Till Deceived Do We Part

The right size lifted and flipped, gaining momentum no matter how hard I pressed the break, and before long, the car was airborne, flipping as it went. I didn’t scream, for it wouldn’t accomplish anything. I merely gripped the steering well with one hand, and covered my head with other.

Fear slammed through my chest and I had to fight the growing panic. I had never been in a car crash before, and I knocked on wood many times to try and keep it that way. Apparently my luck was gone. However, the fear that hit me the most was the who shooting at me. Was it someone pulling my hit? Or Dalton’s men? I suppose I would learn that as I landed. Somehow, that wasn’t a comforting thought.

I know it only took a couple of seconds to happen, but it seemed time froze as the car was suspended in air, my body dangling down from my seat belt. I could faintly hear Jake’s voice in the background, but as I hung in the air, seeing the road below me, my ears seemed to go deaf. It felt as if I stayed like that forever, and when reality did snap back into place, I wished it hadn’t.

My car crashed down into the trees, shattering the windshield and side windows immediately, the back window following shortly. My whole dash board crunched, the back seat in my car being compacted into oblivion. The impact jerked my whole body, sending my head slamming into the steering wheel, activating the air bag, which slammed right back into my face, smashing my nose. My neck whipped to the side and my whole body compacted down as the car rolled once more, barely managing to flip through the trees. My chest remained relevantly unharmed, due to the kevlar vest.

The car finally groaned to a complete stop; upside down. My body dangled, seeming to be on fire. Every bone, every muscle, burned. My vision blurred, and blood dribbled down my chin. I couldn’t keep the groan from leaving me. I was damn lucky to be alive, and damn lucky the roof of my car had only been pressed down slightly. The sides of the car were all smashed and compacted, but I couldn’t look at them. They were covered in red. Blood. My blood. Hell.

What blood I had left in me, rushed to my head, making my vision swim even more. I had to get down, but part of me didn’t want to move.

My hands fumbled clumsily with one of my daggers. I gripped it tightly as I sawed off my seat belt. However, I soon realized I didn’t think that action through.

My body fell from where it was hanging, hitting the bottom of my car, and many shards of glass, as it landed. I hissed in pain and went to push myself up, only for a cry of pain to leave my lips as I dropped right back down.

My blurry eyes wandered to my arm, which felt as if it had been dripped in gasoline and lit on fire. The bandages were still on, but they were soaked with blood and covered in protruding shards of glass. Also, it was bent at a funny angle. I took a shaky breath and pushed myself into a semi sitting position with my good arm.

I had to think. I didn’t smell gasoline, so I should be safe from burning to death, but I did hear voices. Voices coming to check if I was alive, or to retrieve my dead body as proof? Did it really matter?

I jerked at the door with my hand, but it didn’t even budge; didn’t even move. It was too much for me to do. My hand went to my aching head as I held it for a moment, trying to come to bearings. It only made it worse. I puled my hand away and felt my stomach churn. It was covered in blood. That would explain the wave of dizziness approaching me, and the need to give into it.

Instead, I fumbled for my phone. I had been on blue tooth when the crash happened, but my phone had been... in my pocket? Something hard was in my pocket, I could only hope it wasn’t more glass.

It wasn’t, and I felt a wave of relief hit me as I pulled it out. Obviously the crash had disabled the blue tooth, but I was praying that my phone would still work. I held it clumsily, and flipped it open. My screen was cracked and bloody... bloody? Was I bleeding from my side, too? I wouldn’t doubt it.

I pressed the 911 button before taking off the back. If I was going to get kidnapped, I would be damned if no one could find me. And if I was about to get killed, I would be damned if my body didn’t at least get buried, away from the hungry wildlife.

I removed the battery, my fingers fumbling worse, my vision blurring dangerously. The voices grew closer, but I ignored them. Now was not a time for panic. I finally managed to lift the small metal piece off, and was able to get to the GPS. It took much longer than I wished it to, to get the small device out, but I managed. I fumbled again of where to store it. My pockets would surely be checked if this was a kidnapping, so I opted for my socks. My bra was my first thought, but with the kevlar vest, that would take way too long to get to.

My ears strained, listening to the voices. If I could only make them out...

“You idiot!”

“How the hell was I to-“ the man was cut off by the sound of flesh hitting flesh. I didn’t spare him any sympathy. There was a momentary silence, before the first man spoke again.

“She had better be alive. Dalton will murde-“ Alive. That was all I needed to know. They couldn’t kill me, so if they were about to take me, I was going to take down as many of them as I could.

I grabbed the gun I had strapped to myself, for I had no idea where the M16 had gone to. I wasn’t in a state to look for it, either. I flicked the safety off, and aimed at the sound of voices, for I couldn’t see anything. I closed my eyes, to get rid of the on wash of dizziness, and then fired.

