"M-Marl—"
"Sorry, Marley's not home right now." Her eyes are replaced with black holes. I'm lifted up off the ground. Not-Marley cocks her head to the side. "I always got to clean up everyone's mess. You try and kill one girl and then suddenly it all falls to Hell."
I try and pry Not-Marley's hand off my throat, but it feels like she increases her grip more.
"Don't struggle, hon, it makes it much worse on you," she simpers.
The lights cut out, plunging us into darkness. I hear Not-Marley growl, and I hear more screaming. Now, I hear gunshots. I have no idea where they're coming from.
I fall forward blindly, coughing, as I'm released. I keep low on the ground. Some low backup lights come on, and things start to become clearer. I see the man from before, firing at Not-Cole. The trench coat man is nowhere in sight. And now, there's a third guy, almost as tall (at least I think so, I can't compare them unless they're side-by-side) as the flannel guy, with longer hair, taking on Not-Marley.
Not-Cole runs off, out a pair of doors, where most likely the frightened herd of students are. I slowly get to my feet, seeing the guy with the shorter hair run out after Not-Cole. Not-Marley screams, pulling my attention.
Acting instinctively, I run towards her scream. As I get closer, the long-haired guy gets in my way, stopping me. I look at him frantically, he just shakes his head. In his hand, I notice a small recorder. It's playing something, words I don't understand.
Not-Marley's head snaps upwards, and I cringe as I hear her scream. Black smoke shoots out of Marley's mouth, and I take a few steps back in horror as it flies away, through the doors where the students are. Marley's body collapses, and I run around the guy to kneel at her body.
"Marley?!" I ask hysterically. Her eyelids are fluttering, but she's not responding to me. "Mar?" I put an ear to her chest.
I nearly give myself a panic attack when I almost miss the faint heartbeat. I let out a shaky breath of relief and rest back on my knees, trembling. The recording has stopped, now all that remains is silence.
"She's alive," I whisper to the guy, who's watching me pitifully with hazel eyes. I put my face in my hands. "I...What..."
"Let's get you outside," he offers.
I nod slowly, getting to my feet. He scoops Marley up into his arms and carries her out while I walk in front of him, shell-shocked.
The brisk air outside makes me shiver. Ambulance and police sirens are getting closer, I can hear them. Students and faculty are on their phones, texting or calling others. I remain mute and afraid. My mind can't comprehend what just happened.
Homecoming has become a disaster.
I watch in the background as police and medics arrive. They go inside to survey the damage. About a quarter of the Homecoming attendees have already left, me being the exception. I keep an eye on Marley, and the tall guy who has her, as he hands her off to the paramedics. I cross my arms and shiver through the cold.
"Take this."
I shy away as the guy from before, not the trench coat guy, the other one, hands me a heavy jacket. I eye it suspiciously, and the guy rolls his green eyes at me. Reluctantly, I take it, and I adjust to the slight heaviness. "Thanks," I mumble.
Concerned parents are rushing to get their kids away from the school and into their cars. My phone. Mom. I feel around in my bra for my phone, but I realize it's not there. It must've been dropped when...
"Some night this turned out to be," I continue to myself. I look at the guy strangely. "What the hell was that back there? Who're you and your merry band of weirdos?"
"FBI." He flashes it to me so quickly I'm unable to tell if it's fake. Part of me wants it to be real, but at the same time...
"You don't look like Feds, any of you." I sniff.
"The point of being undercover."
"Why would the Feds want to crash a Homecoming?"
"Did you see what happened?"
"Yeah, and a lot of it I don't believe." I rub my forehead, I can feel the pressure squeezing my brain. The guy with the longer hair comes over to us. "She gonna be okay?"
"Yeah, paramedics say she's gonna be fine," he says, clearing his throat. He looks to the other guy. "We need to go, before we look suspicious."
I snort. "Some FBI you guys are. Scared of the cops?"
"You told her we were FBI?"
The guy with the shorter hair looks a little frustrated. "You just had to say something, didn't you? I was working an angle here."
I laugh nervously. "Okay, if this is some kidnapping stunt, I'm just gonna—" When I turn, I'm met with the trench coat guy. "God damn, you're quiet."
"You're too easy to sneak up on," he says. All these guys' voices are deep, on different registers. He looks over my head at the two men behind me. "This is her."
"The one you're sure they're after?" asks the guy with longer hair.
"Yes, she fits the description."
"I'm sorry, say what now?" I ask.
The trench coat guy looks down on me. "Unfortunately, you're going to have to come with us."
"Whoa, no." I back up. "I'm not going anywhere with you guys. I need to call my mom and get her to come get me."
"That's not wise. If you do that, you put your mother at risk."
My mouth parts. "What are you talking about?"
"If you come with us, we can...explain."
"You gonna abduct me if I don't?" I raise an eyebrow.
"No."
"If you wanna know what happened with your so-called boyfriend," says the guy with shorter hair, who's not in a trench coat, "you're gonna want to come with us."
But Mom. I can't leave her. I need to contact her. I need to go home. I need to try and understand what's happening here. My mind is spinning.
"Should I put her unconscious?" asks the trench coat guy.
"Unconscious?" I squeak. This is looking more like a kidnapping.
"Cas, no," says the guy with the longer hair. He offers me a tender look. "Just, please. I know you don't know us, let alone trust us. But, we have the answers you're looking for."
Then do you know who my dad is? I really want to be smart with these guys right now.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this," I say, exasperated. "Fine, take me to your secret lair or whatever."
I follow the three through the thinning crowd of students, to an older car which looks far from old. It looks like it gets polished daily. I sit in the back with the trench coat guy—Cas—while the other two are up front. The engine is loud and startles me. I look around through the window.
I think I see Cole—or Not-Cole, whoever it really is. But when I blink, they're not there.
When the car moves away from the high school, it's practically silent.
"You want to explain some things, so start talking," I break the quiet.
"Not until we're someplace safe," says the guy with the longer hair.
"Fine, can I at least get your names?"
"So you can rat us out to the cops?" asks the driver.
I roll my eyes. "No, so I can...thank you for saving me in there. Not so much for driving away and abducting me."
"It's not abduction when you agree to going."
"Names, guys."
"I'm Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean," says the guy in the passenger seat, the one with the longer hair. "And sitting back there with you is Castiel."
I look at Castiel—Cas. "What are you exactly?"
Cas looks at me, slightly uncomfortable. "Let's hold those questions until we get to the bunker."
"I can't know now, because...?"
"Yeah, why not, Cas?" asks Dean. "If she freaks, she takes her chance of tucking and rolling out of a moving car. Doubt she's that crazy."
"I don't know," I say uneasily. "I just might."
Sam looks at me with concern, like he's really hoping that I don't actually jump out of a moving car.
There's still time to consider it.
"It might be a while, so you can knock out back there," Dean tells me.
"I could always put her to sleep," says Cas.
"No, thanks," I say quickly, shrinking against the one car door. "I'll sleep on my own."
I watch all three of the men in the car at times. None of them speak a word. I don't try and make conversation.
Marley's hurt. Not-Cole is in the wind. I'm being taken to someplace I don't know by three guys who just saved my life. My mom is going to be worried sick. I don't have my phone, and I don't know her number by heart (it kind of makes me miss the landlines, it practically forced you to memorize numbers).
Eventually, when my mind clears up a bit, I find myself dozing uncomfortably against the car door.
**What, did you think it was gonna take me long to sweep her into the action?
If you've read other works of mine, you know how I operate.**