Thomas ran.
He stumbled and slipped but he didn't stop. He couldn't. The sound of the gunshot was still echoing in his head, on repeat. He couldn't stop his worry. Who was it? Only one shot, not two or three. Who? David? Chris?...Richard? Someone else? He didn't feel the water splash into his shoes as he ran through muddy puddles. He never noticed the brambles catch and pull at his clothing, tearing at his skin as he ran directly in the direction he thought that dreaded sound radiated from. He must have been breathing frantically as his throat was burning, but he didn't notice he was breathing at all. Everything was moving so fast but at the same time, all too slow.
He didn't know where he was going. Panic was driving him now. What if we were too late? It was growing darker by the second and the trees all started to look the same, twisting and whirling in his vision as he tried to slow his mind so he could try to think logically. The sound had guided him at first but now he was second guessing his direction.
He stopped.
Bent over, hands on his knees, he tried to breathe easier, but even though he was able to rescue his breath from physical exhaustion, he couldn't save it from the frantic worry in his mind. A drip of water ran off his nose and fell onto the muddy ground below him and for a moment he was back in France in 1916. He brushed it off, unsure and uncaring whether it was rain or sweat. Doesn't matter.
There was a burst of movement ahead of him, the crunch of pine needles under a running person's feet. Thomas's breath hitched. Running away? Yes, the sound is fainter now. He looked ahead of him and switched on his torch just in time to see the figure of a man running back into the part of the woods that were thicker, more densely overgrown. It was too dark to see his face, but Thomas knew it wasn't Richard or David. Nor was it Chris, as he couldn't run that fast. That drew Thomas to the awful conclusion that he just saw the man from Liverpool, as he was known to him. He didn't know a name. Thomas flashed the beam from his torch around him, trying to see if David was close by. Was the man running to him or away from him? Why would he run away though? Unless— Thomas stepped forward, as he looked around he could see he had reached some sort of clearing. Maybe he had been here before? Perhaps if it was day time then he would recognise it? He had been out here so many times.
His torch was no match for the enveloping darkness, accelerated by the pine trees shielding any remaining light from above. He stepped further forward. He thought he heard something in the darkness. Talking. Someone else is here. He looked around again and then he saw that he was right. Ahead of him about two hundred yards maybe was David and Richard, both still alive. He gasped as he breathed out again, for what felt like the first time in ages. He was not sure why David and Richard were both pushing themselves up off the ground, nor did he know why Richard had both his hands on David's shoulders as he stood. "Richard," Thomas said mainly to himself, but loud enough for them to both hear him. Richard had his back to him. David's eyes met Thomas's in the torchlight. His friend's eyes did not have their usual sparkle. They looked frightened. Richard still hadn't turned around. Maybe he didn't hear me? "Richard," he called out again. Thomas was no longer feeling relieved. David hadn't spoken either. He was looking at Richard in horror. Richard still hadn't answered. Thomas walked faster towards them. He was just about to ask if they were okay, the words hanging there in the air in his lungs, when he saw Richard fall. He sank to his knees, like a pebble to the bottom of a lake. David was the only reason he didn't fall entirely.
Thomas saw it now, with horrific clarity. The events he missed as he was running through the wrong part of the woods. It played out in his mind. Scenarios. Possibilities. He couldn't know for sure but there all ended with his worst nightmare. The shot hit Richard, my Richard. No, no. No please not him! Thomas heard a voice like his scream.
"Richard!" He slipped as he bolted forward. A fraction of a moment later he had dropped his torch uncaringly to the ground so it shot a beam of light unhelpfully at the base of the tree Richard had collapsed against. Thomas knew eyes must have been manic with panic as he couldn't see clearly, his thoughts were incomprehensible. He gathered Richard into his arms and laid him back carefully so he didn't sustain any further injury. He smoothed the hair out of Richard's eyes with his finger. "I'm here, I'm here. I found you." Thomas didn't notice David pick up the torch, he didn't question where the source of light that now cast shadows over Richard's body was coming from. It didn't matter. He didn't want to look. He had seen injuries like this in their hundreds before, or worse, he had felt men breathe their final breath in situations all too similar to this one. But he had to look, he had to know how bad it was. He felt it on his hand at first. Warm and sticky. Too much blood, too much. N-n-no. Richard tried to push himself up, but let out a painful wince that stopped his attempts. "No my love, don't move." Thomas stroked his head with the intention of comforting them both perhaps?
