Halstead's back pressed against the nearest tree, and before any of them saw it coming, he crashed down to the ground. It took hearing the ambulance sirens driving away, meaning they got Rixton, for him to crash and slowly start to burn. Kenny was wrong. His mistake may have cost his wife her life. It may have caused for all of Erin's loved ones to be forced to grieve someone they love, meanwhile he was receiving care and treatment. He was medicated, he wasn't in pain and his life was going to be saved, all while they're out here searching for Erin. It isn't fair.
"…maybe," Justin hates to say it but he voices it anyway, "maybe we're too late."
"Until I see a body, I refuse to believe that," Jay affirms. After finding out about everything his wife had been through, everything she has overcome, all that she survived, he promised himself that he'll always watch after her and protect her with every fiber and morsel of his being.
Ash had taken her and he failed her because of that. He won't…he refuses to fail her again. Erin is alive until he is given hard evidence that disproves it. Just that thought alone pushed him forward, had him shoving branches, kicking sticks and sliding around bushes as his eyes zeroed in on every movement in the forest. He could hear Justin and Voight behind him, watching his back as well as taking in their surroundings.
It felt like they've been searching forever yet none of them slowed down. They got lost in the forest and that could potentially mean Erin did too. They just have to hope that them being lost only led them to accidentally stumbling upon her. Justin tries his radio to see if there is any update from the other team, but he's met with static. It seems the tall trees are cutting reception off.
"I'm getting nothing," Justin whispered; his frustration was growing by the second.
Jay tried next, "I got nothing."
Both of them looked at Hank and when he tried and received the same static feedback, they halted their steps. The front of the house is where they had the most reception. If they want to contact the rest of the unit, that was the best place to do it. Yet, that would waste precious time in finding Erin and not to mention, neither of them knew exactly what direction the house was in.
Hank watched as his son and son-in-law came together to try their cell phones. He didn't bother. The height of the trees and the fact that they are in the middle of nowhere meant that cell phone reception was going to suck. It was no point in even trying it. Voight rocked forwards and backwards, running his knuckles along his chin as he tried to figure out a way out of this. There hasn't been a problem he wasn't able to solve, besides finding Ash, but he has to redeem himself for Ash being able to evade him for all those years. He presses his knuckles further against his chin and he starts to rub hard, over and over again until his skin started to feel raw. He wasn't fazed by it, it felt good for something to hurt besides his head and heart for once.
If they didn't find Erin, he'd never forgive himself. How could he? He put a target on her back, he put a target on all of their backs, starting with Camille. Voight looked up at the expansive forest, knowing they've went straight, turned left, turned right and covered so much distance just to not cover much distance at all. Voight holsters his weapon and when he turns around to face Jay and Justin, his shoulders deflate at the look of determination on their faces, they weren't planning to give up anytime soon, "Justin, Halstead," he waits until they look up, "this is my fault."
Voight clenched his fists and rubbed his knuckles up and down the side of his pants leg. He thought he would actually come through for her. He thought he'd find her. But, a lot of time has passed and he has yet to see a sign that she's still alive or that they're closer. His daughter couldn't count on him. Voight bit his bottom lip and no matter how many times Jay has seen him tear up, which was of a rare occasion, he never got used to it. It'll always be an odd sight for him.
"This isn't your fault. You didn't murder tens of people. You didn't kidnap them. You didn't hurt them. None of this is on you," Jay asserted, resting his hand against Hank's shoulder and directing his attention towards him, "You are not responsible for the actions of someone else. I don't blame you," Justin cleared his throat so Jay amended his statement, "I mean we don't blame you and I'm positive regardless of how this pans out, Erin doesn't blame you."
Halstead felt his boss cover his hand with his own and nod in appreciation. No further words were said as they carried on into the woods. It was so easy to reassure someone else but when it came to reassuring himself, it felt next to impossible. Hank seemed to have sensed that because he fell back in step with his son-in-law and whispered, "You know she wouldn't blame you either."
"How can you be so sure? How can you know that?"
