Chapter 23
A questioning chirp from below broke Owen out of his thoughts, and he looked over the railing down into the paddock. Charlie was staring up at him, her head tilted to the side in question. If it had been any other day, Owen would've probably focused on the fact that she wasn't snarling and almost looked concerned. Instead, he just stared down at her blankly, wondering what she could possibly want from him.
She chirped again, looking at him and then spinning in a circle slowly, her gaze following the bits of the catwalk she could see from her spot, before coming back to land on him again. He should've been impressed — really impressed — that he understood what she was confused about. Until she'd interrupted him, he'd been doing laps around the perimeter catwalk as a way to burn off energy. He hadn't been thinking about the two raptors below and that they might get curious as to what he was doing, especially since he hadn't even half-heartedly tried to engage with them. Owen had been too focused on his thoughts, while also clutching tightly to his phone, waiting for it to ring or chime or something. He'd take anything, at this point. He just wanted a response from Claire.
He'd been waiting for her to give him an update as to what she found at the Estate ever since she'd told him she was going exploring around lunchtime. At first, it had been somewhat easy to ignore the lack of information. After all, it was likely she found nothing and had been sucked back into meetings before she could tell him that. But, it was getting late now. It was almost ten pm on the island, which meant it was after eight for her, and surely she should be back at her hotel room by now, or at least headed that way. From what she'd said, Lockwood didn't seem like someone who would have meetings late into the evening.
So, why hasn't she said anything?
Over dinner, Owen had sent a couple of messages, wondering if maybe her phone was dead. Then, as the night had drawn on, he'd sent more, each one with increasing urgency. He was sure his desperation was starting to show, especially in his last one that had simply said Call me. I need to know you're okay. Please.
But she hadn't.
He'd tried to go back to his room, but he'd been unable to even think about lying down on his bed, and as his room was too tiny to pace, he'd eventually ended up out at the raptor paddock, where he'd chosen to lap the catwalk while he waited. He really should've expected that the raptors would wonder what he was doing, especially with it being so late.
Owen leaned on the railing, looking down at Charlie who was still gazing up at him. "I'm sorry, Charlie. Go back to sleep."
Charlie didn't move, continuing to watch him. There was a rustle of leaves, and then Echo appeared, coming to a stop beside her sister and also staring up at him.
"Really girls, I'm fine," he repeated. "Go on, sleep." He waved them off, but instead of leaving, Echo let out her own concerned chirp. Owen sighed, his hands coming up to scrub at his face, before he pushed up and away from the railing. "You're right, I should, too. I'm probably blowing this out of proportion. She'll phone when she gets home. It's not that late there, not yet."
o-o-o
Bolting upright in bed, Owen looked around frantically. He didn't remember falling asleep. Eventually, as the night had worn on, he vaguely remembered taking a break and sitting down. He must have fallen asleep without realizing. But what had woken him? Had Claire finally responded?
He looked around frantically, trying to find his phone, but he couldn't see it. Hadn't he been clutching it? Shouldn't it be on the bed? It took another few precious minutes before Owen thought to look over the sides, and then under the bed when he heard it chirp again, where it must have fallen, his grip relaxing as he slept.
Grabbing it, he eagerly looked at the screen, only for disappointment to race through him. It was just a news alert. Unlocking the phone, he checked his messages, just in case, but there was nothing new from Claire, just his string of texts staring back at him. He opened his email, and again, there was the various clutter that a new day brought, but nothing from Claire. He tried to call her phone again, but this time it didn't even ring, instead going straight to voicemail. What did that mean, he wondered. Had she turned it off?
As Owen was contemplating what to do next, it finally dawned on him that he could hear people moving about, and that his room was no longer full of shadows, but bright as early morning light filtered through his window. A glance at his phone showed that it was not quite 6:30. Of course, early for him meant it was still very early for Claire, but he was finding it impossible to justify to himself that she would just not reply to his messages before going to bed. No, if she'd seen them, she'd at least have said something, even if it was just to say she was tired and would say more later.
