The lights of the ambulance flash red and white across Jasper's face as we watch Troy being lifted inside.
I can tell from the way Jasper is clenching his jaw that he thinks we've already waited too long.
"Let's go, I'll get you home," he says, when the ambulance has pulled away. He starts marching to his car and I have to jog to catch up.
"What?! No, I'm coming with you!"
Jasper stops at his door and stares across the metallic roof.
"This isn't up for discussion."
"She's my friend too," I say as sternly as I can muster.
Jasper sighs audibly, the sound becoming a growl as he rolls his head on his shoulders.
"You have no idea how dangerous rogues are."
"Yes, I do," I say. "Remember the time I had one attached to my shoulder."
He smacks his hands on the roof of the car and I swear he makes a dent in it. "Aisha is out there and she is in real danger! I don't have time for this!"
"Exactly," I say. "If you drive me all the way home it's only going to waste more time."
Jasper huffs angrily but he knows I'm right.
"Fine," he says through his teeth. "Get in."
I don't wait a nano-second. I open the car door and slip into my seat, fastening a seatbelt before Jasper can even get the keys in the ignition.
I glance at him, hoping he's seen just how fast I'm being, how serious I'm taking things. He rolls his eyes and hits the accelerator.
"Um, where are we actually going?" I say once the city is behind us.
We've merged onto the highway heading west, and I suddenly realize I have no idea what Jasper's plan is.
"Just outside of Pittsburgh, there's an abandoned industrial complex, old factories, and warehouses that went out of business in the 80s. It's basically a wasteland now, but rogues like to hang out there."
"Pittsburgh?!"
Jasper's eyes remain on the road, but I can see the fury lurking behind them.
"How do you know the rogues who took Aisha will be there?"
"After they took over the place they set up a make-shift town. They call it Rogue City. It's become a mecca for rogues from all over the country.
It's like their state capital or something."
I try to swallow the tennis ball-sized lump that has formed in my throat. One rogue was scary enough. Let alone an entire city full of them.
"But I thought rogues were loners? Isn't that why they're rogues?"
"Rogues are wolves who've lost their packs. That loss makes them unstable, but they're still wolves. They still crave community the same way we do."
Jasper's knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel harder.
"Their idea of community is just more like a cage fighting ring."
I shrink into my chair as I imagine what this criminal hive must look like and start to regret forcing Jasper to bring me along.
"And the tattoo?" I ask quietly, unsure if what I want is any more exposition.
"It's the insignia of a particularly violent sect of rogues. Wolves wear that tattoo to let others know where they stand."
"Where do they stand?"
"Against us. Against my father and the whole pack system."
"Right. So it's sort of like an identifier. Kind of like how all the wolves of the Elite Pack have a similar scent?" I ask.
Jasper looks at me sideways.
"No," he mutters. "They're nothing like us."
"So that's why you think Aisha is there?"
"It's how I know."
Jasper presses down harder on the accelerator and for a second I think the car is about to take off.
A couple of hours later we leave the highway.
"Where are we going now?" I ask.
"It's a short cut."
We end up on a long gravel path with no street lights. Fields of dust stretch out into the darkness on either side of us.
I'm glad that we've finally slowed down a little, but I catch Jasper yawning out of the corner of my eye.
"I think I see some lights up ahead," I say, peering past the blare of the headlights. "There might be a diner or something we can stop at for coffee."
"We don't have time to stop."
Pressing my forehead against the window, I stare longingly as a diner comes and goes. For another twenty minutes we drive in silence.
Then all of a sudden two pinpricks of light appear up ahead.
Headlights!
I shudder a little as my mind starts playing tricks on me, making me imagine all sorts of scenarios in which the rogues know we're coming and have waited until we're alone out here to play a deadly game of chicken.
The lights become brighter and we start drifting across the centerline. The vehicle ahead comes into view. It's a truck the size of Megatron and it's barrelling right at us!
The blare of the horn sounds, and I glance over at Jasper whose eyes are closed. He's asleep!
"Jasper!" I shove him and put one hand on the wheel to try and steer us away.
He wakes up, blinking, and quickly realizes the immediate danger we're in. He spins the steering wheel hard to the right.
