How to Live and Die in Crescent Rock (Crescent Rock Series)

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How to Live and Die in Crescent Rock (Crescent Rock Series) Page 12

by Bree Wolf


  To her right, only a few yards away from her, she saw Julia cowering in the grass, her hands tied. Standing right beside her, a knife in his hand was Mr. Sanders, her geography teacher.

  Only he didn’t look like the good-natured educator they had known for the past two years. His face was distorted by a lopsided sneer, his narrowed eyes staring at her with such malice that Quinn took an involuntary step backward.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered, her eyes shifting to her friend.

  Julia was crying, tears running down her face. “I’m so sorry, Quinn.”

  “Shut up!” Mr. Sanders snapped at her, his stare never wavering from Quinn’s face. “Come over here,” he said and when Quinn hesitated, added, “Or your friend dies.”

  And as though she had been blind before, Quinn suddenly realized that, whatever the reason, Mr. Sanders was after her. Julia was just bait.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked, taking a step towards them. Her mind was reeling but it offered her no way out, no suggestion of how to deal with this.

  “That’s the beauty of it,” he said, sneering at her. “You really have no idea.”

  Laughing loudly, he suddenly came towards her, his long strides bringing him to her in a matter of seconds. Quinn stared at him, at the gleaming knife in his hand, and barely managed to fight the urge to turn and run. Over his shoulder, she looked at Julia, and knew she couldn’t leave her.

  Swallowing her fear, Quinn stood up straight. “What the hell are you doing?” she hissed.

  Mr. Sanders blinked at her, surprised. “That is not for you to know,” he said, shrugging. “But if it helps, it’s nothing personal.” Without hesitation, he lunged at her.

  Seeing his knife come towards her, Quinn ducked, dropping to the ground, and rolling over was back up on her feet in seconds. It was a well-known and frequently used move from their cheerleading routine, but never before had it been used to evade a knife-wielding attacker.

  Not expecting resistance, Mr. Sanders tripped and, dropping the knife, landed on his face in the grass. Quinn saw the knife lying there, almost hidden by the high grass and went for it. Mr. Sanders recovered quickly though and before she could reach it, a boot kicked her in the side, sending her sprawling to the ground. A sharp pain echoed through her body, kicking the air from her lungs.

  “Do you really think you can stop me?” he snarled, the knife back in his hand.

  Fighting down the pain in her left side, Quinn tried to get up but he was beside her before she could even fully sit up. With a triumphant grin on his face, Mr. Sanders’ raised his knife, ready to bring it down on her any second.

  Dumb-founded, Quinn just stared at him, unable to believe that one of her favorite teachers was about to kill her, and she didn’t even know why.

  Then the knife shot towards her and she closed her eyes reflexively. But instead of feeling the sharp blade cut into her body, Quinn felt a sudden draft in the air, brushing over her face and whipping her hair about.

  When she dared open her eyes, they widened at the sight of Arnaud standing maybe two feet from her with his right hand tightly wrapped around Mr. Sanders’ neck, whose feet dangled a few inches above the ground. With his hands, Mr. Sanders tried to free himself from Arnaud’s iron grip but failed, his face already looking pale.

  Holding her teacher by an outstretched arm, Arnaud snarled at him, “Why did you attack her?”

  There were only gurgling noises coming from Mr. Sanders and Arnaud loosened his grip a little. Again there was a red tinge to his eyes, making him look like a predator.

  “I was hired,” Mr. Sanders’ gasped, staring at Arnaud with open terror in his eyes.

  “By whom?” Arnaud asked, his voice ice-cold.

  Mr. Sanders just stared at him, not volunteering any information.

  “By whom?” Arnaud repeated, his words receiving more emphasis when his canines suddenly shot out and a low growl rose from his throat.

  The effect on Mr. Sanders was as expected. A strangled scream escaped his lips and his eyes became as round as plates as he rushed to answer, almost tripping over his own tongue. “I don’t know,” he stammered. “I never met him. I swear I don’t know.”

  Still sitting in the grass, Quinn was mesmerized by the spectacle before her eyes. Her fear was gone and although Mr. Sanders clearly viewed Arnaud as a threat to his life, Quinn realized that she had never felt safer than she did in that moment. Arnaud looked terrifying, but for some strange reason he seemed to be protecting her. How he had known she was in danger Quinn didn’t know but she knew she was safe now.

