Youngblood Chronicles: Don't Panic

Chapter 5

"Okay, last night we said we weren't gonna save him, now we want to?" I asked. "I'm extremely confused here."

"We said we were going to save the Herold if we were able to save Fall Out Boy, and we did. So now we have to save this guy." Knight said.

"So where do we find him?" Nickel asked. I thought for a moment. Several people talked while I thought.

"He was in the woods during The Mighty Fall. Maybe he's there." Cinnamon said.

"But we were just there!" History yelled. "How we would go back there, and get back in time? It's almost 3 now!"

"Calm down Harper!" Tiger yelled.

"Don't use her real name, Travis!" Cinnamon yelled.

"Shut up Cacey!" Tiger yelled.

"All you damned people need to shut up!" I yelled. "I'll take a team with me and go back to the woods. We can pretend to be camping out there, and if we find the Herold, we'll come back."

"Wait, is it possible he could've moved?" History said. I nodded.

"Again, I'll take a team. If we have to, we can search all night." I nodded.

"Who will be on your team?" I huffed.

"Damn it. Okay." I looked at Cinnamon. "Cinnamon, Jargon, History, and Thyme," Thyme was a blonde kid with freckles and our home auto expert. "And maybe Pete, to identify the Herold."

"That's really risky, are you sure you wanna bring Pete?" Tiger asked.

"Yeah, positive." He nodded.

"Get ready, we'll get a minivan ready." I gave him the raised eye.

"But the vans don't work?" He smiled.

"Not anymore. We got one working. Now get ready, you're leaving in an hour." Cinnamon and I left and changed. As I walked, I saw the four band members sitting on the floor in a circle. I walked over to them.

"Hey Pete, we need you to come with us. We're trying to save the Herold, and you're the only one who saw him." Pete looked at the other band members.

"Isn't that like really risky?" Joe asked. I nodded.

"Yeah, but he's the only one who knows what the Herold really looks like." Pete got up.

"I'll come with you. What do I need to do?" I smiled at him.

"You need to get into different clothes, something that will make you a little less likely to stick out. Our cover is we are going camping." Pete nodded and then walked off. Patrick walked up to me.

"Why are you doing this?" I looked at him, straight into his eyes.

"My parents are part of this thing. I want to stop it and get them back. They were both fricking brainwashed." I put the earbuds back into his hand.

"You need to keep these with you. If someone tells you to put them in, do it, okay?" Patrick nodded then I walked away.

About an hour and a half later, I was packed into a minivan with 7 people. Pete was driving, and he had changed into a camo jacket, jeans, and some sneakers. I wore a light blue tank top, black jeans, a white flannel, and combat boots. The boys wore red shirts with jeans and boots or sneakers, and Thyme had on a faded white baseball cap. History and Cinnamon wore purple shirts, Cinnamon had a black hoodie, History had a camo surplus army cap, both wore jeans and sneakers.

We stopped in a wooded area and got out. Slowly, we began to fan out, shouting some camping stuff every now and again. We had been searching for about 30 minutes, and the sun was going down. We meet up again.

"Damn it, that was the 5th area!" Cinnamon yelled.

"Shut up!" Jargon nearly yelled.

"Okay, let's just keep going," I said.

"She's right," History nodded at me. "We are only 15 minutes or so from the warehouse." We started back to the blue Chrysler Town and Country minivan we had. In the corner of my eye, I caught something. I walked toward the woods and saw a person. He was African American and blended in pretty well with the dark.

"Guys! I think I found him!" I yelled. Then, I whispered to him, "Are you the Herald." He looked at me, astounded.

"How did you know?" I looked at him.

"I should..." Just then, my walkie-talkie sputtered to life.

"Help! We're being attacked!" The talkie screamed. I grabbed it and started talkie.

"Base this is Alpha 3, what the hell is going on over there?!"

"Galaxy! Oh God!" It was Gamer.

"Gamer! What the hell is going on?"

"We're being attacked! Hurry, you need to get back! They want Patrick and the other Fall Out Boys!" My talkie suddenly cut off. I looked at the Herold, both of us had panic all over our face. I grabbed his arm and sprinted off toward the van.

"We gotta get back!" I yelled. The other 4 kids had also heard the message and were already in the van. The Herold got into the front passenger seat and I got into the left middle seat.

"Hit the gas!" I yelled. Pete hit the gas and headed toward our warehouse. We screamed down the road at over 100 miles an hour, probably closer to 150 miles per hour, way more than I thought that it could.

We reached the warehouse within 10 minutes, and I could tell something was very wrong. There were 3 or more black vans parked in front of our warehouse. I jumped up, threw the door open, and sprinted out. I had my rifle, pistol, knife, hammer, and my headlamp on my utility belt as I ran in. 2 or 3 people followed me in, and I threw open the door.

I started in horror at what was going on inside. Everyone tried to get past me but was stopped by the horrific nature of what was going on.

"Oh my God," History whispered.

"So this is what war looks like," I whispered. Pete looked at me, then gapped.

"Oh God!" I just started in, then one of the cultists turned around and spotted us.

"Damn it," I said. Then, holding my knife high, I screamed, then charged in, followed by the other people who were in the car with me. Together, we entered the fray.