With just an inch of grace, we avoid a major collision. Megatron blasts past us, sending out shockwaves in his wake. Our tires screech, filling the cabin with the smell of burning rubber, as the car spins.
We whirl off the road, careening off the tarmac.
I clutch the dashboard as Jasper holds the wheel, trying to regain control.
In a cloud of dust and dirt, we finally skid to a stop. For a moment I remain frozen, unable to catch my breath, worried I may have a heart attack at the ripe age of sixteen.
"Are you okay?" Jasper asks, breathless.
I'm too in shock to reply.
"Are you hurt?!" he asks again, firmer this time.
"Yeah, I'm, I'm fine," I stammer.
"I must have let my eyes close for just a second and…" Jasper is still gripping the wheel, the muscles in his arms are rock solid.
"Hey, it's okay," I say, trying to calm him down. "I'm fine."
His chest is heaving up and down and there's a red flush to his face that I've never seen before.
"I'm...I'm sorry," he says, without looking at me.
"It's okay."
"No, it was too close. Too close."
Jasper's eyes glaze over as if he's playing a memory over in his brain.
I wonder...
This one day when I was a kid my dad took me skating at an ice rink. I was wearing red mittens that Mom had knitted for me for Christmas and I was out on the ice turning in circles trying to get my dad's attention.
He was reading a paper and not watching my amazing moves.
Suddenly he dropped his paper and stood up, with this look of horror on his face. I will always remember that look. And then I felt it.
A shadow coming to rest on my shoulders like a coat of grief. I burst into tears in the middle of the ice.
Someone, I don't remember who, helped me off the rink and my dad took me into his arms. I looked down at the paper he had been reading and saw a black and white photo of a car crash.
The title read "New York Socialite and Philanthropist Mitsuha Apollo Dies in Car Accident."
That was the day the pack lost their Luna and the day Jasper lost his mom. I can still feel the communal grief we experienced as a pack. I can't imagine how Jasper must have felt.
I wonder if he's thinking about that car accident now that we just avoided one of our own.
We sit in the car for a few minutes. I don't say anything and Jasper doesn't let go of the steering wheel.
Eventually, taking deep breaths, I reach out and put my hand on Jasper's arm. He flinches at my touch but doesn't pull away.
"Jasper, it's alright. I'm okay. We're okay."
Slowly, he unclenches his fists and releases the steering wheel.
I spot a single tear running down Jasper's cheek as he places his hands on his knees.
Then he turns to me and says again, "I'm sorry."
I smile back.
"No harm done," I say, shrugging, desperately uncomfortable and doing my darndest to lighten the mood. "But maybe we should think about finding somewhere to stay for the night? You're exhausted."
Jasper looks around as if he's considering his options and then straightens his jaw.
"No, we can't stop, Aisha needs us." He turns the key in the ignition and the car roars to life. I wipe my face with my hands as he presses down on the accelerator, and then something beneath us pops.
Both of us jump out of the car and I run around to Jasper's side to find him staring at a deflated tire.
"Do you have a spare?" I ask tentatively.
"Damnit!" Jasper shouts and kicks the ground.
I'll take that as a 'no'.
Pressing his hands to the side of his head as if he's trying to keep his brain from flying out his ears, Jasper groans and walks off across the field.
I chase after him, grabbing him by the arm and spinning him around.
"Jasper, it's going to be okay, look," I say, pointing toward the horizon where another small bundle of lights indicate life. "We can walk down there. Maybe there's a motel or something and we can…" "It's not going to be okay!" Jasper says. "Don't you get it? They've taken her. They've taken Aisha."
He stares at me with fierce desperation in his eyes and I know exactly what he means. They've taken Aisha. She's not just the coolest person and the best ballet dancer in the world, she's also the most understanding, caring, and empathetic person I've ever met.
She's the only person Jasper told about me and him, which means she's the only person in the world who he can talk to.
She's the only person in his world.
"Jasper," I say, staring back at him. "I understand. I know how important she is. But…" I wrack my brain, trying to think of anything that might help. But the truth is Jasper is right. We can't wait. Aisha is in the hands of some seriously nasty wolves and any time we waste is more time she remains their prisoner...or worse.