"The same way you know she wouldn't blame me," Voight responded, suddenly coming to a stop when he steps on a stick. He continues walking seconds later, "Erin is forgiving. A little bit too forgiving if you ask me but…that's what makes her, her."
Hank knows that from experience, he knows that because of trial and error in being a single father, raising two kids, he knew that from raising a teenager by himself. He made plenty of mistakes, ones that he knows if they were made against him, he wouldn't have been so forgiving, but she never held anything against him. Even when he failed to be understanding, she always did. A fatal flaw he would consider it, but she'd look at it as a gift, as a trait of compassion. He remembers when she was a teenager and he'd been stressed with work, clocking in more hours at the district than he was at home. He remembered feeling guilty because it didn't matter that Erin didn't blame him, he blamed him. He remembered that guilt translating into anger and one day every ingredient lined up to create a recipe of destruction. She was 11 when she was forced to grow up overnight and she was 14 when he was forced to see that and accept that.
Erin is 14 when she gets the urge to run, to leave home and to never look back. Erin is 14 when things in her life start to not look so dull. She has her bad days but she has her good days as well. It's just some of those bad days can be really bad days. Like today, when she's caught skipping school because she doesn't want to draw attention to her hand yet the pain, the shaking, the throbbing that her hand is feeling is going to make it difficult to pretend as if she doesn't feel any of it. How is she supposed to go to physical education today and participate when her hand is ready to give out on her? It'll only bring more attention to it and that's if the teacher believes her.
It would be easier for her to just skip school. She just didn't bank on her dad finding out. He picks her up from Annie's house and the ride home is silent, the only sound comes from the tapping of her dad's fingers against the steering wheel. He hasn't yelled at her yet but she knows that explosion is coming. Erin can only brace herself for impact, and that impact eventually comes the second he slams the front door sending a jolt of fear up her spine.
Her dad is usually mindful of slamming doors and hollering, knowing that with her on edge and her increased anxiety and symptoms of PTSD, things like that can send her into a panic but tonight he didn't care, at least not in this moment. He's fuming. He kicks off his shoes and doesn't even bother lining them up. He tosses his keys onto the nearby table, not even caring that they don't make it into the decorative dish bowl and when Justin stands at the top of the stairs, asking about dinner, he ignores him and sends him back to his room. Apparently, they're starving tonight.
Erin rubbed her temples, preparing for the oncoming verbal attack he'll lay at her feet. She didn't feel like this tonight. He never bothered to understand. He merely assumes.
"Is this the first time you've skipped school?"
There is no point in lying, if he wanted, he could find out the truth, "It's not."
She can hear the sharp inhale when he finds out the truth. She prepares herself, straightening her stance and her posture because he's going to yell, he always yells and most of what she says in rebuttal barely registers, it tends to go in one ear and out of the other.
"Why do you insist on making parenting hard for me? Every time I think I have a grasp on you, you end up pulling some shit like this! It's tiring, Erin. Skipping school, what the hell is wrong with you? I thought I knew you better than that. What do you think your mother would think about you pulling some crap like this? I bet she'd be disappointed just like I am right now."
Hook, link, and sinker. Her dad sure knows how to hit below the belt.
"Do you hear yourself?" She retorts, head recoiling back in a scoff, "You can't even bother to ask me what's going on! You said you thought you knew me better than that but you barely know me at all. If it's not like me to skip school then there must be a bigger issue going on and you can't even bother to find out what it is! Dad, I get being a parent isn't your greatest strength but at least try, that's all I ask. You staying at work and sending people from the district to check in on me and Justin is not even doing the bare minimum. You only know I skipped school because the school called you, otherwise you would have had no idea."
Hank bites the inside of his cheek before crossing his arms over his chest, "Why'd you skip school then?" He looks properly scolded but at the same time asking to appease her rather than because he actually cared. He doesn't care about why she skipped school; he just cares that she did it.
