Chapter 6
"Stay
back a little farther." He suggested, trying to ignore the severe
throbbing in his leg. There was plenty of first aid in the
back...
but that would mean stopping the car to look for it. He had a general
idea of where he kept everything... but that wasn't enough to keep up
with
the speeding Bronco. "And why are you so good at following a car
going well above the speed limit?"
"Video
games."
She lied perfectly. "Lots of late nights at the
arcade."
Too
convincing
for his taste. "How many cars can you hotwire?"
"Just
about
every kind you can imagine." She didn't bother to cover up.
"That
would
be helpful." He let his mind wander, just a little.
Anything
useful in a "just in case" situation was still useful.
She
found
the gas pedal to be quite sensative, to her delight, darting in
and
out of a little patch of traffic. "Are you going to be able to
walk
with that?"
"I
can
stumble."
"That's...
probably
not as helpful as it sounds." She gave the rear view
mirror
a quick glance to make sure no police cars were near, gunning the
engine
just a little to keep up.
He
found
her almost professional manner somewhat entertaining.
"Heh.
I'll have a nicely sized arsenal with me, I'll be just fine. But you
should stay further back."
"Don't
want
to lose him." She dismissed without eye contact.
"Don't
want
to get shot, either." He countered. One wound, in the
leg... not so bad. Not the most pleasant situation, but not as
bad
as it would be if they were both hurt.
Well...
fine,
then. She quietly took his advice, keeping her eyes on the
Bronco at all times. It would be harder, the closer they got to
the
city. And, by the traffic, they were certainly nearing it.
At first there were just speckles of cars. Then little pockets of
them, travelling together like packs.
"Now
you
can pull closer." He suggested, cars getting thicker around
them.
"Try to hide behind an SUV or something."
"Never
thought
soccer moms would actually be useful for something." She
quipped, following orders.
Rex
took
a good look around them, industrial buildings beginning to come
into
view. Catching the road sign, he nodded to himself. "We're
still on the highway outside of the main drag. This'll just take
us around the outskirts if we stay here."
She
wanted
to agree with his hope, but she stopped herself. Not that
she was much of a believer in those sorts of things, but... she'd do
all
she could to avoid jinxing herself. They continued several more
miles,
darting behind larger cars when they could, doing everything in their
power
to follow the garash yellow beast.
And
then...
it turned off. Darting across two lanes of traffic to do
so, no less. There was only a split second of decision--and Ally
reacted to the best of her ability. Giving a quick glance behind,
she sped up and turned sharply; for a moment there, she thought the
unexpected
weight of the car and momentum was going to flip them. Some kind
of luck must have been on their side, or maybe it was the turning of
the
wheel at just the right moment... no matter. She hadn't quite
made
the exit, but the exit lane was only a few yards of dirt away. It
was a bumpy ride, but she got there.
"Video
games?"
Rex challenged, as much amazed as he was scared shitless.
Hell,
she'd
surprised herself. But she had no plans to admit such a
feat.
"And an obsession with the Dukes of Hazzard."
Maybe
that
little detail could have been left unsaid. The deep chuckle
actually seemed to aggravate his gunshot wound.
She
followed
at as much of a distance as she could afford herself.
Just
a hair behind losing him at every turn, she would have made any
detective
envious. There were many times when she let her mind wander, just
a little, pondering whether or not shooting out the tires would be a
good
idea... but then, there was no better way to make tailing Nick more
obvious.
Probably not a good idea. Add to that, if they did stop him...
they'd
never find out where he was headed. Then there was the little
matter
of how he might retaliate. Not pretty pictures involved in that
thought.
It caused a shiver to crawl down her spine, a mild burst of speed
gained
in turn.
"He's
turning off again." Rex confirmed quietly, taking a look at the
general
landscape from where they held back. An industrial area.
Kind
of a torn-up, ignored road. Turning onto it, he began to realize
that the shocks on the car weren't quite as nice as he'd have liked
them
to be...
