No, I haven't forgotten you, I just had a crazy schedule this week. And I finished my essay, hurrah me!
The Chase
Chapter 7 - Fellow Travelers
Charlie stared with horror at Evelyn Grace's empty eyes. She had killed people before. But it had never felt so personal. Shooting an arrow was not like killing someone with your bare hands. She sat down with difficulty, pushing the body away. She had a sick feeling in her stomach.
She looked at Monroe, who was searching the bald giant's corpse. Well, she assumed the guy was dead and she didn't really care to know either way. He looked back at her, pocketing a knife at the same time.
"Remind me not to piss you off again," he joked, his chin indicating the woman lying beside her.
She didn't say anything. Her eyes looked down at her bloody hands, the skin on her wrists raw. The hands of a killer. What was she turning into? she asked herself. She would do anything to survive. But at what cost? Was she any better than Monroe?
It seemed a lifetime ago that she cried whenever things went bad.
However, now was not the time to question such things. She had more pressing business to attend to, like getting out of here alive.
Monroe slowly approached her, then extended a hand. His blue eyes were weirdly intense and she felt that this moment was a defining one. Either she took his hand and that meant she accepted his help or she denied it and they were back to square one. She looked at his hand like it held the answer. His knuckles were bruised from his fight. But they were warm hands, strong hands, and they had never hurt her. Not even once.
She placed her smaller one in it. Monroe immediately pulled her up. They were standing really close to each other. Her body only centimeters from his exposed torso. She felt the heat emanating from his skin and it was burning her, even though only their hands were actually touching. She searched his eyes for something, anything, but they were veiled. Whatever he was thinking was hidden in their blue depths.
Monroe raised his other hand to her face, his fingers brushing her swelling cheek. "Sorry about that," he whispered, "I needed the intel."
"That's okay," she heard herself respond, "I can take the beating." She didn't recognize her own voice, it was raspy and low. His nearness was doing strange things to her mind.
"That, you can." He sounded pensive, like she was a puzzle he needed to solve.
They stayed like this, in silence, for what felt like hours but were only seconds. Finally, Monroe broke the spell when he remarked, "They're gonna wonder what's going on in here. We should move."
"Yeah, you're right."
He unlocked her handcuffs with the key he had apparently found on the bald guy. They hit the ground with a dull sound. Her wrists hurt like crazy but she ignored the pain. "How did you free yourself, anyway?"
Monroe smiled, "I stole a needle from the doc who was stitching up my wound."
Okay, she was impressed. "Do you always have an escape plan?"
"It's in my nature." His words lingered in the room. There was something here, something behind them.
"Now what do we do, then?" she asked. She still didn't trust him, but he was her best shot at survival.
"We take down the guards outside and we get the hell outta here."
It sounded so easy when he said it like that...
It turned out that it was kind of easy. They knocked out the two guards outside the room, she was extra mean to the one who had hit her, then she followed Monroe who seemed to know exactly which direction to take. They didn't even meet anyone, expect one guard outside whom Monroe killed in one smooth move. It was night-time again. One day had passed since they had been captured. Luckily for them, the facility was in some forest, so it was all the more easier to remain unseen.
Soon, someone would notice the trail of bodies they had left behind, so they ran like hell was on their heels. It was dark but Charlie could distinguish Monroe's shape just before her, and hear his heavy breathing next to hers. He was fast. So fast she could barely keep up with him. But she took whatever strength she had left and used it not to fall behind.
They ran like that for an hour or two, she wasn't sure. She had lost track of time. Then, it started raining. It was good because it would erase their tracks. But it also meant they were getting drenched and they had to slow down. More than one time, she slipped on the muddy earth and only Monroe's support prevented her from falling down.
"We should find shelter," he said, stating the obvious after an other hour of running under the rain, "We can't go on like that."
Charlie snorted at the "we" when the truth was, she was the one who couldn't go on. Monroe's hold on her arm was the only thing that kept her going.
It was only when she was on the verge of fainting, her lungs scorching and her legs shivering, that they found somewhere to keep cover. It was a small wooden cabin, probably used by hunters before the blackout.
They went inside. It was far from cosy. Two square meters, with only a small table and two chairs. But it had a chimney. And it was dry. While Charlie fell on the ground, trying to regain her respiration, Monroe went to work. He broke the chairs in little pieces, and put them in the fireplace. He snooped around in the small kitchen – which consisted of a sink and two cupboards – and found some matches.
A few minutes later, a bright fire was warming up the place.
"Come on," Monroe said, "Come sit next to the fire or you'll catch a cold."
"You're the one who's half naked," she deadpanned. But she obeyed him. She still had goose flesh, but this time it was caused by the warmth of the flames. She sighed with contentment.
"I have an immunity against diseases."
Charlie looked at him, disbelief plain on her face.
"It's true," he insisted, while sitting next to her. "I've never caught a cold in my life."
"Aren't you the lucky one."
"Yeah..." But he didn't sound convinced. It was there again. The deep sadness that she was getting familiar with.
"Aren't they gonna see the smoke from far away?" Charlie asked, changing the subject to safer grounds, ones that didn't involve a vulnerable Monroe.
"With this weather? Very unlikely. Besides, we're not staying. We'll just rest and dry off until it stops raining. Then we go back to running. Plus, we need to find food and water."
"Since when is it 'we', Monroe?"
"Since we happen to have a common enemy. Do I have to remind you of what occurred in the tower? You heard that Grace woman. They called themselves the US government and Randall used to work for them. That means they're the ones responsible for dropping the bombs. Whatever grief lies between us, in my book that's enough cause to team up against them, don't you think? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, that kinda of thing."
"Don't push it, Monroe. I agree with you that this US government is shady and that they may have been involved with releasing the bombs. And I want to know the truth just as much as you do. But we're as far from being friends as it gets. We're just fellow travelers who happen to walk in the same direction for the same purpose, that's it."
"Duly noted."
I actually wanted to end this chapter later but I liked this end too much ;)
So there was some action between Charlie and Bass in this chapter (albeit a small one I'll admit), are you guys happy? When I told you things would be slow, I wasn't kidding. These two have too much of a bad past to jump each other's bones just because they are SO attracted to each other. I know that's what we'd all like, but that's too much sexual fantasy and less reality. Again, bear with me on this one. I hate implausible stories.
I can't believe how much reviews I'm getting for this story... Thank you so much. I'd never have thought you guys would dig Charlie/Bass as much as I do! But the show is giving us enough great scenes between the two of them to feed my hope that maybe that's were it's going with this two characters. I'm sending a little prayer to the scriptwriters here. Since it seemed we are like-minded (we both predicted that Charlie would get rescued by Monroe from evil rapists after all).
See you soon.
