Captain: Woo! I finally got my (brand new) computer back from the shop and it actually works now. Yayyyyyy. Boo for the pain it is to transfer everything over to it from TWO other laptops, but this one actually works for everything (one the internet bogged the RAM too much to do anything but type word docs, the other didn't have a functioning keyboard, so ya know, fun times.) Now it is wonderful. Yay.

And if ya'll have never been in the mountains when a winter storm hits...count yourselves lucky. It's fun and pretty for like 2 seconds until you see how fast it's piling up and you gotta drive out; makes for some interesting journeys! Also a protip, if the 4-wheel drive is spinning out, juuuuust turn around. ;)

Back to the fic, enjoy the revamped chapter of Mustang!

You have to accept whatever comes and the only important thing is that you meet it with courage and with the best that you have to give. ~Eleanor Roosevelt

Prowl coasted down the road, keeping his scanners open to any sort of signal or sign as to where the human had been taken. But no matter how far he stretched them, all that came back was snow; the scout was gone. Barricade was as slippery as he was fast and that fact did nothing to alleviate the tactician's growing annoyance. Not only had the Decepticon been able to snatch a human from beneath Prowl's watch, but had left a blatant and taunting signal behind. A signal that had remained strong as it weaved through the streets but vanished the moment he reached the town's limits.

The Autobot vented as he passed the spot where his scanners lost the trail again. Nothing. The Decepticons were obviously behind the detective's old case, that much wasn't in question; but what were they doing with those humans? That was the real issue. Prowl accessed the files he had copied from the detective, but nothing substantial stood out, just as it hadn't before. The victims were all over the map; a few were relatives of NEST members, but he dismissed it as a factor. There were too few to be a true pattern. It couldn't be to use the captives as leverage; if he hadn't taken on the case then the Autobots wouldn't even have been aware that the 'Cons had hostages. So what were they up to? He revved as his processor shot into overdrive, flipping through a thousand possibilities for a purpose behind abducting and killing so many humans quietly. It was that secrecy that was truly throwing him. With Megatron gone, it left Starscream in charge and the seeker was anything but quiet and secretive.

So what was he up to and how could the Autobots stop it?

Prowl sent a data burst to Prime; with the Decepticons so foolishly dumping all of the deceased humans in one place, it just might give them an advantage in discovering their base. The sooner they found the base, the sooner they could end whatever half-planned scheme Starscream had come up with.

Optimus' response was prompt and to the point, "Ironhide and Major Lennox are on the way."

Why the commander always insisted on human involvement, Prowl would never understand. They didn't belong in this war; they were nearly defenseless against the Decepticons. But attempting to work out why the humans actually pushed to fight and why Optimus allowed it would only serve to overheat his processor.

The detective was a prime example though. Previously, Prowl had seen no harm in allowing her to continue with the case even after he knew of 'Con involvement; it wasn't as if she would have ever figured it out, after all. But Barricade blaring his signal and abducting her former partner was no random coincidence. Either Blake knew more than she should or the scout was taunting Prowl. Didn't matter, the human didn't belong in the middle of it, so he had removed her from the equation.

Now there was just Barricade to deal with at the moment and Prowl had the weapons specialist en route to assist in neutralizing that particular annoyance.

Pulling off the main road, Prowl drove off the blacktop and into a large field that would serve as an adequate place to meet with Ironhide. The blinding snow would obscure nearly all human vision, so he transformed. His wheels and axles needed the break and with this weather he wasn't about to be spotted. The government may have a conniption if they ever found out he walked about in the middle of the day, but the human leadership was riddled with unintelligent, gibbering fools. What they didn't know certainly couldn't hurt them anymore than their already astounding ignorance was.

Still, he remained watchful and ready to transform back into his alt mode at a split-second's notice.

Studying the landscape didn't tell him much. Despite his superior vision, the snow was too thick to pierce through any kind of distance and coming harder with every passing minute. It was curious, he took the moment to ponder, that the flakes could actually make the silence even quieter, every sharp edge smoothed, and every dash of color more vibrant.

He failed to see the appeal the humans had for the stuff.

Every flake sizzled as it touched his frame, melting on contact and leaving the water to run and drip down his armor. It was hardly more tolerable than sand.

