Won't Let You Go | Owen Grady

Chapter Nineteen

Present Day

It wasn't hard to continue through the valley in what should have been the right direction ; just follow the trailer of carnage. It got to the point where Charlie couldn't look out the side windows, just straight ahead. She didn't want to see these beautiful creatures destroyed in such a way. And she had gone silent, not making a sound or moving a muscle. It was like her whole body had gone into shut down mode. She noticed Owen kept giving her nervous glances in the rear view mirror, checking up on her, making sure she was alive back there.

As they drove, her mind drifted to Red. He was all alone, out there somewhere, not even aware of the dangerous thing that could be headed his way. After they got the kids out of this mess, he would be her next priority. She wouldn't leave without him. She wouldn't leave him to die. Her conscience would never let her do that.

After a few minutes of driving, the Jeep veered, taking them off the traveled path and further into the valley, heading towards the treeline. Charlie almost opened her mouth to ask where they were going, but stopped herself. She didn't know how the worlds would feel on her tongue, feel coming out of her mouth. She didn't know if her voice would catch in her throat or trip over her own teeth and she couldn't have that. She couldn't let people like Claire and Owen know she felt weak.

Owen drove the car expertly over the bumps and holes in the dirt, swerving around trees as he did so. It wasn't long until the came across the clearing. The last missing Gyrosphere was there, but everything was wrong. Charlie slowly got out of the car, slipping her backpack with her medical supplies over her shoulder. She tapped her belt twice, feeling the weight of her hunting knife there, just in case.

Half of the glass on the Gyrosphere was missing, sheered off, shatter on the ground around them. And it was empty, no sigh of the boys. What glass remained was caked in bits of dirt, as if it had been tossed around and smashed. Batted like a cat toy, Charlie couldn't help but think. She followed step behind Owen as he approached it, searching for signs of blood, of pain, wounds to heal. He pulled his pocket knife out as he approached, using it to wedge something out of the remaining metal frame. A tooth, large, slightly yellowed (maybe Charlie would have a talk with the dentist team after this, though she supposed they probably didn't know about this particular beast's existence). Owen turned, holding the tooth out to Charlie.

Charlie inspected it, turning it over, looking at the size and shape of it, feeling the weight in his palm. She slid her bag off of her shoulder and pocketed the tooth inside, as Claire pushed past her, muttering "Oh no, no, no, no." Charlie looked up, eyes tracing her as she moved. How the hell was she walking through the mud in those heels?

The red head bent over, picking something up off of the ground with shaky hands. A phone, blue case, completely shattered screen. Charlie's eyes widened just a little bit. That didn't bode well.

"Hey," Owen said suddenly, turning to Charlie then nodding forward, towards a patch of mud. "Look, prints. They made it out of here alive." Charlie followed the direction his index finger was pointed, looking down at the mud where to sets of footprints were. One big, one smaller. Claire's two nephews. Claire let out what sounded almost like a choked sob of relief.

"Let's go then," Charlie said, speaking for the first time since they had left the valley. She shifted her bag back over her shoulder and started following the tracks, stepping to the right side of them so as not to cover them if they needed to retrace or lost track at any point. Owen followed quickly behind her.

"Let me lead," he muttered to her, trying to grab her shoulder.

Charlie stopped, turning to face him, face pinched with annoyance. "I can take care of myself, thank you very much," she said, standing toe to toe with him. "I don't need you to lead the way, I can follow some damn footprints on the ground."