Wildefire Series: Wildefire Part 5

"Boys," Ash muttered. She looked into her gla.s.s. A few sips shy of empty. "I need a refill," she said, but the boys had already tuned her out, sucked back into their game.

Halfway to the bar Ash spotted two newcomers nestled in a corner booth. The young man, with his five o'clock shadow, close-cropped hair, and olive complexion nearly as dark as Ashline's, didn't match her memory for anyone she'd seen at Blackwood. He looked too old to be a student, and yet was still out of place in this bar. The girl smoldering next to him, however, Ash was indirectly acquainted with: Raja, an Egyptian G.o.ddess of sorts on campus, with a reputation for being "standoffish," to put it lightly. For the few games of Who Would You Do?

that Ash had been present for at the boys' lunch table, Raja had always come out on top. Ash had met her only 61 once, at one of Bobby's nefarious soccer parties. When Ash had offered her a drink, Raja had just stood up and walked away. When Ash had pa.s.sed her in the hallways, she had observed Raja gliding through the living world like a ghost, mentally somewhere else-home, college, traveling the world. Who knew?

Tonight things were different. The young man was impossibly ignoring his drop-dead gorgeous companion in favor of fixing Ash within his sites.

Ash dropped onto the bar stool next to Lily and tried to ignore them. Ray was busy refilling the pitcher. "Rolfe's a d.i.c.k," she said to Lily.

Lily just shrugged.

s.h.i.t, Ashline thought. She'd never been good at this whole girl-talk opening-up nonsense, and Lily wasn't making things any easier. "If you like him," she tried, "maybe you should just ask him out."

"Let me spell this out for you," Lily said in such a surprising display of anger that even Ray looked up from what he was doing. The pitcher overflowed. "I've been to a dozen American schools since the fifth grade. Each and every one has had its own Rolfe Hanssen, and they're all the same. So for the final time, let the record show that I do not have the hots for Rolfe."

Ash sat stunned. "I'm sorry. I-"

"No, I'm sorry." Lily was rifling through her handbag, fl.u.s.tered now. "I'm just sick of being asked." She fished out the ten, tossed it onto the bar top, and waved Ray off when he tried to give her change.

62.

"Well, if you want to talk . . ."

But Lily was looking behind her. "You've got company," she whispered. And like that, she picked up her pitcher and disappeared back into the billiard room.

That's when Ashline felt his presence looming behind her. He lingered silently, just within the boundaries of her peripheral vision. He wasn't begging to be noticed, like any other barfly would.

"You're blocking my sunlight, pal," Ash said over her shoulder. She refused to validate him by meeting his gaze.

"I'm not an eclipse, just an admirer who wanted to introduce himself." He slipped onto the bar stool next to her and extended his hand. "Colt Halliday." The older boy who'd been sitting next to Raja-if she could call him a "boy" at all.

"Colt Halliday?" she repeated, but ignored his outstretched hand. "Sweet name. Isn't there a stagecoach somewhere you should be robbing?"

"I left my six-shooter in my other jeans." His voice was rich and just a tad breathy when he talked, like the whisper of silk against metal. When Ash met someone for the first time, she sometimes got an instant flash of images, as if she could see a person's soul defined within a single painting. When Colt talked, Ash saw crimson and smoke.

"A bandit with a sense of humor," Ash said. "New student at Blackwood? Haven't seen you around."

"No, I'm finishing up my first year down at Humboldt, but I work most of the week up here as a park ranger." He 63 leaned against the counter, bringing his sharp cheekbones into profile as he motioned to Ray for another drink. The lines of his face were so angular that his cheeks and chin could have been the cut facets of a diamond. "So are you going to tell me your name, or am I going to have to start guessing?"

Ash shrugged playfully.

"Fine." He sighed. "I'll start reverse alphabetically, but stop me if I get it right. Zora? Zoey? Zelda-"

"Okay, okay! It's Ashline," she conceded, but couldn't hold back her laughter.

"I know. Raja told me." Colt smiled and held out his hand again. "Just wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth."

"You better not be calling me a horse." Ash finally took his hand, which engulfed hers. Only then did she notice the girth of his forearms, which were so thick and toned that she could follow the veins from his elbow down to his wrist. "Christ, Halliday, the lumberjack union called. They want their arms back. Do you protect the forest, or cut it down?"

He smirked and squeezed her hand lightly before he severed contact. "Not much to do when you're out on patrol except climb trees and box with Smokey the Bear."

"I bet you win, too," she said.