  Bringing Mr. Sanders closer to his face, Arnaud hissed, “What do you know?” His upper lip curled back, showing off his fangs.

  Mr. Sanders blinked. “They only told me to kill her.”

  “Kill who?” Arnaud asked to clarify, and Mr. Sanders’ eyes traveled to Quinn before another growl from Arnaud brought his attention back to him.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Mr. Sanders mumbled in-between gasps. “Something about her family. They are a target.”

  “What does that mean?” Arnaud asked, shaking him.

  “I swear I don’t know,” Mr. Sanders said, his lips slowly turning blue. “Please, don’t kill me.”

  Unimpressed, Arnaud tightened his grip. “What else were you told?”

  Struggling for air, he tried to speak but only hissing noises came out. Again Arnaud loosened his grip. “They said …,” Mr. Sanders wheezed. “Not to decapitate her.”

  At that Arnaud tossed him across the small clearing. He crashed into a rotten tree trunk, sending splinters flying. A little dazed, Mr. Sanders tried to get to his feet. But Arnaud was beside him in a flash, his hand once again wrapping itself around his neck, pulling him up.

  Herself scrambling to her feet, Quinn felt a lump in her throat at Mr. Sanders’ words. Someone wanted her dead. Someone had actually hired him to kill her. The thoughts were there but her mind was too overwhelmed to deal with them. So instead she focused on what was before her. Hurrying over to Julia, she struggled to undo her bonds. “Are you alright?” she asked.

  Shaking off the shock, Julia stared at her. “Quinn, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to but—”

  “It’s alright,” Quinn cut in, trying to calm her down. “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright.” Still trying to undo the knot, she glanced over to where Arnaud was still interrogating Mr. Sanders. Unfortunately, they were out of earshot.

  After what seemed like forever, the knot finally came loose and Julia hastily brushed off the rope, rubbing her wrists to get circulation going.

  “Wait here,” Quinn said, heading for Arnaud and Mr. Sanders. She wanted to know what they were saying. After all it concerned her more than anyone.

  As she approached them, Quinn saw Arnaud once again bring Mr. Sanders closer to his face and snarl at him. Her teacher shook with fear. She heard Arnaud say something but his voice was too low to make out the words.

  In the next second, there was a swift, barely detectable motion of Arnaud’s hand. It was followed by a sickening crack, and a moment later Mr. Sanders’ lifeless body dropped to the ground.

  Frozen in her step, Quinn stared at her former geography teacher, his dead eyes staring up at her.

  Behind her, she heard Julia scream in horror.

  After a last disgusted look at the body by his feet, Arnaud turned and walked towards her. “Are you alright?” he asked, for the first time taking notice of her.

  “What did you do?” she asked, still staring at Mr. Sanders. “Is he …?”

  “Yes.” Arnaud nodded. Looking at her, his eyes narrowed. “It bothers you.”

  She looked up at his face. “You can’t just kill him.”

  “Why not?” Arnaud shrugged. “He tried to kill you. I guess that’s what you call karma.” There was a low chuckle in his throat.

  Quinn shook her head in disbelief. “You should have called the police.”

&n
bsp; Arnaud laughed. “Seriously?” He looked at her intently. “Let’s talk about this later. Is your friend alright?” he asked, nodding towards Julia.

  Turning around, Quinn saw her cowering on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

  “Julia,” she called, hastening to her friend’s side. “Everything’s alright. You don’t need to be afraid any more. It’s over. I’ll take you home.”

  But Julia wouldn’t calm down. She was shaking all over, pushing away Quinn’s hands. Tears streamed down her face and she had the look of a cornered animal, desperation widening her eyes.

  “Luke,” she whispered, again and again.

  Quinn didn’t understand. “I’ll take you to him,” she assured her. “You will see him soon.”

  Starting to cry even harder, Julia shook her head. “He took him.”

  Obviously, Arnaud’s mind was able to process her words faster. He kneeled down in front of Julia, taking her face in his hands, making her look at him. “He took your son?” he asked inquisitively, his face holding honest concern. “Mr. Sanders? He has your son?”

