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Part 26

POV - Gill

I can do it, I repeat the mantra in my head, just one step at a time. The pain from hitting my arm against unseen obstacles over and over again is becoming an agony.

What is it with pain and me lately anyway? It seems to be stalking me on every corner, if not at emotional than at least physical level.

I try not to think, not to feel, just mechanically follow Rader's footsteps.

He says something, I barely catch the meaning of the words. Blood pulsating in my temple makes it difficult to concentrate, "Running on fumes, but I'm gonna make it…"

Hope he didn't catch wavering in my voice. Even if he did, he doesn't let it show, "Look, we will put some distance between us and our fan club, and I will get your head fixed, okay?"

One step at a time. Inhale, exhale. Another step. One more. That's it.

Shit! Sharp pain shooting through my arm makes me see in red. The feeling of bones gridding against each other makes me sick. I manage a couple more steps, before the world spins out of control.

I fall, mentally trying to brace myself for inevitable pain that will come as my injured limb hits the ground, but strong arms catch me midair. It is Jack.

His hold is firm, but careful around my injured shoulder. He gives me a couple of minutes to pull myself together, before asking, "Can you stand?"

I hate to admit it, but the world still hasn't stop its crazy Marry-go-round, "No… I need a minute."

"I just gave you two. Do you really want me to carry you?" his voice full of sarcasm, "C'mon!"

Rader's irony filled tone is just the fuel I need. Mustering coldest stare I can come up with under the circumstances, I try to stand up. Without a comment, Jack is assisting my every move and for once I'm grateful.

He sits me against a tree root and I close my eyes, trying to get a hold of my breath and emotions. I'm tired and scared, but the hell will freeze over before I will admit it loud.

Rader's voice just by my ear startles me, "I will patch you up in no time."

When the hell did he return? To shake off uneasiness I try to joke, "Is it a promise or a threat?"

Not giving him time to come up with a witty reply, I ask, "How is your knee?"

I noticed that over last half on hour his limping progressed. It worries me, because our survival might depend on his mobility.

"I'll live," is his sore reply, "Here, can you hold this for me?"

He gives me the flashlight and I do my best to mask how badly my fingers shake. Whatever Rader is doing, burns my forehead like hell, I can't stop myself "Ouch!"

"Don't worry. We are going to make it."

I'm not sure whether he is trying to convince himself or me, and reassure him, "I know. Just have to buy us some time…" … at least I hope so.

"Here, this should do for a while."

My 'thanks' is genuine.

For a moment we sit side by side in silence. I know his next words, before he opens mouth, because at times like this we think similarly. We are complete opposites of Cal (even at time like this I still think of the man!?) and push our emotions aside sticking to the logic, "Look, if we stay together, we are like ducks in a barrel…"

"I know," I agree and admit, "Besides I will only slow you down. Even limping you run like for Olympic Gold."

The darkness doesn't hide the doubts on his face, but the emotion quickly disappears. He starts to move.

I know Jack really means it, when he says, "I will try to find help or at least orientate in which direction the road is and come back for you."

"Be careful," I truly hope that at least one of us stands a chance.

xxx

I'm not sure whether I have been dozing off or passing out, but the click of a gun pressed against my skull shakes me back to harsh reality.

How the hell did they find me? I open eyes and my question answers itself – a tall figure in a night vision googles is standing in front of me.

I would have been terrified, if I wasn't pass caring. My only wish is to get it over with.

I close my eyes, ready top take the bullet, but instead I feel myself being roughly pulled on my feet. Next moment we are on the move.

Navigating through the wilderness with Rader, who did his best to ease my path, seems like a walk in the park, compared to this manhandle. I'm caught between the two men. The one behind keeps roughly showing and pushing me forward. I have absolutely no idea where this crazy ride is going or why the hurry.

Soon we enter a clearing and one of the captors pushes me roughly down on my knees. I look around. There is nothing in ten foot radius. No coverage, no chance to catch us by surprise. The realization casts cold shivers down my spine.

They want to lure out Jack and I'm the bait.

Both men are several feet away, discussing something, but try as I might, I can't make out the words, only silenced murmurs.