"My hand," she admits, drawing it closer to her chest, "I don't know what's wrong with it now but the pain sometimes feels worse. I didn't go into school wanting to skip but then PE came and the pain became unbearable and I went to the nurse's office and she said she's not allowed to give medication to minors and I need your approval so I called you three times," he knows that to be true because on his way to pick her up, he saw the missed calls, "and you didn't answer, I told her about my hand but she needed a parent's note and because I didn't have one, she sent me back to class. I didn't want to skip but no note from my dad or from the nurse meant I wasn't excused from class and I knew if I tried to participate, the pain will only get worse and it'd bring attention to myself. I don't want attention for that! I really don't…so I didn't stay, I left because they're just going to stare or tease me and," she pauses and swallows, "I'm not strong enough for that."
He releases the pressure his teeth had on the inside of his cheek. He dropped his arms to his sides and he straightened his posture and relaxed his shoulders. He didn't expect that answer. He didn't expect that admittance. He took a step forward and a frown covered his face when she took a step back, "Dad, I know you've been through so much. I know it's hard to see me and Jus sad too so I try not to show you everything because I know you're hurting too and work helps you with that but just because you don't see it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. Justin and I are hurting really bad dad and there's only so much I can handle. My therapist is working with me on identifying my triggers and this," she holds up her hand so he can see the dark scar, "is a trigger for me, every single time I'm reminded of this, I feel horrible and I know myself enough to know that I can't handle that. If they want to tease me, it can be about anything," her bottom lip trembles, "just not this."
Erin turns, prepared to run up the staircase but her dad's sudden outburst halts her mid-step.
"I'm sorry," it's not often her dad apologizes but when he does, it makes her appreciate the apology so much more, "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. You…you didn't deserve it and I can throw out excuses but they don't mean much," he tucks all his fingers -besides his thumb- into his front jeans pocket, "Parenting is hard kid, and that's no excuse, but there are some moments of parenting that makes the job difficult, especially if you do it solo," he wraps his arms around her thin shoulders and draws her further into his embrace, "I should have kept the volume up on my phone. I should have responded. That's on me. And I'll get a note from your doctor for you to use in the future. That's on me too," she doesn't expect him to be so forthcoming in his thinking and expression of himself but it seems in the years since her mother's death, he has been listening and he has been changing for the better, "I'm sorry kid. I know it doesn't mean much right now but I really am sorry. I know your childhood was robbed from you. I know you were forced to grow up fast and I want to be patient with you Erin, I just need you to be patient with me too."
With tears steadily falling from her eyes, she looks up at him and nods, "Okay," she doesn't know when the tears started if she's being honest but now that they're falling, it's no way to stop them.
Erin channeled that memory, drawing one in that reflected her growing relationship with her father instead of a memory involving her brother or husband. She needed something that would fuel her up, not an emotion that may lead her astray, not one that she may find solace in staying in. She blinked through the tears, some of them falling over the memory and some of them falling because of the pain in her shoulder. She saw Will's hands gently stretch the fabric of her collar to take a better look at her wound, "Ouch, that looks nasty," her face scrunched together when he dabbed around the injury with a cloth, "there's been no dressing applied so it hasn't clotted yet. I'm going to do a tourniquet and it's going to hurt like hell but we need to seal this wound to give your body a chance to let it clot. I'll apply pressure over the tourniquet too, it's a bit unorthodox but I don't have a commercial tourniquet and improvised versions usually fail so we have to get creative."
"Why," she licks her dry lips and tries to talk again, "why can't we do direct pressure only?"
Will starts to create an improvised version that he already knows from his training won't last as long as a commercial one will, "because there is a high probability that direct pressure can't be maintained, we don't want the slip of a hand or a tired arm to be the reason you bleed out."
She knows this, but honestly, she probably wouldn't be able to read a simple sentence or answer an elementary school math problem right now. His face is red and flushed and he's sweating as he makes an attempt to apply pressure to the wound, "From the looks of your nursing scrubs, I can tell you've already lost a lot of blood. Any more than that is dangerous and deadly," she nearly screams when pressure is applied against the nearest artery, "hold this down while I finish throwing something together to create a tourniquet."
