Hunted (Dark Secrets Book 1)

by Mousseau, Allie Juliette

  I heard fire brigade boats blow past us with their sirens screaming.

  Soon, I was lifted again. This time Theron carried me and put me in the passenger side of the borrowed car. Me and my borrowed life! I was consumed with pain and self-loathing.

  Theron flew down the road like a bat out of hell, while I held my arms around my chest and rocked back and forth, slamming my back against the seat.

  Theron kept looking over at me.

  "Stop looking at me!" I snapped. I heard the automatic door locks engage.

  "I'm just trying to figure out why they want you so badly."

  "Yeah," I said sarcastically. "I've been trying to figure it out for years!"

  Something or someone slammed onto the roof of the car.

  "Get Down!" Theron pushed my head down, forcing me down across the seats and partway onto the floor.

  A man's boot burst through the driver's side window. Glass shattered, spraying all around us, and two gray paratrooper boots vaulted through the broken window. Theron moved just in time to miss the blow to his head. In what seemed like one smooth motion, Theron grabbed hold of the man's ankle with his right hand and opened his door with his left, propelling the Taker back out the window. I jumped back up into my seat and turned to see him rolling violently behind us down the street.

  "He has no cord!" I shouted to Theron.

  Just then a white Sedan smashed into the back of our car, threatening to throw it into a spin.

  "Hang on!" Theron instructed as his foot laid heavily onto the accelerator, pumping gas into the engine.

  The car sped powerfully down the two lane road. Theron pulled ahead of our pursuers, weaving between the double yellow lines. Shots were fired into the rear window, dispersing shards of glass all over the back seat. I screamed and covered my head with my arms.

  As Theron zigzagged again, I stole a peek out of the front window. Early morning drivers plowed their vehicles into the side ditches. Others weren't so lucky and rammed into each other.

  The sedan came up onto Theron's side of the car and slammed into us. Theron drove back into them harder.

  "We can't do this in the city! More innocent people could die!" I shouted. "Just give me to them and it will all stop!"

  "Stop it! If they only wanted you they wouldn't be taking the other people at all! They'd hunt you exclusively. None of this is your fault!" Theron shouted at me. "Get your seat belt on!"

  I swished around in my seat and hurriedly pulled the belt around me. As I clicked it I looked up ahead and realized we were approaching a set of tracks. The train was barreling toward us on my right. The crossing caution lights were flashing and the white and black striped barriers were closing less than two hundred feet ahead of us. I turned my head to warn Theron. That's when I saw the pistol pointing in through the broken driver's side window. Two Takers in suits were looking into our car with smug expressions as if they enjoyed the deadly game they waged.

  Theron's face was stone as he sped toward the oncoming train. Suddenly, he lifted the emergency brake. My hair blew up around my head and face from the rush of wind that poured in through the car's broken windows. Our BMW fishtailed as Theron spun it into a half circle, bringing it to an abrupt stop facing opposite the train and then gunning it forward again. I twisted in my seat to look behind me and watched as the white sedan with the two Takers inside of it sailed through the air at full speed and dove into the side of the cargo train, right through the middle of the word "Pacific."

  A violent explosion erupted, engulfing a huge section of the train in flames.

  Theron moved quickly. "We have to ditch this car." He peeled down a side street. We were on the outskirts of the city. "Take out your bow and load it."

  I didn't question him. He pulled the car into the back of a used car lot.

  "Get out my way," he said, gripping my arm and pulling me out the driver's side door. "Stay down," he instructed.

  We dodged our way through the parked cars, ducking between them, Theron's hand tightly holding mine as he led me, my bow ready in my other hand. The business wasn't opened yet because it was still so early. No one was around. The streets in this part of town seemed eerily silent.

  "Get behind the tire and keep guard," Theron said as he knelt beside the driver's side door of a beige vehicle and picked the lock with a thin metal object.

  I kept a diligent watch around me hoping no random innocent person walked up. I heard the door unlatch. Theron opened it and leaned up into the seat. The engine roared as Theron pulled at me to get in. I crawled in from underneath him and made my way to the passenger's side. Theron got in, closed the door and drove over the curb and down the street, abiding the speed limit carefully. He melded into the inner city's early morning traffic.

