Lost Voices

It was black.

Not just dark, but completely black. A suffocating blanket of total blackness wrapped completely around him. The air smelled faintly damp, and from somewhere, he could hear the faint sound of water dripping onto stone. He sat up, slowly, to avoid jarring his injured left side. But even that simple action left him weak and breathless from the pain shooting up from his cracked ribs.
"Where am I?" He asked, not really expecting an answer. He flinched when he received one.

"Somewhere safe." A voice replied from the darkness.

Michael peered into the shadows, trying to make out who had spoken, but his eyes were more or less useless in the pitch black.

"Who are you?" He demanded, feeling his temper heat up slightly. He had been attacked, beaten, threatened... and now, apparently, kidnapped.

"I brought you here. They would have killed you if I hadn't."

The voice was female, light and soft... but there was a strange kind of echoing quality to it. Michael frowned and touched the comlink on his wrist, feeling from the 'transmit' button, but when he drew his fingers over the face, he felt the jagged edges of smashed plastic, and the faint stickiness of the liquid crystal as it oozed through the perspex face. Michael swore softly. His comlink was his lifeline - his connection to Kitt... his partner must be frantic with worry by now.

"What do you want with me?" Michael asked. There was a heavy pause.

"I don't want anything. I was only trying to protect you. I... dislike seeing people get hurt. That building you were in was filled with explosives. You would have been killed if I hadn't got you out."

Michael blinked, remembering Kitt's warning - shouted just an instant too late, the deafening sound of an explosion, glass shattering and showering him with a thousand glittering shards... then...

Then, a flash of silver and the roar of an engine. The warm prow of a car pushing him out of harms way. Then... nothing but blackness.

"Look, i'm grateful for you saving my life, but I have to get back... my partner."

"Don't worry," The ethereal voice said soothingly, "They know where you are, and they're coming for you."

From the corner of his eye, Michael saw a tiny glint of silver, he snapped his head around, but the flash was gone.

"I won't hurt you." The voice said, in a subdued sort of way.

"Then why won't you show yourself?"

The pause this time was even longer, and was followed by an odd noise that could almost have been a sigh.

"Because... people sometimes get the wrong idea when they see me. I don't want to frighten you."

"Frighten me?" Michael frowned. This was getting more confusing by the second. He tried to move, to stand up an approach his would-be saviour. He didn't get very far before the stabbing pain in his chest caused him to sit back down again.

"Please, don't move!" The voice called, alarmed, "Your friends are very close, they'll come for you soon."

"How do you know?" Michael asked through a haze of pain.

"Please, you must trust me. They will be here soon."

Something nagged him about that mysterious voice. There was something odd about it... something he felt he ought to recognise, but couldn't.

Then, from out of the darkness all around him, there came a noise. Footsteps!

"Michael? Michael are you there?"

"Bonnie!" Michael cried. Relief shot through every pore in his body as he recognised the voice. The footsteps hurried towards him, accompanied by a bright, blinding light from the torch she was carrying, Michael winced at the unaccustomed brightness even as he smiled in relief. Bonnie ran her eyes over him, concerned.

"Michael, are you all right?"

"A little bruised, and some cracked ribs, I think. I'll survive." Michael replied, then turned his head to call to his rescuer, "Hey, this is my friend, Bonnie, aren't you going to say hi?"

Bonnie frowned in concern, worried for a moment that Michael's injuries were more serious than she thought.

"Michael, Kitt did a complete scan of this area, the only life-signs he found were yours."

Michael opened his mouth to reply, but another voice cut him off.

"Good bye, Michael. I'm glad I could help."

Another quick flash of silver, and the faint rumble of an engine. Tyres humming on the ground.

And this time, Michael recognised what was so strange about that voice from the darkness. It was in the way she had said his name. Precise, clipped, and with just a trace of an electronic reverb.

Like Kitt's voice.

"Wait!" Michael screamed. But it was too late.

The echoing voice and the quick silver flicker, were both gone.

End.