ANCHOR
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"OKAY, I'LL ASK. Who's Kate Argent?" Malia asks as she leans forward in her seat, the jeep bouncing as she moves. She turns her head to Scott, who seems to be zoning out.
"Well, we were at her funeral. So, I'd like to know how she got out of a casket that was buried six feet underground." Stiles says, glancing at the werecoyote. Malia's gaze flickers between the two boys, waiting for one of them to continue.
"She was never in it," the Alpha replies. Malia looks to Isaac, who's sat on the right side of her, and she raises an eyebrow as if to ask if he has any answers. He only shrugs.
"She was Allison's aunt— and a total sociopath." Lydia chimes in, watching the werewolf and kitsune in the car beside them.
"All right. Kate was the one who set the fire that killed most of Derek's family." The human began to explain, keeping his eyes on the sandy road, following Braeden on her motorcycle.
"Some of them survived— like Cora, and Peter." Scott tells them. Although it may seem like his mind is blank, a million thoughts and questions are running through it.
"A very angry Peter," Lydia adds.
"Yeah, he's the one who bit and turned me." Scott huffs, his stare still locked on to the dashboard.
The strawberry blonde sighs. "And the one who finally caught up to Kate and killed her."
"Yeah, but we saw her buried—" Stiles tries reminding them, but Scott interrupts him.
"No. We saw a casket, remember? She wasn't in it. The Calaveras heard that Kate had been killed by an Alpha's claws. They wanted to make sure that she was really dead." He pauses before continuing.
"Her body was healing. More and more, as she got closer to the full moon; she was coming back. So, they switched out the bodies. They took her. If a hunter is bit, they have to take their own life before they change. The Calaveras, they treat the code like law. They make it their responsibility to enforce it."
"Then why didn't they take Allison?" Scott shrugs, unsure of the reasoning behind why Allison is still alive when the Calaveras could've easily found her. Then Malia breathes out, redirecting the conversation to Kate. "Good for her. I wouldn't do it either."
"Would you kill half a dozen people to get out? Because that's what she did."
Malia shrugs her shoulders casually, "Maybe."
Lydia takes her eyes off Allison's car to glare at her, though the werecoyote is watching the road. Isaac takes notice of the change in the atmosphere; he taps Malia's thigh to subtly get her attention. She spins around to look at him, and he shakes his head, indicating for her to be silent. Malia reluctantly obeys, deflating in her seat.
Isaac thinks of another question to keep them from going into an uncomfortable silence. "So, is Kate a werewolf now?"
Scott thinks for a moment before replying to the beta's question. "I don't know. You know, there's a saying; sometimes the shape you take reflects the person you are."
"What kind of shape is sociopathic bitch?" the banshee asks in a sarcastic tone.
However, as soon as Lydia concludes her question, a huge thump slams against the side of the jeep, causing Stiles to lose control of the wheel. A loud POP! is heard from outside the car. Lydia frantically checks the window, concerned for the other two girls.
After a moment, the jeep stops shifting, and Stiles hits the breaks. Isaac, who is not wearing his seatbelt, involuntarily launches forward and into the back of the passenger's seat. He groans as the vehicle bounces back into place and the tires screech softly.
"And that is why we do safety first." Lydia remarks, giving him an insincere smile afterwards. She unbuckles her own seatbelt and climbs over Malia, hopping out of the car to follow Scott and Stiles, who have already gotten out.
Malia watches Isaac massage his forehead for a moment before copying Lydia's actions and exiting the jeep. When she steps foot on to the sand-covered ground, she squints her eyes and looks to the left to see Allison and Kira getting out of their car as well. They march over to the rest of their friends and stand beside the blue vehicle, bewildered expressions on their faces.
Braeden whirls around on her motorcycle and circles back to the teenagers, coming to a stop about ten feet away from them. She takes off her helmet and places it on the handlebars, stalking over to the group. "What happened?"
"I don't know, it felt like we hit something." Stiles tells her.
Allison nods, "Same here."
"Scott, we need to get there by night. It's too dangerous otherwise." The mercenary says, slightly shaking her head.
Scott pauses and inhales, unsure of what step to take next. Stiles glances between him and Braeden before waving his hand, signaling for them to go. Braeden doesn't hesitate to walk back to her motorcycle, preparing the engine.