She took a shameless moment to size him up and catalog everything she knew about him already into two lists.

64.

PROS:.

1. Just under six feet tall, a comfortable height for her 2. Arms that could put even her thighs to shame 3. Rugged and confident in a way the high school boys could never be 4. Most important, he was unlike anyone she could have met back home CONS:.

1. If he had an athlete's body, he might have the athlete mentality to match 2. Friends (?) with Raja 3. Now that she was close enough to smell him, she detected a faint scent of- "Is that jasmine?" Ash wrinkled her nose. "Are you wearing Dior?"

Colt sniffed his T-shirt and then sheepishly rubbed his sleeve. "Raja practically crop-dusted my car with it on the way here." He scanned the bar from front to back.

"I'm not sure who exactly she was hoping that the perfume would attract . . ."

"I'm just impressed that a perfume-wearing, park-protecting college freshman can still find time to take underage high school students on dates to the bar." Ash whistled. "Mom must be so proud."

"Who, Raja? She's just a friend."

65.

Ash glanced back in Raja's direction. Given the intensity of Raja's stare, Ash was surprised that she hadn't spontaneously combusted yet. "Well, your friend looks like she's about to breathe fire for being neglected in the corner. Given the state of the bar clientele"-she panned the room with her best judgmental look-"I can't say I blame her."

He laughed. "Raja's a firecracker. She can fend for herself. Besides, you haven't even let me buy you a drink yet."

Ash opened her mouth, about to cave into the charming inquiries of the handsome park ranger. And then the scream pierced the air.

The scream was certainly human-female, more precisely-but it stretched into an octave that Ash didn't even know she was capable of hearing. It penetrated her eardrums so startlingly that she couldn't help but clamp her hands over ears. The wail infiltrated even her deepest recesses, and her body transformed into a human tuning fork.

"Are you okay?" Colt asked.

"Okay?" she started to ask. Hadn't he heard it too?

The screaming instantly stopped, as if the valve of pain had been wrenched to the off position. He placed a hand on her elbow.

"I . . ." Ash stopped herself and gazed around the Bent Horseshoe. The barflies were continuing their business.

Their laughter and harrowing stories of the woman-or the fish-that got away had been undisturbed by the 66 screaming. Even Ray was continuing to polish a gla.s.s as if nothing had happened.

Had she really been the only one to hear it?

"Migraine," Ash lied. "Guess all that amaretto went to my head." Better that he write her off as a lightweight than think she was some kook who heard imaginary screams.

Before Ash could even try to sell this theory, a second scream perforated her brain. This one was a short blast rather than a prolonged wail, but far crisper, as though the person screaming had settled on Ash's frequency. Closer this time too. The screamer could have been standing directly behind her.

Then a cleaver chopped down and severed the connection between Ashline and the scream.

While the rest of the bar continued with their drinks undisturbed, Ash heard a splash of beads behind her.

Lily emerged from the pool room, spooked, and Ade and Rolfe appeared at her side, both looking equally alert and frantic. In the far corner Raja, too, had straightened up, a panicked gleam in her eye.

No way could it have been coincidence.

So they had heard it as well.

The scream still echoed hollowly in Ashline's ears.

"I'm sorry, Colt," she apologized, and slipped past him.

"I . . . I have to get some air."

She vaguely heard Colt's confused protests as she darted for the door, as well as shouts from Jackie and Darren. She stumbled over a stool on the way out, but 67 shoved it out of her path and dove for the door, barging out into the night.

The cold damp air was like a welcome slap to the face as she staggered into the parking lot. She placed her hands on her hips and paced, drawing in deep breaths.

She let the dew calm her, relax her, carry her away from the screaming.

With a crack the door shot open again. This time Rolfe, Ade, and Lily came through it, with Raja in their wake. Rolfe was tapping himself on the temple, as if he could knock the sound out of his head. It must have still been ringing in his ears as well.

The five of them stood there in silence, fanned out into a pentagon. Raja, with her arms crossed, was the first to speak. "So I guess I'm not the only one who heard the dog whistle from h.e.l.l."

Rolfe gave his ear a final slap. "If that was a dog whistle, I'll eat my shirt. Although that would explain why Lily heard it."

"Shut it, surfer boy." Lily kicked him in the shin.

"I don't know what it was either." Ade scanned the parking lot. "But I think somebody needs help."

On cue the scream echoed across the pavement, only this time it sounded like the typical scream from somebody who was in desperate trouble . . . and it was coming from the alleyway behind the general store, two storefronts down.