  "Are you alright?" he asked.

  "Don't start all that again," I said as I pulled my knees up to my chest. It was all too much. Scarlett was dead or Taken and I couldn't decide which might be worse. Blake was definitely dead and what about Holly and the baby? All the adrenaline that had been fueling me dissipated and I felt myself crash. Something tingled through my flesh like pins and needles.

  Soon Theron pulled the car to a stop. I opened my eyes to a hazy fog. We were at the port. Massive ships were moored in the water.

  "I'll come around for you," Theron said as he got out of the car.

  My brain wouldn't work. What was I doing here? It had something to do with Scarlett and my mom—but they were dead! The thick fog seemed to settle all around me. It cut off my air supply. I gasped. I couldn't breathe.

  "Freya, what's wrong?" Theron had opened the passenger door.

  I leaped up onto my feet, struggling for air. I blacked out.

  Chapter 17 - Voyage

  Everything that happened from then on was like a dream. I wasn't even sure if it was real or not. I was no longer a participant. I cracked my eyes and could see I was in a tight, neatly situated room. A chair sat in the corner and I seemed to be on a bed.

  "It's all going to be all right," I heard a male voice say. Theron maybe?

  From a small, lit room off to the left, I could hear the sound of water being sprayed into a tub. I noticed my legs were hanging off the side of the bed. Actually, I was sitting. My bare feet touched the carpeted floor. I couldn't manage to lift my head. Theron appeared in my peripheral vision and opened a small window. Immediately a breeze hit me. It smelled of salt and old smoke. My jeans were soiled, smeared with a blackened substance. What was that from?

  Theron stood in front of me. He stripped off my T-shirt and pulled down my jeans, slipping them over my feet.

  What is he doing? I grappled vaguely. I wondered if I was sick somehow. He left my bra and underwear in place and lifted me into his arms. Wearily, I rested my head against his bare chest. Tears trickled down my face, but I didn't know why. They dripped onto his stomach and the tiled bathroom floor.

  Theron said a bunch of words that didn't make any sense. Only one stood out from the jumbled mess of others—"shock." Whatever that meant.

  ~

  Warm shower water streamed through my hair and down my back. I felt myself breathe for the first time in hours. I brought my hands up to my face to clear the water from my eyes. Theron was standing in the shower with me, still wearing his blackened denim jeans. He smiled softly at the motion of my hands and probably the change in my eyes. He poured shampoo into his hands and massaged it into my saturated hair. He was so tender as he worked his fingers through each strand. His movement wakened my senses.

  He worked the lather onto my arms and reached around me to scrub my back. More tears spilled down my cheeks. He was taking care of me—he didn't look at me like the filthy creature I was—guilty of the blood of innocent people. There was no judgment in his eyes, just concern.

  I watched as the black from his jeans faded some as the water beat through them—Soot. The black is soot from the fire.

  "They're gone or dead and it's because of me." My voice was barely audible.
>
  "No, Freya. I meant it when I said none of this is your fault. You are not to blame. Whoever the Takers are they have their own evil agenda apart from just you." He washed my legs and then soaped and rinsed my feet. He stood back up and clasped my face in his hands. "Freya, you are the best person I have ever met."

  I cried again but it was more cleansing this time. Theron wrapped his arms around me and held me as the water rinsed through my pain. When the last tremors subsided and exhaustion was the only thing left, he turned off the water, wrapped a fluffy white towel around me and carried me back to the bed.

  The wallpaper around us had a nautical theme of floating ships, sextons, compasses, gulls and anchors.

  "Where are we?" I asked as he dried me with a second towel.

  "On Maxwell's ship. We're headed to Sweden, like you wanted." Thoughtfully, he caught a stray water droplet with his thumb as it fell over my forehead. "There's a washing machine down the hall. Are you okay for me to leave you alone for a minute to put in our clothes?"

