Rachel's POV
I run. I run as fast as my young legs will go, the wind whipping through my hair and my heart racing wildly with every step towards somewhere safer.
A stone in my path is noticed too late, and I stumble as my balance wanes. Quickly I recover, but my fumble has caused my pursuer to catch up. I hear heavy footfalls behind me and dare to look back.
To my horror I find the dark, angry eyes of our captor locked onto mine. I was being scoped like a prey animal and he was the hunter.
Why is Waverly not behind me? What happened to her? Flashes through my mind, but the rush of adrenaline prevents me from pausing the fight for my life.
Get to safety, get help, save Waverly.
These thoughts encourage my feet to go ever faster as I reach the tree line on the edge of the Svane property.
My heart feels like it wants to beat right out of my chest as I power through the underbrush, scratches from wayward branches sure to burn the next time I shower.
The footsteps behind me grow ever closer, the fear of failure starts to grip me with a weight of heavy dread.
"Give it up, brat! I'm gonna catch ya." Comes the heavily accented warning just as I spot the signs of a paved road peeking through the greenery.
Hope flares. A car, people. Help.
My feet hit the pavement just as I hear the familiar sound of tires screeching.
I jump out the way just in time to avoid being hit by an oncoming vehicle and watch as it swerves violently.
My pursuer is not as lucky, I hear the distinct sound of metal hitting human flesh and bone as the car brakes much too late.
Time holds me in a slow-motion trance as I watch the car hit the man who was hunting me, his body flung violently over the bonnet.
He falls to the ground with a loud thud just as the car comes to a standstill on the opposite side of the road.
I stand frozen in shock, my eyes glued to his very still body.
Voices shouting my name faintly register in my mind, but it is the familiar hands gripping my arms that finally pull me from my mental stasis.
My vision clears and I register the warm face of my mother looking at me with deep concern. "Rachel, baby, are you okay?"
"M… mom?" I stutter, confused and completely exhausted.
My mother's face remains, to my relief as she softly runs her hand through my hair. "Yes sweetheart. You are safe."
"How… what…" I try, my tired mind attempting to make sense of everything.
"Shh, I will explain the details later. I escaped, sweetheart. And finally found you again. That's all that matters." My mother's soothing voice salves away all my fear and shock.
My eyes now focused again, I finally notice the other two people who were hovering over the fallen man in the road.
The familiar brunette places handcuffs on the man and picks up his gun. She then removes her own weapon, a shotgun, from her back and offers it to her redheaded companion.
"You know how to shoot? Wynonna asks Nicole. The redhead looks at the offered weapon hesitantly for a second before determination grips her features. She nods, taking the shotgun." Dad was a cop, remember. He taught me."
Wynonna nods, satisfied, before turning to my mother and I. "Hey kid. I am really glad you are okay." She says softly, her voice filled with genuine care..
I manage to nod, the extreme cardiovascular activity in my chest finally starting to slow down now that the adrenaline was wearing off.
Nicole appears beside Wynonna, her eyes a mix of worry and relief. She immediately embraces me. "I am so glad you are okay, Rach." I lean into the warm embrace, allowing it to restore my sense of security to fullness.
After ending the embrace, Nicole's eyes lock onto mine with a deep-set seriousness as she asks the question echoed by Wynonna's eyes.
"Where is Waverly?"
I release a breath to steady myself, my mother's hand on my shoulder helping to ground me.
"They… they had us locked in a cell in the basement of the Svane house. Waverly helped me escape. She promised she would be right behind me… but then she wasn't."
Wynonna replaces my mother's hand, holding both my shoulders as her eyes hold mine with silent strength. "You did great Rachel. Don't worry about Waves. Nicole and I will find her. Why don't you catch up with your mom while we go and get her?"
I nod timidly and allow my mother to guide me towards the miraculously still running car. She opens the door for me, encouraging me to take my place in the front passenger seat.
From this new vantage point I watch Wynonna and Nicole pick up the handcuffed man in the road and deposit him in the back seat of the car.
Wynonna closes the door and then moves over to the driver's side, handing my mom the man's stolen gun.
"He is not dead, but that hit hurt him real bad. The cops are on their way. I need you to watch him. If he moves, shoot his ass."
My mother grips the gun, nodding firmly. "You got it."
Then the determined duo of Wynonna and Nicole disappear into the office on a dangerous mission to save their girl.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Waverly's POV
I wake up again 5 minutes after the gun had hit me, the contact to my temple not enough to cause deep damage beyond a very brief loss of consciousness.
I look around the cell and the basement, finding myself completely alone.
As long as Rachel got away, it was worth it. "I am counting on you, kid."