"Ever
been here before?" she questioned, trying not to snap an axel over the
increasingly large potholes. Keeping a steady gaze on the Bronco
was starting to make her seasick.
"No."
He admitted, attempting to get his bearings. He couldn't see any
of the telltale buildings of the city, so they weren't that close...
but,
they couldn't be that far, either.
Finally
the yellow monster turned into a smaller dirt road. Hands
twitching
on the wheel, Ally followed slowly. No reason to get close yet...
but by the time she'd turned onto the road herself, the Bronco was
already
parked and pretty clearly empty.
Rex
swallowed. He couldn't have gotten far... chances were, Nick had
ventured into the closest building--a warehouse? What the hell
would
he or anyone related to the Good Doctor want with a warehouse?
And
a grimy one at that. A freaking dirty ghetto warehouse that
looked
abandoned for years... Perfectly abandoned.
Movie-like.
And therefore... "Fake." He confimed, suspicion like a scent
coming
off of him.
A
deep, nervous breath. Time paused... though not for long
enough.
She looked over at the guy she'd really just met, trying to come up
with
something intelligent to say. Nothing seemed to come to mind.
He
grinned a little at her searching silence. "Well... I guess we
should
get out and take a look."
That
wasn't quite what she'd been hoping for, honestly. Not that she
would
actually disagree with the idea... except for the fact that she was
only
the least bit nervous about the entire situation. But... what the
hell. "Got a baseball bat or something?"
"I
think you can handle a little more than that." He gave her a
slightly
michevious smile a beat before indicating the area between the seats.
Well,
that was interesting as usual. She held eye contact for a quick
moment,
looking for anything terribly out of place, then followed his gaze...
ah.
The "tool box" had its own distinct resting place in a makeshift cavern
between the seats and underneath a wealth of technological-looking
"stuff".
She looked back at him for a moment before grasping hold.
"Don't
be nervous." He offered. "Can't hurt ya. Unless you
load
it, point it at yourself and shoot."
There
was a long pause before she actually decided to unlatch the lid.
"When you put it like that, I only get more curious."
Perhaps,
between them, they were just one big disaster waiting to happen.
Then again, seeing her grasp for the larger gun with an almost hidden
look
of extreme satisfaction, he was pretty damn sure that there was no
"perhaps"
about it. "That might have a little too much kick for you."
"More
my style, though." She so much as dared to twirl it around her
finger--not
quite expecting the weight and momentum, winding up with the barrel
pointing
at her head. Taking that as a sign, she wordlessly handed it
over.
How
the girl was still alive somewhat eluded him. Not that he wasn't
glad. "Try the one on your right. Not too powerful, but
enough
to drop someone."
She
slid her hand around the grip. It was surprisingly heavy for its
size, but comfortable. Easy to see exactly how a person could get
a little too easy with holding one. A deep breath... and she was
as ready as she was ever going to be.
He
opened his door, making a move to get out of the car--then winced too
hard
to deny. Dammit. He was going to have to dig the little
metal
bastard out of his leg himself if they couldn't be quick about this...
"Are
you sure you should be getting out of the car?" she prodded lightly,
trying
her damnest to seem utterly unphased.
He
looked down at his still-throbbing leg, taking the blood-soaked cloth
into
account. "What would you suggest?"
While
she wasn't entirely thrilled to throw herself out into the
open...
"I can take a look."
He
made certain, firstly, that she was serious. That much confirmed,
he nodded, his own gun safe in his grasp. "Be quick, and be
careful."
She
swallowed, giving the new weight in her hands another questioning
look.
Not bad... It felt good, but... dangerous. Not just to
everyone
else, either. Well, she could handle it. She'd have
to.
A nod, and she was off.
As
the door closed, he watched from the car. She was almost a
goddamn
natural--gun snugly in both hands as she advanced slowly, carefully,
eyes
up at all times and constantly looking. Approaching the building,
she chanced a look back; it was quick enough, but she saw Rex's
returned
gaze. Okay, well... okay. All attention on the building.
