**Arun's POV**
We were still here in our hotel in New York, where everybody was in an agony of terror; Jay was sitting on the couch, hands clasped together as his knees bounce swiftly, showing just exactly how nervous he was. While the others just paced around the living room with dark bags under our eyes and uncombed hair, obviously stressed out about the ransom.
Jay was the most affected among all of us for he was the one who spoke with the kidnappers. He was worried that they might be dead by now and he was blaming Richard for involving the police. We were not sure what the police officers plans were, but we were most certainly hoping for Michael and Andria's safety.
Officer Logan entered the room, the same man we talked to about Michael and Andria's situation. Anxiousness spread across his features as he entered, but I could still see the remaining tiny hope that he had been clinging to. We all stopped pacing as our heads snapped up to face him.
"What happened? Please tell us they're fine." Richard asks nervously.
"Luckily, one of our assets took notice of a suspicious looking man loitering around the area. And she placed a tracking device on him." We all gasped at the new information.
"But..." he walks towards the couch and sat on it. Us, just stared at his every movement with our troubled faces.
Well, as always... good news are followed by a bad news.
"The tracking device was removed along the same exact location where they went which is Morgan Hill. I don't understand how they knew our plan." He removed his hat and rubbed on his temple. His next words must be worse.
"Someone must've spied on our latest files and got curious about the bunch of hunters and search parties that news had reached the media."
"Oh shit..." Jimmy muttered.
Richard made his way to the LCD screen and opened the news.
I didn't want to hear the news on the TV screen but I just couldn't help but steal a few glances though it made me more anxious. The New York State police that designated a Rally Point Michael and Rally Point Andria, search-parties very much like the ones you saw on some movies came back after their first fruitless sallies; outside the police station, news vans from three TV stations were parked.
"We are doing our best, and I believe we are close. In fact, three dozen experienced woodsmen and some were accompanied by dogs remained in the forests of Morgan Hill. The consensus among those remaining in the woods was that Michael Roy and Andria Roberts must still be in Morgan Hill."
I didn't know if it was a good thing that more people might actually help us find them, but I was so sure that if the kidnappers found out about the media... they would not like it.
********
**Andria's POV**
I fought my way through tangle of trees growing so close together they were almost intertwined and came out in a little crescent of clearing. It was hemmed in on all sides by bushes and raggedy clumps of trees that looks like a little patch of Eden. There was even a fallen tree trunk for a bench. I went to it, sat down, closed my eyes, and tried to pray for rescue. Asking God to stop the rain from falling so hard, praying for it would have been easy because it had been unthinking. Now, however, praying was hard. Neither of my parents were churchgoers-my Mom was a lapsed Catholic, and my Dad, so far as I know, had never had anything to lapse from-and now I was lost and without vocabulary in another way. I prayed the Our Father and it came out of my mouth sounding flat and uncomforting, about as useful as an electric can-opener would have been out there. I opened my eyes and looked around the little clearing, seeing all too well how gray the air was becoming, I clasped my scratched hands nervously together as I shook my head in dismay about my family lacking of faith with God. Now, sitting on a fallen trunk on this cloudy, buggy June dusk, a frightening idea bloomed: what if this was all a test? To wake me up and to teach me to thank him for all the luck I have received. To ask for forgiveness of all that I've done wrong because I will definitely going to need a little God to get me through this.
I really should be thankful for all that; he gave me, for all the persons that have been here for me. For my success, for my friends and for Michael that has loved me. Moreover, I was very lucky to have him and having him is more than enough for me. He's funny and understanding, through all my negative attitudes and tantrums, ha! I'm twenty two and I still have tantrums. I remember him laughing with me when I told him I have a crush on Jay and I really loved his guitar playing hands.
**Flashback**
"How do you feel now about the release of your new album? You guys have been very nervous about the changes in your songs." I asked him as we licked on our ice cream on a cone one night when I saw him walking alone and sort of drunk.
