Get Lost (5 page)

Hearing the sound of footsteps, I grin proudly. “Pretty good, huh?”

An unfamiliar voice sighs. “Amazing.”

Quickly, I turn around and see an unknown face grinning at me moments before the familiar figures cloaked in black from head to toe drop from the ceiling with ropes in their hands. Before I have a moment to move an inch, the figures have me wrapped in the ropes, restraining my movements.

As I open my mouth to scream, the stranger points, and a piece of gray duct tape flies over my mouth. Instantly, he shakes his light brown, mop-top hair. “Can’t have that.”

My eyes follow as another random figure, dressed like the rest, grabs my painting and strolls over to the open window, where he walks out. Gasping under the tape, I look back at the leader, who can be no older than me, when I realize he resembles Peter, except with brown hair, brown eyes, and a less charming demeanor. “This is a terrible way for us to meet.” He shakes his head slowly, pacing back and forth in front of me, as another character drops out the window, this time with some of the art supplies I used. “I mean, here you are, all wrapped up with nowhere to go, probably terrified of who I am and what I’m going to do to you. Let me be the first to say I’m sorry things have to go this way. My name’s Alex.”

His right hand gives me a slight wave, and I notice an eye tattoo on his wrist that has five little X marks inside of it.

“And you must be Peyton Darling.” The way he says my name is soft and exciting to him. “I’ve been waiting so long to meet you. I mean, when Peter said he had found you, I figured he was on another one of his wild goose chases, but now that I see you for myself, I believe it. Peyton Darling…I never thought I’d actually be in your presence one day, but here I am.” Alex moves forward and leans in so his lips are merely centimeters from mine. “Did I mention you are much more attractive than Peter mentioned?”

Suddenly, the figures on both sides of me disappear into the thick, gray smoke I’ve come to appreciate. Alex quickly looks over his shoulder to see Justin standing there with a less than pleased look on his face.

Alex grumps. “Nice of you to join us.”

“Nice to be invited.” The words growl out of his mouth before he looks to me. “Babe, are you okay?”

I nod slowly until Alex places an arm around my shoulder. “Babe? When did you get that close?” Looking back and forth between us for a moment, he heckles. “That’s rich. What’s your precious Peter think of that?” Annoyed, Justin pulls a dagger from underneath his black sport coat and prepares to toss it. In defense, Alex begins bobbing his head behind me from shoulder to shoulder, making it nearly impossible for him to toss it without harming me.

“Oh no.” He taunts like an obnoxious, small child. “What are you going to do? Take your shot and risk your precious Peyton here, or let me go?”

“Let her go.” He pierces Alex with only his eyes this time. “Let her go, and I’ll let you live this time.”

A devious laugh escapes from Alex before he begins walking backward, dragging me with him. “Or, I’ll let you live this time.”

Suddenly, through the window, from the door behind Justin, and down from the ceiling comes a swarm of our favorite all black covered friends. Doing my best to wiggle free while being dragged, I hear Justin call out for me. “Peyton!”

My eyes watch as Justin pulls another dagger from his back pocket and immediately lunges in my direction. Effortlessly, the dagger slices through a pair of attackers on each side before arching down to annihilate another set. He continues his rescue attempt but gets caught off guard when he’s suddenly surrounded next to the very pillar where I was trapped only moments ago. With a balled up fist, he tosses a left punch and right hook and shoves his leg full force into one of their abdomens. While this only knocks the characters back momentarily, it gives him the chance to slide his daggers along their sides, which is when the thick, gray smoke appears again as they disappear.

A bit winded from dragging me, Alex is forced to stop and pant. “You’re heavy.” A beat passes before he sighs. “I really hate him.” From under the muffled tape, I try to respond. Nonchalantly, Alex rips it off and asks, “What?”

“I said I’m sure he feels the same way.” I huff out before a dagger flies between our faces and out the window. My head turns back in Justin’s direction to see him coming toward us at full speed.

“Yeah, I have to go,” Alex whispers, stepping away from me and to the window. “You! Get the girl. You, fend him off.”

I watch as Alex climbs out the window, leaving me leaned up against a pillar like some sort of broken toy. Before I know it, seven more black figures slip in through the window and bum rush Justin, who has finally reached me.

