Marko, Paul and Dwayne's howlers of delight echoed across the shoreline of Santa Carla. Despite the two having left before them, they'd slowed their pace and continued to weave from one side of the beach to the other. Paul's cheeky grin etched across his face as he pulled ahead of Dwayne and disappeared into the tree line. Amara's hair whipped around behind her, tangling itself as Marko followed Dwayne into the tree line ghosting the beach.
A soft, adrenaline-filled smile upturned the corners of Amara's mouth. The moonlight above and the headlights mounted on the front of the bikes-the only sense of guidance as they weaved their way through the trees. Amara's grip on Marko's waist tightened as he swerved to avoid a fallen tree branch, righting himself as smoothly as if he knew it'd been there all along. The air growing colder the deeper they drove into the forest, the smell of salt filling the air and their lungs.
The faintest brush of sea spray across Amara's skin paired with the sound of waves rumbling nearby filled the starless sky; the ash-grey clouds coating the sky in a never-ending blanket of darkness. Dwayne and Paul's lights flickered from sight as they maneuvered their way through the trees with ease; missing rocks, bushes and fallen trees with an air of practised calm. Paul glanced back over his shoulder at Amara before he disappeared over the crest of a small sloping hill, his eyes dancing with delight.
Panic seized Amara's heart as the boy she'd only known for a day vanished. Worry nipping at her gut as the smell of the ocean grew stronger. The crashing of waves louder and thundering as Marko chuckled to himself; the vibrations rippling from his chest and into her own. Amara watched from behind Marko's shoulder as Dwayne disappeared over the crest of the hill, his ebony-brown locks billowing in the wind. Marko sped up with a quick twist of his hand as he cleared the crested hill with a small, easy jump, Paul's amused grin etched into his face as he and Dwayne waited for the pair.
Amara's stomach rolled with unease, the crashing of waves thunderous to her ears as the earth several metres away from Dwayne and Paul disappeared with an abrupt drop. Marko stopped beside them and quickly killed the engine of his bike, his Cheshire-like grin plastered across his face as he watched Amara stare down at the impassable drop. Amara tore her eyes from the edge of the cliff face and frowned as a lone bike sat vacant of its rider. Paul all but pranced to where Amara sat behind Marko, helping her off of the back of Marko's bike and towards a set of old, beaten-down stairs that clung to the cliff face.
Amara clutched onto Paul's hand as he led her down the rickety stairs. The wooden staircase groaned and creaked beneath her feet, the faintest sway to the steps enticing her heart to pound within her chest. Paul's hand squeezed Amara's gently as he glanced down at her with a sense of surety in his eyes. Dwayne and Marko followed behind them, talking amongst themselves in voices too low for Amara to hear over the crashing of the waves.
Anxiety crept into her veins as Paul let go of her hand and disappeared into a gap in the rock face. Amara's senses kicked into overdrive; one half of her mind screaming at her to run while the other urged her to stay. A frown marred Amara's face as she hesitated, eyes narrowed at the gap in the rock face. Dwayne brushed past her shoulder with mirth in his umber-brown eyes, sparing Amara an encouraging look over his shoulder before he disappeared into the entrance of the rock face.
Marko's patchwork jacket brushed past Amara's shoulder as he walked past her and stopped beside the coarse, creamy rock face. He leant against the rocks, a gentle smile across his face as he waited. "You coming?" He asked, gesturing with his head towards the gap within the rocks.
Amara paused, eyeing the gap within the rocks with unease as she contemplated turning around and walking back through the forest to the boardwalk. Marko waited for her answer, patiently leaning against the rock face as though he had all the time in the world. Amara threw a glance back up the wooden stairs behind her, the crashing of the waves against the cliff face filled her ears as she breathed in a deep breath of air and turned back to face Marko.
"Lead the way." She breathed out with as much courage as she could muster.
Marko's eyebrows rose, doubt seeping into his hazel irises. "You sure? Because I can take you back to the boardwalk if you're uncomfortable."
"You'd take me back to the boardwalk? Just like that?" Amara asked, clicking her fingers together as though to emphasise how he'd take her back to the boardwalk.
"You've only got to say the words, Amara. I'll be more than happy to walk you back up those stairs and take you back to the boardwalk."
"Just like that?"
