Thank you for the kind feedback :) We're having so much fun writing this! Oh, and sorry if the layout is a bit off, that's what comes from copy and pasting messenger exerpts into word! Anyway, I ramble. Enjoy reading!
Abigail listened with interest. So she would have been dragged into it either way. Great. "That -." She didn't have time to finish her sentence as something suddenly hit the van and she slammed into the side, her head nailing the metal. She winced, rubbing the now forming knot as they skidded more. Clutching the document to her chest, she grabbed onto the back of the passenger's seat to steady
herself, but the next thing she knew they'd hit something head on. She shot forward, flying over the top of the seat. She couldn't scream, her voice gone as she shot through the front windshield, glass scraping at every bare part of her body. She still somehow managed to clutch the document as she landed on the hood of the van. Everything hurt, and her vision was blurry, but she was still conscious, albeit, not able to think clearly. She tried to think, and pushed herself into a sitting position on the hood, one hand on the tree they had run into to balance herself. She swayed, her grip on the document loosening. "Mr. Brown?" She croaked out. "Riley?" Something caught her attention to the left, and she noticed it was a man with a gun, pointed right at her. Shrieking, she slid off the hood and onto the other side of the car to protect herself from the gunfire.
Ben had smacked into the head rest as the car collided with the tree, and was dazed, but luckily unhurt. He couldn't see Abigail for a start, which was definately not good. He staggered upright, clinging onto the chair and peered over at Riley, who was barely conscious, leaning against the air bag which had protruded from the wheel in the collision. Ben squeezed through the gap in the seats and pushed his friend upright, slapping his face lightly.
"Riley. Riley are you alright?"
Riley groaned, moving slightly.
"Major whiplash..."
Ben smiled, wider than he had anticipated.
"We didn't hit the tree too hard, we just kind of...span into it." He looked up at the windscreen and frowned deeply at the hole in it and the flecks of blood on the jagged frame. Abigail must have gone through it.
He stood abruptly, ready to dive out and help when a gunshot sounded, and he instinctively ducked. Ian really wasn't going to stop until he killed them, was he?
Turning around and bravely moving to the back doors, Ben pushed them open carefully, poked his head out and looked left and right. The backs of Ian's cronies were facing him, giving him time to creep out and around the other side of the van.
There, crouching just by the bonnet, bloodied and battered, was Abigail. It was an awful sight, her once beautiful dress in tatters and her porcelain skin dirtied and cut. He crouched and went towards her, holding a hand out.
"Abigail, come with me."
Abigail looked up at Ben. Since when were there three of him? She blinked and grabbed his hand, stumbling slightly as she got to her feet. Another gunshot whizzed by their heads as she glanced back at Riley. "What about Riley?" She asked carefully, leaning against Ben. She could feel the blood running along her arms and legs and face from the cuts, her head throbbing in pain. "Okay, so, we need away from the guys with guns." She said after a moment, swaying slightly. She managed to kick off her shoes. They were going to have to run - although, she wasn't sure she'd be able to manage a straight line. She'd just smashed through the front windshield of a car and gone airbourne. She was running on pure adrenaline right then, but eventually it was going to wear off.
"Riley's following." Ben only hoped he was. He took Abigail by the waist and let her lean on him as they dashed behind the van, ducking their heads. He needed to get Abigail to a hospital. He looked her over, startled by her injuries, but even more surprised that she still stubbornly held the Declaration. He was beginning to like her.
They got to the back doors and Riley peeked out.
"What's the plan? Please say you have a plan?"
"We run. That's the plan."
"T-that's not a good plan." Abigail managed to get out, huffing slightly as Ben tugged her behind the van. They had to get somewhere out of the line of fire though, that was for sure. Another shot rang out and she winced. "I think they're getting closer." To think she'd been enjoying herself at a nice party twenty minutes ago, and now she was being shot at. Ridiculous. "And I'm not entirely sure
I can run a straight line. Or properly run at all, for that matter." Her leg was screaming in pain - rather, her entire body was.
Ben gave her a sharp look when she said it wasn't a good plan. His plans were always good! Well, mostly.
He gave her the once over when she said she couldn't run, and he knew she was right. She was injured badly. He thought for a moment, and then scooped her up, expecting her to thrash about in his arms.
"Let's go, I know a place."
She felt like some sort of ragdoll, being tugged and carried and pulled everywhere. She didn't argue as Ben carried her though, knowing she wouldn't be able to run - she didn't feel like being shot at. Instead, she just clutched the Declaration like a lifeline, her other arm hooking around Ben's neck. "This place better be safe, Mr. Brown, because I don't fancy getting shot. I'm busted up enough,
it seems."
Ben ignored her, slightly irritated by her constant nagging. He wondered if she was like this all the time, or just in certain situations.
"Stop calling me Brown." He said, almost sharply, the pressure getting to him. "I'm Gates, alright? Ben Gates." He cut across the grass by the road, Riley scurrying along by him.
"Ben, where're we going exactly?"Review?