Something was wrong.
He was sure that something was wrong.
But what could he do? He looked down at the phone in his hand and a single name popped into his head. There was one person he could probably reach out to, one person who may not look at him like he was crazy for being sure that something had happened.
He knew it was early, but he didn't care. He quickly searched his contacts and hit call. And then, he paced the few steps that his room would allow while he listened to his phone ring.
"Owen?" Zara answered, her surprise at his call clear, but she sounded fully awake. Of course, she worked with Claire who got up at 5:30 everyday. Zara had probably already been up for a while.
"Have you heard from Claire?" he asked, not bothering with pleasantries.
"This morning? You know it's only like 4:30 in California, right?"
"I know. I mean yesterday."
"I talked with her in the morning," Zara replied, "and we had a short text conversation later."
"When?" Owen demanded, his voice ringing with urgency.
"Why?" she countered.
He had a brief moment of self doubt, but he pushed ahead. "I'm worried," he admitted. "I haven't heard from her since about lunchtime yesterday. I sent a bunch of texts. I called her. Nothing. No messages, no calls, no emails, zip."
"Huh," Zara replied. "Any reason she'd be avoiding you?"
"Not that I know of," he said, sinking down to sit on the edge of his bed. "But, that's why I'm calling you. You guys are always in contact. When did you last hear from her?"
"Um," she replied slowly, "let me check." Owen got up from his perch, starting to pace again as he waited. This was taking too long. "Huh, looks like while I sent her emails throughout the afternoon, the last thing I received from her was around 2."
"So around lunch," he said. "So we both lost contact about the same time."
"I guess so," Zara replied. "But, Owen, if something happened, I'm sure Mr. Lockwood or Eli or someone would've reached out — she's not alone. What do you think could've happened? It's not like she could've had a random car accident that no one knows about. She didn't rent a car. Lockwood's chauffeur was going to drive her between her hotel and the Estate."
"Something's wrong," Owen repeated. "Zara, I know it's crazy, but something's wrong. This doesn't make any sense. And she was–" He cut off, not really wanting to bring Zara in on his (and Claire's) crazy theory.
"She was what?" Zara asked when he didn't finish. "If you want me to help, you gotta let me know what's going on."
"What can you even do?"
"You'd be surprised," she said simply. "Tell me what she was doing."
Stopping by his window, Owen looked out at Sorna, staring across the field towards the raptor paddock as he pinched the bridge of his nose briefly, before letting out a soft sigh. "Tuesday evening she told me that she thought she heard a dinosaur when she was at the Estate. She sort of brushed it aside at first, but then she said that she wasn't the only one who heard it. That the little girl who lives there–"
"Maisie," Zara supplied.
"Yeah, her. Claire said that Maisie heard it, too. It just… The whole thing had us starting to wonder. I mean, there have been dinosaurs at that Estate before, after all, back when everything first started. Anyway, the last message I got from her was a text yesterday saying she was about to go outside and walk the grounds and see if she could find anything." He paused briefly. "I know it sounds crazy. I mean, dinosaurs, in California?" He let out a short, humourless laugh. "But Claire would know what she was hearing. I mean, who better to recognize dinosaur sounds than someone who has lived surrounded by them for a decade?"
There was a long pause when he finished, before Zara asked: "How would they get a dinosaur? They couldn't have been hiding one all this time, could they?"
"No, probably not," Owen agreed. "But… we've never located Blue. Or even the other babies that went missing."
"You think she found Blue," Zara stated, and Owen hummed his agreement. "Wow."
"I know it sounds crazy–" he started again, but she interrupted him.
"It doesn't. I mean, okay, yes, it does, sort of. But… we deal with crazy stuff daily. And, you know, I've never really liked Eli. Him turning out to be a bad guy actually sort of makes sense."
"The fact she isn't replying… Zara, you know this isn't like her. Something's wrong." Turning away from his window, Owen looked around his room briefly, before his gaze landed on the picture frame on his bedside table. Suddenly, he knew what he needed to do. "I need to go there. I need to find her."