I feel a slight burning sensation where the gun had made contact with my skin.
When I reach up, my hand makes contact with the sticky residue of blood. The gun must have cut one of the capillaries just beneath the skin of my temple.
I watch the blood drip onto the floor beneath me and start looking around for something to stop the bleeding.
"Oh little Valdez will not escape. Yorkie is quite the skilled hunter. He never misses a target." Comes the cold voice from the dark shadows. My head whips around to meet the icy gaze of Bobo Del Rey through the slit in the cell door.
I hear him sniff the air in a way that makes my skin crawl.
"You smell delicious." He says with a dark chuckle, right before I hear the click of a key in the lock.
The cell door flies open and I am left standing face to face with the embodiment of evil himself.
Bobo enters and I automatically take a step back as my face morphs in disgust. "Stay the hell away from me!" I snarl.
His eyes take on an even more menacing glint, his teeth appearing like that of a hungry wolf as he smirked evilly at me.
"Oh no, little girl. You don't make the rules here. You have had your fun. Now it is my turn." His gaze darkens, his voice reaching a subzero tone as he removes a Desert Eagle from his fur coat and points the weapon a me.
I feel the bravery slowly seep from my bones, giving way to my deepest fears.
What if I never see Nicole again? Or Wynonna. Or Joy farm. What if I never see my family again? Thoughts of dread spill into my heart, threatening to drown my hope.
I focus on the faces of the people I love, it helps to stoke my bravery once more. "My sister and my girlfriend won't let you get away with this. They will come for me and they will take you down."
Bobo growls angrily, the click of the safety being removed from the gun pushing another nail into the coffin made for my hope.
"Oh darling, your fire is endearing. But fire can be a dangerous thing. I will show you why in a moment. Get out of the cell." He orders, lifting the gun to my head.
Left with no other option, I swallow my bravery and take the first of many unwilling steps forward.
He keeps the gun trained on me and pushes me ahead of him, up a set of stairs and into what looks like a garage. After exiting the basement, he makes sure to lock the door behind us and then proceeds to grab a rope from the garage wall and a jerry can left in the corner while always keeping the gun trained on me.
My instincts scream that I was in great danger. That I was most likely about to die. Silently I send up a prayer in a final attempt towards help, and try my best to appear strong despite fear pulsing inside my chest.
Bobo orders me to exit the garage and leads me to what used to be the living room of the Svane house. All that remained of what may once have been a wonderful entertainment area was half the roof along with half a wall. To the left of the room was partially scorched and barely there staircase that led up to the only intact room in the house besides the garage and the basement.
Bobo pushes me towards the dilapidated staircase, forcing me to climb the barely holding on steps. The second step actually gives way from the pressure of my foot and I have to leap towards the third to prevent myself falling. Bobo appears unaffected, quickly following in my wake.
Besides a few very suspect creaks from the rest of the stairs, they hold up long enough for me to reach the small piece of floor still intact on the top. It leads right to the single room unaffected by the historical fire.
"Open the door." Bobo barks menacingly. I keep my cool composure despite how afraid I felt, and turn the door handle.
Inside is what clearly used to be a teenage boy's bedroom. A teenage boy with a very dark streak.
Everything in the room had undertones of darkness: the bedding, the curtains and the carpet. Ironically, this was the only room that appeared completely unblackened by the fire.
Instead of scorch marks, the wall sported wallpapers of historical psychopaths like Charles Manson and Ted Bundy, and a collection of yellowed newspaper articles about the Svane family. I recognize a few from Nicole and I's research: the article on when Robert Svane almost killed another boy in school, the one of Robert with his parents in front of the house, and the one about the fire that killed his parents and destroyed his family's home.
There is another article which did not quite fit the rest. It was one about Mrs. Nedley's death in a hit and run. Why would Bobo/Robert have his one up?
"Enjoying my wall of achievements? Don't worry, there will soon be another one about you to add to my collection." Bobo sneers behind me.
I whip around, my eyes flashing in disgust and anger. The gun held in Bobo's hands make my ire quickly fizzle out. It was useless, I had no chance against him.
He knows that I could not do a damn thing in this situation, that he had me right where he wants me. He grins triumphantly and pulls an old chair from the desk in the corner. He places the chair neatly against the wall with the newspaper articles.
"Sit." He instructs, pointing the gun menacingly at me.
My feet feel like slowly moving molasses as the fear flows ever stronger through me. He is going to kill me. It is a fact I am slowly learning to accept.
I sit down in the chair, and he starts tying me in place with the rope.
When he is done, he smiles patronizingly in my direction. "You see little girl, the world is my playground. Everyone always thinks they can ruin me, take what is rightfully mine. And that's why I need to teach them a lesson. My parents had to learn. Randy Nedley's wife had to learn. And now you too will learn."