Not
that it did much good, frankly. Yes, at first she was a ball of
nerves
and adrenaline. Then she took a look at the windows... that
appeared
more than merely blacked out. They seemed to have a texture of
black
plastic to them--not really windows at all. Didn't appear to be
one-way
glass, either... odd. With one more glance at the car to be sure
nothing had gone wrong, she carefully moved around the corner of the
building
and continued.
Well,
she didn't seem to need his help all that much. And, with a
bleeding
leg and a sudden desire to get to a safer place to take a leak, he was
glad for it. One eye on the windshield and the other on his leg,
he carefully unwrapped the tight cloth for only long enough to inspect
the wound. Yes, it was a stupid move--but he was curious.
So
long as it looked clean, maybe he could hold off on the idea of getting
to a doctor. Hated those money-grubbing bastards... but beyond
that,
he didn't want to find some shitty hospital on the outside of town
where
they'd make a much longer sweep of his I.D. than they really had any
business
to. Go to some busy HMO and you don't get anything but a quick
look
and a bill; not so with one of the operations around the area...
The
sound of the car door opening very nearly sent him through the armored
roof. He expressed as much with a gasp, not exactly feeling his
heart
slow down when he saw Ally flop into the seat and close the door.
Being
pretty good at pretending that obvious things weren't actually in
existence,
she let his reaction pass by her intense sarcasm. "One
door.
And it's locked."
That
seemed... very odd. "Is that the only way in?"
She
nodded, glancing around before speaking. Damn her paranoia, but
she
felt watched. Never could be too careful with who might be behind
you. She'd seen enough movies to know. "That's it. No
other doors, no real windows. And no locks to pick,
either."
The door itself had been around the other side of the building, and she
nearly had a heart attack with the mere thought that it may open upon
another
of the Good Doctor's happy fun experimental playgrounds--having
ultimately
lucked out with noting the metal garage-style door not only to be
locked,
but looking as though there was no unlocking mechanism available from
outside.
His
eyes narrowed on the building, annoyed fingers tapping out a grating
pattern.
Well... they needed to get in there.
Ally
gazed over with a cynical expression. "And why can't we
just
blast the fucker with missiles and machine guns?"
"Here?
This might not be a real warehouse, but it is a real ghetto.
Probably
not the best way to go."
She
sighed, crossing her arms, gun still in hand, for a moment.
Indeed,
they needed in there. And knocking probably wouldn't prove to be
entirely productive. Therefore... She locked the door,
started
the engine, and carefully grasped her seatbelt. "I would suggest
buckling up for this one."
Were
she anyone else, the thought never would have crossed his mind.
But...
"You're not."
She
didn't answer.
"You're not."
He tried again, louder. It was no longer
an inquiry.
"Sorry."
She growled--right before pressing the pedal to the floor and letting
the
gearshift rip wide open.
Yes,
he could have screamed his head off, cursed her a blue streak that even
his drunk racist uncle would have blushed about... but the smarter
choice
seemed to be buckling his safety belt and holding on to the seat with
both
hands. Damn their horrifying curiosity.
Neither
the car nor the building ever saw it coming. She tore around the
side and to the hopefully standard-grade sliding door--not bothering to
brake. Instead, she drove out as far as the lot allowed, spun in
the dirt, and let the engine build to deafening proportions before--
In
training, Rex had once kind of "fallen" out of a helicopter, landing on
his back in a river. If he were to take a moment to magnify that
feeling by about thirty times, he'd be able to describe what the impact
with the door was like. It was mostly shock, though. That
absorbed
some of the more frightening feelings.
The
fact remained, as Ally all too calmly put the car in park, that they
were
inside. One stunned look around pretty much assured them that
they'd
landed in no ordinary warehouse, alright--though exactly what it was
still
eluded them. There was a set of stairs leading up... but,
strangely
enough, there was another set leading down. The inside itself
seemed
more like an office building composed of old desks, chairs, and a very
dimly lit feeling of absolutely mundane bore. At least it looked
to be abandoned.
Not
that Rex appeared to entirely care, as his driver noticed
instantly.