"I could call the police in Orick," Zara offered. "Have them go out and check."
"They won't find anything," Owen said, as he moved to his closet and pulled down his duffle to start packing. "Think about it. If Eli is involved, then he's probably got some cover story already concocted. He'll just say she left yesterday. He's probably hiding all of this from Lockwood, so Lockwood would back him up, regardless if he actually saw Claire left. No, I've gotta go myself." Glancing at the time, he saw it was still before 7am. "Dammit, the boat doesn't leave for hours."
"I'll send the helicopter."
Owen paused in his packing, pulling his phone away from his ear as he stared at it for a moment, before raising it again. "I'm sorry, the helicopter?"
"I told you that I could help," Zara reminded him. Owen could hear her smirk at his surprise. "I can send the helicopter to pick you up and take you over to the airport. I can even book a flight for you."
"Really?" Owen couldn't believe his good luck. "You'd do that? For me?"
"For Claire," Zara corrected him. "You're right. This is really abnormal for her. I'm going to phone the police, too. But, you're probably right that they'll laugh at me, and at most just check in at the hotel. Still, it'll take you most of the day to get there. It's worth having them do something."
"Thanks, Zara," he replied. "I owe you so much."
"You do," she agreed. "I better go, though, so I can arrange all of this."
"Wait," he called out, before she could hang up. "I need one more favour."
"What?"
"My passport," he groaned. Dammit, he was going to have to stop by Nublar first.
"I'll get it," she told him. "Just tell me where. Same place Claire keeps hers?"
"Wait, you have access to our place?" Owen almost dropped the phone. How did he not know that?
"Sometimes I have to grab stuff for Claire," Zara simply replied, as if it was no big deal. "Like her passport when she needs to head out last minute. So… same place?"
"Yeah, same place," he said, still feeling stunned.
"It'll be on the helicopter," she promised. "Expect it in probably an hour or so. I'll send you an update as soon as I sort it all out."
"Thanks, Zara."
o-o-o
Owen was back to pacing as he waited for the helicopter to arrive. The last hour had disappeared in a hurry. He'd had the fastest shower of his life before getting changed, finishing packing, grabbing food, and then filling in Barry (and Zia, who had been sitting with them). They had both looked a little concerned that he was overreacting, but neither had tried to convince him not to go. Barry had just said he'd take care of the raptors, and Zia had said that she'd help.
Owen had gone by the paddock briefly to say good morning to Echo and Charlie, who had mostly ignored him, and now he was waiting in the open area, constantly scanning the sky.
"What are you doing?"
Owen paused in his pacing, turning around to see Hoskins was standing off to the side, his hands on his hips as he watched Owen with a frown.
"Waiting for my ride," Owen said simply, his gaze immediately going back up to scan the horizon.
"Your… ride?" Hoskins mimicked Owen's actions. "Where are you going? I don't remember you requesting time off."
"Something came up," Owen said, partly because he knew it would piss Hoskins off, but more because he was not about to admit the real real reason to him. After all, if he and Claire were right, if Claire's chance viewing of Hoskins and Eli meant anything, Hoskins may actually be a part of whatever was happening. The thought filled him with a sudden surge of intense fury, and he had to fight back his instinct to demand to know if Hoskins was involved. If he was, Owen didn't want to tip his hand, not until he knew Claire was safe. "An… emergency. Zara's sending a helicopter."
"With Claire? I haven't heard about any emergency," Hoskins replied, his brow furrowing. "You can't just take off, you know."
Finally, Owen could see the helicopter in the distance. He barely spared a glance in Hoskins' direction. "Watch me."
"You're not in control here," Hoskins stated, his voice growing louder. "You can't leave without my permission."
"Well, then give it," Owen replied, before pointing up at the helicopter. "Because I'm about to get on that and leave."
"You leave and I'll fire you," Hoskins threatened.