He nodded his head as a soft smile spread across his boyish features. "Just like that." He paused, lifting his fingers to his mouth as his eyes studied Amara intently. "I promise you that we'll never hurt you, not now or even in the future."
Amara's brows furrowed at his choice of words, dismissing it with a swift shake of her head as though it'd rid her of her thoughts. Amara breathed in a deep breath of air to calm the nerves that'd begun to build. She knew, despite having only known Marko for a short amount of time, that he meant what he said, and that soothed the anxiety that had crept in. Foolish or not, Amara followed him into the gap of the rock face when he turned away from her and slipped through the sizeable gap.
Small stones skittered across the dank, dimly lit tunnel of the rock face as Amara's shoes sent them tumbling across the sandy floor. She squinted her eyes as she cautiously inched closer to the faint light emitting from the end of the tunnel. Voices and laughter echoed off the rough walls of the tunnel, her eyes widening in pleasant surprise as the dank tunnel opened up into a large, spaciously lit cave.
As Amara's fawn-brown eyes wandered the room in awe, she soaked in the Victorian styled ruins before her with wonder filled eyes. An askew chandelier hung from the ceiling. Its ornately designed crystals chipped or broken upon the cave floor. The base of which hung dislodged from the roof by a thick power cable. A broken fountain sat within the middle of the room, its once intricately designed tiers crumbled beneath that of a second chandelier that had fallen from the ceiling-pieces of shattered crystals filling the base of the fountain. Barrels filled with fire illuminated the cave, reddish-orange flames licking at the metal as though eager to escape its confines.
A large painting of a man hung up on the rocky wall, varying trinkets scattered around the cave floor and surrounding crevices. Shell wind-chimes hung from the ceiling nearest to three beaten-down couches placed beneath the fraying portrait. Paul and Dwayne lounging comfortably within the worn couches beside that of an old, ancient-looking wheelchair. David sat perched within the uncomfortable-looking chair, sparing Amara a fleeting glance before continuing on with his conversation with Dwayne. Marko sat off to the side further back in the cave, a messily arranged bookshelf and book stacks scattered around him. An old stereo left beside him on a small jutting out ledge, the sheerest of curtains brushing against the boombox as the faintest breeze blew across the cave.
Amara peered over Marko's shoulder to the unused and seemingly forgotten bed, her eyebrows coming together as Amara wondered why the mattress looked so vacant and unused. Amara sat down beside Marko, who held a small white bird within his hands, running his fingers ever so gently across the sleekness of the pigeon's feathers with care. His hazel eyes tracking the movement of his fingers as though memorising every stroke of his hand down the bird's back.
David's voice rang out across the spacious cave, both Amara and Marko's heads raising from the small bird in unison. "This used to be one of the hottest resorts in Santa Carla about eighty-five years ago." David paused as he scrutinised the cave. "Shame they built it on a fault line. Because, when the big one hit San Francisco in nineteen oh six. This place took a header straight into the crack."
Paul, Dwayne and Marko each wore grins of bemusement as though they'd heard the same explanation time and time again. A sense of déjà vu creeping through the group of bikers as Amara looked around the Victorian styled room with interest. Her gaze coming to rest on that same empty room, left forgotten at the back of the cave to collect dust.
"You live here?" Amara asked.
David nodded his head in response, glacier-blue eyes filled with a sense of cool calm. "We do."
"What about your parents? Wouldn't they be worried that you live here?"
The biker's laughter filled the cave as they all shared a knowing look with the other; Dwayne's lips twitching as though he was fighting the urge to smile. Marko peered down at Amara with a soft smile, chuckling lightly to himself as her eyebrows furrowed with confusion.
"Our parents couldn't care less, Amara. Then again, they never were too concerned about us in the first place." David explains calmly.
Amara nodded her head slowly as she let that piece of information sink in. "So, it's just you four?"
Paul nodded his head, sky-blue eyes alight with happiness as he rose from his seat and came to stand in front of her. Taking Amara's hand in his own, he led her over to the worn couches beside the fountain.
"Now it is," Paul uttered as they sat down on the soft couches.
Amara frowned. "Now it is?"
"We used to live here with two others but that didn't work out." Marko piped up from his spot in front of the bookshelf.