He killed Mrs. Nedley. This revelation hits me like a shower of melted ice, freezing my remaining resolve. Bobo Del Rey is the greatest form of evil. A heartless monster. And now I was going to be added to his victim list.
Bobo picks up the jerry can, removes the top and starts pouring its contents all across the floor of the bedroom. The stench of gasoline hits my nose like a potent perfume, the fumes giving me an instant headache.
He is going to set the room on fire with me in it! I realize to my horror, a loud sob escaping my throat as my body starts to violently tremble. I'll never see Wynonna, Nicole, Jeremy, Chrissy, Rachel or Nedley again. I finally gained a true family in my life, only for me to be cruelly ripped from that happiness at the hands of a psychopath.
"Please don't do this." I plead in a broken voice, tears streaming silently down my cheeks.
When he looks at me, I know it is a futile request. His eyes were emotionless dark pools, simply regarding me as an object to do away with.
"I always wanted to finish burning this house to the ground. I never had a good enough reason to. But then you came along and gave me this wonderfully poetic opportunity. Who am I to deny fate?" He says coldly and turns back towards his talks of covering the floor in gasoline.
When he reaches the door he pauses to look at me one more time. "Been a real pleasure, little girl. Enjoy the ride. This one is sure to be hot."
Then he exits with the jerry can in hand, locking the door behind him. When he is gone, I try my best to free my hands, but the bindings are much too strong. A wave of panic storms my heart. "Help!" I scream into the silence with every ounce of my remaining energy.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
Nicole's POV
Wynonna and I rush through the underbrush, deftly avoiding any wayward branches as our feet carry us to the edge of the Svane property.
Once there, Wynonna crouches down and urges me to do the same. We huddle in the dark shade of the forest, silently scanning the Svane property for any signs of trouble.
All we are met with is the burnt remains of the Svane house staring eerily back at us.
"We head for the basement first. That's the entrance over there." She says pointing 20 meters ahead of us at the open doors of the place which held Waverly.
I nod in confirmation. "Got it. Let's go."
The need to find Waverly, to save her from the hands of darkness attempting to take her light from my life, drives my feet forward despite the danger that may lie ahead.
Wynonna removes her gun, a buntline special, from the holster on her hip and I follow her cautiously into the basement We check every nook and cranny cautiously for signs of the enemy, luckily reaching the cell Rachel mentioned without a hitch. But its emptiness leaves us wrought with worry. Worry further increased by the tiny drops of blood leading a pathway from the cell.
Wynonna decides to remain focused on the mission instead of giving in to dread and starts following the trail of blood. I swallow my fears and follow vigilantly behind her.
The drops of blood litter the floor all the way to a set of wooden stairs on the other end of the basement. At the top of the stairs we are met with a door. Testing the handle, we are unsurprised to find it locked.
I am about to turn around and go back the way we came, when the thunderous bang of a boot hitting wood resounds throughout the basement.
I turn around to observe the awesome sight of the door giving way to Wynonna's powerfully delivered kick.
She looks back at me with a stoic determination in her eyes. I meet her gaze with a look of silent agreement and ready my shotgun. She adjusts her grip on the buntline special and leads the way into the next room.
The room turns out to be the Svane garage, scorched by historical flames but mostly still standing. It even sports a tarp covered car.
All along the floor lies faded spots of red paint. The paint seems to be most concentrated around the car itself.
Something compels me to lift the tarp, beneath its cover I find a red 1975 Ford Cortina layered with years of dust.
Wynonna frowns at the car, her face on the edge of epiphany. She picks up an abandoned nail from the floor and starts scratching at the paint on the passenger door of the vehicle. The red gives way to a shiny layer of green.
"Seems to be a custom paint job done in a hurry." I say observing the green glint. "I wonder why?"
Wynonna's features are gripped with deep contemplation. "This car… something about it is tickling my gut." She removes her phone and scrolls through her media to find something.
She finally finds what she is looking for, pausing to lift the phone to show me. It is a picture of what seemed to be an evidence photo of car tire tracks left on pavement.
Something about it scratches at the back of my mind. I delve through my memories to determine why it seemed significant.
It finally comes to me and I nearly gasp with the possibility that it held. "Mrs. Nedley's crime scene had only one shred of evidence. A set of tire skid marks. I saw it in an old news article about her death. They never found the car…"
Wynonna nods with a small smile. "You have excellent instincts, Haught."
She holds the photo against the tires, and the match is unmistakable. I walk around to the front end, running my fingers along the fender and finding a very deep indent covered by layers of paint.