"H-how bad is it?" Richard's voice was weak and lacking his usual confidence. He sounded scared as his voice shook.
Thomas took his attention away from Richard just for a moment to look up at David who was standing helplessly watching the dire situation unfold in front of him. "David, go. Please. Go get help." Thomas heard Richard cough and then he couldn't concentrate. He couldn't ignore the contrast in the warmth of Richard's blood that was all over his hands and his clothing, and the icy chill that he could feel on the rest of him. "Downton, go to Downton. It's closest. Don't stop. Please run." Thomas knew what David was thinking when he saw a fleeting moment of hesitation in his friend's eyes. The man who did this was still out there and wouldn't hesitate to get the job he came to Downton to do, done. But the moment was fleeting.
"Okay. Tommy, he'll be fine." With those last words, David turned and ran off into the darkness, leaving them both alone.
"So it is bad then, ha ha, I didn't get lucky then?" Richard's laugh was his best attempt at easing Thomas's own fear, but it was lost on Thomas.
"No, no. Richard, you're, you're going to be fine. I won't let anything happen to you. I can't. Why, though? Why did he shoot you?"
"He didn't mean to. It was me. I-I'm sorry. I couldn't just do nothing." Richard coughed again and now Thomas was concerned that the bullet had punctured his lung. The shot had hit him in the chest, and Thomas couldn't tell in the darkness how close it was to his heart. "Ah! Richard cried out.
"Don't move please. I don't...The bullet is still in you, I don't know how close it is to your heart." Thomas's voice was a whisper, a shadow of what it normally would be.
"I pushed him out the way. Got hit instead—ah!" Richard winced again as his breathing stuttered. "He didn't deserve this."
"Neither did you, you idiot."
Richard let out a feeble laugh which was interrupted by another painful groan. "I pity those men under your care Mr Barrow. Your bedside manner is terrible!"
"I'm sorry." Thomas couldn't react to Richard's joke. How can you laugh now? Even now you try to make me feel better.
"We should be at home, in bed. Wilde is gonna wonder where we are."
"We'll get home, I promise."
Richard closed his eyes briefly as he spoke. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"I will because we can. I'll get you home. You'll be okay. You, you have to be." Thomas saw Richard close his eyes again. "No! Don't do that!" he shouted.
"What?"
"Keep looking at me please. Don't close your eyes, promise me?"
"I'll try." Richard's voice sounded fainter than before. Thomas kissed his cool cheek, praying to every God out there that David would get help in time.
...
David ran hard, jumping over fallen tree logs that blocked his way, pushing tree branches out of his way with an outstretched hand before he reached them so they wouldn't slow him down. He had slipped twice but pushed himself back up, determined not to let his past mistakes at trusting Martin Lee cost his best friend the man he loved. He knew Martin was still out there. He had honestly expected him to shoot them both, but perhaps it was Thomas's abrupt arrival that saved him? He wouldn't know, but despite the guilt he felt that drove his speed further as he bolted through the night, he knew he should be grateful. Not just that he was alive, but that he had the chance to save Richard now too. If they had both been hit, his chances would be a lot worse. He couldn't let himself get distracted by every sound from the woods surrounding him. Even if Martin appeared right now in front of him, he would have to push him aside and carry on. He couldn't let Thomas live without Richard by his side. As for himself, he would never survive the guilt of being the one who got away. As a child he had always been agile, quick on his feet and he was hoping that he hadn't lost that ability now. His friend's life may depend on it.
...
