Fingerprints

Seventeen- POV Jordan

"Harry, the gang that took her is M-18. They get drunk girls walking home from 18th Avenue downtown. That's my old gang. I know where they took her- I know where she is," D said quickly, stuttering.

        "Well let's get fucking moving then," Anthony said.

        "Someone has to watch Jaycee," I said, as Harry and D ran out the door. He looked at the front door that had just slammed, and quickly looked back at me.

        "You know what the car looks like, I trust you guys," he said. I nodded at him, and looked genuinely in his eyes. "Now go! Move!" He said, hugging me quickly, then pushing me away. I tied my hair back fast, and opened the door to see Harry in his black Porsche, waiting for me.

        "Come on!" D said from the passenger seat, and I ran to the car. I opened the back door, and got in. His car looked brand new on the inside, except for the band magazines, folders, and 8th and L band tees on the floor. He gassed it, and we were heading in the direction D was telling us. I really had no idea his first name at the time. He didn't tell anyone.

        "Left here," he said pointing. We turned onto 24th street, just six streets away from where Johanna had been taken.

        "Where exactly are we going?"

        "I know where they keep the girls, but they could be anywhere now."

        "Wait, why do you say that?" Harry asked frantically, glancing at him from the road.

        "They have a tracker on all of their old gang members. Like on our phones. To make sure we don't fuck up their plans."

        "Fuck," Harry said. I kept looking out the windshield at the cars in front of us.

        "Turn here! Right!" D demanded, and Harry made a fast, sharp right, "It's here, it's right here." D pointed to an old, but huge building with a big garage. It looked like a small, hidden warehouse. At the same time, I noticed a familiar car. A Range Rover. A black one. Where have I seen this before? The windows were tinted very dark, and it was moving quickly- faster than the other cars on the road.

        "There!" I yelled, pointing up front. "That's the car that took her! She's in there!"

        "Are you positive?" Harry asked me sternly, speeding up to the SUV. I squinted my eyes to try and look past the tint on the windows, and I saw a man in the back seat, and a petite girl, with darker hair- in a bun.

        "I'm almost one hundred percent sure," I said, still doubting myself. As the SUV turned left, we caught a glimpse of the girl in the back and my heart stopped when I saw her. Her. Johanna. She was alive, and she was right in front of us.

        "It's her," Harry said, breathless.

        "Don't follow them, trust me. Just go. We're gonna meet up with them head on," D said, and Harry did as he told him without any question.

        "Put on your seat belt," Harry said, emotionless. His tone frightened me, but I did anyways.

        "Harry, what are you doing?" I asked, looking over to see that he already had his on. But, no answer. He just kept listening to D's directions; turn after turn. I realized we just made a big circle.

        "Right there," D said, pointing to the same SUV, the one we had seen Johanna in a few minutes ago, but it was far in front of us, about three streets down. I didn't understand. I didn't know what they were up to. Harry stopped at the last stop sign on that road, and glanced behind him, at me. His eyes were serious, and his lips pressed into a line.

        "Get out of the car," He said. 

        "Harry what?"

        "Both of you, actually." D and I looked at each other, and we looked back at Harry.

        "Please!" He raised his voice. "There's not much time. Please go. Trust me, Jordan." We agreed to get out, for some reason. He sounded confident, and time was ticking, I knew that. We both took our seat belts off, and got out of the car, running over to the sidewalk on the left of the car. Harry looked over at us, confused, as if he were deciding something.

        "Harry," I said loudly to him, seeing his window was down about an inch. His head lowered, and he looked down at the Porsche logo on his steering wheel, then back up at the road. I looked over at D, who had a stunned look on his face.

        "What's he doing..." I said, trailing off.

        "No.." D said. I looked back at Harry, and he floored it.

        "Harry!" I yelled, and we found ourselves sprinting down the side walk, following Harry's car three blocks down, where he was heading. Johanna's kidnappers' SUV turned left, and Harry made it to their car in time- in the midst of their turn. The cringing sound of metal on metal filled the nearly vacant backroad of New York, and a cloud of black smoke floated into the air after the tinkling sounds of shattered glass subsided. We heard shouts from bystanders on the sidewalk, and we kept running, closer and closer to the scene, adrenaline racing through my body. 

        "Go find Johanna!" I told D. He'd be able to help her more that I could. I ran over to Harry's Porsche, almost not even recognizing it. The window was completely broken, so I saw Harry inside, conscious.  When it finally opened, he looked up at me.

        "Harry." His name was all I could get out. 

        "Is she okay?" He asked loudly.

        "Harry, are you okay?"

        "Jordan, I need-"

        "Harry, before you think about other people, you need to think of yourself. Are you okay?" I asked sternly. He didn't answer right away, but I reached over him, and unbuckled his seat belt.

        "I am fine." There were no cuts or anything on his face, or any visible bruising. I held out my hand, and helped him weave his way out of his destroyed car. The steering wheel, and the dash board were about a foot closer than they normally are, from the impact. As soon as he got on both feet, one of his legs gave out, and he swore in pain. 

        "Yeah, you're not fine," I said wrapping my arm around his waist, keeping him upright.

        "Jordan! She's here!" I look up, and through the cloud of smoke I see D, running toward us.

        "Help me help him," I said to D over the commotion.

        "What's wrong with him?"

        "His leg, I don't know. The dash was pushed into it." We both had our arms around Harry, supporting him, and D led us over to a lifeless looking Johanna. This isn't how I wanted to see her for the first time. My stomach dropped. When we reached her, D let go of Harry, and pulled out his phone to dial 911.

        "Jo," Harry said, kneeling down to her, though his leg was most likely broken. I sat on the other side of her; opposite of him.

        "Don't move her," He said gently. She was on her back, and her head was hanging towards Harry, unconscious. He moved the piece of hair out of her face, and gently cupped her jaw, wiping blood off her cheek with his thumb. He cried. He cried her name, and that he loved her so much, and that she didn't deserve this. It was heartbreaking to see Johanna like this, and Harry being an emotional wreck just adds to my heart break. I couldn't even believe what had just happened.

        "Hey," D said gently. I looked up, and Harry followed, still holding onto Johanna. He moved the phone from his mouth, and asked softly, "Is she alive?" My heart stopped. That was the worst question I've ever been asked. I looked down at Johanna, and pressed two of my fingers to her neck, hoping for the feeling of her blood pumping. My heart broke more and more with each passing second that I couldn't find her pulse, and you could tell Harry's was too. Right as I was about to give up, and look up to D to shake my head, I felt the relieving, gentle thumping of her vein through my fingers.

        "Yes," I looked up at D. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Harry look to me, eyes sparkling, "She's alive."