Thanks to those who are gracious enough to let me bounce ideas off of them. Thanks for reading guys. Any and all feedback appreciated.
The silent, abandoned building echoed footsteps again. This time they came from the other direction, and were produced by smaller boots than Ivan wore. HG Wells jogged down the cat walk hallway, keeping an eye out for Artie and his captor. She desperately wanted to find Artie before Myka and Pete; hopefully do something heroic in front of him. That would get her back into the Warehouse. If she could get Artie, her biggest critic, in debt to her, that would remove the biggest obstacle to getting her reinstated. The possibility of making her critic her ally gave Wells added motivation as she searched the building.
Then, she caught sight of something different. HG ducked to better see the glimpse of filtered sunlight hitting an earth colored shape that nearly camouflaged with the rest of the abandoned building. Her hopes all seemed to rise to her throat, only controlled by sheer will of the author. She drew her slim pistol and surveyed the area quickly for Artie's captor. Not hearing any motion nor sound at all, HG crept forward to descend the stairs that led down Artie.
The time traveling author glanced around nervously. Once she was down the stairs she was exposed; she knew it and she didn't like it. She called out to Artie in a harsh whisper, hoping for information. When she looked at him again, it was then that she saw him hanging limply from chains attached to thick metal support beams. HG cursed silently. It was just her luck that Artie was already dead. But she had to make sure. She knew it was her only chance at that point.
"Artie!" She called as loud as she dared as she looked around, fearful of alerting his captor of her presence, but also watching for any signs of life from the Warehouse supervisor.
"Artie!" HG whispered and saw Artie jerk slightly. Or perhaps her active imagination was showing her what she hoped to see. But, it coincided with a tiny reflection of green from the floor.
HG cleared the room of danger. Not hearing a response from Artie made her fear rise. As she approached, she saw that not only did he not move, but his head hung down lifelessly. Dread rose as she approached the man who held her hopes of rejoining the Warehouse. If Artie had already been killed, then she missed her chance to be prove herself, moreover, she was sure that she would somehow blamed. That's just how it seemed to work in the Warehouse lately. HG briefly panicked at the thought of life on the run, her eyes automatically scanning the area for any threats. Just as quickly, she took a breath and refocused on the present.
Lips parted in anticipation, HG quietly circled to the front of the captured man. Her face fell in disappointment at seeing him. Artie looked terrible. There was fresh blood falling into his beard from a split lip, and a wound on his head went untreated for so long that blood from it was already dried down the right side of his face. His eyes were closed with dark circles under them and his skin was so pale it was alarming. His shirt was stained and ripped and his wrists were swollen and bleeding from the shackles that he was hanging from. Fairly sure that he already died what looked to be a painful death, Wells tucked her gun into her belt. If this was only a corpse, then his captor was probably already gone and she was too late. To make sure, the ex-agent knelt down to check his pulse.
Artie felt a thin, cold finger pressed against his neck. The chill jerked Artie awake, which he immediately regretted. Pain came from every joint and his head spun so badly that he had to close his eyes again. A raven haired woman was a foot in front from him, sighing with relief that he was alive. Alarm leapt up in him when the last person he expected responded to the surprise in his eyes. He tried to speak too fast and it came out as a whimper. Wells hissed at him to shush him. She glanced around nervously realizing that if he was still alive, then his captor was likely still nearby.
The thin woman stood and went to unlock his shackles. Artie had to force his eyes open again. All he wanted to do was retreat back into unconsciousness to escape the pain of being awake. Instead, he looked up and pulled his right hand, shaking the chain that was still there. HG shushed him. Artie felt horrible and yet he had a distinct lack of concern about it. He bowed his head, but before he closed his eyes, he saw the jacks on the floor in front of him. One glinted, making Artie grunt and whimper at the emotional pain that ripped at him deep in his chest.
He made himself talk, but couldn't manage coherent words. HG shushed him. She almost had one thick cuff open. "N…n… jacks… the jacks." Artie managed to say.
HG saw the jacks on the ground. With one sweep of her leg she kicked them all to the side. Artie made more incoherent noises, prompting HG to desperately try to hush him again as she went back to working on his shackle, but Artie continued until he eeked out, "N… no, behind you…."
Wells turned around at his warning and saw a sharp young man dressed all in black and aiming something large at her. HG put her hands up in surrender. "You don't have to do this." was all she got out before Ivan blew on the piece of wood that he pointed at her. Frost blew off the board, and inexplicably, into her.
A chill, colder than anything she had ever felt before, ran through HG. Instantly in shock, she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. The woman collapsed to the hard concrete floor, painfully contorting while her limbs froze.
