Gₒₒd ₒₗd₋Fₐₛₕᵢₒₙₑd ₗₒᵥₑᵣ Bₒy ~ Dᵢᵣₖ Gₑₙₜₗy

Prologue: Night Terrors

"What's going on? Talk to me!"

"This is it. My last phone call. Good of them to grant me that, I guess. My last phone call to say don't come looking. Don't let them find you."

"You know I'm not just going to let you go. We're coming to get you."

"Please don't. Why do you think they targeted me? They want to get to you. Don't let them."

"I'm not going to leave you! Just tell me where you are, we can come and rescue you."

"It's obviously a trap. I won't see more people than necessary hurt because of me."

"But what if I don't want you hurt?"

"That's beyond changing now. I need you to let go."

"No."

"Please don't make this harder than it already is. I'm trying to save your life."

"I don't want to be saved. I want you back with me."

"We both know that's impossible."

"Please-"

"I'm sorry. I have to."

"I- I love you."

"I know."

Amanda Brotzman awoke in a cold sweat. She wiped the back of her palm across her forehead, shaking slightly. Her skin was clammy. Another vision. She'd been getting better at controlling them, no longer needing one of the Rowdy Three to trigger a pararibulitus attack to see the things she did. They were far from comfortable, though. And this was one of those rare ones that were intrinsically specific.

Usually it was jump cut scenes that she had to work hard to remember. But this was undoubtedly clear. It was a sort of phone call conversation. She didn't know the subject of the call, but judging from what was said, she inferred nothing good.

"What did you see, Boss?" Vogel called from the other side of the van. She sat up from where she'd been draped across the back seats, resting her head in her hands.

"Don't rush her now. Take it slow, drummer girl." Martin scolded the youngest male slightly. Beast half walked, half crawled over as Cross and Grips also leaned in to hear the tale.

"It was some kind of conversation. I don't know what they were talking about, but it was about rescuing one of the people on the line. They didn't want to be rescued." She rubbed her head slightly. "And I recognise the voices." This was perhaps the thing that had shaken her slightly, reeling with fear.

"You recognised them?" Cross asked, eyebrows quirking upwards.

"It was Dirk and Sicillian." The response was met with a stunned silence. Vogel shared a look with Grips, silently communicating worry. From what Amanda had said, it didn't seem like a positive call.

"Well, what do you suppose we do?" Martin asked the ravenette leader.

"It's Blackwing. It has to be. They're going after the two of them. We have to warn them." She made up her mind, already on her feet, headed to the driver's seat. She wrapped shaking hands round the wheel. Her friends were in danger.

"What's the plan?" The younger Brotzman took a deep breath before answering, turning the key in the ignition. The van roared to life.

"We're going to Seattle."