'hoped' his hope didn't show so much Allison would doubt his intentions. "So far it has barely had influence over whoever it's bitten but then we also don't know how many it's bitten... seems like it's trying build a pack maybe but doesn't know how. It's too young maybe? Or it's too old and mad to care what it's doing."
"If it was old and mad, it clearly doesn't have a pack, or they would have dealt this." She groaned, but a moment later absent-mindedly ran her fingers along her lip in thought, "If Lydia's theory is correct, it's a smart tactic but not ideal and not in the long term. If we don't know a 'vector'; like a motive or a range of control over our best-friends, this is just a powder keg."
"This is from your books. Didn't you know that before?"
"Yes. Sort of." She thought about it and shook her head, her fingers kept tandem with her thoughts along her lower lip. "When you had an Alpha didn't you learn about this before?"
"Us? Not for sure," Isaac croaked at being addressed. He had gotten quite used to sitting on the side commiserating with Allison, and it was unburdening to have his status as a Werewolf known. But talking about his pack? Especially to a Hunter? Conflicted wasn't a big enough word. "Our Alpha is big on need-to-know but we could sometimes sense... like a push in our gut when he wanted us to influence us see clearer or help us change. But this describes something more like mind control."
"Maybe like vanishing," Allison's hand dropped with weakness and anxiety her expression clouded over with uncertainty. "And maybe showing up a week later with no memory of it or wandering in the middle of the woods, to discover secret hideouts and dead bodies."
"Or," Isaac cut off, unsure of what she was getting at offered another direction with a hand on her shoulder. His mind latched onto something more promising, something Allison (especially as a Hunter) would prefer. "Like crashing through walls, tearing through doors and possibly killing innocent people along the way, but showing up for class everyday utterly unphased."
Jackson. She sighed heavily, her weapons were easy to re-holster and set right again. Her twisted wrist and mixed feelings were less so.
"Not to mention," she added and rubbed at the pain in her wrist for focus, "possibly murdering Alphas to start a clan war, for this whack job."
Isaac stood up abruptly. "They murdered an Alpha?"
"The body Lydia found in the woods," Allison edged toward him and kept her voice low. It was her mistake in assuming he should have known everything when everything was still a mess anyway. "The day before she found Stiles. It was less than a meter away. That was why we came across his Fort."
"Do you know the name?" He shivered when he asked the question. And though he didn't growl, his eyes changed colors and had a certain menace when he asked.
"They think someone named Hale. Derek Hale." She reached her hand toward him hesitantly; she wanted to keep him from spiraling out. In her mind the detail realigned, a shelf became more organized. "Did you know him?"
"He's our Alpha." Isaac growled.
"But you're not a Hale." She didn't exactly ask but she definitely demanded it of him.
They swiveled around to face Aunt Kate in the doorway.
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Track 06 - Final Warning by Skylar Grey
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{20 minute into the woods nearby, The Beacon Hills Preserve}
"Why has no one texted back?" Lydia muttered bringing her iPhone down from the air where she waved it around like an antenna.
"Why is that the important question?" Stiles stared owlishly around looking for bad guys in the shadows.
"What is the important question?" Scott asked from a few feet ahead where he held up his phone to light where Lydia led.
"Is it smart for us to keep wandering the same place the authorities were crawling all over just yesterday?"
"Why not?" Scott shrugged "they're not coming back. The Sheriff's Department is done with it. The cleaners cleared it." Scott took a deep sniff and nodded appreciatively. "It even smells clearer."
"Exactly!" Stiles pounced after him, "isn't that suspicious? Doesn't that make it seem like anything can be living out here?"
All three stopped and turned toward each other. Scott smirked, Lydia's eyebrows went up, and Stiles looked sheepish.
"Yes, I realize what that sounds like coming from me, but you know what I mean! We can't just wander for hours-"
"We aren't wandering," Scott reassured cheerily and pointed at Lydia "we're following our fearless leader."
Blinking, Lydia glanced up from her iPhone to find Stiles staring at her blankly.
"What?"
"Nothing," he mumbled, looking incredibly focused as he shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his hoodie "lead the way."