Keeping his audios and sensors open to the roar of Ironhide's engine, Prowl accessed the locator beacon he'd placed on Detective Blake's SUV. While it remained astronomically unlikely, on the off chance that he did have need to find her again, it was only logical to ensure he could do so immediately. Despite the fact that in her emotionally compromised state she had stolen him, his other observations had pegged the detective as one of the intelligent few of the human population. So of course he fully expected the locator to come back parked right in front of her house where he'd left her.

It didn't.

His processor whirled as he attempted to reason just what she was doing speeding away from the hospital in a direction that was most definitely not towards home.

He revved, the sound cutting through the air like a hot blade. Obviously he had been aware of her tendency to ignore the orders of her superiors, but to blatantly go against his? Logically, she should have recognized his authority and accepted that he knew what was best, it was why he'd gone with the guise of a federal agent, after all. Instead she was going about as if she hadn't heard him clearly. Foolish, stubborn human.

And where was Ironhide for pit's sake? He was thirty-seven point fifteen seconds late! First an insubordinate human and now an Autobot who couldn't be punctual. Little wonder nothing substantial was getting accomplished lately.

A steadily growling roar on the wind cut his internal rant short. Finally! Prowl vented as the hulking black truck slowly began to appear down the road. He may be a total of eighty-two point nine seconds late, but now he had the firepower and the numbers on his side for the next time Barricade decided to show himself.

It was snowing heavier and apparently had been for some time in the hills. A thickening layer had coated everything save for a single set of tire tracks. Darcy followed those tracks, aiming her tires to ride directly over the impressions to give her the best chance of keeping traction. Visibility was quickly becoming terrible until she only knew she was still on the road because of the dark shapes of the trees on either side.

The radio only barely spit out a winter storm alert before losing signal and going to static. They'd made it to mid-January without their usual snowfall and now it was all coming for them at once. It was piling fast, obliterating the tracks and causing her tires to slip on the steep incline.

She passed the turn off where Tom's truck had been, the only evidence of its presence at one time the single piece of yellow crime scene tape stuck in a branch. The last jog up to the makeshift road they had created to get all of the bodies out was also the steepest and where the snow was deepest. The rear end swung and jerked as the tires tried, failed, then grabbed enough to gain a few feet before the process began again. Darcy growled as it made the long trek even longer.

Then her SUV would catch no more. All four tires spun uselessly, sliding the vehicle across the road but going nowhere. Cursing, she let off the gas and threw it in park. Spinning the tires anymore was just going to turn the snow under them to ice. If the ground was flat, she could try reversing and rocking out of the slick spot, but not on this hill. If she let it start to roll, it just might not stop until it was at the bottom of the road.

The white-out made it impossible to spot landmarks and the slow going had completely thrown off her timing. She couldn't tell exactly how far from the dumping grounds she was. Heaving an annoyed sigh, she knew there were only two options; turn back or get out and walk. She knew she couldn't afford to turn back now. Whatever Officer Cade wanted her to see had to be crucial, but walking out into the swirling snow was dangerous; it wouldn't take much to get turned around and lost if she unintentionally left the road prematurely.

There really was only one option. Tugging on her winter boots and thickest jacket, she stepped out into the snow. The effect was immediate. Cold wind pierced through every layer of clothing like it was nothing and the snow stuck, melted from her body heat, and soaked through her jeans. Ten yards from the SUV and her teeth were chattering as she hunched forward in a poor attempt to block the wind and conserve what heat she could. The thickest jacket in the car was definitely not the one she needed out here. Why the hell hadn't she grabbed the snowboarding coat before leaving the house?

Thirty yards and she was seriously questioning the wisdom of coming out here. How was she supposed to find anything? The only reason she could even see her car was because she'd left the headlights on.

The wind was literally howling, muting the creaking and groaning of the frozen trees. She was blind, deaf, and numb. This was ridiculous. She was risking her own life for something that may or may not be important to the case. Whatever it was, she could have Cade give her a detailed description when he got off duty, if he was even still up here, somewhere.

Mind made up, she turned to head back, but..what was that? A flash of color? Red and blue. The realization was like a slap of warmth. Cruiser lights! Cade or whoever was up here had lit a beacon for her to follow. The lights were reflecting off of everything, but its source was just sharp and bright enough to be easy to pinpoint. Another sixty yards she had to shuffle through the snow and like a ship in a raging storm, she drifted straight for the safety of the lighthouse in the dark.