Amara hummed in acknowledgement, letting Marko's words hang in the air before Paul broke the silence with his muttered explanation. "Because of some guy."
"A guy?"
David glared at Paul, shaking his head in exasperation as he rubbed his face with his gloved hand. Amara watched, mildly amused as the platinum-blonde peered up at the ceiling as though praying for some semblance of patience. Marko's lips upturned into a cheeky grin as he noticed the way Amara bit her lip to suppress her smile, shaking his head as he let the small white pigeon go and crossed the room to sit down beside her.
"And what a mistake that was," David uttered lowly, tearing his icy stare away from the cave ceiling.
Amara's brows came together as Paul muttered something about a dog beneath his breath. Marko's eyes narrowing into a glared as he leaned across the back of the couch and smacked Paul upon the shoulder. A soft chuckle slipped past her lips as Amara watched the two interact-every little thing they did reminding her more and more of siblings fighting amongst themselves. Marko's hazel eyes hardened as Amara caught the ending of Dwayne's muttered response.
The small, curly blonde-haired biker leant down and picked up a small pebble as Amara blinked in mute shock; trying and failing to hide the amusement across her face with their antics. Amara's lips parted in shock as Marko tossed the small greying pebble at Dwayne's chest. A triumphant grin etched across his face as the brunette levelled him with a deathly glare. Paul chuckled as Marko leant back into the couch, resting his arm across the back of the seat while throwing Dwayne a mocking smirk from over the top of Amara's head.
David shook his head as a disappointingly fed up sigh spilled from his mouth. Icy-blue eyes watching the entire interaction as though he'd seen it many times before. David's eyes met Amara's, his eyebrows lifting as a smirk lifted the edges of his mouth.
"Marko, food." He ordered smoothly, blue eyes never straying from Amara's as he held her stare.
Marko huffed, glancing down at Amara quickly before he stood from the couch and disappeared down the dimly lit tunnel. His footsteps echoed throughout the cave, the sound of the waves crashing against the rock face barely decipherable from within the cavernous home. Paul fidgeted for several moments, searching through the pockets of his pants before a sound of triumph bubbled from the excitable blonde. Amara turned her head toward him, fawn-brown eyes alight with regale as his Atlantic-blue eyes met her own.
Paul twirled the pre-rolled joint between his fingers, dirty-blonde eyebrows wiggling as he pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit the pasty-white joint. Tipping his head back with a delighted smile across his face as the smoke filled his lungs with one inhale and left them in another cloud of smoke.
"Tell me, Amara. How long have you been in Santa Carla?" David asked from his position in the ancient wheelchair.
"Not long. I've been here for three days now."
"What brings you to Santa Carla, of all places? Not a lot of people have heard of the famous 'Murder Capital of the World'." He drawls, toying with the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear.
Amara's nose scrunched up with displeasure, the disdain she held towards her parent's divorce clear within her expression. "My parents divorced. Mum stayed in Phoenix with my older brother. Dad and I moved to Santa Carla."
Paul nodded his head, inhaling another lungful of smoke as he rested his head upon the back of the couch, his arm slung across the back of the chair while his eyes darted from rock crevice to rock crevice of the ceiling.
Amara's eyes flitted over to Dwayne as he sat up on the couch across from her, elbows coming to rest upon his thighs while his umber-brown eyes locked with her own; interest swirling within his dark irises.
"How old are you, Amara?" Dwayne asked softly, the deep timbre of his voice calming and pleasant to hear.
"Eighteen."
"And, your father lets you wander the boardwalk alone?"
"Why shouldn't he?"
"It's dangerous after dark in Santa Carla."
Amara arched an eyebrow doubtfully as his words sent a sense of déjà vu through her-reminding Amara of what her mother had said before they'd left for Santa Carla. And, just like her father, Amara plastered a carefree smile across her face and spoke. "There's nothing to be afraid of in Santa Carla."
David's disdainful laugh filled the cave, his glacier-blue eyes dancing with amusement as Paul lifted his head from the back of the couch to look down at Amara in surprise.
"Nothing to be afraid of? Oh, sweetheart. There's always something to be afraid of after dark." David drawled as Amara turned her head to face him.
