Chapter 42

I let Holden lead the way to Zach's house, as he seemed like he knew where he was going. Last time we were here he was our driver. He didn't get drunk like the rest of us. The law about drinking and driving was the only law Flynn made us obey. He lectured us countless times about this, more for our safety than for anyone else's.

Holden knocked on the front door of the house we arrived at. I vaguely remembered the glass structure held up by stone pillars.

"Seems like your luck has run out," I whispered into Holden's ear, since the door wasn't opened by Zach himself, but by an elderly lady. I assumed this was Zach's grandmother. Her face was a map of wrinkles that stretched across her pale skin, and she surveyed us from behind thick goggles that made her eyes look big and beady.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" she asked, with a heavy British accent.

"We're here to see Zach," I replied.

"More of his friends? Honestly, this place is becoming overridden."

"So we can't speak to him?" Holden addressed the old lady, but he looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

"Did I say that?" she asked. I could tell she was actually confused. It sounded like it wasn't a rhetorical question, the poor lady just couldn't remember what her own words had been.

"You actually told us to come inside and make ourselves at home," I told her, wondering how gullible and forgetful she was.

"Did I now?" She scratched her neck and racked her brain.

I nodded my head.

"Oh," she said and nodded her head the same way I had. "You two seem like very nice boys, but you'd better make it quick," she said as she wagged her finger at us. "Zach's not supposed to have any friends over, something about..." She looked up at the sky as if she was trying to remember what it was, but gave up after a while and opened the door for us.

"Thanks," I said, as I brushed past her and entered the house. There was a fireplace that was nestled in the wall. I could feel the heat from where I stood. I closed my eyes for a second, happy to be out of the cold.

"Zach!" she yelled up the stairs. I was surprised by the volume of her voice. I hadn't expected someone so old to be able to scream so loudly.

"What?" Zach yelled back, clearly irritated and not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice.

"Your friends are here," she responded, not bothered by the attitude he presented to her.

Zach rushed down the stairs in nothing but sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His long hair was loose, and around his neck was a shark tooth necklace that looked like it was about to pierce his bare chest. He stopped short when his eyes met mine. "Who are you?"

"We were at your party a couple of weeks ago," I explained.

"What party?" His granny scrunched her wrinkly nose in confusion.

"Did one of my friends invite you?" Zach ignored her, knowing she would forget everything that was said soon enough.

"A friend of a friend." I wasn't sure how true this was, but I stuck to it, because I couldn't remember how we had heard about the party.

"So, what are you doing here? The party's long gone and I'm not hosting anymore for a long time."

"We needed to ask you something about Ryder," Holden told him.

"Ryan," I corrected him.

"What about Ryan?" Zach enquired, rubbing the small stubble of his chin.

"He was with a girl,' I stated.

"Don't know anything about her. It was the first time I saw her."

"What was her relationship with Ryan?" I wasn't trying to sound jealous, but it just so happened that I was eager to know about how close Sage and Ryan were. Plus, I could hardly just bombard him with questions about where Ryan lived. "Were they together?" These words resulted in me getting a harsh jab from Holden. "Relax, I'm trying to kill two birds with one stone," I said in a very low voice, hoping Zach wouldn't be able to hear our quiet exchange.

"Kill the more important bird first," Holden muttered under his breath.

I redirected my attention back to Zach. "We need Ryan's address." I knew if I didn't cut straight to the chase, Holden would; and I preferred to be the one doing the talking, since it was my girl we were looking for.

"I can't give it to you." Zach shrugged nonchalantly, not even curious as to why we wanted it.

"You can't or you won't?" Holden put his hands together and cracked his knuckles, looking like a mafia leader.

"I don't know where he lives. I haven't known him that long."

"Then text him and ask for his address," I said, despite my resolve to stay calm. I couldn't keep my cool, not when I was so close to finding Sage. I stared Zach down, daring him to defy me.

"I..." Zach stuttered.

"You what?" I roared. My anger was only provoked when his granny stepped in front of him. I don't see how she expected to help him. She was a head shorter than him and her bones looked like they would crack if she even moved a little bit faster.

"Now look here," the old lady said. "Nobody talks to my grandbaby like that."

"You're not helping, Nana." Zach put a hand on her shoulder and steered her away. "Why don't you just go watch your soap operas?"

"Soap operas?" she repeated. That seemed to be the only two words she heard, and she kept repeating this over and over again, as she happily walked away. Her mind was far away from the scene that had just played out in front of her.

"You should leave." Zach was scared, but he tried to hide it as best he could.

"Or what?" I growled. "We're not leaving without the address. Give it to me, or I swear..." I grabbed him by his shark tooth pendant and lifted him a couple of centimetres above the ground. I was surprised the necklace didn't break: it seemed flimsy.

Zach spluttered and coughed, his saliva landing on my face.

"There's two of us and only one of you," Holden stated. "Kaden's stronger than you by himself, but imagine what would happen if my brawn was added. We'd cut you in half so many times, your family wouldn't be able to tell the difference between your nose and your toes."

