The Code Of The Alpha

And yet there I was: jogging through a similar neighborhood, all the while knowing I would return to the biggest house of them all.

Before I knew it, I had become lost in my daydreams and also in reality. I stopped running when I realized that I no longer recognized where I was. Feeling a little uneasy, I turned and began to run back the way I had come from.

It wasn’t long before I came to an intersection that I didn’t remember.

Did I turn the corner down this road or did I cross the street?

As I stood there deliberating on which direction to take, I felt a raindrop fall against my cheek. I wiped it away and sighed, feeling more begin to fall on my shoulders and face. Hearing a car approach, I looked up to see a old, green pickup truck driving along the road intersecting the one I was on.

I waved at the driver and the truck began to slow. I smiled as he rolled down his window.

“Hi,” I said awkwardly.

“I’m a little lost. Could you tell me how to get back to the other side of the pack, where the training fields

are? ”

His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“I just moved here,” I explained quickly.

“I’m not really familiar with the neighborhoods.”

He rolled his eyes and pointed at the road in front of him.

“You’ll go this way for about a mile and turn left on the first street you come across. That road will lead you to the training fields.”

As he was saying this, I caught sight of a young woman sitting in the passenger seat of his truck. She leaned forward slightly, eyes wide with fear.

‘Help me,’ she mouthed.

I felt my heart drop to my feet.

“Hello?” The man’s voice pulled me from my shock.

“Thank you. I’ll try to keep track of directions next time,” I stuttered out.

He grunted and shook his head before rolling the window back up and continuing on his way. As I oriented my body towards the road he was traveling,

I felt myself begin to panic.

Did I really just see that? Was that really what she was trying to say? What am I supposed to do?

I didn’t have my phone. The truck was too far away for me to read the license plate.

Almost instinctively, I began to run.

Towards the truck.

What the hell are you going to do? Follow him? And what will you do when you get where he is going? I asked myself.

I tried to think of a reasonable alternative, but my mind was racing too quickly for me to contemplate each thought.

So I kept running.

Thankfully, the road was long and the truck drove at a leisurely speed. My heart was racing in my chest.

My legs were burning.

I was out of breath to the point that I was growing dizzy. The rain had begun to fall heavier. I was nearly soaked and I had to blink rapidly to keep the water from falling into my eyes.

After a few minutes, I knew I had long since passed the turn that the trucker had told me to make. I could only hope he didn’t look in his rearview mirror and see my idiot self chasing him.

Just when I was about to give up out of pure exhaustion, the truck turned into the driveway of a modest ranch-style home. I immediately stopped running and began to walk slowly, still hoping I was far enough behind that he wouldn’t see me.

Breathing deeply, trying to catch my breath, I walked towards the house cautiously.

Yeah? Now what are you going to do? I asked myself.

You followed him.

You kept up. Congratulations.

Now turn around and go home.

Despite my best attempts to reason with myself, I kept walking towards the house-moving quicker when he pulled the truck into a garage and closed the door behind him.

There were no houses in the nearby area, just trees. I walked off the road in favor of their cover. Trying my best to formulate a plan quickly, I walked slowly towards the house from the side.

Do I knock on the door and ask him for the street name again? Do I make up another story? Do I confront him directly? All these thoughts were racing through my mind as quickly as my heart was pounding against my chest.

Before I knew it, I was walking along the path towards the front porch. All of the curtains were drawn over the windows, so I knew he couldn’t see me.

I found myself standing on the porch, standing directly in front of the front door.

What do I do?

I reached out and rang the doorbell.

You idiot, not that!

I felt the air leave my body when the front door swung open to reveal a furious-looking man, the same one who had been driving the truck.

“What the fuck do you want?!” He yelled.

“I was wondering… um, if maybe you could give me a ride home? It’s raining kind of hard now and I didn’t want to be caught out in it.”

The space between his eyebrows creased as he looked at me with an incredulous expression. Before he could say anything further, I caught sight of movement behind him and made eye contact with the same girl as before.

He followed my gaze and turned to look back at her, putting the pieces together.

“You bitch…”

Suddenly, he turned back to me and lunged forward.

Thankfully, my reflexes worked much quicker than my brain. With trained speed, I reached up and nailed the guy on his left cheekbone with my fist.