The lights led her true, straight to the two cruisers parked several spaces apart. The first was the standard Crown Victoria and half buried. Pushing her way to it, Darcy brushed off the snow coating the rear quarter panel. Black paint proudly boasting 558 proved that it was Davis' patrol car. So where was he?

The only tracks leading to his cruiser that she could see were her own, so she kept going, working around the car towards the still-flashing lights of what had to be Cade's cruiser. A black trunk came into view first, standing out darkly against the storm of white. Walking up to the car made her pause; 643 wasn't a number she recognized as belonging to her department and not a single flake of snow hid the too-expensive body of the Mustang. Just how hot did these muscle cars run?

Moving up to the front of the interceptor, she pressed a hand against the hood. It was still toasty warm despite there being no signs of life. No tracks led away from the door but neither was there anyone sitting inside.

Where the hell were these guys?

"Ow!" Darcy ripped her hand away from the hood, shaking it out in an attempt to relieve some of the pain that had just shot through her palm. It felt like something had stabbed her. Blood quickly coated her hand, proving that she actually had been. There was nothing on the hood that could be the culprit though. Even double-checking showed it just as smooth and flawless as it had been before, except for the spot of her blood now shining on the black paint.

The detective backed away from the car. After this whole case was over, she was not going to step close to another muscle car ever again.

A muffled groan cut through the snowfall and the break in the wind. Darcy whirled around, eyes frantically searching for the source. The storm was disorienting as it was blinding. Every muscle tensed tightly as she held as still as possible, straining her ears for any sort of sound other than the wind.

There! A gurgle that reverberated all around but was definitely coming from that direction. She was pretty sure it was towards the meadow and the empty dumping grounds, but she couldn't be entirely sure. Slowly she crept away from the Mustang and towards the sound.

Wind blasted her face, forcing her eyes to release a torrent of hydrating tears that then froze on her cheeks. Only the flashing lights at her back kept any true sense of direction. Ice bit at her injured hand and burned her lungs with every breath. She didn't know it was possible to be this cold, but still she pressed on, pushing numb legs to keep moving.

Rasping gurgles reached her ears and she froze mid-step. It was close now, had to be only feet away, yet still she could see nothing. Keeping every step cautious, she moved forward, her injured hand sliding down to pull her gun. Blood made the grip slick and she gripped tighter, wincing as pain fired through her palm.

Where was Officer Cade? He was the one who had called her up here in the first place! And where was Davis? And why in the seven hells did she come up here alone? It had been a stupid idea. She should have at least called Row or anybody and told them where she was going.

Darcy frowned at the thought of the agent. He'd crossed a line and could take his authority and fancy Charger and shove it.

And yet, even her pride could admit she would feel better if both were up here with her right now. But they weren't, which meant she was on her own and needed to prove why he was an idiot for giving her the boot.

Resolve strengthened, she started forward again with no recollection of having stopped. Where was the source of that noise? She could have walked right by it without even realizing it.

Or into it, she thought grimly as her boot hit something firmer than snow. Dropping down next to it, she holstered her gun the moment her eyes caught the blue patch under the white, cursing as she had to physically rip her hand off the grip which spouted another wave of pain and blood. Packing a handful of snow into her palm, Darcy shoved the distraction to the back of her mind and focused on clearing the snow from the blue patch. A jacket slowly revealed itself, followed by a navy shirt and a badge.

It was Davis.

"Damn it!" she swore, quickly moving up to uncover his face. His eyes were open, blank and clouding over, forever staring off into the sky. He was gone.

Darcy dipped her head in a silent scream of rage. Then she noticed the blood the snow was trying so hard to hide. It covered his upper half, surrounding his body in a sadistic halo and dripped lazily down the side of his face. He hadn't been dead long. She'd just missed him. If she'd gotten there just a minute earlier she could have done something, even if it was just not letting him die alone.

Reality knocked her back, forcing her to sit up and take stock of his wounds. The minor gash on his forehead hadn't killed him, couldn't have. His upper chest was bloody but the cuts there were shallow, almost….torturous. Her hands clenched sharply, the pain of her palm only fueling the anger.

First they take John, then they brutally torture and kill Davis. This was a direct attack towards police, towards her department, and whoever was behind it was going to pay dearly for it. They had opened the gates of hell and Darcy vowed to be on the frontline of the assault.

The wind shifted, pulsing for a moment and sending chills straight to the bone and back again. The detective couldn't pinpoint why, but every nerve stood on edge waiting for….something. She sat frozen, barely daring to breath and preparing for whatever was about to appear.