  Julia nodded, breaking down completely.

  “Oh my god,” Quinn whispered, the shock sending fresh pain through her body, erasing the sting of her friend’s betrayal.

  “Do you know where he took him?” Arnaud asked with urgency in his voice, shaking Julia. “Where did he bring him?”

  But Julia’s mind had shut down. She collapsed into a whimpering lump, shaking all over.

  Looking at Arnaud, Quinn asked, “What do we do? How will we ever find him now?” Her eyes shifted to Mr. Sanders’ lifeless body.

  Arnaud remained silent for a moment. Then he pulled a cell phone from his jeans pocket and, after punching a few buttons, waited for someone to pick up.

  “Shut up and listen!” Arnaud said into the phone. “Stop whatever you’re doing and come here right now! I’ll text you the address.” He hung up without waiting for an answer. His fingers flew over the keypad before the phone again disappeared in his pocket.

  “Who did you call?” Quinn asked, as he bent down and picked up Julia as though she weighed nothing.

  “Someone who might be able to find him,” he said, heading back down the trail. “Your car parked at the school?”

  “Yes,” Quinn nodded, casting one last glance at Mr. Sanders before they left the clearing behind. “What about him?”

  “He’s dead. His problems are over.”

  After a few minutes they reached her car. Arnaud carefully placed Julia on the backseat and without asking took the key from Quinn’s hand, pushing her toward the passenger side. Usually she would have objected to such a treatment but these were extraordinary circumstances.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, as Arnaud sped out of the school yard, the tires of her jeep screeching in protest.

  “My place.”

  “And then?”

  “And then we’ll wait,” he said, pushing her jeep past its normal limits.

  “We can’t just do nothing,” Quinn protested.

  As he looked at her, one eyebrow rose in question. “And what do you propose we do? Wander around aimlessly? Randomly checking places? The boy could be anywhere. We need to know where to look.”

  Quinn nodded, knowing he was right. “And your friend can help with that?”

  “I hope so,” was all Arnaud said before he brought the car to a sudden stop under the same sycamore trees in his front yard that had sheltered it before.

  Just as carefully as he had put Julia down, Arnaud picked her up and carried her to the chaise in his sitting room. Her eyes were staring into the distance and she was still shaking, mumbling her son’s name.

  “Should we call a doctor?” Quinn asked, feeling helpless.

  Instead of answering, Arnaud sat down beside Julia, once again taking her face into his hands and looked into her eyes. Something in her stare changed and she looked back at him. For a moment they just sat there, motionless. Then her eyes slowly closed, her breathing evened and she was asleep.

  “What did just happen?” Quinn asked, eyes shifting back and forth between her sleeping friend and the man that raised more questions than he answered.

  “I told her to sleep,” Arnaud said, spreading a blanket over Julia.

  Quinn stared at him, and then something clicked. “Like you told me not to say anything?”

  Arnaud looked at her then, and his brows rose in approval. “Nicely deduced.”

  ***

  While they waited, Arnaud had her call her parents and tell them she would spend the night at Julia’s, which was then followed by a call to Julia’s parents informing them of the opposite. Quinn was amazed at how convincing her voice sounded. Neither her mother nor Julia’s was thrilled, considering it was a school night. But with everything that had been going on lately, they understood their daughters’ sudden need for closeness.

  They hadn’t even been waiting a half an hour, when a knock on the front door announced the arrival of the ominous friend.

  In an instant, Arnaud was by the door. It amazed Quinn how quickly he could move.

  Hearing low voices, but unable to understand what they were saying, Quinn rose from the armchair she had occupied for the past twenty minutes. The sudden movement sent a piercing pain through her left side and she drew in her breath. Lifting her shirt a little, she saw a huge bruise form over the lower left side of her rib cage where Mr. Sanders’ kick had landed.

  “Perfect,” Quinn mumbled, dropping her shirt.

  “Let’s go,” Arnaud called from the foyer.

  Slightly cringing at the pain, Quinn hurried over. As she came around the corner, she found Arnaud exchanging a few quick words with a young man about his age. He looked like a shadow though. His ebony skin, coal-black hair and dark eyes melted into one another. Only the white in his eyes distinguished him from a shadow. The set of his jaw seemed tensed, eyes intent on Arnaud, his head nodding along to his words.