Lydia looked dubious and turned to Scott for an explanation. He only gave an awkward shrug and aimed the light to the ground. She rolled her eyes and continued to seemingly wander with Scott and Stiles trailing behind.
"It isn't here," she said low.
"Is it supposed to be?" Scott asked.
She shook her head, "that's why it's not here." She groaned a little in frustration, "what I mean is I think it's supposed to be near here but then..."
"Why are we here instead?" Stiles drew the conclusion. Lydia nodded. "Believe me, I know that feeling. I felt that endlessly when I stayed here. It sucked."
"So, do you think this dead guy, it's someone from your pack?"
Stiles made a face as if Scott had suddenly gave off the stink of all stinks.
Scott had no idea how to translate that, "what?"
Stiles pulled the hood up over his head in a dramatic gesture of 'I'm not talking to you' before he continued to talk "of course I think it might be. I also think it might not be. What is really bothering you?"
"I want to help you and I want to help her-"
"Of course, you do Scott. You want to help everyone."
"I just mean what if it's not from your pack and it's just some person, is Lydia going to be drawn off to the woods because of every accidental death?"
"Scott," Stiles sympathized with his friend's earnest confusion "I don't think that's how Banshees work," he added with an uneasy smile.
"What did you say?" Lydia froze at the sound of the word and turned on the spot, nearly dropping her phone.
"How did you do that?" asked Scott dumbstruck as he waved the flashlight blindly back and forth. Stiles blinked several times trying to refocus his vision and shuffled his feet, as if ready to walk but couldn't make them move. With their heads together, they spoke in congress in that inseparable way they had a habit of doing and Lydia saw the color drain from their faces.
"What?" she snapped. They could be really worrying sometimes.
"Lydia," Stiles said slowly and made a gesture with both hands, the sort a parent did when they wanted and infant to come toward them and away from a ledge. "We can't find you."
She laughed a little. They were less than a foot apart.
"You can't see me?" she asked, waving both hands in the air.
"Yes," Scott answered, and they both nodded. "It's just we can't sense you at all," Stiles finished explaining.
Lydia's froze on the spot, her breath caught in her chest. She memorized the time and location on the geoMap. Not one damn unique thing, (although she finally had a signal and a reply from Isaac; "Allison's in with her family. I'm just standing around".)
Glancing back up at Scott and Stiles, she could see their panic, at the way they tried to come to her but seemed incapable of approaching. It made her too frightened to move, maybe not in the supernatural way they sensed things. Maybe whatever caused their deadening of sense could worsen if she moved. Looking around for causation and saw nothing of note; a wall of trees, more clearing, more trees, in the distance she could make out property, possibly an estate but it looked old and uninhabited. On a second glance, upon closer look she reexamined the close by trees, bushes and saw nothing except many strewn leaves, bare wintery blackened branches, and shedding. Her eyes locked on a wide black powder obscured by foliage, drawing a far, wide circle so vast it could go unmarked, but she noticed. Her eyes continued to follow its path until it came nearly underfoot over a flat rock that read, "Hale Property." On the deadened side of the black line, Lydia kneeled and wiped the ash away. Immediately the senses flooded back to both of her friends.
"What the hell just happened?" gasped Scott and he carefully stepped over the flat stone like a man would step over a live wire.
Stiles rushed forward and knelt beside her to help her stand but she brushed off his hold.
"Holy-open sesame Batman," Stiles finally looked around once he knew Lydia was okay, once he sensed she was 100% okay however annoyed, "I laid low here for days and I didn't sense any of this. How is there possibly any 'over here'?"
"Because it's over here and not over on that side," Lydia pointed to the divide of the ash along the stone slab.
"Stiles' right," Scott continued to move forward feeling very distrustful of every leaf and shadow, "when we were here the other day, I kept running right up to here and sensed nothing."
"That's a property line that slab right there," Lydia gestured emphatically, "see the stone on the ground that reads 'Hale'. Can't you see that?"
"Oh, I see that," Stiles had lost track of their conversation and became incensed over something altogether different. His face had started to turn as red as his hood before he stomped away.