But Scott disagrees. "Not without you."
"Dude, someone needs to find Derek. We'll figure something out. We always do. Just go."
The dark-haired boy replies, stepping forward for extra reassurance.
The Alpha hesitates before exhaling and making his way to Braeden, but Kira calls out to him, and he stops in his tracks. Malia hears her ramble about him being careful, and how she's going to think of something better to say once he's gone.
Malia glances to the side, and a certain werewolf watches them from her car, looking disappointed, even almost jealous. The werecoyote forms her lips into a line before turning her attention back to the jeep.
Isaac reluctantly approaches the brunette, seemingly asking her a question. She nods in response. They go to the trunk of her car and bring out a toolbox. Allison passes a screwdriver and an impact wrench to Stiles. He takes it and pops the hood.
Malia circles around the jeep, looking for any dents or marks, only to find nothing. When she reaches the front again, Malia crouches down next to the right side and searches. Seconds later, she spots something — it appears to be a large claw, about five to seven inches — lodged in the machinery. She extends her arm and tries to pry it out.
"Stiles," Malia grunts as the claw comes free and plops into her hand. "I don't think we hit something," she straightens herself and holds it out for him to see, "I think something hit us."
Stiles takes it from her and stares at it, an unreadable look filling his eyes. Malia averts her gaze to the other two werewolves, who are still examining the engine. Malia uncrosses her arms and makes her way over to the car.
"Malia? What is it?" Isaac pauses, placing the wrench on the toolbox as he and Allison watch her. Malia shows her index finger, telling him to give her a minute. She inspects the tires, spotting two sharp objects protruding from one of the back tires. Malia rips them out with ease. Then, she raises the claws for them to see.
Isaac's eyes widen, while Allison's contort into confusion. "Are those claws?"
"I think so. But these were in your tires, so it isn't the engine that made your car break down." Malia says, allowing the brunette to finish her sentence.
"It was the flat tire." Allison presses her lips together and chuckles lightly, cracking a smile at her friend. Malia gives a nod and hands the claws over to Allison before walking beside Kira, who's still staring out into the distance.
"Hey, he'll be fine." Malia begins, catching Kira's gaze for a brief moment. "He has Braeden with him, and she seems like she can take care of herself. Don't worry about it."
Although her words of assurance are appreciated, Kira doesn't feel better. The worry in her stomach twists even farther, making her feel worse by each moment that passes. But Kira puts on a front instead of making Malia comfort her more; comfort isn't her strong suit anyway.
Malia shifts her eyes to the mountains, scanning them. She hears Lydia suggest to Stiles that they walk instead, but he responds with something along the lines of, "I will never abandon this jeep."
Malia takes a few steps to the side, watching the wind blow the sand through the air. The breeze brushes her exposed forearms, the dust partially sticking to her skin, causing a gross feeling to cross her body. A moment passes, and another feeling washes over her. Malia's gut twists, and her instincts urge her to say something.
"Guys," she calls out, holding an unsteady hand out, "Work faster."
They each stop working and look at her with puzzled expressions. Malia's voice then turns serious as she watches the large landscape. "There is something out here with us."
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Daylight has slipped away and into the shadows, leaving the only light being from their flashlights and cars. Isaac finished changing Allison's tire, deciding to try and help Stiles fix the jeep's engine, but Stiles continues to be stubborn.
"No, no, no. Do not— Isaac, do not touch that!"
Lydia rolls her eyes at Stiles' defensiveness toward the vehicle, leaning against the side of the hood while she holds the flashlight above him. Kira had gotten her katana out from Allison's car a few minutes ago, joining Malia's side along with Allison.
"Anything?" Kira asks, just as she did barely five minutes ago.
Malia shrugs her shoulders and Allison shakes her head. "It's too hard to see. We should've brought more flashlights."
Kira then thinks for a moment, glancing at the headlights of Stiles' jeep. She stalks toward them, stopping next to Lydia and holds her sword out in front of the beams, using the reflection to cast out light for the two. Allison and Malia look at the mountains again, and the brunette's breath hitches in her throat.
"Did you see that?" Kira questions, a gasp desperately wanting to come out.
Allison nods, glancing over her shoulder at the kitsune.