Ivan calmly walked towards Artie, letting the artifact freeze HG from the inside out. Artie saw HG fall, cringing at the horrible sight of her freezing right in front of him. In that instant, crushing guilt crumpled his chest from the inside out. He gasped at the feeling, bowing slightly under the weight. HG writhed in pain, literally freezing a slow death because she tried to help him. Artie's face fell further into shadow, his eyes as hollow as he felt inside. He hung from the chains, unable to free himself, barely finding the motivation to breath.
HG's pale skin turned blue. Frost grew on her clothes and contrasted starkly against her jet black hair. She let out a cry of misery from the painful process. Her cries seemed to reach out to Artie, cutting through the darkness that weighed on him. He raised his eyes to her to see the smart and beautiful woman writing in pain. Guilt fell upon him again, but this time, Artie recognized the effects of the jacks. He used the guilt to fill what he was missing. Artie gulped a breath and held it, cringing as he got his feet under him.
Ivan watched the agent struggle, confidently waiting while Artie slowly pulled himself to his feet. "It takes a while." Ivan tilted his head to see the pain in Artie's face better. "I want to watch you- watch your friend die."
His soul already cracked and fractured, Artie lost his compassion. Suddenly, watching HG dying didn't affect him. The agent's heart seemed to be gone, only a hole of nothing left in him. His relied on his instincts, unable to hide his lack of concern, Artie leaned against a pillar and quietly shrugged, "Let her die. Sh- she means nothing to me." Even he was surprised by his words. He blinked, wondering how he was so calm. He didn't like nor trust HG, but she was obviously trying to help him, and was dying in front of him because of that. In an instant, Artie knew it was because of the jacks.
Ivan's eye brows went up in disbelief. "The woman who risked her life to save you?" An amused smile graced his lips, showing his charisma possible in different circumstances. "It is very dangerous to be your friend." He under emphasized, not knowing how true his words really were.
Artie was fed up with Ivan. He was going to just let HG die right here, for no reason. The youth's disregard for human life just made the old man mad. "What are you going to do? Ju- just kill people who have nothing to do with this?" It was a frustrated and desperate accusation.
Ivan didn't bite. He grinned his sickly sweet smile. "Don't worry. Her death with be quick." Ivan's face went deadly serious as he looked at his prisoners. "Not yours."
The agent's eyes went wide at Ivan's threat that he knew the Russian was going to carry out. As it was, Artie knew that he couldn't withstand much more abuse.
Then, a gun shot rang out. Artie's left hand fell down, no longer supported by the shackle. Both shocked men looked towards the noise. HG, who barely managed to hold her gun long enough to get off the shot, collapsed back to the floor.
Artie suddenly found that she shot the chain on his left arm, freeing it. With Ivan turned towards Wells, Artie fought for his life. He grunted, finding the strength to kick him, forcing the youth to the ground and sending the Titanic artifact skidding across the floor. Seizing the opportinuty, Artie grabbed the lock pick from his pocket and had the shackle open in record time, finally freeing himself. He let the pick drop to the floor when he was done with it to face Ivan.
The Russian got to his feet just to have Artie throw the cart of artifacts at him and send him flying. The agent knew that HG didn't have much time left before she died of hypothermia, so he went for the Titanic board to save her. Ivan growled and grabbed him from behind. Artie pushed and backed them up until he ran Ivan into a pole, loosening his grip. The agent turned and with his left hand, delivered a haymaker punch that laid Ivan out.
Quickly, Artie limped to HG with the Titanic artifact. He put his own pain aside and forced the artifact under one of her stiff arms to save her. "Ok, take it. Hold it tight. It's the only thing that will reverse it." HG's frozen fingers couldn't hold the board and she almost dropped it so he held her arms for her. "Hold it tight!" Artie encouraged. On the second attempt, HG grabbed the board and clung tighter than any Titanic survivor ever did.
Slowly, HG could breathe better as the effects were reversed. "You all right? Yeah… you're all right." Artie cringed from his injuries, but still, he rubbed her arms to help the warming process. He cradled her and helped her hold the board. As she thawed he said, "That was a good shot." He held up the shackle and chain that was still attached to his wrist. "Unless you were shooting Ivan."
The ice melted on the woman's clothes. Color slowly returned to her skin. HG swallowed, through trembling lips she said, "If I shot him, then you would still be chained there, and I would have frozen to death."
"Mm." Artie hummed. He had hoped that she didn't want to kill, but perhaps he gave her too much credit. "Good, good thinking."
As he held HG, Artie's back was to Ivan. The Russian slowly rose, wiping the blood from his lip. Quietly, he picked up an artifact from the ground where it fell off of the table. Artie was still reviving HG as Ivan raised his arms up. Ivan snarled and quickly brought his hands down. In his hands was an ancient knife hilt.
Artie's head reared up and he screamed. He fell forward, onto HG, grabbing his shoulder and trying to reach his back. His fingers came back wet with blood. Under him, HG and Artie's eyes met. They shared a look of fear.