"What did you do?" She sounds groggy but it doesn't stop her from doing as he instructed. Her grip against the dressing isn't as hard as his but it wasn't out of intention, it was strictly due to weakness as a result of blood loss.
"I applied pressure above the wound on the artery hoping it'll slow down or stop the blood flow to the wound. It's temporary; it's just to buy me more time to finish this improvised tourniquet."
Will finds a tie in the closet. His head whips side to side, up and down in search of another object he needs, "Al, do you have a carabiner, a stick, a pocket knife or something?"
"I have a pocket knife," Al enthused since he could finally help with something. He reaches into his back pocket, withdraws it and hands it over to Will, "I'm going to try and make contact with the team. I'm sure they're dying to know that we have Erin in our custody."
Will doesn't answer; he simply nods. His mind was otherwise occupied. He now needs something to secure it. He thinks quick on his feet, looking around the room he's in, knowing that there should be something to do just that. He rushes over to a nearby drawer, pulling it out and throwing things outside of it to find anything that can be used to secure the tourniquet, even if only briefly.
The first location he checks turns up nothing, the second location turns up nothing, but when he glanced over to the end table, opening that drawer, he finds a few hair ties. They look cheap but it's better than nothing. He grabs one and races over, "Hey Erin," he tries to spark up a conversation, "let me check that," he removes her hand from the dressing and slowly lifts the cloth, "it didn't stop much but it definitely slowed down," he took in her face, noticing how she's steadily blinking probably trying to keep her eyes open, "have you been shot anywhere else?"
"No," she says while simultaneously clearing her throat.
When he started applying the tourniquet to her arm, he could already tell it wasn't going to last. It's not stable enough, but at least it's something, it's better than nothing. As he wrapped it around, she groaned, as he tightened it, she screamed and if the sirens didn't alert Ash to her presence, that scream sure did. Will wanted to relieve pressure but he knew he couldn't, "I'm sorry," he tightened it more and she whimpered, "Shit Erin, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," she whispered to reassure him. She knows he's only trying to help her. Will finishes and releases his grip and notices it shift and loosen by a few inches. That isn't good. It needs to be tight but the stupid hair tie is of no good. But, it's going to have to do.
Al presses down on the button of his radio attached to his shoulder and all they hear is static. It's loud, it's crackling, it's constant and it fills the bedroom. Even with the static, Al tries to talk through it, knowing the low probability that anyone on the receiving end will hear him. He doesn't want them to panic so he steps out into the hall to continue trying to radio in to the rest of the team. Silence couldn't be good; it could mean that Ash had found them, he could have hurt them, could have offed them and Al didn't want Erin or Will spiraling down that rabbit hole.
He steadily tried, over and over again, but when he received only static in response, he ditched the radio and reached into his pocket for his cell. He dialed Voight and received no answer. He tried Justin then Jay and then other members of the team and didn't receive an answer from any of them. It wasn't too surprising; it was kind of expected. They're in the forest searching for a serial killer, of course their cells will be silenced, just like their radio volume is probably lowered. Al keeps silent on that, not wanting to cause a panic. He simply steps back into the bedroom and looks at Will folding up a pillowcase before applying pressure to Erin's exit wound since it's the largest.
It's possible that if he went outside, he'd find a better connection because the one offered inside of the house is messed up. He needs a connection and he needs to keep Erin and Will safe and staying here isn't going to help him with either. Al rushed over and grabbed another pillow to pull outside of the case and with Will's direction, he folded it up and applied pressure to the entrance wound behind Erin's shoulder. Al bit his bottom lip as he was forced to think quickly on his feet, "This room offers crappy signal," he admits because the truth is the best option right now, "I need to go outside, I may get a better one."