"Over what?" Owen challenged. "Me leaving for an emergency? Zara sent the helicopter. You don't think Masrani knows what's going on? He's a little higher up the ladder than you are."
Okay, so the Masrani part Owen was pretty sure was a lie, but, well, project confidence in what you say, right?
"I–I–" Hoskins stammered, but Owen just turned away, picking up his bag as he watched the helicopter descend.
When it reached the ground, Owen hurried over to it, ducking down against the wind radiating outwards from the rotors. Climbing in, he smiled tightly at the pilot, who simply handed him a pair of headphones. Barely a moment later, they were off, and Owen finally looked out to see that Hoskins was glaring up at them. As the helicopter banked, turning around to head to the mainland, Owen got a glimpse into the raptor paddock, where he could see Barry standing on the catwalk, the two raptors, as usual, frozen in place, as they watched the helicopter leave.
While Owen's main concern was finding Claire, there was a part of him that couldn't suppress the thought that if something was wrong it must mean that Claire had found something. And that maybe, not only would he be finding her, but that he might be about to find Blue, too.
o-o-o
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Claire didn't know what to do. She had been stuck in this damn cell now for what felt like days (although, according to her watch, it hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet). She'd woken up to Blue screeching, which had not paired well with the splitting headache she also had, from whatever, whoever had hit her over the head with.
Blue had continued to screech and Claire had looked out the bars, hoping to see someone, anyone, but there had been no one around. It had taken her a bit, but she'd eventually realized that she had been placed into the cell next to the raptor. When she'd called out Blue's name, the raptor had cut off mid-screech, before sending out a round of hopeful chitters, and Claire had felt the smallest sense of pride that it seemed like maybe Blue recognized her voice.
But, there hadn't been anything Claire could do. She couldn't get out of her cell, and she really didn't actually know what to say to the raptor. And so, after a while, Blue had resumed her screeching, and Claire had just groaned.
A couple of hours later, when she had finally heard someone, Claire had got up from the hay bale she had been sitting on, and had walked over to the bars only to see a vaguely familiar person. She wasn't 100% positive, but she was pretty sure they were a former lab employee from Nublar. What the hell were they doing here? Actually, she realized she knew the answer to that, having seen the lab. The more accurate question was, how the hell had they ended up working here. How had Eli found them?
It hadn't been until hours later, when she had felt like her bladder was going to burst (while also feeling like she was about ready to kill for a drop of water) that Eli had shown up, accompanied by a security guard (one she thought might be the person who had knocked her unconscious earlier). This time, she noticed that the guard was armed, and while they had let her out (only long enough to take her to a bathroom before escorting her back), she been held at gunpoint the entire time (well, minus the three minutes of privacy she got in the bathroom, which, unfortunately, had no windows or other exits).
When she'd asked about food, Eli had eventually scrounged up a granola bar and a bottle of water and tossed it into her cell. It hadn't been enough, but at least it had been something. Claire had tried to get him to talk. Tried to figure out how he'd got mixed up in everything and how Blue had ended up there. She'd been able to tell that he wanted to tell her. That he was bursting to let someone in on his brilliance and to spill everything he'd done, but he'd managed to keep it in, for now. She was certain he would eventually give in and tell her everything.
A while later, she had heard more people moving about, as they seemed to be leaving for the night. She'd tried calling out, but no one had responded and as quickly as the noise had rose, it disappeared, the basement falling silent, as even Blue had given up making any noise.
The night had seemed to stretch on forever. The lights had been dimmed, but not fully extinguished, and all she had was the bale of hay to try and curl up on. As she'd lay there, she'd thought mostly about Owen. About her last message to him, and wondering what he was thinking, considering she was sure he'd be waiting for a follow up and it had been hours. She'd hoped he'd raise an alarm, but the night had dragged on and no cavalry had come bursting through the doors.
Aside from taking a second trip to the bathroom (and getting a second granola bar), Claire had been stuck in her cell all morning. She'd asked Eli what he planned to do with her, but he'd been noncommittal, just vaguely saying that he was sorting it out.
