Title: Tears of the Weevil
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Don't own Torchwood, the characters or anything related to the show.
"Stay in formation." Jack ordered as they made their way down the several flights of stairs towards the lobby. He and Emmerich led the way with Gwen in the middle and Lacey and Owen covering the rear. Gwen was the only one who wasn't armed so the others had to keep her safe.
One flight from the lobby they found a stray weevil. He sat at the bottom of the stairs, his clothes stained in blood and the body of a dead security guard lay in front of him. It looked up from its quarry and snarled, it's fangs bared and it's expression one of anger. Owen pushed his way to the front of the group and growled at it. "Move." It snarled right back. Owen was right, the blood lust and the mob mentality had blocked out his presence and authority. He no longer had control over the lower level weevils. Jack raised his gun but Lacey pushed it down and stepped beside her father.
"Move!" She snarled, her eyes dark and her own teeth on show. The weevil hesitated, all predators could sense when they were faced with more powerful beasts than themselves. If weevils were the next step in the evolutionary chain then Lacey was the second. It snarled again but retreated from the stairwell and back in to the lobby. Owen glanced at her with a blank expression.
"I don't know whether to be impressed or scared when you do that."
They silently descended the last few stairs and paused at the door as they heard the sounds of gunfire and snarling weevils. Owen placed a hand on the door and could feel the pulsing anger of the weevils and humans alike. Steadying himself he pushed the door open and stormed in to the chaos. Lacey followed close behind him while Jack and Emmerich covered Gwen.
Inside the lobby was complete chaos. The weevils had barricaded the doors with furniture, but the officers had forced their way through, bodies and office furniture littered the reception. The elevator was on the other side of the large reception room, almost two hundred foot away. Jack kept in front of her as a human shield as they ran for the elevator, Emmerich ran in front of them to get the door open, a couple of nearby weevils went for her, only to be stopped by Lacey pouncing on them. Owen went for a policemen who was shooting at Jack and tackled him to the ground. As the police began to aim at Torchwood Jack took hold of Gwen's arm and pushed her to run as fast as she could. They slid in to the open lift seconds after Emmerich had opened it. "Owen!" Jack shouted impatiently after the others didn't follow them.
Lacey pulled away from the weevils and rushed to grab Owen. He still lay on top of the cop. "C'mon Owen." Most of the cops had retreated but a few were still firing in to the building. He still didn't move. "Dad? DAD!" She dropped to her knees and shook him. He groaned as he came too. Lacey sighed as she helped him to his feet. He'd simply been knocked out when he'd jumped the cop. Suddenly he crouched down beside the unconscious officer and removed his jacket. When he stood up Lacey saw the damp patch in his dark shirt and suddenly recognised one isolated blood scent above all the others in the room. "You were shot?" He zipped up the jacket to hide his wound.
"Don't say a word to the others." He growled as they ran to the elevator. Lacey silently obeyed him.
"Nice of you to join us." Jack snapped as he slammed the button to take them down and the doors creaked closed. The lift led them down in to the sewers below the city. Jack grinned as he realised where they were. There was an entrance to Torchwood not far from where they stood. "Let's move it people!" Gwen and Emmerich followed him as he headed down one of the tunnels. Lacey looked warily at Owen as they slowly paced behind the others. He was pale and his skin was coated in a layer of sweat. The scent of his blood overpowered all other smells in the sewer.
"Hurry up you two!" Owen squeezed her hand as they sped up, he tried to hide the pain on his face, but she could hear his laboured breathing, and his heart pounding against his chest. He needed help, and fast.