"I think we should stay in here," Will says, gently pulling some of the fabric down and lifting the pillowcase to see if the bleeding had slowed, "Erin's in pretty bad shape. I need to look at each of her wounds, clean them and wrap them up to make sure they don't get infected or aren't infected already, she's been running through the woods, exposing an opened wound to who knows what, we need to stay in here, clean the wound and stop the bleeding. She's already lost too much blood."
Erin was in and out of focus. She could hear them talking but she wasn't paying attention to anything they were saying. She could make out a word every now and then but her main focus was on the pain shooting up her side. She bit her lip when Al applied harder pressure as he tried to make his point, "I need to keep eyes on both of you and reach out for help. You're going to have to try and help her in the back of the truck. It's plenty of room for that."
"You don't get it, Al. She is going to go into hypovolemic shock if I do not stop the bleeding. To break it down for you, that's not a good thing. It can be caused by bleeding from an injury, that's just one way and that way is what Erin has right now, the amount of circulating blood in her body can drop if and when she loses too much body fluid from other causes like excessive perspiration and look at her forehead," Al chances a look up to see the sweat pooling across her face despite the low temperature outside, "and there is no telling how long she has been sweating like this. That's an early sign, and look," Will reaches for her hand, lifting it up to show the tips of her fingers, "her skin is clammy and it's cool to the touch, she's in and out of focus right now, she can still talk and walk and do shit like that but if I don't stop this bleeding, it's going to get worse."
"I am not to leave either of you alone," Al states adamantly; he leaves no room for argument, his decision will win out if it's the last thing he does, "we move you and her to the truck for safekeeping and you check over her there. Ash knows that help is here. It's no way he didn't hear those ambulance sirens. He's probably on his way to the house as we speak."
That thought suddenly reminds Will to whisper to Al to call for another ambulance. Olinsky makes the call and remembers to tell the dispatcher to caution the paramedics about the scene in which they are responding to, along with ensuring they were aware of the killer that is on the loose. With strict instructions to not get out of their vehicle when they arrive, the dispatcher hung up and ensured them that further help and assistance was on the way.
"She can't die," Will whispers, tossing the drenched with blood pillow case off to the side before going to one of the dressers, pulling out the drawer and grabbing a t-shirt to apply to the wound next, "she can't."
"…she won't," Al asserts despite the fact that he isn't a doctor and has no medical training, "Will, when does it become dangerous? What are the signs of it becoming critical?"
"Steady blood loss is already dangerous," Will snapped because it's like all of his words are going in one ear and out of the other, "a gunshot to anywhere on the body is critical because there are risks of blood loss, infection, septic shock and so much more. But for this, for hypovolemic shock, the second she starts drifting in and out of consciousness, rapid breathing, weakness, moist skin, sweating more heavily, feeling colder to the touch and pale all over, including her lips, that's when she needs a hospital, but we don't want it to get to that point. We have to stop it now."
"…and we will," Al states and for a second Will thinks he's won out until Al finishes, "in the car."
Erin felt one of Will's arms go around her waist to aid in her walk as Olinsky led the way. For what she hopes is the last time, she takes one last look around the room. A lone tear prickles the corner of her eye and she does nothing to stop it from falling. Will notices.
"Are you okay?" Will tries to nudge her to move forward but she hesitates.
"He kept us in here."
He refocuses his grip to ease more of the pressure off of her, "…and you never have to come back here, I promise you," he sees Al wave them to move forward and they follow. Not as fast as Al would want them to come, but they still follow and manage to keep up. Olinsky has his weapon drawn and he tiptoes through the old house, listening out for any unknown sounds. As Erin was guided down the hall, her eyes focused on the family photos lining the hallway walls and when her gaze lands on a photo of Ivy, another lone tear escapes and follows the direct path as the last one. Erin needed to get out of this house. She couldn't remain in the place that has seen so much death, pain and destruction. She needed to get as far from this place as possible.
And even if stepping out onto the porch didn't put much distance between her and that room, the fresh air did wonders for her mental state. The breeze that blew through the forest, through her hair and through her mind allowed for her take a deep breath, to calm her racing heart and clear her muddled mind to remind herself that help was here, her family was here, they actually found her. She takes a moment to peer up into the darkened sky and then over to the forest she had spent time running through before looking over at her brother-in-law, "How long have they been out there?"