Zach gulped as Holden's threat sunk in. I loosened my grip on him when he started to have difficulty breathing. "My phone..." he rasped.

"Where is it?" Holden asked.

"In the kitchen, on charge."

"I'll get it." Holden said and returned a minute later with the phone in his hand.

Zach held out his hand for the phone, but Holden kept it.

"Password?" Holden turned the phone on and punched the code in as Zach recited it to him. He scrolled through Zach's contacts until he found Ryan's number. He sent Ryan a quick text before turning to me. "Let's go."

"Are we keeping the phone?" I didn't really care if we did, I was just wondering why and what we'd do with it once we got the address. Sell it maybe?

"Yeah." Holden didn't offer any other explanation.

***

"We're stealing a car," I decided. It would take us all day to walk to Ryan's house from here. Ryan had very kindly sent us his address, under the pretence that Zach wanted to visit him.

"It's not far," Holden protested, entering the address into the phone's GPS. "Okay," he grimaced, "it is quite far."

"We've stolen loads of cars. We can steal one more."

"I'm not doubting my ability to steal, I'm doubting yours. Last time you robbed a supermarket you got arrested."

"Fine. You steal, I'll keep watch," I offered, not arguing since I knew everything Holden had said was true.

"Forget cars." He grinned as four motorcycles zoomed past us and stopped at a nearby café.

"Rather one car, than two motorcycles." I reasoned, sensing his train of thought.

Holden gave me a dark look. "Motorcycles are faster."

"Motorcycles are more dangerous." Sheesh, Holden was right Sage had changed me: since when did I worry about danger?

"Motorcycles are...cooler," he finished off lamely.

"How do we hot wire motorcycles?"

"How do you feel about a dogfight? You don't have long fingers anymore, but that doesn't mean you can't fight."

"We're outnumbered. I don't want to die before we find Sage."

"Why not? That girl will be the death of you in any event." He headed off to the motorcycles, just as the four guys were getting off.

"Hey." Holden greeted as he approached them. They all turned around at the exact same time, as if they were perfectly synchronised. If would be easy to take them down; they moved as one. Each move was orchestrated by the leader. Once we had one down, we'd know all their moves. They wouldn't do anything unexpected.

"Hey," one of the guys replied. Like the rest of them, he was heavily tattooed. He was probably about my age, but his macho build made him look older. He crossed his arms over his chest, as if he was closing himself in or shutting the outside world out.

"How much do you want for two of those bikes?" Holden asked, acting as if he was seriously considering buying them.

"They're not for sale," another man piped in.

"Would a couple of broken arms and bruised eyes do? Or maybe that's overpricing it. How about a nosebleed, one for each of you?" Holden grinned widely. This comment had sparked the attention of the other guys and now they all stood shoulder to shoulder. They were all around the same size and presenting a united front, making them seem like some sort of cult.

Holden threw the first punch, hitting the guy who had spoken first square in the jaw. His head fell backwards, and the rest of his body followed. There was a clank as his body collided with his motorcycle and he lay there motionless; with his chin touching his chest as if he was merely dozing. Note to self: don't choose that bike. He was big enough to have done some serious damage to the exterior of the vehicle.

His followers looked at him for less than a second before they pounced. One of them went for Holden and the other two came for me. It seemed like they were seeing me as the more likely threat, even though it was Holden who had started this whole thing.

I ducked under the first man's arm, as he began to swing at me; but grabbed his hand at the last second and twisted it harshly, until I heard the bones crack. He fell down with a scream and clutched his broken arm, but my victory was short lived.

The one rule in a fight is: always watch your back. A stabbing pain shot through me as a knife was lodged into my back, just below my shoulder blade. I staggered uneasily as I tried to grab hold of the hilt. Holden looked my way as the sound of the knife falling out of my hand caught his attention. The second he lost concentration a fist collided with the side of his head, causing him to plummet to the floor. He stood up quickly and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the pain and dizziness.

I pressed my hand to my wound, trying to stop the blood flow. I was forced to give up when the man who had stabbed me charged into me, headfirst, like a rhinoceros.

I fell back and began seeing stars, literally. I had always thought that was a myth, or at the very least an idiom. My attacker turned his back to me, assuming I was either too weak to fight or I was dead. I was in pain, but not in enough pain to be rendered useless. I reached out with a splayed palm and grabbed hold of the first object I touched: a rock. I threw it at him, half expecting it to whiz past his head, but it didn't; it hit the back of his skull hard enough to render him unconscious.

I propped myself up on my elbows and waited for Holden to immobilise the last of them. After the last guy fell, Holden walked up to each of their fallen forms and fished the keys out of their pockets. The guy with the broken arm, who was the only one still conscious, didn't even put up a fight; he practically threw the keys at Holden. By the time Holden walked up to me we had a sea of bystanders, mostly teenage girls who clapped and waved appreciatively.

Holden knelt by me and held out a hand to help me up. "I'm going to murder you," I told him, but still took the hand offered.

Holden held out the four sets of keys to me. "Take your pick."