Amara shrugged dismissively. David's expression turning to stone as he bristled from her dismissal. Amara's head turned in the direction of the cave entrance as footsteps echoed to meet her ears, Marko's beaming face emerging from the shadow's seconds later-a large brown box held within his hands as he maneuvered his way through the cave with ease.
"Who's hungry?" Marko questioned in a sing-song type of voice, hazel eyes flickering over towards David briefly as a small frown marred his face.
"Me!" Paul exclaimed. Jolting up from the couch in a rush to get to the food, his shoulder knocking into Amara's as he scrambled off the chair and snatched the box from Marko's hands.
Marko merely shook his head without a single trace of surprise in his eyes, shrugging his shoulders as he followed the taller blonde back to the couch. Paul released a sound from the back of his throat akin to that of a whine, pouting as he pulled a carton of Chinese food from the box.
"Chinese? Again?"
Marko ruffled the pouting blonde's hair, sitting down beside Amara on the couch as he leant over and pulled the cardboard box from Paul's lap into his own. "Quit your whining, Paul. You know it's the only place open after dark." Marko scolded, pulling two cartons of Chinese from the box before tossing a box of Chinese towards Dwayne, who caught it with ease.
Marko passed Amara one of the unopened boxes of food. The mouth-watering smell of Chinese spices and sauces greeting her senses as Amara opened the medium-sized white box. A hushed laugh fell from Amara's lips as her mind drifted to a story her father had told her about a carton of rice he'd once believed had been real live maggots. The harmless, unmoving special fried rice eliciting a soft rumble from Amara's stomach.
Marko and Paul chuckled lightly at the sound. The two blondes digging into their cartons of food like it was their last meal on earth, nudging the other playfully as they ate. Amara shook her head as her eyes lifted to meet David's, his brows furrowed as he watched Amara closely-his icy-blue eyes trying to decipher Amara from across the room.
"What'd you think of Santa Carla so far, Amara?" Paul questioned with a half-finished mouthful of food.
Amara shook her head as she deadpanned the blonde who sat beside her. "It's been a refreshing difference to Phoenix."
"So, you didn't like Phoenix?" Marko asked.
"It was okay, but something about Santa Carla is... inviting. It seems to appeal to everyone that comes down to the boardwalk."
"Like you're supposed to be there, right?" Paul pipes up, lifting another spoonful of rice to his mouth as he waited for Amara to respond.
Amara nodded her head as she chewed her mouthful of rice, swallowing before she spoke again. "Oddly enough, yes. The boardwalk has a type of allure for everyone. Something captures someone's attention and there's always something to feed that curiosity."
"Sounds like a siren's call to me," David uttered from the wheelchair, chopsticks in hand as he lifted a mouthful of noodles to his mouth.
Amara chuffed with amusement, musing over the platinum-blonde's words as she ate another spoonful of rice. "Maybe you're right, but something tells me that Santa Carla is the city for the lost."
"City of the lost. Murder Capital of the World. It's all the same thing, different but still alike." David spoke with surety.
"I think people come to Santa Carla in search of a place to belong. Either they find what they're looking for within the boardwalk or they become one of the many missing persons of Santa Carla." Amara paused as she mulled over her own words. "And maybe that's why it's the Murder Capital of the World."
David lifted his eyebrows, fascination seeping into his chilling irises. "What do you mean?"
Amara sighed, raking her hand through her hair as she tried to find another way to describe the way she thought Santa Carla worked and what made it the feared 'Murder Capital of the World'. "You come to Santa Carla in hopes of something new. Something better, right?"
David nodded his head, interest well and truly peaked as he leant forward in the ancient wheelchair. "Right."
"And, you either find what you were looking for or a piece of you dies when you realise that nothing within this world can bring you happiness, surety or a sense of calm."
David hummed, glacier-blue eyes filling with a look that Amara couldn't decipher as a satisfied smile spread across his face. The intimidating aura that surrounded him easing slightly as he seemed to see Amara in a new light.
"A piece of you dies when you enter Santa Carla, Amara. It's just if they can save you in time that counts."
A/N: Amara's officially in the lion's den now and subtle hints are being dropped that she continues to miss (which I enjoy writing with).
The perks of being the writer never get old :) What're we thinking so far? Any favourites yet? Or is it too soon?
Thank you so much for 232 reads! And so quickly, wow !