No, he was not... pleased at all. She hadn't seen that particular
look in a while. "It's a good car." She tried to calm him.
"It was a good
car." Calm was not a thing he felt he
would ever
see again.
Good
point. "Well, it's in car heaven now. There's no pain,
there."
Instead
of screaming, he mumbled quietly, giving the dashboard a little loving
pat before reaching over and trying to turn the key... and shocking the
hell out of both of them when the beast started without incident.
"Boy are you lucky. She survived."
Hmph.
"I think we're a little more lucky to have survived ourselves, but...
I'm
glad."
"You
don't mean that." He accused softly.
Phew.
At least he was a step above most people she'd had to deal
with...
Miracles and soforth. Though, there was one more thought in the
way...
"Now what?"
He
sighed, trying to prepare himself mentally for stairs. They were
going to really, fucking, hurt... but he wasn't about to let her go
alone.
"Up or down?"
Granted
the building was quite large from the outside, with a few stories above
them... but she just couldn't imagine anyone going up the
stairs
for any reason. Maybe it was just her, but... "Down."
Nodding,
he opened his door--with a little bit of jiggling and a slight punch to
the side. "That'd be my guess, too."
Well,
if they were idiots... they were idiots together. Tucking the gun
and keys quickly into her pocket, she rushed from the car to give him a
hand. Hey, it was the least she could do. "Are you going to
be able to handle this?"
"Eh,
can't be that bad." He lied so completely that he could almost
feel
his teeth rot.
It
was one of those moments, however, in which she refused to call him
on.
Securing the gun once again in her grasp, she decided it may be best
for
her to lead the way. For the moment. Until they ran into
trouble.
Oh
yeah, he regretted the decision with the first few steps on the flat
floor,
nevermind the actual stairs. The first step down was just about
the
worst thing he'd felt in a damn long time--not counting several zipper
incidents in his youth. Or that time when it burned after... but
nevermind. He controlled his breathing with each motion (having
seen
it done many times in the movies; and hey, if it worked for actors...),
taking
his
time but doing his best to keep up.
"I
had a thought." She announced at the bottom of the first flight
as
it paused to turn the other direction and into a second.
And
I bet it's fucking brilliant. He kept closely to
himself.
"Yes?"
She
almost grinned as she was speaking it, obviously trying to control
herself.
"What if there's an elevator?"
He...
paused. Very nearly painful in its own right. "I'm going to
pretend I didn't hear that."
Both
puzzling and amusing. "Really?"
With
a deep breath, he shook his head and started down the next flight of
stairs.
"While that would be nice..." he admitted carefully, "There are too
many
other worries. We might miss something between floors, wind up
using
an elevator that never gets used and simply handing ourselves over, or
generally just find ourselves in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Not
to mention the possibility of plummeting several floors to our
deaths.
Or be trapped, half-dead at the bottom, one of us being forced to kill
and eat the other." She added, following behind slowly.
"Avid
movie enthusiast, are you?" he grunted, trying to go on.
"You
bet." She confirmed, almost wishing she weren't. Then at
least
she wouldn't feel so damn paranoid. Truth had turned out not only
to be stranger than fiction, but stranger than science fiction, and
twice
as scary.
In
reality, there hadn't been all that much to worry about--the first door
they came to was weilded shut, and there was only one more floor below
them. It was interestingly at that point that the worry came on;
only one way left to go.
Leave
it to Ally to reach out and turn the knob before she had a chance to
talk
herself out of it. On the other side was something... totally
unexpected.
It was a basement. A basement-basement. A place of pipes
and
old equipment, one dull naked lightbulb... but there was what looked to
be a long, dark hallway on the other side.
"It
just doesn't end." Rex's less than natural optimism seemed to be
slipping.
Not
that she blamed him. "Why do I get the feeling--"
"Stop."
He called her off instantly. They really didn't need that line of
thought, even if it was a joke. "Whatever's there, can you handle
it?"
She
got the gist of what he was really asking. But... her hands were
sweating around the pistol as possibilities rushed into the forefront
of
her mind. "I don't know what to do." She meekly admitted.