However, about an hour ago, she'd heard him yelling. She hadn't been able to see him, but she thought he must be upstairs, standing near the railing looking down on her level. She'd only been able to hear one side of the conversation, so she assumed he'd been on the phone. "What the hell? He's on his way? Why didn't you stop him? What am I supposed to do?"
Claire had felt a brief spark of hope at that, thinking that Eli must be referring to Owen, before a wave of panic had set in: Owen would be walking into a trap. And then, a second wave of panic had hit, as she realized that it confirmed her and Owen's conclusion, that Eli had to be working with someone back on Nublar. Or, her mind reminded her, someone on Sorna. Someone like Hoskins.
o-o-o
Thanks to the helicopter, and Zara working as his travel agent, Owen had made it to San Jose just in time to catch the last direct flight to LAX. From there, he'd had to catch a second plane to a tiny airport in Northern California near an equally tiny town called Eureka, and then rent a car to drive the rest of the way.
By the time he made it to Orick, it was after 7pm and he felt like he was about to burst out of his skin. He'd spent almost nine of the past 12 hours being crammed into various plane seats, feeling trapped, uncomfortable, and worst of all, unable to do anything but wait.
And now that he was there, all he wanted was answers. Starting with where the hell was Claire?
He'd been in touch with Zara as much as possible throughout his journey. And in between arranging the helicopter, finding his passport, and sorting out his flights, Zara had phoned the hotel that Claire was staying at. He wasn't quite sure how she'd done it, but she'd managed to convince the person on the night shift to go and check on Claire. The room had been empty, and there was no sign that Claire had been back since housekeeping had gone through early the previous afternoon.
Owen knew that that was what had really convinced Zara that something was wrong. That up until that point, she'd been mostly-convinced, but still somewhat humouring him.
And so, by the time Owen had reached San Jose, Zara had been on the phone with the police. Unlike the hotel's night duty clerk, however, they had been a lot less sympathetic to her pleas, telling her that they weren't about to storm up to the Lockwood Estate at barely seven in the morning just because she hadn't heard from a grown woman in the past 12 hours.
However, seven hours later, when Owen had landed in Los Angeles, Zara had proudly reported that she'd worn the police down, and they'd finally sent someone out, if only to shut her up. Unfortunately, when Zara had followed up, they told her that they'd spoken with Iris and Mr. Lockwood, who both informed them that Claire had said she'd had an emergency and had left shortly after lunch and they hadn't heard from her since. They'd said that both Lockwood and Iris had appeared quite concerned at their presence, but were unable to provide any other assistance.
For a brief moment, Owen wondered if he had everything wrong, but then Zara had added, "They didn't talk to Eli. And I'm not actually sure that Lockwood saw Claire leave, or if he was just told that she'd left. I don't think the police questioned them that thoroughly." From that, Owen had realized that Zara was even more convinced than he was that Eli was in on whatever must be going on. It had felt good to know that someone was on his side.
Owen's first stop in Orick was the hotel, where Zara had got an extension on Claire's room (she was, after all, supposed to have checked out that morning and been on her way back to the island — and yes, Zara had confirmed that she had never checked in for her flight, another troubling sign). Zara had also informed them that he was coming and on his arrival, he'd been given a key to the room.
He wasn't sure what he'd expected to find when he got there. A clue, maybe. But there wasn't anything obvious. Her suitcase was on the luggage rack, a few items of clothing hanging in the closet, and her toiletries neatly arranged around the sink in the bathroom. As the night clerk had said, the bed was made, and nothing looked out of place.
Owen hadn't stayed long. He left his duffle in the room, before heading back out to his rental car, intent on visiting the Estate and hopefully getting to the bottom of whatever was going on.
It was as he was starting down the large driveway that he started to second guess himself. It was now after eight. He probably should've phoned ahead. While he knew something was wrong, and while he was 100% sure it had to do with something going on at the Estate, he also knew that most likely Lockwood really had no clue anything was happening.