  As he saw her, his head turned and he smiled at her. His eyes were warm and friendly and Quinn liked him instantly.

  “There you are,” Arnaud said, following his friend’s gaze. “This is Tate,” he introduced and looking at his friend, “That’s Quinn. Okay, now let’s go. Everything else has to wait till later.” He opened the door and, gesturing to Quinn, said, “Get in the car.”

  Hurrying to the door, Quinn asked, “But how are we going to find Luke?”

  “That’ll be my job,” Tate said, his voice had a warm, throaty hum to it. “She in there?” he asked, pointing down the hall.

  Arnaud nodded.

  “What’s going on?” Quinn asked, frowning.

  “Would you get in the car?” Arnaud said, pushing her out the door. “C’mon, get going. You could use a head-start. You’re much slower than me.”

  “Fine,” Quinn mumbled, rushing down the front steps as fast as she could, heading for her jeep.

  “No, my car,” Arnaud called over, pointing to the side of the house where the huge SUV was parked.

  Climbing onto the passenger seat, Quinn closed the door and putting on her seat belt looked back to the front door where Arnaud still stood waiting.

  Only a second later her eyes opened wide as she saw a huge, black wolf burst out of the house. It came to a stop in the front yard. Its muzzle held high, it started sniffing the air.

  In a flash, the driver’s door opened and Arnaud slit onto the seat, starting the engine.

  Quinn was still staring, pointing her finger out the windshield at the huge beast trotting up and down the yard. “Is that…?”

  “Yep,” Arnaud confirmed.

  “And he’s a …?”

  “Yep.”

  Chapter 18 – By the Light of the Moon

  Tate was pacing up and down the yard, occasionally raising his muzzle into the night air, seemingly concentrating.

  “What is he doing?” Quinn asked, eyes not wavering from the huge black wolf. He would have been completely swallowed up by the dark of nig
ht if it hadn’t been for the waning moon shining overhead.

  “He is trying to catch the boy’s scent,” Arnaud explained, his own eyes focused on him as well.

  Quinn frowned. “But how does he know Luke’s scent?”

  “From Julia,” Arnaud said, suddenly leaning forward. “He’s got it!”

  The wolf had stopped in his tracks, staring into the black forest behind the house. His ears facing into the same direction, he suddenly leaped forward.

  Only a split second later Arnaud stepped on the accelerator and they flew off into the night.

  The drive through the forest was bumpy, sometimes threatening to throw Quinn off the seat if it hadn’t been for the seatbelt keeping her in place. But it wasn’t only the uneven terrain that posed a danger, but also the speed with which Arnaud maneuvered the SUV through the thickness of the forest. Sometimes the trail was wide enough, easily allowing them passage, when at times they were barely able to squeeze by trees growing closely grouped together. Arnaud however didn’t seem to notice. He sat leisurely in his seat, eyes focused on the wolf leading the way.

  Quinn rarely caught a glimpse of Tate in the headlights of the car. He was too fast and the SUV had trouble keeping up, especially on such rough ground. Quinn assumed that Arnaud’s eyes were better than hers by far, because he didn’t seem worried to lose sight of their guide or indecisive in maneuvering the vehicle.

  “You can see him, can’t you?” Quinn asked, holding tightly to the armrest.

  “Yes,” was all he said.

  Tate took them deep into the forest, keeping to wide enough trails where possible. This area was a popular camping and hiking spot with different-sized trails leading off to various sites. Heading north, Quinn saw the outline of the crescent rock in the distance, giving their town its name. It wasn’t high but amateur climbers still enjoyed tackling the small terraces connected by steeper parts, leading all the way up to the almost even plateau at the top overlooking the valley. Here and there small cabins had been built into the wall for outdoor friends to take cover from the elements on their way to the crest.

  The more time passed, chasing like maniacs through the darkness, the more Quinn worried that they wouldn’t be able to find Luke in time. Wherever he was, it was far enough away from town that he had to have been alone for several hours by now. A nine-month-old baby. Quinn shivered at the thought. What would she tell Julia if they didn’t find him? And what if they did but …? She couldn’t even finish the thought. It physically hurt her.

 

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