"Hmm. It went pretty well so, I guess there's nothing to be worried about. All The songs are on us." He said with a goofy grin spread across his face.
I just nodded, not knowing exactly what it was but I just didn't want him to stop and explain. I didn't want him to teach me, not today; today I only wanted to learn from him.
"I think there's a force that keeps drunken teenagers - most drunken teenagers - from crashing their cars when they're coming home from the senior prom or their first big rock concert. That keeps most planes from crashing even when something goes wrong. Not all, just most. Hey, the fact that no one's used a nuclear weapon on actual living people since 1945 suggests there has to be something on our side. Sooner or later someone will, of course, but over half a century ... that's a long time."
He had paused, looking out at those people walking in the street in their different facial expressions.
"There's something that keeps most of us from dying in our sleep. I don't know what they are, angels? Gods? I don't think an evidence supports that, but a force."
"The Good Forces." I said, nodding slowly.
"You got it."
I got it but not actually liked it for I think everything is just coincidental and accidents happens all the time. "Do you believe in anything else?" I asked again, just enjoying how he explains things.
"Oh, the usual. Death and taxes and that you're the most beautiful girl in the world."
"Michael." I laughed and wriggled as he hugged and kissed the top of my head, liking his touch and his kiss but not the smell of beer on his breath.
He let go of me and stood up. "I also believe it's beer o'clock. You want some iced tea?"
"No, thanks," I said, and perhaps something prescient had been at work, because as he started to walk away I asked again. "Do you believe in anything else? Seriously."
His smile had faded into a look of seriousness. He stood there thinking, his ice cream starting to drip over his hand now. Then he had looked up, smiling again. "I believe you when you said you have a crush on Jay" he said. "when you said that his music was soft and heavenly each time he plays the guitar and I believe he's a great guy and I won't feel bad if you liked him better than me. Is that enough for you?"
"Michael!" I playfully slapped his shoulder, laughing at my seriousness broken ... because Jay really was my crush earlier, and I appreciated it for him knowing it and for being sweet about it instead of mean and jealous. I hugged him, getting ice cream on our shirts and not caring at all. We just laughed.
**Flashback Ends**
And now, sitting here in the growing grayness, listening to the drip of water all around me in the woods, watching the trees blur into shapes which would soon become threatening, listening for amplified shouts of police officers searching for us or distant barking of dogs, I thought I couldn't pray to the Good Forces right now. I just couldn't. I was just missing Michael so much and I was worried about him. I missed the boys. I was missing the thousands of screaming fans after every performance. I could not bear to exchange those thousands of screaming voices for the low hum of mosquitoes (thicker than ever as dusk advanced), the drip of rainwater from the leaves, the rusty rick-rick of the crickets ... and what other sounds there might be.
It was the other sounds I was beginning to be terrified of.
Other sounds in the dark.
Something was out there. Waiting for a chance to feast on your meat.
I covered my face with the palm of my hands as I felt my tears spill from my eyes and I felt the small thing dangling on my wrist. It was the bracelet that Michael gave me.
'whenever I'm not around, think of this as my representative' his words echoed my mind, removing the previous thoughts that might be a sign of insanity. I ran my thumb through the tiny jewel in the middle, closing my eyes and trying to imagine the word 'here' that is carved in the middle. "I love you, Michael." I whispered through the cold wind, hoping it would send the message through his ears. I hoped he's alright. In my mind, he was standing by the fallen tree with his loving beautiful eyes staring at me and a sweet smile. Without any bruises, without any cuts.
As I opened my eyes, I felt like a different person. My wound didn't feel like a thousand needles inside my skin, they were almost numb though it is still swollen, with red and purple marks around it. And as I lifted my gaze, he was there... Michael. Standing by the fallen tree, with his loving beautiful eyes staring at me and a sweet smile. Without any bruises and cuts.
I stood up, seeing the sun peek through the tree tops. Knowing Michael will be with me as I find my way through the woods.....