Ash and Cinder

5| Mountainside

"Hendrix!" A terrified scream shatters the black oblivion of my dreamless sleep.

Elle.

My eyes fly open, and I spring to my feet. Only it doesn't quite work that way because the ground tilts on its side, and instead of jumping up, I'm crashing sideways.

"Hendrix ¡ayúdame!" Elle shrieks again. A fleshy crack echoes through the air. I struggle to my knees, frantically searching for Elle through dizzying triple vision.

"Elle?" I call. Her answer is a muffled scream. The world stops spinning enough for me to just make out two forms on the ridge above me. One is Elle, and the other is a giant man in military dress. He has a clunky black gun pressed to Elle's temple, his other hand clamps around her mouth.

"Don't shoot!" I shout. The man narrows his eyes, his finger tightens around the trigger, turning my blood to ice in my veins. Elle's doe eyes are wide and glassy with tears. A sharp whimper escapes from between the man's fingers. Her skin shifts in a patchwork myriad, the way it always does when she's scared. Some parts of her I can see, while others have vanished, chameleon-like, into the surrounding landscape.

"Elle, ¡tranquila! You're going to be fine." Maverick appears on the scene, as calm and collected as ever. He's facing the man, his hands in his pocket. "He doesn't speak English," he says, more as an idle observation than anything. Without turning away from the man, Maverick addresses me.

"Trick, tell your sister that everything is going to be okay," he instructs. Okay? I see no way in which this situation turns out okay.

"Where's your telepathy?" I whisper. If ever there was a time for him to start digging in his grab bag of mind tricks, it would be now. While Elle is in mortal danger.

"I'm trying." His voice is still calm and even, but I spot his grimace before he covers it. His eyes are swamped under purple blotches. I fill my lungs with frigid air and lie to my sister.

"Estas bien, Elle, está bien. We're going to get you away from him." The words stick to my throat on their way out. Elle's gaze finds mine and holds it. She breathes like a panicked mouse, her chest heaving rapidly. Her fingers spasm at the man's arm, red lines raise on his skin. "It's okay," I say again. Nausea turns my insides to mush.

The man decides that he's had enough of standing around. He takes a step back, and Elle kicks out wildly. His grip on her constricts and he shouts something at us in another language. Russian, I recognize the guttural flow from years of listening to the Whitecoats. He waves the gun around, pausing every now and then to point it at each one of us. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a glimmer of movement. Someone is sneaking up on the man. Suddenly, Maverick's plan becomes clear to me.

"Elle, calm down," I instruct, and she does. Her feet stop kicking and she stares straight at me. The lack of resistance affords the man an easy way to drag her back. "Escucha, I need you to be brave okay. When I say duck, duck."

An ATV idles at the top of the hill. A woman with hair so pale it's almost white sits on the saddle, facing away from the scene below. She leans on the handlebars, fingers hovering over the gas. The man is nearly to her now. I wish Maverick would get on with whatever he has planned because we're running out of time. Elle's toes drag along the stony ground, her too-wide eyes trained on me, waiting for the signal. The man is at the top and Elle is fighting tears. I glance sideways at Maverick. My vision fades in and out of blurriness. He waits, his eyes dart between the man and the other person. Then he tips his chin in affirmation.

"Duck now," I command the moment he nods.

Elle twists in the man's grip and sinks her little white teeth into the flesh of his arm. The man shouts in surprise but doesn't drop her. At the same time, Chastin, who had slowly but surely been sneaking up to an angle where he could get a clear shot, lunges, his hands out, fingers splayed, and launches a volley of glittering white ice daggers at the man.