He
grunted quietly, understanding. "Is there any realistic
possibility
of getting him back? And to stay that way?"
"I
don't know." She whispered, wiping each hand off on her jeans to
make sure there was absolutely no sweat between skin and gun.
"The
doctor's still alive, obviously... and his assistant, the little
prick..."
"But
is getting either of them to help you even a remote possibility?"
She
sighed, annoyed that he was indeed perfectly logical. "The
possibility
always exists. But it's slight."
"Are
you saying there is actually a chance in hell?" he dared her to
reflect on her answer.
Swallowing,
she slowly rubbed the trigger with a hair's weight, running over its
cool,
smooth surface as if it were a worry stone. "Yeah. There's
a chance. But no matter how it turns out, Doc and his band of
loonies
have to be exterminated."
He
wouldn't argue with that. "You'll have to lead."
She
nodded, needing no further encouragement. The hall was dark, and
damn right everything was creepy as hell... but that gun was almost a
security
blanket. She could believe. She would try. This was
all
for Nick, dammit... and maybe a little revenge.
There
was a strange surprise at the end of the hallway--a not so hidden,
"hidden"
door. The problem, it appeared, was that whoever had used it
before
had left a portion of it ajar, allowing just enough of a crack to see
through.
It was too much to refuse of course--and she pulled back immediately,
having
found instant paydirt. Certain it had been too dark to judge her
reaction, she stepped back and whispered, very close, "It's
Taylor."
Well,
that was nice, but... "Who?"
Ah,
yes. Right. Not knowing names and all. "The Good
Doctor's
good assistant."
He
could almost feel her coiled energy, her desire to destroy the
man...
"Well, go get him."
"Gladly."
Yes, it was foolish. It was completely stupid, let alone
destructive
on a number of levels... but she just couldn't help herself. It
took
one solid, cocky kick to slam the door open--gun pointed. She
was ready. He was clearly not. "Well, if it isn't little
Robbie."
His
back had been turned until he heard the commotion--and now that he was
faced with a gun and a completely insane former patient... the beaker
in
his hand shattered to the floor. He could recall neither her
number
nor her name, but he sure as hell remembered the broken fingers.
His mouth moved like a fish, grasping for words, thoughts, instincts.
There
was absolutely no mercy, and no patience. It wouldn't even have
mattered
had Rex not been there to have her back; she was gone.
"How
do I fix him?" she demanded.
Taylor
was terrified... but not enough. His mouth remained shut.
Until
she took aim and shot the son of a bitch's left foot off without a
second
thought, sending him to the ground on top of the glass. Oh yes,
that
got his mouth wide open, alright.
Rex
flinched with the sudden action. Even all the shit he'd seen in
specialized
training hadn't really prepared him for that reaction.
"Tell
me!" she demanded vicously.
The
doc's assistant was too busy screaming. So, she took the next
logical
step--stepping up to slam him hard across the face with a fist full of
pistol.
After
a moment of stunned silence, the pain drenched him once again, and he
squirmed
like hell. Her question came back to him, at did the fear of what
else she was capable of doing. "It c-can't be done!" he choked
out,
making a terribly sad attempt at turning over to crawl away.
"Not
good enough." She responded calmly. Taylor's other foot
exploded
in a rain of blood. It became instantly clear as he clutched at
the
nonexistant appendage that he was going to go into shock... but all in
all, she really didn't care. It was too late--the adrenaline was
just too high to think through. She hadn't the least bit of
intension
to let him live, anyway.
He
realized that in dull, and very real, terror. "It's a word
trigger!"
he gasped.
She
placed the searing hot barrel against his forehead. "You have two
seconds to give me that word."
It
was utter surrender. "Quiesco!"
That
was... unfamiliar. Was it... what... Latin? "Don't fuck
with me here."
"It's Quiesco!" his
voice cracked, the general flailing starting
to lag
just a touch.
Well,
she supposed it was worth a try. "Now. Where's your little
doctor friend?"