Suddenly unsure about what to do, he pulled off to the side of the driveway. What did he really think was going to happen if he went and knocked? They'd probably just repeat the same story they'd told the police, and he'd be no further ahead. And even if he pressed, if he pointed out that Claire had heard a dinosaur, and that Maisie had too, there was no reason for them to believe him. Claire had said that Maisie had raised it before, and it had been dismissed. It was unlikely he was going to be able to convince them that he should be allowed to explore the Estate. Especially not if Eli happened to be who he spoke to. In fact, Owen was pretty sure if he pushed, it was more likely that they'd call the police on him.
However, that didn't mean he couldn't look around. It just meant that sometimes it was better to ask for forgiveness instead of asking permission. As it was already after dark, it was the perfect time to try to sneak up on the place. And, based on the timeline of what he thought had happened, Claire had gone missing after she'd gone for a walk outside. Which meant there must be some entrance from the outside to whatever and wherever Eli was hiding.
Feeling confident with his new plan, Owen parked the car well off the road, under some low hanging tree branches. After locking the car, he shoved the keys into his pocket and started forward, sticking to the side of the driveway, and continuing to stay under the cover of the trees. He figured he'd follow the driveway as close as he could, and then move into the trees once he had the Estate in sight to stay hidden. As he tried to walk as silently as possible, Owen realized the one downside to his plan. All he had on him were car keys and his phone. Neither of which would be super helpful if someone caught him.
Why couldn't this have happened on Sorna? Or Nublar? Where at least he'd have access to a gun. And backup.
But, he also knew it wasn't worth dwelling on that. Unless he wanted to wait until tomorrow, there was nothing he could do. He did stop for a minute to try to update Zara on his plan, only to discover that his phone had no signal. Dammit. Well, if he stopped responding to her for long enough, he was pretty sure Zara would panic and probably call the police again.
As he neared the Estate, Owen could see lights on in a few of the upper rooms, but most of the building appeared to be dark except for the outdoor lights that were lit, illuminating the stately building. He stood staring at it for a long moment, debating left or right, before finally heading off to his left. He stayed just within the tree line for a while, before he realized that he needed to get closer to the Estate. He was too far away to see in the windows across the vast grounds, which was not at all helped by the fact that most were dark, and all he could see were reflections of the outdoor lights bouncing off of them.
Owen carefully scanned the building, his gaze lingering on the few windows that were lit up, but he didn't see any movement. Then, taking a deep breath, he sprinted across the yard and over to the closest part of the building. He tucked himself tightly against the wall, and then tried to listen for any new sounds to indicate he'd been detected, although it was hard to hear anything past the blood rush in his ears and the pounding of his own heartbeat.
Once he finally got his breathing back under control and his heart rate had slowed down slightly (he could still feel the adrenaline coursing through him), he started to make his way along the building. It was slow going, as he tried to look in every window, while also trying to stay cognizant of any unusual sounds, and having to sometimes fight with bushes before he could get close enough to peer in.
He'd completed two lengths of wall when he started to think it was a lost cause. That he probably should've waited until morning and then come out and knocked on the door like a normal person. Or even now, that he should go back around to the front and knock, even if it may mean waking people up.
Owen was debating doing just that when he heard something. Quickly flattening himself against the building, his gaze darting side to side, he tried to figure out what had made it. There were a couple of people talking, he realized, but he couldn't quite make out what they were saying, their voices drifting towards him on the wind. Slowly, he continued to creep along the Estate, this time ignoring the windows entirely.
Reaching the edge of the wall, he peaked around the corner and realized he was looking out over what must be the delivery entrance. While there were outdoor lights on the front of the Estate, they had felt much more decorative, equally placed for design as well as security. But here, it felt more utilitarian, the floodlights helping to light up most of the driveway and expose the various garage doors and bays. Scanning the area, Owen saw that there were two people in lab coats, one with a cigarette hanging from his hand, chatting, while sitting on the edge of what looked like a loading bay, their legs dangling over the edge.