It doesn't go unnoticed that her question isn't answered when Al rushes them along, muttering low but ensuring no one else could overhear, "It's not safe for us to be out here," Olinsky waves in an effort to rush them forward, "Let's get you both in the car and then we'll make contact with the rest of the team and figure things out from there." Her ankle nearly had her toppling over with her next step but Al managed to hold her up when she nearly slipped from Will's embrace.
"Thank you, Al," Erin managed to whimper out when she accidentally put more pressure on her wounded ankle than intended. He simply provided her with a smile and then led them to the truck.
Erin stood on her good leg as the other foot was held up above the ground, bent at the knee. She leaned into Will's arm as he opened the backdoor for her, "Get in," he encouraged, pushing her head down and easing her into the backseat, "gentle, gentle," he repeatedly whispered until she was seated inside with only her legs out, "do not loosen pressure on that wound, Erin." He eased her good foot in and then her bad foot before shutting the door and racing around to the other side.
She knew he was getting in. She knew Olinsky was getting into the front seat, but the sound of the front door slamming shut followed by the backseat door closing nearly made her jump out of her skin. She was unnerved. She was on edge. And it took Will reaching his hand out to pat her shoulder for her arms to untense and loosen, "How's your foot doing?"
"I don't know," she whispered. He's no foot doctor but he's the only doctor they have right now. She knows he wants to look at it based on how his eyes keep averting to the floor of the truck where it rests but right now, she's crashing, she's emotionally falling. She takes a moment to gather herself, to snap out of all of it so she can focus on the damage done to her body.
But it seems outside of Ash, her body was her biggest opponent right now. It was fighting for her and fighting against her. The tips of her fingers turned clammy; her shoulders shook because of the chill that ripped through her body despite the sweat beading and dripping down her forehead.
Every parcel of adrenaline was gone from her body and she was left feeling every excruciating ounce of pain. She moved her shoulder around, the tourniquet that Will tied around her opened wound shifted, forcing Erin to bite down upon her bottom lip to suppress the groan she wanted to release. She leans her head forward, pressing her forehead against the back of the front seat as she counts down the time to when more help will arrive. She needs help, she needs pain medication, she needs a hospital. Erin cleared her throat and leaned back, hoping that the readjustment will help the throbbing in her shoulder, "Will, what's the damage?" She's referring to her ankle after he lifted her leg to set her foot down on his lap.
"It's swollen pretty bad," he shifts her foot to inspect the other side, "but there's nothing we can do about it right now. You just need to stay off of it. Avoid anything that can cause more pain, swelling or discomfort. It needs to be iced and then compressed to stop the swelling but for right now I'll keep it on my lap so it can be elevated. I'm more so concerned about the gunshot wound than anything else. I'm thinking about the risk of infection."
Erin is no longer listening to him. She zoned out; her gaze focused out of the back window when she spots the movement of a nearby bush. She sits up straight, prepared to warn Will and Al of trouble when the shift in the trees end up being caused by her dad. The ghost of a smile covers her face and she swallows before pulling her foot off Will's lap. She sees the arrival of Justin next and she reaches for the door, one track mind, one focus and one goal set and the need to get to her family is great and doubles the second she sees Jay appear.
Her hand shakes, it steadily shakes as she reaches for the handle of the door and pushes it open. She ignores the feeling of Will's hand around her wrist, tugging her, reminding her to stay put until this is all resolved but she's made up her mind. It's been a little over four days and she hasn't seen them. She thought she'd never see them again. There's no way in hell anyone or anything is going to keep her in this car and out of Jay's arms. She pushes the door open and she steps one foot out just as the sound of her dad's voice finds her ears, "We went in a fucking circle."
He doesn't sound happy but he hasn't seen her yet. She hears her brother speak next, "I'll radio for updates from the rest of the team. I'll request for them to get back here too."