Apparently
there was one thing he was more afraid of than a painful
death--and
that was the Good Doctor. Yeah. No surprise. "I...I
c-can't..."
"You
have got very few seconds before I shoot your balls off, one by
one." She lowered her aim appropriately.
He
squealed in horror--but ultimately would say no more. No doubt
he'd
been conditioned... if not by what he'd seen, then certainly by
whatever
the doc had done to him personally.
"Make
your peace with god." She invited. Waiting just long enough
for the eye contact to grow a little distant, she switched her aim and
fired.
Ugh.
Rex cringed and backed away. Point-blank to the head was
extremely
messy. He wished he'd been warned. "You've got some
bloodlust
in you."
She
sighed, taking a look at her once spotless, once new clothes.
Standing,
she did what she could to "clean off", but it was hardly worth the
effort.
Sure what had just happened had really been disturbing... but she was
neither
sorry nor willing to dwell on it. "Foster homes'll do that to a
person."
Well...
he supposed so. "I am going to keep that one in mind.
But...
if I can ask, why exactly do you seem to hate him so much?"
There
wasn't really any way to describe things that wouldn't turn out
disturbingly
graphic... so she went for the gist of it. "He was every foster
home
disaster I've ever had rolled into one. That enough of an idea
for
you?"
It
took very little imagination. Taylor was no spring chicken, and
Ally
was young, attractive... "That will do."
She
nodded, for the first time pausing to take a look around the
room.
It appeared to be a very fancy storage facility mixed with some mad
sceintist
lab. No shock there. Unfortunately, there were two doors
leading
off from the room. Where either one lead... Well.
They
may not have a lot of time to catch Nick. Damn. She should
have kept that little bastard alive just a bit longer. Now what?
"Split
up." He responded to her unspoken question. He dug in his
back
pocket, producing several bullets and handing them to her. "If
either
of us get into trouble, we'll hear the shots."
Her
stomach appeared to have dropped onto the floor and proceeded to crawl
away. Yeah, they'd hear the shots, but would there be time?
Maybe it was just one of those things to ignore. The guy seemed
more
than aware of the possible consequences. "Can you manage?"
"I'll
be fine." He dismissed, just glad there'd be no more stairs for a
while... if there was a god. "And, considering you seem to have
no
issue with pulling a trigger..."
Hey,
she wasn't going to argue. "Okay. Be careful."
That
was truly laughable coming from her. "Will do."
Seeing
as how she was the one that could get around the fastest, she chose the
door. Darting to the right, she was off.
Stairs.
Not
that she minded--she was actually kind of glad that perhaps she'd
been
the one to choose stairs and maybe Rex had gotten away with not having
to climb them. Though she doubted that. Ah well.
She'd
seemed to chose the more boring route, actually. Just small,
dimly
lit concrete rooms connected to one another in threes before leading
into
a short hallway and starting all over again. Creepy, but not very
interesting. It smelled of wetness, mould, and several horrible
sheds
and back rooms. It was cold, it was getting annoying to hear her
every footstep echoed, and she seriously began to wonder if she would
hear a gunshot...
--Wait.
That'd been a sound. A definite sound, and one she hadn't
made.
She spun around to take a look... finding nothing. Eyes
narrowing,
she looked back to where she was going... and slowly continued.
There
really was no chance. The darkness mixed with the absolute
surprise
of the situation would have been plenty to render her too shocked to
move
once she'd been jumped--but the impact of the jump had knocked the air
out of her, very nearly pushing her over the edge of
consciousness.
When her vision blinked back into being, she wished it hadn't.
No
mistaking those teeth... and those eyes held insanity the likes of
which
she never imagined possible. Too close, held down by his weight
and
aware only of the fear racing through her, the gun long since having
skittered
across the floor due to having nearly passed out. She coughed,
gasping,
trying to get enough breath to speak but feeling only pain clamp her
chest.
The
monster in Nick's body bore down on her with its horrible grin.
