CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: LOST (Draft 1)

 

When Victor and Max walked into the mayor’s office, discussing on the next step to find the amateurs who had snuck into the police station, they did not expect her office to be turned inside out. They found Alexandra on her chair, clutching her temples – appearing exhausted and anxious. 

Victor swept his gaze across the room, analysing the mess that the mayor had made along with her disheveled appearance. 
“What’s wrong, Alex?” 

“My phone...” she whispered hoarsely. “I can’t find it.” 

 

Blaze frowned as she tapped her foot impatiently. She and Chloe had been waiting outside a strange salon upon her mother’s request for about half an hour. 

“Where is she?” She sighed. 

Chloe pursed her lips. 
“Maybe she’s taking time to come because she’s sick?” 

Blaze blinked at her best friend. 
“She’s not sick.” 

“She’s not?” Chloe tilted her head. “I could’ve sworn that she sounded sick over the phone.” 

Blaze turned her gaze towards the salon. 
Every building on the street looked rundown and crumbling. 
Every person they passed had given them strange looks – as if they did not belong. 

Every little thing on the street made her feel uneasy. Unsettled. Like they had walked into something they will never get out of. 

Then suddenly, her hand gripped Chloe’s arm, her eyes widening at realisation. 
“Chloe...” 

Chloe didn’t respond at first – her eyes fixed on the danger that encircled them. 
“Blaze...” she breathed. 

They both realised it at the same time. 

This was no salon. 
There was no meetup with her mother. 
This was a trap. 

Men – maybe four or five – began closing in from every direction, emerging from alleys and abandoned shops, each step deliberate. They wore smug grins and cracked their knuckles as they grew closer to the girls, one of them even grabbing a gun from under his shirt. 

Blaze took a step back, still clutching on Chloe’s arm. 

There was no one else around. No one to hear their screams. No one to save them. 

 

Scarlet walked down the street. 

From the moment she had reached the main street, she sensed someone trailing her. 
Was it James? 
Or Blue? 

She looked over her shoulder. 
Or maybe not. 

He wore a faded t-shirt, a silver chain and ripped blue jeans. 
Tattoos snaked down his neck and both arms. 

She picked up her pace. 
But so did he. 

She turned around the corner. 
But so did he. 

She turned again. 
And again. 
And again. 

But so did he. 

As she turned the final corner, she found herself trapped in a closed alleyway. 

Oh no. 

 

Flame lazily opened his eyes, yawning loudly and sitting up. He gave a long stretch before rubbing his eyes. 

He spotted Gio already dressed and leaning against the closet. He wore a sleepy grin. 
“Morning G.” 

Gio leaned against his closet. 
“Morning sleepyhead. How about we head to a café for breakfast?” 

Flame and Gio walked down the stairs, laughing at their own stupid jokes and half-baked stories. 

Gio shot Flame a knowing smile, 
“You know... Scarlet seems nice.” 

“Don’t–” Flame warned, sensing where this was going. 

Gary chuckled. 
“Why not? I just said she’s nice.” 

Flame rolled his eyes. 
“Right.” 

As they approached the front door, without warning, Gio raised a hand to stop him. His expression darkened. 
“Where are my parents?” 

And then – everything went black. 

 

Blue finally stopped running. 

She bent down, clutched her knees and gasped for air. It wasn’t long until she realised every breath that escaped her lips came out in white clouds before fading into the mist. 

She slowly straightened herself and looked around. 
She had no idea where she was. 

The streets were dark, unfamiliar – quiet. She knitted her brows. A little too quiet. 

Fog clung to the ground, swirling at her feet and hiding every secret held in the shadows of deserted stores. 

She took a cautious step forward, before glancing around again. 

Something was wrong. 

Very wrong. 

She turned around. 

She had to get back home and tell the others.