"Stiles?" Lydia called after him then she hesitated and turned to Scott.
"Stiles!" Scott called after him. Scott looked at Lydia with a concern in his face and took a deep breath before taking after Stiles as if going in for a dive.
Lydia stayed back for a little while at the slab on the property line. She toed at the dust and watched it dissolve into the air like vapor wherever she tapped and wondered how it differed to when the guys neared it. She brought up her phone and took a few photos.
The nearer to the property they got, a strong acrid scent filled the air and despite his aversion to gore Stiles was wound-up about searching for the dead body. Finally, Lydia shuffled to catch up, as she did, she pulled up the cuff of her coat to cover her nose and mouth, but the smell caused her to choke up. She couldn't imagine how hard it was on Scott and Stiles.
"Thanks for coming to get us." Scott wavered in her peripheries. "Stiles' is beginning to worry the next dead body you find will be someone from his pack. So, thanks for coming to get us."
Lydia stopped in her tracks and looked at Scott. "Sure," she said flatly. The thought had not occurred to her. Just as it had not occurred to Scott the reason Lydia collected them before finding the next dead body was because she was frightened. Less so with them. "Of course," she shrugged and started walking again. If Stiles was convinced the next cadaver was his pack, then she was twice as grateful Scott came. She couldn't imagine what a comfort she would be. She barely had enough of a mind to look for a strangers' corpse, emotionally detached as it were, she had no idea what words of comfort to drum up for Stiles of all people.
"Anytime," she peeked around her cuff and smiled. Scott returned the grin.
They walked over a patch of newly turned earth and Scott and Stiles sensed it as if they walked over their own graves, just under the surface lay a dead Werewolf. They never knew it would feel like that, but it answered the question whether or not the dead body was a Werewolf or not. Stiles grabbed up a shovel leaning beside the porch and started at the ground with feverish intensity, Scott gave him room. It didn't take more than a few minutes before indecipherable charred remains lay on the ground before them. Despite the rush to find it Stiles did not unravel it from its covering, Scott stood beside him, and Lydia stood very still across from them feeling torn. Sure, she brought them there and sure sensing death was a terrible burden but not being a Werewolf meant she didn't feel things the way they did, she didn't feel their intense emotions, she didn't sense their connection towards Pack members and as much as she wanted to go over and stand beside them it wasn't her place. She took another step away and another and another until she inched her way onto the steps of the porch.
Scott put his hand on his friend's arm, but Stiles' eyes turned yellow, and he threw him off. They fell to the ground, and it took them both a moment to catch their calm afterward. Lydia bravely asked what was going on, she wanted to understand.
"Doesn't this all seem a bit too," Stiles made a shrugging gesture and started to pace, "dicey?"
"It's the Hale House," Scott reminded "since the fire, this place has been dangerous since before I can remember. I mean look at it," he gestured around, "rumors about how creepy it is here didn't do it justice."
Stiles breathed a little calmer and nodded. They stood on opposite sides and analyzed the body wrapped in a tarp and both were too intimidated to remove it on their own. They looked at each other, gave a silent nod of agreement and grabbed an end; they pulled at it until it spun out and left a burnt body behind. They went quiet looking over the charred remains barely recognizable as a man.
Stiles gulped to keep down his food.
"What is it?" Scott tried to see what his friend saw.
Stiles shoved the corpse over with the edge of his sneakers, rolling it along from the tip to the end. The corpse's face was crushed partly in and piercings in places over the eyes and crushed into and dangling where the nose would have been. Skin was melted but it was still recognizable as skin.
"There isn't any tattoo-It isn't him."
"Tattoo?" asked Lydia.
"Of a triskelion." Stiles tore his eyes away, grateful to look toward something pleasing instead.
"A what?" asked Scott.
"It's a triple spiral," Lydia tried to explain and traced her finger through the air, Scott shook his head only more confused than when they said the word to begin with.
"Like this," Stiles pointed to faded marks on the burnt blanket. They inched toward the corpse where marks could be made out in the burlap wrap. Scott focused on worn black against brown tone, funny how despite the burn it was left recognizable almost like it was intentional.