He ducks as one of the figures tosses a punch, but unexpectedly, a foot lands in his ribs. On his way down, Justin attempts to take another slice at a couple of the figures but misses. Once Justin hits the  ground, four of the attackers begin rapidly kicking him from head to toe.

To my surprise, once again, I am being dragged toward the open window. “Help!”

Somehow, Justin rolls over in the beating to see my feet halfway out, which spurs him to grab one of the feet, pull it down in his place, and scurry in my direction. Realizing he’s escaped, they follow after him.

“Duck!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. Tossing my body backward, I watch the weapon fly in the air like a boomerang, slicing through their faces as if they were pieces of fresh baked birthday cake.

They disappear, and my eyes shut in fear of the pain I’m about to feel from hitting my head as I fall. With my eyes clutching tight for dear life, I wait for the impact, confused and even more terrified that I haven’t felt it yet. Slowly, my eyes flutter open to see Justin’s face smiling down at me as his hands slide from underneath me.

After taking in his small smirk, the worst thing I’ve ever seen happens. One of the two characters left tosses its weapon, which tears a giant cut across Justin’s back. He falls to his knees before he grabs the dagger off the floor, throwing it like an arrow directly into the attacker’s heart. The last character takes one final step before realizing that its leader has left. Upset, the figure makes a leap for the widow when Justin removes what I can only imagine is the last of his toys from his inner pocket and jabs it in the calf. Falling to the floor, the figure lands beside Justin, who immediately jabs the knife into its heart, causing the character to endure the fate of all the others.

Free at last of all assailants, he limps closer to me, helps stand me up, and slides the knife down the rope, freeing me from the prison I hope I never have to experience again. My arms fly around his neck, and I squeeze tightly.

As tears begin to fall, my body shakes in his grip, while he rubs my back with two hands. “Shh…shh. It’s okay now. It’s okay.” Pulling away from him, I stare into his deep blue eyes. “I promise. You’re safe now.”

I become seized with panic. “They almost kidnapped me! They almost killed you! They could’ve killed me! What do they want, Justin? Why are they after me? I can’t believe they broke into my house! And they stole the painting, so now I’ll never get the answers I want. I—”

“Peyton,” his soft yet hurt voice whimpers. “It’s okay right now. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“No,” my hands slide down his chest, which is when I remember that he wasn’t as fortunate as I was, “but you are! Oh god, do I need to get you to the hospital? Do I need to call an ambulance? A doctor? Your parents…”

His hand casually lands in mine as he shakes his head slowly. “Hey, calm down. I’ll be okay.”

“But you’re bleeding.”

“I can take care of that.” Justin slips out of his jacket, pulls off his tie, and unbuttons his white dress up shirt. After pulling it off, he takes a small vial from his pocket and turns his back to me. Handing me the container, he instructs, “Sprinkle a little of that on it for me.”

“But…”

“Please.”

I quickly twist the lid off the clear cylinder that contains a thick, yellow sparkling powder, the kind that reminds me of the glitter I’ve found hidden in the back of the art room, and sprinkle it across the deep gash. The cut slowly begins to heal itself, as if he’s being stitched back together by a doctor, which pushes me back in shock.

“How did…how did…how did…what did…what is…I don’t…”

A small shiver runs through his body as he turns around, revealing abs that are as sculpted as his face. “You’re not supposed to understand, but if you want to, and you want those answers, I think now is the time to take you to them.” Justin picks up his attire, slips the dress shirt back on, and asks, “Am I right?” Slowly I nod, and he says, “I need you to get dressed. Think you can do that?”

“But what if they’re upstairs waiting for me? Waiting in my room to…”

“Peyton,” he interrupts once more, this time placing his free hand on my shoulder, “take a deep breath.” After I do as he instructs, he insists, “They’re not waiting for you, but I’ll wait upstairs while you change. I don’t want anything else to happen to you.”

“Okay.” My voice whimpers. Quickly, I ask, “What about you? Your shirt is ripped. Your jacket is bloody, not to mention the fact that you…”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got spare clothes in the car. Let’s just get you dressed.” He wraps one arm around my waist.

