Fangs | mlm

Chapter 33 - All or nothing

TW/CW — violence, brutality, blood

The van stopped beside them both. Soon the rear door flew open, and Houston emerged from behind it. He jumped out of the van, his legs wide and boots sinking deep into the snow. He had glasses on his nose, but it didn't deceive the brunet from noticing a gun on his belt, though hidden under the white coat. After eyeing two vampires, he shook his hands off and nodded them in.

While Miranda was raising her bare foot to step in, Trevor pricked up his ears when he heard the snow crunching close by, and he knew the others had to hear it too. It couldn't be any of the people that were already there. So he knew it was his time to break free. He shoved her arm away with both of his that worked as one due to the rope, and kicked her leg that stood on the snow and supported her weight, throwing her off balance. Consequently, she tumbled and let go of the gun. However, as she was falling, she managed to grab Trevor again and brought him down with her, before her head hit the threshold.

From this perspective, Trevor could see silhouettes emerging from behind trees and running towards them. The sun had taken on a more deep orange tone, and it was getting darker in the sky, so shadows seemed to have become more extended and prolonged. It might have been a reason why he thought those people had fur. Those brown hairs covering their bodies might have just been the shadows' doing. Or it might have been him imaging things as well.

"Shit," Houston muttered. He then reached for the gun, but Jackson was there to punch him in the cheek so strongly that the glasses fell off his nose. Houston didn't wait long to return the punch.

Unfortunately, Trevor couldn't watch them fight any more, since Miranda pulled him up and dragged him into the van, before slamming the door shut. After locking it, she leant against it and heaved a sigh of relief. She then looked at the brunet, eyes piercing, but didn't speak, at least not in words. Instead, she walked over to the wall and slapped it a few times in order to signalise the driver they were ready to go.

There were two benches there. Miranda sat down on one of them, bent forward, as Trevor felt the van begin to move. He was sitting on the floor, and as he felt smaller when she was staring down at him, he shifted to the seat opposite her. Now they looked at each other in silence, which Trevor thought was extremely awkward, and his expression couldn't have hidden it.

The van stopped one time. Miranda stood up, walked to the tiny window in the rear door, hand on the belt, and looked through it. Her face suddenly changed, its sharpness somehow faded. Trevor didn't know what was going on, but it couldn't be any good for her. Of course, everything that was going badly for her meant it was going well for him. A funny dependency of their situation.

With a hand on the handle, she reached to her hip, but hearing shots kept her from taking the gun. Trevor couldn't help flinching and gripping the bench tighter, though he knew the shots weren't aimed at him. Shortly after, the van returned to moving, and she sat down again, like this had never happened.

The van didn't stop again, not immediately. Instead, it veered and skidded so suddenly that Trevor fell down from the bench, as he had almost nothing to hold on to. On the other hand, Miranda was just fine. She did the same as earlier. But this time, she frowned after, which might have meant she hadn't seen anything unusual, that this sudden halt was strange.

However, Ashe's screaming assured them something wrong had happened to the driver. Miranda looked like a lost child, her mouth open and eyes wide, thinking what to do. Although she soon set her jaw and looked at the brunet.

"Okay," she began, voice low yet firm, "we're gonna leave now and somehow get to the front. I'm gonna drive, and you sit still. Do you understand?"