  I nodded. He reached into both of our packs, took out all of our clothes and threw them onto the chair in the corner. Then he stepped into the bathroom and came back out wearing a white robe, his dirty jeans in his hands. He set a second white robe on the bed next to me. "Can you manage?"

  It felt strange being treated like an invalid. "Yes," I said weakly.

  He stepped out of the room with the soiled clothes in his arms and closed the door behind him.

  Without thinking too much, I pulled off my wet underclothes and dropped them to the floor then wrapped myself in the soft robe. I crawled in between the sheet and blanket and closed my eyes.

  ~

  When I opened my eyes, Theron had pulled the chair up close to the bed and was sitting in it, reading a thick book, which he already seemed to be halfway through. There was a table off to the side piled with an array of foods—fruits and berries, yogurts and cheeses, bagels, and hot chocolate. I realized I was famished.

  "Did you eat yet?" I asked him.

  He immediately dropped the book and was by my side in a heartbeat, looking into my irises. This wasn't a romantic morning gaze—this was Dr. Hawk's "Does Freya have a concussion?" gaze or his "Is she in shock?" gaze.

  "Don't get up too fast," he said gently. "Start lifting your head nice and slowly."

  "Why are you so worried?" I asked.

  "You've been out for four days."

  "Oh," I said thoughtfully.

  "Freya, I have excellent news. The day after we boarded the ship, Captain Maxwell came to the cabin and told me Scarlet was alive and safe—No, stay down. I don't need you going out again."

  I obediently stayed down even though it was difficult. "Are you sure?" I asked unbelievingly.

  "Yes," he nodded. "She called and I spoke to her on the phone. I even tried putting the phone to your ear. She, Holly and the baby went down to a storm cellar under the main house—a safe house inside the safe house—when the Takers attacked. Blake had been out back getting water when it happened and fought them. They could hear us yelling for them but couldn't come out because of the fire. The three of them are unharmed. The Guardians moved them to a new safe place. We can call her right now," Theron promised as he picked up the phone at the bedside and typed in a number. "She made me memorize it."

  I laid my head back deeper into the pillow, full of relief.

  "Hi Scarlett." Pause. "Yes, she's awake. Here you go." He handed me the phone.

  "Love?" Scarlett's voice sang from the line.

  "Oh Scarlett, you're alive!"

  "I'm so sorry—you must have been utterly terrified. We are all alright. Holly and Ben and I are safe and sound. Theron said you weren't doing so good?"

  "I'm better now that I know you're alive!" I exalted. "What happened?"

  "We all said goodbye and Blake went out to get some fresh water. All of a sudden a Taker came right up behind me. I knocked him out with my cast-iron skillet, but the bacon grease spilled into the open flame. Blake fired his gun outside and I got Holly and the baby down into the storm shelter and locked the door from the inside so no Taker could get in. Holly would have been way too weak to defend herself and the baby. It was all I could do."

  "I'm sorry about Blake," I said slowly.

  "Me too," Scarlett said. "He was a good man. Holly is torn up, but she has Ben to help her heart and keep her strong. Blake died saving our lives, he's a hero. He also killed the first Taker. The government took the guy and they're running DNA and genetic tests." Scarlett paused for a moment. "Now, I need you to pull yourself back together. You're on a mission to see what you can find out about your mother. So get some food in you, rest and get strong. I love you dearly and will see you again—even if I have to travel to Sweden to do it, okay love?"

  "Okay," I laughed and cried at the same time. "Okay. I love you so much. Give Holly and Ben a hug from me."

  "Of course," Scarlett said.

  We hung up. Theron lay down on the bed next to me, holding me until everything in the world felt right again. A deep relief flooded through me and chased all the images of death away.

  "Ready for a plate?" he asked after a while.

  "Yeah," I spoke brightly.

  He pulled away gently and brought the tray right to the side of the bed. He helped me inch up little by little until I was sitting.

  He spread cream cheese over a split bagel, topped it with fresh cut berries and fruit then set it on a plate on my lap. It tasted so good.