My confusion refuses to abate. “Where exactly are we going?”

He smiles. “A party.”

Not sure whether to be more annoyed or angry, I grump. “A party? My life is nearly robbed from me, and you want to take me to a party?”

Justin chuckles. “It’s not just any party, Peyton.”

Snapping my face to his, I ask, “Then, what exactly is it?”

“The kind of party that can save your life.” The answer sends a chill down my spine.

Chapter Four

Strolling out of my bedroom in a long jean skirt and long sleeved black shirt, I see Justin, still cloaked in the dirty, ripped shirt, on my couch with his jacket balled up next to him.

“That’s it?” Justin asks, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s what you wanna wear to the party?”

“I don’t have much else. I mean, I’ve got enough cocktail dresses to open a boutique, but I don’t have casual wear. I’m not casual. I’ve never even been to a party since I’ve moved here.” The words fall out of my mouth as I lean against the wall.

“Do you mind if I look?” The question seems heartfelt.

“By all means.” I usher him to my room and to my full length wall closet.

While I wait, I sit on my king sized bed, my attention drifting around my room to my faded, light blue walls with paint splashes on them. I’m desperate to repaint. Within a matter of moments, Justin turns around with a partially defeated look on his face.

“So, really nothing.”  His head bobs around for a second.

“Really.”

After a long, hard stare at me, a crooked grin comes across his face. “I have an idea. Stand up.”

Curious, I do as he asks and stand up in my black flip flops. Justin grabs the dagger from his back pocket and dips the tip in yellow dust before kneeling down in front of me. I watch as, in one clean slice, he cuts my skirt, transforming it into a mini without so much as a second thought. Quickly, he rises to his feet, tosses the fabric to the side, and takes the same blade to my shoulder. Nervous, I clench my body up as he cuts my sleeves and slices a deep V in the front. Like this is an everyday occurrence, he twirls the knife back around and slips it in his back   pocket.

“Much better.” He compliments himself. With a tilt of his head, he points to my feet. “Heels.”

“Okay.”I smile softly as Justin heads toward my door. “Hey, do you mind if I use the bathroom?” he asks.

“Sure. It’s the second door on your right.”

“What’s this one?” He points to the door in front of my room.

“Dad’s extra office. He keeps more books and paperwork in there.” I shrug it off, strolling over to my closet.

“Meet me downstairs?”

“Yeah.” I nod, searching my closet for a pair of heels.

After a quick change, I’m downstairs just in time to see Justin shirtless once more. Doing my best not to be hypnotized by the sight that would even make angels blush, I approach  his vehicle.

“I have to make a stop.” He slips into a gray, designer, button-up shirt. While buttoning it up, he sighs. “Are you okay with that?”

Sarcastically, I ask, “Will I be shot at or kidnapped?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” A small chuckle escapes him before he exchanges his black fedora for a different black fedora with a gray ribbon.

The two of us slip into the car, and I quickly buckle my seat belt, while he lets the top down. My head instantly looks up to admire the night sky, which seems to be shining brighter than usual as we pull onto the main highway.

Slightly concerned, I ask, “Where  exactly are we going?”

“Well”—he turns on his blinker, switching lanes so he is behind the only other vehicle on this stretch of the highway, “now that the Dark Watchers know  where you are, we have to make a few minor adjustments for extra security.”

“The who?” My voice squeaks.

“The guys all in black who keep attacking us.” He turns off his blinker, allowing the SUV in front of him to drift beside him, and slows down behind an eighteen-wheeler that I don’t recall seeing earlier. Before my mouth can open to question further, it’s snapped closed by the fact the trailer door flies open and a ramp hits the road, causing sparks to fly. Shifting gears, Justin drives up the ramp and into the back of the empty truck.

I turn around to see the door shutting behind us, which is when a bit of panic sweeps over my body.“Um, do you know that we’re in the truck? Like in the back? And now we’re closed in?”

“Yup.” The fact that he is nonchalant about it only seems to frighten me more. I drop my jaw to ask another question when he slides his hand over to my lap, pulls the glove compartment open, and takes out an envelope. Deciding it would probably be in my best interest to keep my mouth closed, I rest my head on the back of the seat, surprised that there are lights back here.

