Chương 110: Sorry not Sorry

Narrator’s P.O.V.-

Under the dark sky and gentle moon, Lyra runs frantically through the woods. Paranoia runs through her brain, are they coming after her? Is Quinneth dead, or did she make it out? A part of her wants to stop and go back, but another part of her wants to get away as quickly as she can.

Lyra may be the outgoing, confident friend but Quinneth has always been the tough one.

She’s never run this fast before, well except the time Clariza’s was having 50 percent off dresses. Behind her leaves crunch against the ground, she can hear voices yelling at her. They found her, now they were going to skin her alive and hang her up for the whole world to see. Her parent’s will never know what happened to their sweet Lyraina.

To her left she sees a man running through the oak's trees. His eyes don’t even look forward they look directly at her. To the right it’s not a man running but a woman. Her light brown hair flows through the St. Helena winds, Lyra can distantly see the black tinge color in her hair.

In the distance she can see Quinn’s yellow Volkswagen car. The engine is still running, thank god, she thinks. Arriving to the car, she struggles to open up the door. Damn nails, she thought. With struggling for a few minutes, she finally gets the door open. The first thing she struggled with was the door, now she must fight against one of the guardians.

The man, whom was running after her in the woods, closed the door on her hand. She belched out a scream, her pearly white teeth biting aggressively on her tongue. She could feel her finger muscles crippling against the rustic car door. She bite her tongue so hard the taste of metallic blood mixes in with her saliva.

She uses every muscle in her body to yank her, now deformed, hand out of the doorway. Once she gets it free, she turns around and pushes the man’s chest. He didn’t even stumble back, this is going to be a lot harder than I thought, she thinks. It's like he's made of titanium or something.

They start to have a tug of war fight with the door, she tries not to distract herself from the seething pain she feels in her hand. She remembers that she’s wearing a tall-wedged heel. While holding him back, she takes off her shoe and stabs it in the man’s eye. She can feel the shoe go deep into it, yanking it out will be quite tough.

Blood squirts out from his eye as his hand clasps on it. Screams burst through from his mouth; his scream aligns with the blowing trees. From around the corner comes the blonde hair girl with tinges of black in her hair. In her hand holds a long stick, from the looks of it it must be painful. She tries to wack Lyra with it, but dodges it just in time. Grabbing her other wedged heel, she hits the girl countless times in the head. After a few knocks to the skull, she passes out.

Lyra leans against the car, catching her breath and analyzing her finger. Her fingers numb in pain as she notices it turning a purple-black color. She knows in that moment that their broken, so much for wanting to be a hand model.

Reality comes back to her; she needs to follow Quinneth’s directions. Go to her house and grab her grandpa, and tell him everything. She clings her hand to her breast, as the other one drives down the empty, dark road.

“God this is hard.” She says out loud.

Speeding down the road, she turns a sharp corner. It’s a good thing the cops aren’t out tonight because she would have been pulled over instantly. Before her eyes, stands a man in the middle of the road. She remembered it looked like when Will was standing a few hours ago. From his stance and build, she could tell he was a part of Sasha’s clans.

Her bare feet press hard on the brakes, the car comes to a screeching halt. Her head jerks back onto the seat. The guys start to walk towards the car, a knife rests comfortable between his thick fingers. He’s going to kill me; she thinks to herself.

What she does next will come to haunt her in her dreams. She'll have to go to many church services so god can forgive her. Putting the car in reverse, she steps on the brake and runs the guy over full force. She could hear the cracks of bones, and blood splatter on Quinneth’s wind shield. The blood is a dark crimson color, it slides down smoothly.

Her heart beats against her chest violently, the blood rushes through her body. Lyra thinks to herself that she can’t stop now, she must deliver the message. She drives around the body and heads in the direction to Quinn's house.

"Sorry not sorry." She whispers under her breath.

Lyra doesn’t bother to close the car door; she’ll be heading out as quick as she came in.

Hobbling over to the door she knocks erratically. Her foot taps impatiently on the cobble stone walkway.