There
was something in his hand--
Fear
seemed like a pebble compared to the boulder of emotion racing through
her. A knife. An insane man with a knife. She
coughed,
searching for thoughts, for words... "Nick, stop." She
pleaded
quietly. "Nick... it's Ally. Ally, remember? You
rescued
me. And gave me money for clothes."
There
was no response. She may as well have announced that her
mother
was an Indonesian ox for all the attention paid. He seemed far
more
interested in the shining blade, turning it slowly and gazing at the
surface.
Raw
animal panic threatened to destroy her ability to think.
"Waffles!"
It seemed the only word that would save her--ultimately giving her a
memory
and a purpose to hold onto. "Remember the waffles? Quiesco,
Nick!
Quiesco! Come on!"
The
word itself seemed to be a mistake. Instead of ignoring her, the
eyes bore into her as if noticing her for the first time. The
motions
felt almost playful, but the undertones were... so far from it.
The
blade pressed against her throat only heavily enough for her to
unquestionably experience the razor edge.
Well,
that was a new sensation, alright. Nearly in a surprising way
considering
all the shit she'd pulled. This was not a way she wanted to
die...
The blade was so tight against the flesh that swallowing would have
split
it open, not to even think of mentioning the supposed word trigger
again...
She closed her eyes to try and gain some sense of calm, of
clarity--and,
just like that, the blade lifted. A strange thing... since her
eyes
had closed, she'd found no desire to open them. And that hadn't
changed
with the lifting of the blade. Not even when she felt shifting
above,
heard small sounds, felt an odd heat source against her clothes...
"Ally."
The voice was... grinding... but... it was... so strangely
human...
She finally opened her eyes and saw why with an incredibly
gut-churning
shock--he'd used the knife on his own throat. Not to slit it, but
to cut out the device that was making his voice sound inhuman in the
first
place. The blood was so thick, it's warmth spreading over her as
it fell... and she smelled it. She'd always thought
people
that spoke of the choking scent of blood were just being overdramatic,
but... not so. How could he not be trembling from the pain..?
Ah,
easily. His eyes weren't... they weren't there. He wasn't
entirely...
aware. She flashed back to that moment when she had to run from
the
house, how dead his eyes had become... and while they held more life to
them as she gazed up in fear, they still weren't quite the calm blue
she
remembered.
"Y-yes..."
She forced herself to find her voice. If she could keep him
there,
calm him... maybe he could get himself out of the mess before he went
into
shock... or worse... "Nick, it's Ally. You remember?"
He
tilted his head like a mechanical puppet, wound pulsing even more
heavily
with blood, eyes wide but seemingly sightless. "Yes." He
croaked,
turning the knife in his hand slowly, only half aware of it.
She
spoke with great care, keeping her gaze on his eyes for any change at
all.
"Nick... you have to snap out of it. You have to go get
stitches.
You're hurt."
He
surprised her in the worst kind of way--driving the knife in his hand
straight
through her left shoulder and into the floor below. It didn't
immediately
hit her, the scope of what had happened, until she realized with a
heavy
dread that the high keening she was hearing was her own.
Questions,
demands, hurt words didn't even form in her mind over the sudden
drowning
pain that shut down all thought.
"Ally..."
she barely heard again, just a whisper. In one sleek motion, he
pulled
the knife from her and placed it almost delicately at her side,
illiciting
yet another gurgling cry. He pressed a hand against the wound
like
a faith healer, pushing down and making it throb even more. All
her
thrashing against him seemed like nothing, useless. "Ally...
relax,
Ally..."
Tears
were streaming from her eyes in direct response to the pain--but she
could
make out the gleam as he poised the knife over her again. There
wasn't
even time for fear to encompass her; he merely stabbed the already
wounded
shoulder once more... only this time, there was a distinct barrier
preventing
the blade from going all the way through.
Even
with the agony clouding her, her eyes opened with understanding.
Something... had been implanted in her shoulder. Though... this
was not the way to take care of that...
"Get,
the fuck, off of her, now." Rex's voice--a split second before
firing
a warning shot over Nick's head.