I watch as Justin pulls out a stack of seaweed green paper that resembles cash that has been washed one too many times. My eyes notice that the faces in the middle of the bills aren’t presidents, however, so much as something that could easily be mistaken for a mermaid. Folding a wad of it up, he slides it in his pocket and the envelope back into the glove compartment.

“You’re nervous.” His voice coos as his head turns to face mine. As there’s no response, he quickly sighs.

“Don’t be.”

“How can you tell me not to be? I’ve been shot at, car chased, almost kidnapped, and robbed within a matter of days.”

“And haven’t I been there every step of the way to protect you? To save you?”

“Well yeah, but—”

“But what, Peyton? If that doesn’t help console your fears, what will? Why do you feel you can’t trust me?” The words sound as if they are sneaking up from a broken place in his heart.

“It’s not that I don’t feel I can’t trust you, it’s…”

“What?” he asks quickly. “What is it, then?”

“Trust is like a vase, Justin. Once you break it, you can fix it, but it’ll never be the same.” The words slip off my tongue slowly. “My father taught me that. So, yeah, you’ve saved my life, but you won’t tell me why my life is at risk. It’s not easy following you around blindly. I want to trust you, but I just don’t know. I just don’t.”

His hand slides over to mine, folding it in tightly, before he nods. “Shakespeare once said, ‘If to do were as easy to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches and poor men’s cottages, princes’ palaces.’”

Suddenly, the truck comes to a halt, and I try to paint a warmer smile on my face. He’s right. If everything in life were easy to do, it wouldn’t really be called living. The truck’s back door slides itself open, and Justin motions for us to get out. Following his move, I exit the car and move down the ramp to enter a warehouse. “My favorite customer,” cackles a small man with no hair on top. Quickly, he waves his stubby, peach colored arms, motioning us in his direction. “Come, come. Come see the amazing things I have got in store for you!”

“We’re  coming, Jimmy.” Justin grabs my hand to pull me closer to him.

We follow him down a narrow hallway and into a large showroom, the kind you usually see luxury sports cars displayed in; where model vehicles should be are oversized boats the size of extravagant yachts. Jimmy hits a button on the wall, and wood panel doors flip over to reveal walls and walls of swords, daggers, knives, guns, and every other weapon imaginable, unimaginable, and for that matter, known and unknown to man.

“Wow.” My voice squeaks. “What is this place?”

Ignoring my question, he drags me over to the wall of swords and begins admiring them like pieces of art. “Here’s the problem, Jimmy. These are state of the art.”

“One blow, one blast.” Jimmy jumps in excitement, clapping his hands. “One thrust, one go. These are the best, Justin!”

Justin holds up a hand to help calm Jimmy down before he continues. “But here, trying to conceal these things is a problem. Sure, at home, it’s no big whoop carrying around something this small,” his hand points to something almost as tall as me, “but    here…”

“I see, I see.” The man nods his head profusely and hums to himself a few times. Quickly, the words rush out of his mouth. “What about this? This is a great sword. Swift! Sturdy! Chic!”

“I’m looking for weapons dagger size.” Justin points toward the wall full of sparkling objects similar to those he was using earlier.

“But, you have so many of those.” Jimmy whines. “Then, give me something to work with.”

“What about a retractable sword?” The offer stops Justin in his tracks. Slowly, he turns around, and a creepy grin crawls across Jimmy’s face. “Ah, yes, a retractable sword. How about one custommade for you? To look like anything you want.”

“I doubt you could make it look like a tie.”

“Is that a challenge?” A gleam overcomes Jimmy.

“Is it?” Justin winks as he glances over the swords. “I would need one with the buoyancy of that one.” His hand extends to a black handled one toward the top. Lowering his hand, then, he points to one with a black blade. “And the perfect precision of that one.” After lingering for a minute, he points to a sword whose handle is rustic. “And  the authenticity of this one.”

“I can do that for you.” He agrees, nodding his head and twiddling his thumbs. “When do you need it?”