"It stands for different things to different people," Lydia explained, "the past, present, future."
"It also stands for Alpha, Beta and Omega," Stiles explained as well sounding very similar in tone and Scott looked up from one to the other.
"We should report this," Scott said quietly knowing there would be some sort of mixed reaction. Lydia looked disappointed and Stiles upset.
"No," Stiles answered sharply. "We're not getting the Sheriff's Department involved. We're going to handle it."
"What? How?" Scott knew there would be backlash but he had not expected that. He felt shocked and couldn't keep disgust from his voice, "that makes no sense."
Lydia pulled her hair away from her face and looked around, she felt disoriented and dizzy. She wanted to really discuss but felt a pressure for time and a pressure against her chest and wanted to get through to them, "none of these facts make sense. I feel like I remember this place."
Gradually Lydia had moved further into the doorway of the ruined structure. When she cut in sharply, the boys spun to face her. When had she tiptoed along the rickety and shattered boards.
"Lydia, be careful," Scott felt short-winded, as if his asthma were in consideration.
"No! No, Scott!" Lydia sounded severe. She remembered why she asked them to come to her afterschool. She remembered how vulnerable they were to a power that destroyed their lives once already, and how vulnerable they were to one another, "you're going to need to be careful!" She edged further and further away, frightened suddenly, knowing how fragile they were after working so hard to find each other.
"What do you mean?" Scott stepped forward with a hand out. He sensed her panic and felt as though he could pull her back, he felt as though he needed to pull her back before she unraveled.
"See, that symbol? I just read about this," she pushed the door backward. It screeched along its hinge and showed a circular mark, obviously carved with claws. Lydia stood high above, her red hair a deep contrast against the shadowed doorway.
"It means 'Revenge'," Stiles cut her off, his face reflected some of her dread and he stepped forward carefully alongside his friend to reach for her too.
"It means things have escalated," Lydia's voice trembled. "War has begun in Beacon Hills. The lines have literally been drawn."
As the door swung forward it gave a barely perceptible click and for the second time in sixteen years the Hale House went up in flames.
.
Track 07 - Storm by Broxxie
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{Meanwhile - overpass near Mad River}
A burst went off, an explosion near to him, not warm exactly, but fierce enough to send vibrations through him and lift him from his seat, sending him sideways. Jackson woke to a start with blood on his hands again, warm and seeping from his forehead, across the back of his hands on to the steering wheel. He looked around, he looked through the windshield when he felt he could focus and knew he was miles away from home, he only began to hear again when her crying and screaming filled his ears followed by the rush of water.
"I said so, I told you!" she seemed overall less frightened, but especially less frightened while she watched Jackson's eyes return from serpent yellow to their natural blue. "Please! Please, I'll go with you, wherever I won't fight. Just please, get us out of the water."
It took Jackson a few more seconds for him to realize his Porsche teetered against the rock face of one of many runoff creeks, weighed down with water. Jackson reached over and used his slowly retracting nails to unsnap the cable ties that held her wrists. He felt sharp sparks pass between them when he touched her skin. The more he focused on her the more he noticed her aura glowed orange and brightened with her anxiety. Normally others fear or struggle would add to his strength but this time it weakened his resolve.
They scrambled over the passenger seat and up the rock face toward the bridge while the car collapsed underneath. But when Kira made it to the top, she clutched her hands to her chest and swooned.
"Oh god, stay back," but she hadn't meant it out of fear for herself but for Jackson.
"No!" Jackson said, excited when an idea occurred to regain ground.
"It's too late!" Kira cried out as great power coursed through her. Her hands dropped from across her chest, they flung out toward the ground with her fingers splayed.
Jackson ran at her full pelt, his sneakers sizzled while the pavement sparked beneath him. He held onto her hands and pressed their foreheads together. Kira watched, amazed and unafraid as gratitude showed in his face. The last of remnants of discoloration peeled away from his skin, his nails retracted and with a hiss he collapsed to the pavement at her feet. And power went out for 50 miles around.