Please, Jack, for once in your life be that arrogant, self-centered bastard I know and leave me behind. I don't want your death on my conscience.

My captors split apart. One is securing perimeter, while the other focuses on me.

"Where is your boyfriend?" for the second time a barrel of the gun is pressed to my scull, "You know we will get him, it is only a matter of time."

I shrug nonchalantly, not trusting my voice. He continues probing me, but I remain silent. What else can I do?

I know it is a dangerous game, but more pissed off the man is, greater chance that he will make a fatal mistake.

My efforts are rewarded with a harsh slap. Right cheek burns angrily and blood from the split lip fills my mouth. Metallic taste provokes nausea and bile rises up my throat. Unable to stop it, I lean forward and retch. We didn't have a time for lunch today. Dry heaving only intensifies the cramps.

"What are you doing?" I hear my attacker's partner just behind my head. How did I miss his approach?! The man steadies me and squeezes something heavy in my trembling hand, "Here, slowly…"

It takes me a couple of seconds to realize it is a bottle of water. My hands are shaking badly. The man steadies the bottle against my lips and I greedily take large gulps. Cold, crystal liquid soothes my upset stomach and I momentarily feel better. I try to catch some glimpses of his face, but it is covered by a mask.

"Don't forget why we are here…" the other man doesn't sound happy.

"How could I," the one who helped me replies. Looking straight at me he suddenly asks, "How long have you been working for the wanker?"

Whom!? Cal?! What does he has to do with this? To say that the question surprised me would be a huge understatement.

"Don't you understand, there are lives at stake?"

Despite myriad of questions rolling in my head, I stay silent. If their main objective was to kill me, I would be dead right now. So they are after something else, but what? Information? Revenge?

"Cut it, the bitch won't talk. To work with the man, she must be as crazy as the bastard."

Their conversation only further confuses me. Crazy bastard?! Sounds a lot like Cal, but why, why here and why now?

Rustling in the bushes at the edge of the clearing catch their attention.

"Go, check!" my abuser commands. The other man is already on the move. Too bad. With the 'Softie' I would have better chances.

My abuser puts a knife at my throat. How thoughtful… as if gun alone is not enough to scare the living shit out of me?!

"Call him!" it is not a request, but a command.

I remain silent, in my hearts hoping that it is and at the same time – that it is not Jack. His presence would lift up my spirits, but it would also rob any chance we had.

"Don't make me hurt you!" vise like fingers dug deeper in my arm, I yelp in pain and fresh set of tears run down my face.

The knife presses into my neck, I'm afraid to breathe or take any sudden move. Suddenly the knife disappears and arm around my neck roughly digs into my injured shoulder dragging me up on my feet.

The jolt of pain literally makes me see the stars.

I hear screams, but don't understand the meaning of the words. Only several seconds later, when the dark spots have stopped dancing in front of my eyes, I realize that on the other end of clearing in exact same position, only in reversed roles are Rader and 'Softie'.

I can't move, every tiny jerk shoots agony through my arm.

"Drop the knife or your girl dies," attacker shouts at Rader. Even in my current state, I see wheels turning in Jack's head. He knows that this standoff is not in our favor, but his ability to bargain even in most hopeless situations will never cease to amaze me.

"The police is on the way. Let her go and I will let you walk."

I know he is bluffing and seems that my attacker knows it too. He roughly pulls me closer, putting even bigger pressure on my injured arm.

That's it! Mad anger overpowers pain. I'm sick of men hurting me, sick of being pushed and tossed around like a rug doll.

There is some thunder like sound in a distance, but I can't really make it.

With renewed determination I muster all the energy left and swing my head back in full force. Judging by the pouring curses, I managed to break man's nose. I try to spin and duck, thus giving Rader a chance to shoot, but never really make it. Despite my best efforts, the grip on my shoulder remain iron.

I'm pushed down on my knees.

My desperate maneuver just got kicked in the ass.

Closing eyes, I brace myself. The gun presses in the back of my head with a renewed force.

Everything happens in a split second.

A gunshot, then blinding pain erupts at the base of my scull.

Last thing I hear before I fall into darkness, is Rader's fear filled roar, "Nooooo…"

Jack, you should have left when you had a chance.

Now you will die, just like I…

tbc