Bad
timing, bad timing. "Don't shoot, Rex." She shivered
with
the pain even as she said it... her words seemed so ludicrous.
She
was
laying there, with a knife in her shoulder, a psycho holding her
down, and an ex-Marine with what she was kinda sure was a little bit of
a crazy streak, ready to blow someone's head off. Nope, never
thought
that'd be what her life was to become.
Nick
didn't even turn his head at the sounds. Like a machine, he needed
to carry the operation out until the end.
The
viciously moaning cry was absolutely not able to be held back as Nick dug
with the blade, getting the small device to the surface. Tiny in
structure, maybe--but god, damn, did it hurt to be removed.
Rex
swallowed, the gun in his grasp quivering just the slightest bit.
Only moment ago he'd left Ally to her own self-assured devices, to be
taken
down by this... abomination in a human shell...
When
the implant was finally freed from her flesh, she gasped with a hopeful
release. It hurt, it still damn well hurt... but she
hoped
it was over. Oh, god, it had to be over... She let her head
fall to the side, not willing to gaze at the empty eyes for fear they'd
remain that way... She chose to try to focus on exactly how
the implant had gotten there in the first place. She must have
been
drugged in her sleep at the Hotel Loony or something. Didn't seem
terribly possible, considering the little she slept... but then, just
who
the hell knew what went on in there.
A
silent, delayed trigger snapped somewhere in Nick's mind. He
blinked,
wincing... blinking again, rapidly, as if just waking up from a
trance.
"Ally..." the knife slid from his hands--hands suddenly pressed over
his
mouth in shock and grief, smearing their combined blood over his
face.
"Oh, god..." He reached out to touch her, to offer her comfort...
but he just couldn't do it. He was so afraid he'd hurt her
again...
He jerked back and away, leaving her laying alone and covered in blood
on the concrete floor.
It
was then that his own pain struck, his throat ignited in a throbbing
fire.
He gasped, but it only served to burn more vividly, his hand finding
the
wound--then pulling away in fear and disgust. What... the hell..?
Rex
remained silent... save a quiet sigh as he tucked the gun into his
pants.
Well now. Wasn't everything just fucked all to peachy. He
wasn't
certain about any aspect of what had just happened... but it didn't
exactly
matter. He tugged the other sleeve from his workshirt with one
annoyed
motion, then carefully began to pull Nick's hands away so he could try
to wrap the wound without cutting off his air.
As
for Nick, the continued shock, confusion and pain pretty much prevented
him from doing much more than going along with the idea, even when the
fabric tight along his throat burned and made it hard to breathe.
The past few hours seemed to come through in a slow, blurry dream...
bits
and pieces, and not in first-person. Just some... awful nightmare
that seemed like it should be better off forgotten.
That
much done, Rex turned to Ally. "I don't have much clean shirt
left."
She
was pressing a hand against her bleeding shoulder, trying not to
whimper.
"S'okay." She rasped. "Use mine. Belly shirts are in,
anyway."
He
nodded with a swallow, kneeling very carefully in front of her.
Taking
the tiny fold-out knife on his keychain, he cut up the side seam and
over,
half cutting and half tearing his way all the way around until he had a
nice long strip of the shirt. That in hand, he wrapped it twice
around
her shoulder and pulled it tightly.
That
got a shrill burst of sound. She tried to bite it back, but she
hadn't
known just how strong the pain would be. She held her
wounded
arm, folded into her gut, trying to take her mind off of the unreal
feeling
of being stabbed. All those books, every movie she'd ever
watched...
were no preparation for the real thing.
Nick
watched, wide-eyed. It made him forget about his own pain, if
only
for a moment... He'd done that. He, had done
that, to her. How... could he ever..?
Rex
grunted, his own wound causing a cold shard to rip into his stomach as
he tried to get up under his own power. What a piece of work they
were.
Still
shivering from the pain and the added unpleasant sensations of the
situation,
Ally's gaze floated to familiar blue eyes--only, this time they were
clouded
with unspeakable anguish. "Hey." She tried, surprising
herself
by how tired her voice sounded.
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