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Track 08 - ZVVL by CHVRCHES
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{Still – Argent's House, 2nd Floor, Allison's Bedroom}
The lights blinked out and the sound of power going out through the home made Allison, Isaac and Kate jump to alert.
"I have to go-" Isaac moved to leave.
Kate cut him off and pushed him back against a wall.
"You're right Isaac," she smirked, one eyebrow rose with a malevolence that might as well have been a certified weapon of its own, "you need to find your friend Stiles before the others do, and I know Allison" she glanced toward her niece, "isn't going to let you go alone. But if Bedlam's breaking out, here's what we're going to do-"
Kate reached into her jean pocket and tossed Isaac a set of car keys.
"We'll head out," she referred to her and the rest of the Hunters, "through the front with the all-terrains, in 5 minutes. You take my Range Rover out back. Procedure dictates we head to the source of this incident, to observe and secure the site. You better hope your friend isn't there."
"Aunt Kate, thank you." Allison stood and grabbed her jacket and quiver once more.
"Don't." Kate's tone turned dangerous, "Don't thank me. This is... a stupid. Reckless. Mistake. Again."
"I don't know what you mean," said Allison.
"Kate!" Chris Argent called from downstairs.
"I'll be there in a sec!" Kate shouted back over her shoulder then looked back at the two of them, "Just fair warning Allison, don't follow my example. I mean it Allison; I know you look up to me, but don't you follow in my footsteps." Kate shook her head, already disappointed in Allison for what Allison didn't even know.
"O-okay." Allison promised and hugged her Aunt goodbye.
"I love you," she said wrapped up in her niece's embrace, "Isaac, I don't love you," she said over Allison's shoulder.
"O-okay," Isaac could think of nothing else to reply.
Kate stopped hugging Allison but kept hold of her by the shoulders and glared at Isaac, "If you let anything happen to her, I'll find you and turn you inside out and then kill you. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, ma'am," Isaac squirmed a little and took a notable step back. Allison looked to the floor to hide her expression of dismay. She had no doubt her Aunt intended to carry out on that threat.
"If you watch her back," Kate released Allison and stepped forward between the two of them and held her chin high, she spoke with a tone again that laid out a challenge, "save people that need saving, defeat bad guys and bring my Range Rover back fully gassed-"
"What? Why?" Isaac fiddled with the key while he struggled to reason.
"-and I'll let you know if the I.D. on Derek is positive or not. Is it a deal?" with a finger Kate jabbed him in the chest.
"Yes!" Isaac nodded emphatically, "Hell yes!"
.
Track 09 - Die Slow by Health
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{Also - BHHS, Courtyard}
While at the High School they had only just wrapped up their questioning over the destruction of property when the power went out. Mr. Yukimura, the World History teacher appeared as if out of nowhere beside the Sheriff to ask if the Argents were still around.
"They concluded their investigation here and moved onto the source of the blackout," answered Sheriff Stilinski.
"Is it possible to get past the barriers here and follow?" Ken Yukimura asked in all sincerity.
The Sheriff looked at him as if he were a three headed Dolphin walking across a desert.
"Mr. Yukimura the Argents are professionals. They moved onto the source of the black out. It's probably best if you stay here with the rest of your students until the parents show up."
"Honestly," Mr. Yukimura pointed out smilingly, "a lot of the parents already showed up. The stragglers are waiting for the domestic help to come get them or social services is already waiting with them until their parents come back from wherever business has kept them. Plus, I don't like them very much." His grin lengthened a little.
The Sheriff blinked in disbelief, but the man's smile didn't waver, and it just made him laugh, he rubbed his forehead pushing back a headache, "the roads are open for emergency vehicles only, due to the power outage."
"All the more reason for us to go together!" he didn't lose his cheer, but he seemed a little upset in his persistence "like a police escort. You're going to be on the road either way."
When the Sheriff was moved to ask why Mr. Yukimura simply introduced him to his wife.
A petite Japanese woman with a determined jaw with fierce eyes that stabbed through him when she explained "either you spare an officer to have us escorted or bring us into custody, either way we will be on the road."