I immediately felt the pain shoot up my right hand from my knuckles. It was then that I remembered Fallon’s words: “If you can, try not to strike with your knuckles. If you break your fist on the first bastard, you can’t use it on the second one.”

Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be a second bastard.

Unfortunately, the first one, although dazed, was still standing. I used his moment of weakness against him and kicked him in the groin, wrapping both hands around his neck when he doubled over and pulling his head down onto my knee I not only heard the ‘crack’ as his nose broke, I felt it.

Stunned, I watched him hit the floor before I looked up to see the girl standing there, just as shocked as I was.

“Hurry up, we’ve got to leave,” I said quickly.

I looked down to where the man was laying on the porch, groaning in pain and I kicked him again, this time in the stomach

“There’s more.” she said frantically.

“Of you or him?”

“There are more girls.”

“Here?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Hurry up and go get them,” I told her.

Why was she still just standing there?

“Where are they?” I asked her, seeing as she wasn’t moving quick enough.

She swallowed the knot in her throat and gestured out the front door.

“Outside?” I asked.

“In the cellar…”Exclusive © content by N(ô)ve/l/Drama.Org.

I left the porch quickly and ran through the rain, around the house and back to the side where I remembered seeing the cellar doors.

They were padlocked shut.

Groaning in annoyance, I took the shovel that was leaning against the house and began to hit the lock as hard as I could.

My right hand was throbbing, I couldn’t even grip the handle with it.

“Where’s the damn key?!” I shouted, throwing the shovel to the side when it wasn’t working.

“It’s right here.”

The girl came around the corner, fumbling with a small carabiner hook that had several keys attached.

“Th-they were on his jeans,” she stuttered out as I took them from her.

Trying each one, I sighed in relief when one of them turned the lock. I pulled it off and opened the cellar doors with as much strength as I could muster.

The girl descended the staircase into the cellar, yelling for the others. Just as I was about to follow her, I looked up to see the battered trucker stagger around the corner of the house, his hand cradling his nose.

He bellowed in anger and picked up the shovel that I had previously tossed to the side.

As he was swinging it in my direction, I backed away, narrowly dodging the first blow. I stumbled backwards, losing my balance and falling on my butt.

The man stood over me and swung the shovel over his head once more. The blow, while anticipated, never came. A figure stepped in front of me and took the brunt of the force.

I looked up to see Luca.

He grabbed the wooden shaft of the shovel and ripped it from the hands of my attacker. In one swift movement, Luca cranked the side of the guy’s head

with the iron grip on the other end of the shovel. My attacker fumbled backwards and Luca tossed the shovel to the side, stalking after him slowly.

Just as Luca had pulled him from the ground by his shirt collar, almost a half-dozen young girls emerged from the cellar.

It didn’t take long for Luca to realize what had happened. He snapped the man’s neck without so much as second thought and let his body crumble to the ground beneath him.

All of us stood there, staring at the now-lifeless body laying in the mud. Luca pulled a phone from his pocket, rain rolling down his face.

“I found her exactly where you said she’d be. I need a disposal team here immediately. Also, send for Robert and Matt. Let them know she found the girls they’ve been looking for.”

With that said, Luca hung up the phone and put it back into his pocket. He turned to me and I gulped, seeing his eyes narrow. I picked myself up off the ground, my legs shaking from equal parts exhaustion and adrenaline.

I ignored Luca’s hard stare, walking past him to attend to the six girls who stood behind him in the pouring rain.

It wasn’t long before I saw Bates’ red Jeep pull into the gravel driveway, followed by a black Yukon. Blaine got out of the Suv, followed by both Robert and Matt, who ran over to us quickly.

They began to attend to each girl, giving them phones to call their parents and checking to see if anyone was injured. I backed away, not feeling needed any longer. When I ran into a hard chest, I turned to see Luca glaring down at me.

This oughta be good, I thought.

Luca surprised me by leaning down and picking me up. As he walked away, towards his black truck that I then realized was parked down by the trees on the side of the road, he stopped and spoke to both Bates and Blaine.

“Neither one of you are going home tonight until you make sure Matt and Robert have each of these girls home. Clear?”

They both nodded, Bates looking at me sympathetically as I was slung over Luca’s shoulder.

“Good luck.” he mouthed as I was carried away.

Good luck, indeed.