Bingo. I heard a body drop before the yells broke out. I aimed at another sound and fired, my eyes still closed. It made target, but judging by the curses, I didn’t kill this one. What did I expect? I had my eyes closed and blood was leaving every part of my body. I kept firing, issuing the panic, until my gun clicked empty. I cursed and reached for another one. They used this time.

I heard them before I saw them, not that my sight was very well at the moment. I had opened my eyes, but all I could make out were shapes. Dark, blob of shapes. I hadn’t found my other gun yet, or my ammo, so when I saw a dark figure reaching through the shattered windshield, I lashed out with my dagger, The shape cried out, jerking back.

“Hit her!” Screamed a voice. My fingers searched again for my gun, and just as I found it, my head lifting, a large object came through the windshield and smashed into my skull. Pain shot through me and my mind swirled, falling into the darkness. I almost went happily, too. Almost.

“Come onnn,” he drawls, dragging out the word. I don’t move. I just stare at him with my big blue eyes, waiting. I knew he’d cave. He always did. I just had to be patient, and while I’m usually not the one with the patience, he’s worse. Most of the times, anyways. His lively blue eyes stare right back at me, defiance and annoyance written in them. But I could see him crumbling, see his resolve faltering. “Fine.” He snapped, tossing me the gun neither of us were supposed to have.

He borrowed it... without anyone knowing, then wanted me to go exploring with him, since he had always thought Flint, the other boy near our age, was snooty. I agreed to go, on the condition I was the one to use and hold the gun. I had loved them since my first shot from one... which wasn’t supposed to happen, but they had left the gun on the table...

I shot him a smile and revelled in the way the cool metal felt against my bare hand.

“Now can we go?” I nod, about to follow him when I pause, my eyes scanning the hallway.

“We should hide this-“

”Yes, that would have been wise.” I spin, dropping the gun, as Zane also spins, plastering on his best innocent look as possible. Hard to do with the evidence laying on the ground, but I gave him an A for effort.

“Jake, I-“ started Zane, but Jake cut him off.

“No, Zane. You took what did not belong to you. And you got Andrayka inolve-“

”It’s Drake.” I say stubbornly, using the nickname he had called me since I arrived. “And I act on my own accord, Zane does not-“

”No, he does not. But he does put some horrible thoughts into your head, Andra-“

”Drake!” I hated my full name. Flint always mocked me with it, and Jake only used it when I was in trouble. I hated it. Jake stared down at our small frames, Zane acting innocent, mine acting stubborn.

“Zane, you can’t expect me not to punish yo-“

”But I didn’t mean anything bad! We weren’t going to fire it, just go exploring. Drake and I were going t-“

”You meant no harm, but the rules are there for a reason. You and Andray-“

”Drake!” I screamed, my anger boiling. “It’s Drake! Drake! Drake!”

“Drake? Drake? Come on, wake up Drake.” My name kept repeating over and over into my mind, but I didn’t know why. I just wanted it to shut up. I wanted to sleep, to ignore the flaming pain that suddenly arose. I let out a hiss of pain, my body arching slightly, as if it was trying to get away from the pain.

My mouth tasted vile, having multiple flavours. Blood was one, dirt another, and just a sense of dehydration. I was thirsty. My head was pounding, as if there was a small little man in there, smashing a mallet against my skull every second. The front of my head was the worst, so tender that moving upset it. My nose was aching, but judging by the pain and how much I could move it, it wasn’t broken. It had been close, but not close enough. My arm was the worst, searing so bad it almost brought tears to my eyes. It was like continuous pin pricks, never stopping, never ceasing. They came and came, and it took me a moment to notice for when I did open my eyes, my vision took a while to come, but my arm was re-wrapped. It didn’t do much to help, however, only stopped the blood. But it was broken now, completely out of the game.

My neck ached, my guess was whiplash. My back screamed every time I so much as twitched, and my stomach was strangely sore. It was as if I had went over and above my normal sit up routine, which I hadn’t. It hurt to move, the muscles not liking to cooperate. My ankle was relatively the same as it had been, but my arms and my hands were covered in scrapes and cuts from broken glass, some in which would leave scars, others which would fade over time.

I was laying on a cement floor, a drain not far from me. A drain? I glanced slowly at the wall, and saw the chains and shackles. This was a small torture cell, with a drain for the blood. Bars surrounded me, and I found no way to escape the cell, short from stuffing myself through the bars. There was a small ventilation shaft outside of the cell, but it also held bars and a padlock. No movie escapes, then. Everything was dark, and though I could make out a few dark shapes, I paid no mind to them. I had to get out.

I groaned s I tried to push myself into a sitting position. It took more effort than it should have, and left me gasping for air. My eyes shut tightly as I tried to block out the pain and the pounding of my skull. I had to think. I was wherever Dalton was. Locked in a cell. With way too many injuries.