Chris couldn't block out the sound of the gunshot from his mind. He hated not knowing what that was and thanks to his stupid leg he couldn't rush to find the answer either. It was dark now and he could only estimate where the sound had come from and how far away he was from its origin. It was possible, he told himself, that the sound was nothing more than a farmer shooting at a fox, but knowing there was a most likely armed man out in the same area, was too much of a coincidence to be possible. He kept on stopping, listening for any sounds that might indicate where either Thomas, Richard or David were, or indeed where the man from Liverpool was. The dark can play tricks on the mind, sounds that are innocent become threatening. Nothing is as it seems when the sense of sight is impaired. In France, he had stalked men through woodland not too different in appearance to this, taking them down one by one. But it was different then. He had back up and a weapon. Now, he had neither.
Suddenly, and apparently out of nowhere, he heard the frantic sound of running coming along the path towards him. He ducked behind a tree trunk. If it was David's stalker then hopefully he would just pass him by. He hated hiding in the dark like a coward, but he was no match for an able bodied man, especially one who is as determined as this. If he had his strength and two good legs he would love nothing more than to take him down for what he has done or planned to do to David. The footsteps slowed ahead of him. Whoever it was...had stopped. Chris held his breath and cursed his leg once again for making too much noise as he hid behind the tree. The person walked slowly towards his hiding place. Step by step, cautiously. Chris clenched his fist. A well placed surprised punch to the centre of the chest could wind someone long enough for him to get away, maybe even disarm him? The person had stopped on the other side of the tree. He could hear his breathing, heavy from running. He needed the element of surprise. It was his only advantage, so he had to make the first move. He whirled around the side of the tree and landed a well placed punch to the man's chest.
"Oof!" The man cried out and fell to the ground with a thud.
Chris's eyes widened as he recognised his voice. "David?" He switched on his torch and saw David on the floor at his feet, gasping.
"Chris? What are you doing?" David pushed himself up on his hands.
"I thought you were someone else," Chris offered David his hand to pull him up.
"Who? Martin?"
"So that's his name. Yeah him. Are you okay? I'm sorry."
"I'm fine, don't worry. You did the right thing. I could have been him."
Chris then felt the relief rush over him and he pulled David into an unexpected hug. "We were looking everywhere for you. When you didn't show up earlier this evening I panicked." He spoke into David's shoulder, savouring his closeness and allowed himself a brief moment of shutting his eyes and only focusing on him. "I am very glad to see you. But why were you running?" He pulled back from the hug and he saw David's pained expression. "What is it?"
"Martin got to me...to us. I've got to go Chris. I need to get to Downton before..." David ran his hand through his hair with worry. "...I need to get help."
Chris felt himself go weak. "Thomas?" he asked, his voice barely audible as though he didn't want to ask it.
David shook his head. "Richard. He was with me when Martin showed up. Richard saved me. Martin shot me but Richard pushed me out of the way at the last moment. Thomas then showed up not long after and Martin ran off."
Guilt flew through Chris when the relief that Thomas was okay filled him. "Richard? Is, is he?"
"He was alive when I left him, but he was losing a lot of blood and I...Chris I have to go."
Chris nodded, the urgency clear in David's voice. "Go okay, I'll find them."
David shook his head. "No. Don't." Chris felt confused and it must have shown as David then began to explain. "I need you to do something else. You can refuse, I'd understand if you do. Martin is still out there and as long as he is then he is a danger to everyone, not just me. He cannot be allowed to get to the village Chris. Not only is he armed but he will be angry that I got away. If he reaches the village then he will disappear. He is good at that. He will get the next train out of Downton and we will lose him. But he will come back again for me, I know it. But he can't get away, no matter what happens to Richard, we can't let that happen."
"You want me to stop him?" Chris asked in disbelief. He really didn't see how he could be of much use.
"I do, yes. I'm sorry I know it's a lot to ask."
"You know that I would never stand a chance at catching him up, let alone apprehending him. I don't think I could. As much as I hate them, I think the police would be better at that. They could send a search out with dogs."
"You caught me out with your fist didn't you? But anyway you don't need to catch him. You just need to find him and keep him in sight until the police show up here. I will get to Downton and telephone and tell them which part of the woods to search, if you can keep him in the woods until then." David stepped closer to him. The clouds parted above the trees briefly illuminating them in the light of a full moon. "You told me about your skills once, about how you have a gun hidden in your home. You wanted there to be a reason for them, something that would allow you to use them for good. Maybe this is it?"