The door is opened up by a tired looking Milo. He was just about to go to bed; the day had been long. He went to San Francisco with Irene today, they spend most of their time at the Golden Gate Bridge.

He takes notice of Lyra; her appearance was haggard and her hand was now a dark purple-blue color.

“Lyra- what happened? Get in here.” He says eagerly ushering her in. Once the shuts the door, he starts to analyze her hand. Him being a doctor, he knew from the way the bones sat and the colors change the hand was indeed broken.

Lyra moves her hand away from him, she didn’t want anyone to touch it. “Lyra, you got to let me see it. I’ve got to fix it.” Her head shakes frantically.

“No. . . I'm not important now. We- we need to help Quinneth.” Fear set’s dead in his eyes when he hears Quinneth needs help.

“How- what happened to her? Is she dead? Alive?” She shakes her head at him, shrugging off his many absurd questions.

“She isn’t dead. Well. . .I don’t know but I’m sure she’s not. She was taken away by a girl named Sasha. Big hair, a smile that could take out a village.

“Sasha.” Grandpa whispers to himself. He remembers that name from hearing it around the pack house. That name put the fear in people, made them keep their kids trapped in their rooms. She may be young and small in size, but the powers she has grown exponentially. She can do things no other wolf can do.

“Yes- and another girl named Katina or Katana something like that. She was taken alongside Quinn, she shifted from a wolf into a person which is really weird.” Lyra finishes up. She cuts herself off from rambling.

“Katana, her names Katana.” Milo says. “She’ll be fine with Katana, but why weren’t you taken.”

“Quinn told me to run and get you.”

“WHAT! You left her out th-”

Lyra holds up her hand, indicating for him to stop talking. “I didn’t want to leave her, but she pushed me to go. We have to help her Milo.”

“We have to go to the pack house; Alexander and his father will know what to do.”

“Packhouse?”

He turns around to Lyra, he remembers that she knows nothing of this world. “This is a whole new world Lyraina. These people are nothing like you and me. If you want to stay here, I understand.”

“No, I’m going with you. She basically sacrificed her life for mines, I’ll do everything I can to get here back. Try to help as best as I can.”

As Milo grabs his jacket off the hook, he notices his hand is shaking. Lyra takes notice of this and puts her hand on his. For the years that she has known him she never seen him so nervous like. His skin turns pale white, almost like a ghost.

“We’ll get her back, she’s strong.” Lyra reassures him.

Milo drives erratically down the road, disobeying the speeding signs. Lyra holds onto the door handle, scared of him crashing.

They’re currently in Quinns car, since it was already started up. Lyra sees that his hands are clutching the steering wheel rather tightly, his hands turn a pale white. Both of them are nervous and on edge. Now that Lyra thinks of it, she’s never been more afraid than she is now in her life.

Milo turns down a road on an unknown street. Lyra has never been down here before; she knows this because she’s been all over St. Helena. The car bumps beneath them, her head hits the top of the car. It sucks being a tall girl in a small clown car.

In front of her lays a three-story house made of brick. The windows are big and clear, so clear she can see people sitting on the couch. It looks like their watching a football game. Around the border stands many woman and men, they look like security.

“What is this place.” Her eyes roam all over the building.

“Welcome to the golden summit pack. Stick by me and you’ll be fine.”

Heading into the godly building, many people in the house greet Milo. Lyra looks at them curiously as they do, she takes notice of the people. They don’t look. . .like her. Their hair is darker, skin is more vibrant and the way they walk it’s as if their walking on air.

Going down various halls they come to a room with tall Oak doors. On it says the name, “Meeting room”. Who’s in here? She thinks.

Milo knocks on the door with impatience. Walking in Lyra sees a bunch of people sitting in chairs talking to each other. To the left she sees Alexander, his eyes stare emptily at the oak table, lots of oak objects in this place.

Looking at him, she could tell he broke out of some sort of trance. His chair pushes from under him, everyone in the room stares at him curiously.

“Quinneth, she’s in trouble.” Is all he says before heading out the door.

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