"We have to go back out there," Jay says desperately, "We haven't called out for her. Screw if Ash hears, if it means we can lay eyes on her, we can find her, it's worth the risk."
The radio crackles. And her hand continues to shake unsteadily. The second both of her feet are planted on the ground; she wobbles and nearly topples over. Her balance is uneven and she's afraid that if she lets go of the door, she'll fall over. So, she remains in place for right now. Erin clears her throat, tears filling her eyes and making her vision blurry, "Jay," her voice is so low that the sound of nature masks it, "I'm okay." They can't hear her. They don't see her. It's too dark and she needs to take a few steps to get around Ash's car parked next to the truck she was in.
Erin was taking slow steps, weary steps, practically dragging her feet forward and Will didn't want to leave the car, but watching Erin attempt to walk worried him. He knew not to call out names, for fear that it'll alert Ash, but nothing stopped him from taking one last look at the seat she vacated before sliding over and stepping out of the car on the side she exited. He heard Al whispering his name, ordering for him to get back and he doesn't care if his orders were to protect him, Erin was out there, trying to get the attention of her husband.
"Hey," Will called out; he was close enough to whisper and get her attention.
And his voice startled her, she didn't expect to hear him and when she turned around to see him get out of the car, her eyes widened, "No," she held both of her hands out towards him, "stay in the car, just in case he comes back, both of us don't need to be in danger." Her defining features still shone through her injured state despite the paling in her cheeks and the sunken look surrounding her eyes. She had confidence in her ability despite her body's best efforts to hold her back.
If she can just get into their line of sight, then they'll run to her, they'll get to her. She couldn't wait. Even with the adrenaline worn completely off and even with her being able to feel every ache of pain in every step she took forward, she couldn't wait. She knew that's what Al and Will were planning to do but she hasn't seen them in days, she thought she was never going to ever see them again. Who could blame her for allowing emotion to make the decision to abandon the safety of the car? Who could fault her for wanting to hold her family after days spent apart, after time spent reminiscing and moments spent hallucinating? In the grand scheme of things, this may not have been the wisest decision she's ever made, but when she finally gets around the car and limps into their line of vision, for that one moment, she thinks it was all worth it, just by the look on their face, by the watering eyes, the agape mouths, the stumbling steps forward and Jay's whispered "please tell me I'm not seeing things," she knows she made the right decision. At least for that moment she thought she did because in the next, the confidence she had in that decision turned into regret when a hand suddenly covered her mouth.
Based on the reaction of her dad, brother and husband, she knew this couldn't be good. The look in Jay's eyes told her enough. And she swallowed when the fear permeated her body. Her body was pulled backwards causing the back of her to slam into the front of him. He pulled her arms to her sides, forcing her to drop the folded pillowcase she held against her shoulder. He lowers his mouth to hover near her ear and whispers, "I finally found you," as the already bloodied knife is swiftly brought up and pressed against the artery in her neck, "I wouldn't move another inch if I were you, Erin. Just one cut to the carotid and you'll be dead before you hit the ground."
Ash looks up and settles his chin against her shoulder as the remaining team members returned. He moved the two of them to the side because he didn't want anyone behind him. He moved them until his back was flushed against his vehicle and not once during the relocation did he drop or loosen his hold around the knife. He nods for Will to join his brother. He nods for Olinsky -who had jumped out of the trunk when Ash initially grabbed Erin- to do the same. His back was covered and when one of them made an attempt to raise their weapon, he pressed the heel of his hand into the exit wound, earning an excruciating scream of pain, "Another move and I'll stick my fingers in it next," he cackles. The smile on his face is manic, his eyes are opened wide and his face is flushed for whatever reason, either because of his search through the woods, the injury to his hand or just pure excitement, "Wow," suddenly her question is answered by his next statement, "It feels like I'm in the presence of a celebrity. This night just got a whole lot better. I have to say Hank," that name slithers out of his voice in an effort to taunt her father, "it's nice to finally meet face to face. It has been a long time coming."