Nothing did.

Another minute and still nothing. Blowing out a breath, she shook her head. This damn mountain was getting to her and the blinding snow was setting her on edge. Better to get off it as soon as possible. But...she couldn't just leave Davis like this. Brushing snow off the rest of him, her muscles locked tight as she revealed his legs. They were crushed, flattened from the waist down. She jolted back, losing her balance and falling on her rear. His pants were shredded down the seams because his legs had split open. What should be bone and muscle were piles of mush mixed with flaps of skin. Whatever had crushed him had to have tremendous force behind it; the kind of force required to rip a door off of a car.

Whoever had taken John had murdered Davis. They would have no day in court if she could help it.

A lull in the gusting wind dropped the snow quietly, clearing the view for just a brief glimpse. Darcy's gut flipped as her brain struggled to come to terms with what her eyes were seeing. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to believe it. It should be possible that a group of people could be so soulless, that cruel, that evil. For just a few yards from where Davis lay sat a mound, one that she knew had not been there before today. A dark, unnatural lump that consisted of no fewer than six bodies. Whoever was dumping the victims before had just blatantly done so again and killed a cop to do so.

Darcy's heart pounded as she stood on shaking legs and stepped around Davis. She didn't want to know if he was, but she had to see if John was there. Swallowing hard as she reached the bodies, she struggled to fight down the urge to be sick. There was no smell, no bloating, and rigor mortis was only visible in two. They had all died within the last day.

It just kept getting worse and worse. It wasn't going to end until the ones behind it were ended. They killed and dumped seven people after the extent of their crimes had already been discovered. Like they didn't care, like they knew they could get away with it.

What if it wasn't the extent of their evil, though? What if this wasn't the only dumping ground?

Whatever the case, she had to get somewhere with this case and fast, before her whole jurisdiction became a ghost town. How and why the chief had so far kept it all quiet she didn't know, but this was quickly becoming the deadliest place to be.

Four women were in the pile, two of which she recognized as having gone missing from two counties over. Two men, one she didn't know and the other faced away from her. Her body trembled as she slowly crept around the mound, mustering every scrap of strength she had left to deal with whoever she might see. Releasing the breath she was holding, she felt guilty for the relief that flooded her. It wasn't John. It was Kallen Goodman, the head ranger who hadn't even been reported missing.

A nagging thought itched at the back of her mind; why was she the one to discover this? Better yet, where was the officer that had called her up here in the first place? The man she didn't know in the pile wasn't in police clothing and appeared too old to be a rookie. And why had he called her, on her personal phone no less?

Damn it all, she was an idiot! A complete and utter idiot! Whirling around, she pulled her gun and quickly scanned her surroundings, cursing herself all the while. Here she was, a detective making rookie mistakes! Going out to an unsecured location by herself, in the middle of a storm, without alerting anyone, and then not calling for backup the moment she noticed something was wrong, those were mistakes only cadets fresh out of the academy should make.

Reaching for her radio, she swore again as nothing but static blared out of it, even on the emergency stations that always had reception. Pulling out her phone, she barely withheld from chucking it at finding it dead. It shouldn't even be possible, it had almost a full charge when she left the hospital!

Her only choice was to leave the bodies and make for her SUV and the bottom of the mountain. Priority one had to be getting some sort of help up here and then finding this Cade. At this point it was impossible to tell for sure if he was part of it or another victim. As she trekked back towards the flashing lights of his cruiser, she recalled the brief phone call with him and couldn't ignore the creeping suspicion. There was just something about how it all worked out that was too uncanny to be coincidence.

She needed to get off the mountain now.

Another pulse rocked through the air as the black of the Mustang came into view through the snow. Briefly, she entertained the thought of taking the muscle car down, at least to her SUV. She shot down that train of thought immediately. It may run hot but it was still low slung, it wasn't going to be able to move much.

And if Cade was involved, then it smelled just a little too much like a trap.

Getting back to her SUV was her only chance. Putting the lights to her back as she passed the pair of cruisers, Darcy started down the steep hill. Eventually she would see her headlights. If only the damn snow would stop falling.

The metal of her gun was freezing, seeping into her fingers and locking them in place. She needed to get back to her car, back to warmth and safety and damn it all where was the damn thing? There! Her pace quickened as she caught the ghost of the outline of her muddy SUV. Why weren't the headlights still on? She could have sworn she left those on…

Keeping the gun clenched tight and held up, her other hand fumbled into her pocket for her keys. She was almost there and out of here.