But Jasper is about ready to collapse. His eyes are encircled with dark rings. His shoulders are hunched over. His hands are shaking.
We can't keep driving, let alone infiltrate a hive of rogues, not with Jasper in this state. We'll both end up dead.
We need to rest and we need to fix the car, which means I need to do something to show Jasper that a few more hours isn't going to be the difference between life and death.
"What was that you said to me back at my place?" I ask, a few pieces falling into place in my mind.
"What are you talking––?"
"You said that you could tell Aisha was in trouble because you have some, some kind of connection to her? You said you could sense when something wasn't right."
"Yeah," he says, tilting his head forward.
"So, do that now. Reach out to her and see if she's okay."
"Max, it doesn't work like that, I…" "Just shut up and do it," I say, surprising both of us with my tone.
"Just...give it a shot."
"Fine," he huffs. He backs up and looks around, pacing in a little circle until he's found a good spot to sit. Crossing his legs so that his feet are resting on top of his knees, he takes a breath and closes his eyes.
I watch as he steadies his breathing. In and out. In and out.
I study the tranquil, focused look on his face.
For a moment I feel like I can sense the movement of the stars above me, feel them circling in a wide arch above my head.
A cool wind blows through the dry grass.
"She's alive," Jasper says. He's opened his eyes and his body is less tense than before. He sounds relieved.
"Is she..?"
"I can't tell much," he says, standing. "But she's alive and she doesn't seem injured."
"Well, that's amazing," I say.
"She's still the captive of a bunch of rogues."
"Yeah, of course," I say, rubbing the back of my neck.
"But if they haven't hurt her yet, they probably have a reason not to."
"What are you thinking?"
Jasper is staring ahead at the cluster of lights.
"Most likely they're using her to get to me," he says. "Maybe as a way to hurt my father. Or maybe as revenge."
"For what?"
"For their comrade whose arm I ripped off at the festival."
"Oh." I remember seeing it––the bloody hole where the rogue's arm should have been––and start to feel the chill of guilt trickle down my spine.
If they want to get back at Jasper for what he did, then I'm partly responsible for Aisha's abduction as well. If it weren't for me Jasper might not have had to fight the rogue invader.
I think Jasper notices my face drop because he swiftly changes the subject.
"Anyway, you're right. We can't go anywhere tonight. We should see if there's somewhere we can sleep up ahead."
Jasper heads back to the car and grabs a couple of things from his glove compartment.
"Come on." He waves to me as he starts walking along the side of the road toward the lights.
I jog to catch up with him.
We walk in silence, with only the buzz of cicadas for company, until we reach the little township.
It's dead quiet and my goosebumps are out of control. I feel like we've wandered into a scene from The Walking Dead.
"There," Jasper says, pointing to a motel sign up ahead.
A bell jingles as we push through the screen door into the reception and I feel like we're walking into a timewarp. The place hasn't been updated since the 70s. Norman Bates and his mother are probably knocking about somewhere.
In a moment, an unexpectedly friendly looking woman, with curly grey hair, wearing a pink-woolen sweater enters through a door behind the desk, holding a cup of coffee and a TV remote.
"You boys, okay?" she asks, giving us a suspicious but mostly concerned look.
"One of my tires exploded a little way back down the road and we were hoping you might have a room for the night."
"Oh, that's awful," she says, plunking down her coffee and the remote. She opens a drawer and I'm relieved when she fishes out a key, attached to a large green plastic triangle. "You're in luck because I've just got the one room left. But you're welcome to it."
"Thank you," Jasper says, pulling out a slim leather wallet and taking out a silver credit card.
"My husband can probably fix that tire of yours in the morning too.
What kind of car was it?"
Once Jasper has explained where the car is and paid for our room, the pink-sweater lady tells us she'll get her husband on it first thing, then wishes us good night.
Relief floods my body as we walk down the line of doors to our room. Jasper slides the key in the lock and I follow him inside.
I flick on the light and we both stop short, our mouths gaping open in terror at the sight before us.
"There's...there's only one bed."