Malia peers around again. This time, seeing a figure moving behind one of the larger rocks in the distance. Naturally, her arms unfold, lips parting as a threatening roar rolls off her tongue. Malia's eyes flash a vibrant blue as she sprints after it. The others are all calling her name, shouting for her to come back, but she ignores them and continues the chase.
It goes down one of the small paths around the mountain. Malia takes the sharp turn, the heels of her boots sliding against the ground beneath her. She catches herself using her palm and balances her weight, following the creature.
Malia catches a glimpse, but only of the head; it's bare, dirt smudged along the white structure, the eye sockets are empty— it's an animal skull.
Malia stops to take in a deep breath, but when she raises her head, it's nowhere in sight. Malia turns in a circle, the sand scratching underneath her feet as she does so. She searches for any sign of the creature but finds nothing— absolutely nothing.
Suddenly, Malia feels an acute pain on the side of her waist. She grunts and whirls in all directions, seeing nothing but darkness. Adrenaline runs through her, as well as fear. Malia looks down at her stomach to find a deep cut, blood staining her palm. She breathes in, clutching the spot with her fingers.
"Malia? Malia, where are you?" It's Kira and Allison. They followed her.
Running from her previous position, Malia rushes to the sounds of their voices. She turns the corner; her friend has her weapon wielded, the other having her claws ready. The werecoyote hurriedly approaches them from behind— bad idea. Kira slices her katana through the air, and Malia barely blocks it with her free hand. Allison spins to face her, growling viciously.
"Whoa, whoa. It's me! Agh, it's me, it's me." Malia repeats until they both stand-down.
"What happened? What's out there?" Kira whispers, her chest heaving.
Malia's panting, too, trying to catch her breath. She briefly whips her head around to check if the creature has found them. When she doesn't see anything, she turns back to her friends. "I don't know, but it is big and fast. And it cuts deep."
Malia motions for them to look at her waist. Allison and Kira avert their eyes and stare at it for a second, until they hear two engines hum in the distance. Kira gasps, startled by the noise. Malia pushes her the other way, urging Kira to hurry. Allison pulls one of Malia's arms over her shoulder, hooking an arm around her waist as well. She assists Malia as they rush back to their friends.
When they reach them, Lydia is in the back of the jeep, moving to the left to make room for Isaac. Kira hops into Allison's car and Stiles ushers Malia to his. Allison helps him get her in the passenger's seat before leaving her side and closing the door. Malia throws her head back, letting out a sigh of both relief and exhaustion. Stiles slams his foot down on the gas pedal. Allison has gotten to her car, following closely behind with Kira.
"You— You please don't do that ever again!" Stiles shouts, waving his index finger through the air.
Malia glares at him in annoyance. "Do what?"
"We thought you just took off. We thought you were running." Isaac says from the backseat, leaning forward.
"I was running?"
"No, I mean, like, we thought you were leaving." He elaborates.
Malia's mouth slightly gapes. "Oh. I was chasing after whatever was watching us— it just ran around the side of the mountain."
"You still shouldn't do that; you could've been hurt—"
Lydia cuts him off. "And she was. It doesn't look so good," she tilts her head to get a better look at it. Isaac shifts into the middle and moves Malia's arm out of the way.
"I'm okay. I can feel it healing." She tells him, briefly taking a hold of his wrist. There's a pause, but he reluctantly nods and pulls away, sitting back.
Lydia quirks a brow. "You didn't see anything?"
"Barely." Malia responds, "it had a strong scent, though."
"Like what?" Stiles inquires.
Isaac and Lydia watch Malia as they wait for an answer. She frowns at the thought of the smell, a disgusted expression making its way on to her face. "Like death."
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The group reaches La Iglesia within a few minutes. Stiles and Allison slow down once they see Scott and Braeden dragging out a boy, one of his arms draped over each of their shoulders. Stiles parks the jeep and jumps out, Kira and Allison doing the same. Malia unbuckles and grabs her jacket with her, slipping her arms though the sleeves while she walks. Isaac helps Lydia step out carefully, and then they meet the others' side.
Stiles and Isaac stare at Derek; Isaac's eyes are wide with bewilderment, pursing his lips as they try to form words. Stiles, on the other hand, seems more intrigued.
"Is that him? Is that Derek?" Malia probes, her gaze flickering between him and the boy.
"Uh. Sort of."