“ASAP.” Justin tilts his hat up and leads me toward a series of different types of crossbows and weapons that require arrows. With a pleased look, he sighs. “Now, these I like.”

His hand slides away from mine as he picks up a painted green crossbow that has a round of small, silver bolts attached. Confused, I stare at the contraption, which resembles a sniper rifle with a scope mounted on the top. Happily, he slowly turns around to Jimmy’s direction. The look of pleasure is immediately erased from his face, which forces me to turn my head to a sight I’m frankly tired of seeing.

“Jimmy,” Justin says through gritted teeth. “Promise you won’t charge me?”

“For what?” Jimmy’s unsteady voice croaks as he pulls on his bright red suspenders.

“This.” A silver bolt blazes out of the weapon and straight through the foreheads of two Dark Watchers. As they disappear into thick smoke, the crossbow automatically loads another bolt, allowing Justin to fire directly down the hallway, where more Dark Watchers are flooding through.

Grabbing another weapon similar to the one in his hand, he snaps. “Get down!”

Suddenly, tiny bead like bullets come flying from all directions as we scamper across the floor toward the boats spinning on the showroom floor. Jimmy’s tiny legs move as fast as they can to keep up with us as he tosses what looks like a tennis ball in their direction.

A moment later, a minor explosion comes from the ball that layers dark red smoke around us, giving us the chance to disappear into the opening of the giant, white boat without being seen.

Once inside, I rest my head against the door and croak. “You said I wouldn’t get shot at!”

“To be fair, I said not that I know of.”

“Seriously,” I huff and move the hair out of my face, “how did they find us?”

“I don’t know,” Justin answers, loading up the other crossbow he grabbed. This one has a hot pink handle and gold bolts attached. Quickly, he hands it to me and shakes his head. “But believe me, I’m going to find out.” Shaking, my jaw bobs up and down as Jimmy begins opening different compartments in the basement of the boat while muttering. “No one is supposed to know I’m here. No one, Justin. That’s why we conduct business the way we do.”

Justin snaps angrily, checking the empty compartments as well. “Don’t you think I know that?”

“Then, why are they here?” The elf sized weapons dealer grumbles, discovering a set of white golf balls that I assume aren’t actually golf balls.

With a deep breath, Justin heads toward the set of steep stairs. “I don’t know, Jimmy. But for right now, Peyton, I need you to use that thing in your    hands.”

“What do you expect me to do? Throw it? I’ve never used let alone even seen anything like this before! I mean, I—”

Suddenly, the sound of bullets pinging off the outside of the boat assails us. Surprised they aren’t penetrating through, Justin asks, “Did you bulletproof this one?”

Jimmy proudly nods. “A little bit.”

“Nice.” Justin’s approval is followed by my highpitched scream as a bullet hits the wall beside me.

“Um, can we focus here?” I yell, the weapon quivering in my hands.

“Peyton, you ever played a video game?”

“Once or twice.”

“It’s just like that, except instead of bonus points when you hit several in a row, you get to enjoy having a few more moments to live.” The attempt at comforting me fails as he rambos his way up the stairs.

Giving my hair a ruffle, I ask Jimmy, “Was that seriously supposed to be motivational? Because, if so, I think he’s losing his touch.” Jimmy barks a small laugh, and I whine.“How exactly are we supposed to help him from down here?”

“Easy.” Jimmy pushes a big, red button on the wall next to the door. Small peepholes pop up around the ship, giving us access to view Dark Watchers falling from the vents in the ceiling as well as strolling down the hall. “Installed these along with a few other things I knew would come in handy to anyone on this ship.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Jimmy slides a wood panel over and pulls a small lever, and compartments below the peepholes  fall open full of swords, daggers, and rows of small, colorful arrows.

The sound of Justin’s bolts hitting the attackers draw my attention back to the problem at hand. Nervous, I raise my weapon to the window, slide the glass open, look through the scope, and pinpoint my sights on the ones falling from the ceiling. With a lucky shot, my first bolt flies through the air and lands right in one’s heart. However, instead of disappearing into thin  air, the character’s face, which isn’t covered by a mask this time, turns a bright blue color before dropping off the rope and to the ground, where it dashes into the now familiar thick, gray smoke.