Pulling back, he debated what to do. He couldn't really just waltz up to them, but even though he was close, he still couldn't quite make out what they were saying. And, well, while he associated lab coats with scientists, they were also common on doctors and Claire had said that Lockwood wasn't well.
Owen was still considering what to do when he realized he couldn't hear anything anymore, and he carefully peeked back around the corner only to see that the two men had disappeared. Listening intently, he heard the sound of a door closing and he assumed that meant they had both gone back inside.
He'd come there with a purpose, he reminded himself. Claire was likely somewhere in that house. If he wasn't going to go in through the front door, well, then following those two men was probably his best way in. Darting around the corner, he continued to stick close to the building, feeling exposed under the flood lights. When he reached the bay the men had been sitting in, he could see a door at the back, but no sign of either man.
Hoisting himself up, he headed to the door and carefully pulled on the handle, surprised when the door offered no resistance. There was no window in the door, and so he pulled it open a crack, peering in. In front of him was a brightly lit hallway, although it didn't look at all like what he'd been expecting for an Estate. The floor looked to be concrete, and the walls were a utilitarian gray, the overhead lighting made up of simple fluorescent tube lights.
Pulling the door open a bit wider, Owen slipped inside and closed silently behind him before he started to walk down the hallway. He winced when his sneakers squeaked on the floor but he continued forward. He had no idea what he could or would give as an excuse if someone found him, but that was a bridge he'd cross if he had to.
Unfortunately, it turned out that he had to much sooner than he'd expected. He was just reaching the end of the hallway where there was a T intersection, when a person came around the corner, headed straight towards him. There was both no time and nowhere for Owen to even attempt to hide.
"Hey!" The guy shouted upon spotting him. "Who the hell are you?"
"Where's Claire?" was the only thing that Owen could even think of responding with. He didn't get an answer, though. Instead, almost immediately two more guys came around the corner, having been drawn by the first man's shouts. And one of them, from the looks of it, was security. Owen cursed softly, but he stood his ground, repeating his question. "Where's Claire? Just show me where she is!"
"Who?" the first guy finally asked.
"Claire Dearing. She's about yea tall," he lifted his hand to give an approximation, "and has red hair. She's hard to miss."
"What's going on?" A fourth voice joined, but this time Owen actually recognized it and he was unsurprised when Eli Mills rounded the corner, although Eli was clearly surprised to see him.
"You!"
The sight of Eli sent a surge of anger through Owen, and before he even knew what he was doing, he had leapt forward, intent on getting to the man. However, before he could make contact, suddenly his entire body cramped up as he was hit by a taser. The next thing he knew he was withering on the floor, and then someone was pushing their knee into his back and shoving him face down into the concrete.
"Claire!?" he tried to shout her name, but it came out jumbled as he continued to struggle. He kicked out and managed to hit someone, based on the cry of surprise, and he felt the person on his back shift. Taking advantage of the slight change in pressure, Owen pushed up onto his hands and knees, working to dislodge the person completely, before scrambling to his feet and yelling out again, this time successfully. "Claire?!"
Unfortunately, he didn't get a chance to hear if she responded, as someone zapped him a second time with the taser. At the same time he was hit, as someone else (another guard?) tackled him from behind. Between the tackle sending him flying forward and his muscles spasming in response to the tase, Owen was unable to control his movements, and he crashed head first into the wall, slumping to the ground, unconscious.
So, I've got another language question: Have you heard / used the "yea tall" before? Just me?
Also, I'm trying to sort out an epilogue for this story and am also bouncing around some other ideas (related and not). I'm not sure what'll come out of it all (but hopefully something). I've got an unrelated "short" (5 chapter) fic that I'm editing at the moment, so that'll get posted at some point (maybe after PUP). Oh, and I managed to write and post a snapshot on the weekend, so check that out if you haven't.
In the meantime, hope everyone is continuing to take care. The shift towards slow reopening/restarts that is happening here feels almost more nerve wracking than when everything was more on pause. I've got my fingers crossed that we can come out of this safely.