Raja was the first to spring into action, with the other 68 four in close pursuit. The dust flew out from under their feet, and they reached the edge of the general store in record time, slipping down the alley of the adjoining bed-and-breakfast. The scream descended to a series of shrieks and sobs, and when they drew closer to the source of the noise, they could hear something even more terrifying-the hurried whisper of male voices.

By the time Ash approached the end of the alleyway, the buzz of alcohol had been replaced with the thrum of adrenaline in her veins, and she rocketed forward, pushing past Raja and taking the lead.

When they spilled out into the clearing behind the buildings, she first noticed the men-two of them, cloaked in dark clothes and camouflage hats. One was in the process of opening the back door to a green windowless van. The other had his hands wrapped around the waist of a pet.i.te blond girl, who was clutching desperately to the railing of the general store loading dock.

And when the girl flailed her head to the side, revealing the face behind her endlessly long blond hair, Ash recognized her: Serena Andreotes, a freshman at Blackwood.

She had hair so fair it was nearly white, which descended all the way down to her waist. Her skin was almost as light-not quite to the point of being albino, but certainly pale compared to the olive complexion Ash a.s.soci-ated with the Mediterranean. Her most stunning feature was her eyes, two irises of vibrant gray that gave her a commanding presence despite her diminutive stature.

69.

It was thus all the more ironic that Serena Andreotes was completely blind.

Everybody stopped what they were doing. Ash studied the two kidnappers in the insane silence of the alleyway, and they studied her and the others right back. Even Serena had stopped squirming when she'd heard the footsteps round the corner. Although Ash guessed that she was trying to determine whether the new arrivals had to come to rescue her or whether they were possibly rein-forcements for her kidnappers.

For a few interminable seconds, as they all tottered on the precipice of madness, Ash could only hear the wind in her ears and smell the faint scent of garbage rising from the nearby Dumpster.

Rolfe was the first to break the silence and vocalize precisely what Ash had on her own mind, but distilled down into three simple words: "What the h.e.l.l?"

Those three words stirred the parking lot back into motion, sending the scene from pause to fast-forward.

The man who had been opening the van grabbed hold of Serena's ankles and, along with the second man, began to tug, trying to break her hold on the railing so they could complete the abduction before the new arrivals could interfere.

But so too had the students sprung to life. Ade lunged forward, with his enormous hands poised to attack. The man holding Serena's legs quickly but calmly released 70 her and stepped toward the bear of a human being who was charging him. Ade had made it to within an arm's length when the kidnapper grabbed one of the boy's arms and threw him against the back wall of the general store.

Before Ade could react, the man punished him with a brutal blow to his stomach.

But Ash wasn't about to stand by and let Ade fall.

Fueled only by adrenaline and rage, and letting reason and fear take a backseat, Ash scooped up Serena's fallen walking stick. The soldier holding Ade was just bringing back his fist, this time to strike Ade in the face, when Ash swung the wooden staff around. The metal orb on top of it walloped the man in the nose, instantly breaking it.

Blood spurted out of his nostrils and onto the pavement.

Ash held out the cane, ready to strike again should she need to. Meanwhile, out of the corner of her eye, she saw Lily free the pepper spray from her purse and charge Serena's other captor. She released a battle cry and let loose a stream intended for the man's eyes. He dodged the spray, but at the price of releasing his grip on Serena.

The two kidnappers must have reached the conclu-sion simultaneously that, despite whatever combat training they'd had, they had quickly lost control of what should have been an uncomplicated abduction. With Ashline's attention momentarily diverted, the man with the broken nose easily hip-checked her as he dove into the back of the van, and Ash collapsed silently to the dusty street. The other man slipped through Rolfe's grasp 71 and clambered into the front seat. The tires screeched against pavement, and the van barreled down the alleyway and onto the main drag, with the back doors still flapping open.

Ash used the walking stick to stand up, and then let it clatter to the pavement next to her. Rolfe crossed over and helped Ade, who was rubbing his stomach tenderly, to his feet. Raja had her hands on her hips and was staring at the skid marks the van had left, while Lily slipped the pepper spray back into her purse.

Then, as one, they all turned to look at Serena.

The pet.i.te girl used the railing to pull herself slowly to her feet. Considering that she'd kept at bay two men twice her size, it was astonishing that she stood barely five feet tall at eighty-five pounds. Her face looked even paler than usual-she always reminded Ash of an ivory stone that had spent years churned and tossed by the sea, to eventually wash ash.o.r.e milky and smooth on a foreign coast.