“Drake? You’re awake?” A sigh of relief followed as confusion hit me. My heard sped rapidly and my palms grew sweaty. Who could possibly know my name down here? Part of my mind recognized that voice, the other part rebelled against it. It wouldn’t be. After all the effort, after all the pain from the crash, it just couldn’t be.

“Drake? Can you hear me?” I stared at the sound of the direction, my heart hammering against my chest, my throat constricting.

“Who are you?” I managed out, my voice faltering, not believing, not daring to get my hopes up. How could such a horrible event, such as the accident, bring me back to Zane? Was the world that cruel?

“It’s me, babe. Zane. Your brother?” His voice sounded lost, and I felt more pain hit me. This couldn’t be! It was some sick joke, some hallucination. I stifled my hasp in pain from my moments, as I curled into a ball, just wanting the sound of his voice to go away. This was just too much. “Come on, it’s me. Really.” His voice sounded low, and my gut clenched at that. “How’s Dane?” He murmured, catching me off guard. I lifted my head, my bloody blonde hair falling across my face. My heart caught in my throat, but I inched myself towards him, ignoring all the screams of agony my body shot to my mind. I had to know.

I crawled, one-handed. When I got close enough to see him clearly, I froze. No. This wasn’t Zane. It couldn’t be.

He was hunched next to the bars, his hands hanging through, trying to be as close to me as possible. His arm was black and blue, literally. No pale flesh shone through the bruises, no place was left unmarked. He was shirtless, only wearing a very ripped pair of pants. His chest was covered in crisscrosses of red scars, and what looked like burn marks. He had no bruises on his chest, but he did have a burn mark in the shape of a D. Something that shot fury down my spine.

His face, when I finally had the guts to look, was even worth. Both eyes were swollen, but the on was open just a sliver. That sliver was enough to tell me that it was Zane. Both were completely black, and the one had a nasty looking cut right beside it, as if they had missed his eye with a knife. A shiver ran down me at the thought of him coming so close to losing an eye. His nose was soaked in blood that had dried and dripped down his chin. He also had dried blood there, also. His face held on pale flesh to be seen either.

His right arm was completely broken, the radius bone bent backwards past the humerus. Jake had taught his first aid skills, but I didn’t think I could do much to him. It was also covered in bruises and more scars. His ankle was also swolen as big as his head, and all in all, I couldn’t look. My eyes tore away from him, my breath coming in fast. It couldn’t be Zane, it just couldn’t be.

But I knew better. I don’t think you want to find your friend. That, you surely won’t be able to stomach. He had been right. This was Zane after torture, and it made me sick. This was Zane holding strong, and it killed me. Here he was getting the shit beaten out of him, while I went on dates with Dane. While me and Flint chased our tails coming up with nothing. He had been alone in for days!

I turned and vomited, my body shaking the whole time. I gasped, my good hand supporting me. Zane didn’t deserve any of this, and if I ever got my hands on Dalton, he was going to pay. Big time.

“Drake? You okay?” Was I okay? I ignored his words, and despite my biggest urge to get away from him, to pretend he was okay, I crawled towards him. He had been alone too long. When I reached him, I gripped his hand, ignoring the swollen areas. I just revelled in the fact he was alive. Zane was alive. I leant my head against the bars, not caring that it was highly uncomfortable or that it made my headache worse. I just had to get close to him. He gave me a weak smile, pulling his bruised face up and earning a wince from him.

“You were unconscious for so long. I was afraid for you.” His voice held pain and fear, and I gripped his hand tighter.

“How do you think I felt about you?” He gave me another weak smile, this time smaller.

“What’s happening, Drake? They were in the midst of... things.” His eyes travelled down to his chest, and I felt my anger grow. I was going to kill those bastards. “Then they stopped. Just stopped and packed. Knocked me unconscious, and when I woke, I was here. A while later they tossed you in and...” his voice caught, and I gave his hand another reassuring squeeze.

“I killed Lincoln.” Zane turned to me, his eyes almost chilling. This time, when he smiled, it reached his eyes. It pained him, but he didn’t stop.

“That’s my girl.” When I didn’t return his smile, he frowned. “What happened?” He had been gone through it all, been tortured and held captive, but somehow, he still knew something as bugging me. That something was wrong. While we both knew we should be discussing what to do, we both knew we weren’t up for it. So instead, I told him what happened. Along with everything else that had taken place since his disappearance.

He stared at me, his hand gently stroking mine. Most would take this as a sexual gesture, but it was anything but. It was fraternal.

“I’ll bring him back just to kill him.” He hissed, his voice full of venom. It made me feel better. “And Jake? A brother?” he cursed, a low whistle leaving him. “I had no clue, Drake. But you know you’ll have to forgive him, right? It’s Jake. Milk it for all its worth, get more info about the guy who has the same blood line as you, then drop it. There’s not much more you can do.” I knew that, but hearing it seemed to lift the weight off my shoulders. I shot him a smile, and a small nod, before getting to the facts at hand.

“Dalton? Learn anything?” He had.