  "Thank you for taking care of me," I said, looking at him from under my lashes.

  "No problem." He leaned down and kissed my forehead.

  I noticed all my clothes were neatly folded on a shelf on the wall. My pretty dress was draped from a hanger in an open closet.

  "Thanks for doing my laundry too." I smiled.

  It gave him another excuse to kiss my head. "Anytime."

  "Join me?"

  "Sure." Theron sat down on the bed to enjoy a picnic with me.

  Then I noticed two boxes of hair dye up next to the clothes—one dark brown and one medium to light brown.

  He caught my eye. "Yeah, I figured with everything we should change it up."

  "Now you're beginning to think like me," I warned.

  He laughed.

  "What time is it anyway?" I asked.

  "Late afternoon."

  When we were finished Theron cleaned up the mess and set it outside the door for the housekeeper.

  "I'd like to take a walk out on deck," I said.

  "If you think you're ready we can give it a go." He helped me to my feet.

  Immediately, a wave of dizziness passed over me. "No, I'd better sit back down." I noticed the TV on the other side of the room. "How about we watch a movie?"

  "Better idea. Don't worry; you'll be up and about causing trouble before you know it."

  He smiled, stooped down to the TV set and turned it on then sat next to me with a case full of DVDs.

  We relaxed through the evening, watching reruns of sitcoms and laughing our heads off. It felt good to laugh at nonsense after so much harsh reality. A few hours later Theron went down to the mess hall and picked us up some fried chicken, baked potatoes, green beans and pumpkin pie. We ate everything. Late into the night we fell asleep, safe and sound in each other's arms.

  ~

  The next day I felt way better. I took a shower on my own and colored my hair dark brown. I dressed in my simple green cargo pants and black tank. Theron took a shower after me and came back out in fresh jeans and a dark blue tee, his hair dyed medium light brown.

  I walked over and ran my fingers through his dampened hair. "You are so handsome."

  He smiled big. "I'm really glad you think so, because then you won't mind so much if I do this." He pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply.

  And he was right. I didn't mind a bit.

  We took a walk. The ship was massive. Crates that would fit onto tractor trailer trucks were stacked one on top of the other li
ke gargantuan colored Lego building blocks—red, yellow, green and blue. The air smelled cleaned and the gray-blue water stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. It was a working vessel. We were constantly moving between huge equipment and machinery—riggings, cranes, fork lifts and other things I didn't know the names of.

  The crew was everywhere, lugging stuff around, fixing things, painting and hauling. They all spoke to one another in Portuguese and to Theron and me in halted English.

  "Let's go introduce you to Captain Maxwell," Theron said.

  "You already met him?" I asked.

  "Well yeah, when we first came on board."

  "Oh." I thought for a minute. "Where was I?"

  "In my arms."

  "Ah."

  I didn't have time to talk about it more because Theron was knocking on a door that was labeled "Captain."

  "Enter," someone answered.

  "Hello Captain Maxwell," Theron called, announcing our entrance.

  The captain was hunched over maps and coordinates, reading them under a bright light. He looked up. "Hey you two!" He came over and gave us firm hand shakes. "It's good to see you up and around." He spoke in an elegant English accent.

  "Thanks, sir," I said, embarrassed.

  "Just call me Max. I trust you spoke to Scarlett?" he asked.

  "Yes, Max. Thank you."

  "She couldn't have given us more of a fright!" Max exclaimed. "How are you finding the ship?"

  "She's beautiful."

  "Aye. I've been navigating her close to forty years now."

  Max had short salt-and-pepper hair, was in his early sixties and was just under six feet tall. He was thickly built—strong like he could take care of himself—and wore a white cable knit sweater, dark pants and tall, black rubber boots.

  "We'll be reaching Sweden in six days. We have a couple ports of call, but with all of the excitement surrounding the circumstances, I would suggest you both stay safely on board."

  I read that message loud and clear.

  "We will be having a formal dinner and dance in the ballroom tomorrow evening and I would be honored if you would both attend."

  "That would be lovely, thank you… but I don't have any formal attire," I stammered.