The Sheriff no longer felt amused, but he felt compelled to ask why.
"Our daughter, Kira, isn't among the students in the school," Mr. Yukimura explained. All the humor had gone from his face, "she was meant to be studying with Allison Argent."
"She has never disappeared on us before Sheriff," said Mrs. Yukimura in a tone straightforward, respectful and an uncompromising sort of pleading. "You know what it is like when you can't find your child."
The Sheriff shook his head in frustration. Sure, they were manipulating him but that didn't make it not work, "why would you think Kira would be-"
He didn't get the chance to finish before Mrs. Yukimura answered, "I have a feeling."
"I've learned not to discount my wife's feelings, Sheriff." Mr. Yukimura delicately added.
.
Track 10 - Hoppipolla by Sigur Ros
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{Meanwhile – Along the Highways & Byways}
The distance between the High School and the crash site would have been 6 minutes on a good day with no traffic and clear skies. 8 minutes with construction. But a night with panicked citizens, no power, dark skies, and laser lights show threatening worse, there was no negotiating how to get to the end of the street. Even with the police sirens.
Unfortunately for the Sheriff's Department, it became clear early on the Argents weren't going to be as helpful as they first implied. While they were determined to head toward the blackout site, but they were less eager to give aid closing roads. Fairvale assisted readily but only along their borders, except by the time they got word there were a few fender benders.
Since there was still construction on the highway, it was easier in the South to shutdown the exits, but the side-streets were a problem. Residents of Beacon Hills loved their side streets. There simply weren't enough officers to cover them all, this left first responders at fallen utility poles and parked as if they were barricades.
Officers Cruisers weren't getting ahead of it, but a decent small all-terrain vehicle would. The Argents all-terrain vehicles didn't have the same problems, if they had power problems it wasn't to the same extent, and they insisted on being allowed onto the scene without police escorts.
The Yukimuras followed along patiently, and their car remarkably remained unaffected to power struggles.
In an attempt for order, some officers grabbed supplies from emergency kits then split up on foot to lay down road flares. Once Deputy Parrish noticed a member of the Argent crew and decided to make a move. A man named Norm turned down his nose as if Parrish offended him utterly by having suggested it.
"I could just commandeer the bike," Deputy Parrish reminded.
Norm's face looked intrigued but not all that fazed.
"You know," Parrish started, "as a clean-up crew, what is your interest in this? A blackout isn't any animal incident. You seem almost creepily invested to the point of obsessing."
At that Mr. Norm parted easy with his vehicle.
Deputy Parrish took the ATV along the thin white line of the road and focused the little it reflected of the peeking moon that came out thought puffs of clouds. At a dangerous and dark curvature of the road, where a blind spot was at its worst, he intended to block it off entirely. Parrish had to dismount and walk through the stand-still traffic.
An oversized Coyote stood on the meridian, darting forward, and snarling at traffic. It didn't seem lost or scared. It seemed to have intentionally caused a pile-up. When Deputy Parrish neared the giant Coyote, it whipped around with teeth bared and ears pushed back.
Parrish remembered the flare in his hand, waved it around for a bit and tossed it over. Not near the animal, he didn't want to harm such a helpful animal. Trying to reason with it to run off he babbled for a bit, and ended with a nervous, "as if you can understand me."
The Coyote dropped its nose to the ground and rubbed it between its big paws it as if it wiped away annoyance. Then it stood at full height and shook its head before glaring toward the drivers. Everything about the animal seemed exaggerated and larger than he imagined a Coyote should be, especially the bright blue eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. Then in play, not in anger, the Coyote snapped at him to push him back before jumping over the ramp and towards the bushes in the inky black shadow.
Once he set additional flares, he called back on his walkie-talkie and reported the North West streets was closed off. He didn't even think about reporting the Coyote, not because he thought no one would believe him but because he knew the Argents would.
Playlist Available: 8tracksDOTcom / bhanesidhe / 09-were-you-brave
Playlist: transferred over to youtubeDOTcom / bhanesisdhe / playlist