"This is definitely the car that killed her. Bobo Del Rey was somehow involved in it or he was the one who did it. Your dad had the same hunch. He sent me the picture and asked me to look into it while I was investigating Bobo." Wynonna says next to me.
A sad relief settles in my chest. The evidence against Bobo was building up fast. If we could catch him, there would now be more than enough to send him away for life. "Poor Mrs. Nedley. That sick asshole." I say through gritted teeth, my heart seething for Nedley and Chrissy's loss.
Wynonna places her hand on my shoulder and plies me in a steady voice. "Save that anger for when we find him."
I mirror the fire in her eyes, nodding with confidence. We straighten back up and head for the garage door that would lead us into what remains of the Svane house.
As soon as we take the first step into the living room, the smell of gasoline hits my senses like a grenade to the face.
"Wynonna do you—" I hand grabs me from behind trapping me by the neck, the cold metal of a gun pressed into my temple.
"Not one more step." Bobo says gruffly behind me. Wynonna whips around at the new voice, her gun at the ready.
"Let her go, Del Rey." She orders, her eyes simmering with don't fuck with me.
"You come into my house and want to tell me what to do?" Comes the dark scoff as the arm around my throat tightens.
"We got you, Bobo. Nothing you do now can save you. We have more than enough to prove that not only are you behind Purgatory's drug problem, but also that you are the one who killed Randy Nedley's wife.
Bobo merely scoffs. "You have nothing. I will simply disappear and the cops will think you are crazy. It works every time. No one catches Bobo del Rey. And all that will remain of you meddling bitches will be your ashes."
Wynonna takes a slow step forward, keeping her gun on Bobo. "Where is my sister?"
"Sister? Well now, isn't this just perfect. You will have a little reunion barbecue."
The sound of sirens in the distance causes Bobo to stiffen. "Fuck." He growls as Wynonna takes yet another step closer.
"That's your ride, Bobo. So why don't you give it up. Don't make this harder for yourself than it has to be. Let my friend go and tell me where my sister is? I might be nice and organize you a single cell when you go to GRT State."
"No. No one gets to have me." He bites out and then shoves me forward with such force that I stumble into Wynonna. The sudden unexpected turn of events takes Wynonna by surprise and she loses her footing to such an extent that her gun falls to the floor, the impact causing the gun to go off.
We watch in slow motion as the bullet ricochets off a concrete pillar on the far side of the room and then the floor before making its exit through the remaining section of the roof. The spark left in the wake of the bullet's ricochet set alight what we come to realize much too late is gasoline littered on the floor.
In an instant the room is alight with flames and brimming with smoke.
When we finally come back to our senses and remember Bobo, he has disappeared. "Where is Waverly?" Wynonna shouts in a panic as we make our way through the smoke to find fresh air.
It's just as we reach the edge of the room which leads outside that we hear a desperate voice above us. "I am up here!" Waverly shouts and the realization that she was in the exact line the fire was storming towards, turns Wynonna and I's panic to maximum.
We watch in dread as the flames devour the stairway leading to the room which held Waverly.
"There has to be another way!" Wynonna exclaims, her voice desperate and hysterical as she looks at the fire.
Scenarios run through my head faster than the flames run across the gasoline. "The room has a window, right? That's our only shot."
Wynonna nods, hope flickering slightly in her distress. As we rush out of the burning house, we spot a dark van just exiting the driveway. Wynonna lifts her gun, aims and takes out one of its tires. We watch the van swerve and veer into a ditch. Bobo gets out and makes a run for it.
Wynonna looks between a quickly retreating Bobo and the burning house, torn in two. I make her decision easy. "I will get Waverly out, Wynonna. I promise. You go get that bastard."
The sirens grow closer and we spot the flash police lights through the trees as they come closer. As fast as they were approaching, they would not be fast enough.
Wynonna grips my shoulder firmly, her eyes holding mine with a seriousness I have come to learn she only held when it came to her sister. "You better get her, Haught. She is my whole world."
"She is mine too." I confess. "I will give my life if it means saving hers." I promise, not missing a single beat.
"Good. Now go and get our girl back then." Wynonna says, her voice strained but brimming with full trust in me. We nod encouragingly at each other and then we part ways to each tackle our own impossible mission.
I sprint around the house towards the window of the room Waverly was held in. I do a brief mental calculation, guesstimating the distance from the ground to the window to be around 18 feet.
If I fell, I would be badly hurt if not dead. But I didn't care. This was the only way to Waverly and nothing was gonna keep me from putting everything I had into getting her back safe.
I stretch my hands and shoulders briefly and ready my body to do what it was trained for. Releasing a slow breath, I reach out towards the wall and begin the fastest climb I had ever done in my life.