Several hundred horses roared to life behind her. Spinning, she raised her gun halfway, unsure of whether or not she needed to aim at the Mustang easing down the hill towards her. Had Cade been there the whole time? No, he wasn't in the car when she'd first gone by. Had he been out in the snow and they passed each other without knowing? Possibly, but the hairs on the back of her neck standing erect didn't believe it for a second. She raised, leveling the sight on the grill.

The powerful engine revved several times as if in challenge, sounding more like a growl with every turn. Tires spun, catching traction and throwing the car forward like a snarling dog. Despite having to plow through the thick snow, the Mustang was gaining speed and charging straight for her. Her hand clenched as she found where the radiator would be, pulling with all her might and willing her frozen fingers to move. The gun went off with a BANG, again and again as Darcy tried to hit that sweet spot that would incapacitate the car. All it did was send up sparks as the engine snarled louder. Changing her aim, she struck the windshield. If the car couldn't be put out of commission, then the driver would have to be. Even if it meant potentially blowing a lead in a suspect.

Panic flooded her as the glass stayed perfectly intact and several shots later her gun clicked empty. With a shout, she dove off into the trees as the Mustang bore down on her, grazing her leg as she just barely missed being leveled.

It continued its reckless charge, turning at the last second to spin and slam full body into the side of her SUV, rocking the vehicle up on two wheels and collapsing the driver's side in. With a speed and control that shouldn't be possible in a car that low in snow, the interception shot away from her damaged car, pulled another one-eighty, and barreled into the rear quarter panel, shoving the SUV out of the way as it passed and escaped down the road.

Darcy shook from where she still sat in the snow, her breath coming in painful gasps as her heart tried to pound its way out of her chest. Blood pumped hot in her veins but her body refused to move for some time as she waited, waited for the Mustang to come back and finish her off. Her bullets had done nothing to it and her gun was empty. She was defenseless and every muscle trembled as the roaring horsepower echoed through the snow from every direction.

She couldn't see it anymore, could only hear the growling coming closer before moving away again. Even when it finally fell silent, the engine still roared in her ears until she couldn't be sure what was real and what wasn't.

She was alive, but if she kept sitting there it might not be for long. Scrambling to her feet, every move felt sluggish and slow even as she plowed through the snow as fast as she could. Her frozen limbs only cooperated for a moment before failing, sending her to crash against the hood of her wrecked SUV. Struggling, she pulled herself around the car, yanked open the passenger door, and threw herself in.

A lump lodged itself firmly in her throat when she saw the interior damage. The driver's side was totaled completely. This vehicle was going nowhere. Jamming the key in the ignition, she tried turning it on for the heat at the very least, but the engine wouldn't turn. Frantically, she tried the laptop and CB. Both dead, both as useless as her phone. She couldn't get help, she couldn't get heat, her injured hand throbbed with every heartbeat, she was out of bullets, and there was a maniac in a muscle car out there.

For the first time in a long time, Darcy felt utterly helpless and terrified for her life. The cold was seeping the last of the feeling from her legs and arms. She was up shit creek without a paddle and without hope of any rescue.

Her body sagged against the seat as the adrenaline began to subside, beaten back by the exhaustion and cold that refused to be shaken off. She couldn't move, not even to release the death grip her hand still had on her empty gun. The shakes began to lessen, darkness encroaching on the edges of her vision.

"Come on, stay awake," she mumbled to herself, fighting her body's want for oblivion. The car was easily the same temperature as outside. It wasn't safe to fall asleep. It wasn't safe to be out here.

Trying to give her mind something to do, she started to recite the list of all the names of people who'd gone missing. A blanket, she needed a blanket. There wasn't one. Just a pair of lighter coats. Coats would do. Coats would help. Had to help. She moved in slow motion, wading through thick sludge to reach to the back seat and grab the jackets. Twice she dropped them. Finally got them over her chest. So cold. She struggled with the gun's slide to snap it back down into place. It was still useless, but it wasn't obviously empty now.

"A monster," she slurred to herself, blinking harshly, willing her eyes to stay open even as they slipped closed. "In a Mustang, that's what….what Andrew was trying to….to say."

Not even fear of it coming back was powerful enough against the cold and the darkness.