The Hellhound's Mate

Chapter 20

"They're gone," Chris groaned as Jordan rounded the corner of the water-treatment plant, gun and torch at the ready.

"How long have you been like this?" he asked as he examined the rebar that had gone through Chris and impaled him into the wall before being bent, preventing him from escaping as blood dripped down his legs and pooled at his feet.

"I don't know. Might have blacked out a few times," Chris wheezed.

"Peter Hale did this?"

"You've been following him?"

"Every day since Meredith Walker," Jordan answered.

"Listen to me. Kate's going after Scott. Peter and Kate. You've got to warn them."

"I can't. there's no service down here," he explained.

"Then go."

"If I leave you down here, you'll be dead by the time I get back. We're getting you out of here and I'm getting some help."

"How?" Chris wheezed as Jordan noted the sharp edge of the rebar, squeezing his hand on it until he hissed as it drew blood.

"Don't worry about it," he replied as he took off his jacket, using the sleeve to staunch the blood flow quickly before throwing it down as he placed his hand around the bar as he tried to straighten it.

Meanwhile, Angie was sitting with her father and Malia as they watched her brother lose his lacrosse game badly. "Scott's not answering and neither is Kira. We gotta go find them," Stiles urged, a hand on his dad's shoulder.

"Want me to stay here in case he shows up?" Malia offered.

"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good. Dad, Angie, come with me," Stiles said but as she stood, her right hand was riddled with pain.

"Actually, I have to go. Jordan's in trouble," she piped up and her brother turned to her.

"What are you talking about? How do you know?"

"It's a long story and I'll explain later. I'll text you," she promised as she kissed Stiles' cheek and then her father's before jogging off.

But even though Jordan had called for help, he didn't need it in the end.

"I'm sorry," he panted as he stopped pulling, Chris wailing in agony as the rebar refused to move. "I can't do it myself. It's not bending back and it's not coming out of the wall."

"Leave," Chris rasped.

"I can't do that either," Jordan replied. "I need you to help me. I know you're hurt and you're tired, but I need you to gather everything you've got and help me."

"I've got nothing," Chris responded, his voice saddened.

"Grab the bar, Chris," Jordan encouraged with a hand on his shoulder.

"I've got nothing left," he despaired. "Please, just go. You're running out of time."

"Do you know what you need? Adrenaline. There's two ways to get it. Fear and anger. Since you don't look like a guy who's afraid of anything, you need to get angry," Jordan instructed. "you need to get so angry that your brain lets loose every bit of adrenaline it has left!"

"I'm too tired to be angry," Chris whispered.

"Ok, I don't know you, but Angie's told me what you've been through. I know about Victoria. And I know about Allison."

And Chris started to cry at the mention of his daughter's name.

"I know how she felt about Scott. And I think that if she knew what was happening to him, she'd be pretty angry. Angry enough to try one more time to get the hell out of here! Because she would not let Peter Hale win."