"You want me to kill him?" Chris asked plainly.
"No, no I could not ask that of you. I know you could if you wanted too, but that would not help things. Just use it if you have too. I know this is all a bit too much-"
"I'll do it David. If Richard...Martin won't get away okay? Now you should go, David." Chris felt the firmness in his voice, he was trying to process what he must do now. He never wanted to be that person again, but David was right. This way he could be useful. Bad skills for good reasons? If there could ever be a good reason. "You look after yourself okay? Don't stop until you get to Downton."
"Same with you, don't take any chances okay? I can't risk losing you." David pulled him close and Chris felt his breath on his face as he spoke.
Chris smiled knowingly. "No. I believe you said that before." They kissed, briefly as neither one could waste time, but fiercely. "Go okay? I'll meet you at Downton later."
David nodded and ran off into the dark once more. Chris sighed and looked around him. Silence. Just the wind up in the tops of the trees. "Where would I go if I had just shot someone?" he said out loud to himself. "Ditch the weapon first. Not the river, too shallow right now." Chris nodded slowly to himself as he made an educated guess as to where Martin would go before getting to the village. Chris thought for a moment. He needed a weapon. He was not too far from home, if he could get there soon and find it he could still stop him. He was at a disadvantage with speed, but Martin didn't even know the right road to Downton so he would not know the woods. That, he could use to his advantage.
...
"Oh I give up!" Stephen exclaimed as Charlotte smiled smugly on the opposite side of the table in the servants hall at Downton. Daniel laughed. He was sitting in the rocking chair that Stephen had said was where Mr Barrow always sat, but since Mr Barrow had left early, it had been vacant and so Daniel had no reason why he shouldn't sit in it. He had been watching yet another rematch of a chess match between Stephen and the housemaid, Charlotte who was now undefeated seven times in a row.
"Oh don't, we still have all evening left Stephen. I'm not going upstairs to my room yet," Charlotte complained.
"Yeah well I am not going to be beaten again. I admit defeat Charlotte," Stephen said, pushing his chair back and standing up.
"Fancy a game Mr Jones?" Charlotte asked him, a mischievous look in her eyes brought on by the confidence gained from winning frequently at the game.
Daniel did have a good deal of time to kill. According to everyone else present, except for Stephen, he was here for the evening and would then head back home later on. However, he had no intention of leaving until the morning. He would be out of Downton Abbey before the maids got up to light the fires, but he would be staying with Stephen until then. They had done this many times before. They would pretend to be so engaged in a game of cards or such, that they would be the last ones left in the servants hall as everyone else would have either gone home or to bed, but then he would sneak upstairs with Stephen. "I like a challenge Charlotte so yes, I'll play. You can call be Daniel if you like, since you two address each other by your Christain names?"
Charlotte smiled at him. "Perfect, hope you're up for it Daniel." Stephen had swapped places with him, and now occupied Mr Barrow's chair.
A breeze of wind disturbed some papers on the other end of the table from them as the back door opened and shut again. Andy walked in, taking his hat off. "Evening everyone."
"Good evening Andy," Phyllis greeted him, sitting at the far end of the table.
"Daisy around?" he asked.
"Oh hello Andy," Mrs Hughes said walking into the room also. "Would you like some tea? Sounds like it is blowing up a storm out there."
"I would normally, but I can't stay. I just came by to walk Daisy home. Wind is getting up though yes, not much in the way of rain yet though."
"You didn't need to come all the way out here for me," Daisy said, she smiled as Andy kissed her. Daniel felt a pang of jealousy, he wanted to greet Stephen like that too, but he couldn't.
"And what kind of man would I be if I didn't make sure you got home safely?"
"I've gone back by myself many times and had no trouble. Is this about the person Mr Tomlinson came to see you about earlier today? I'm sure there was a reasonable explanation."
"Maybe, but that man did come to the farm asking about Mr Mortimer like Mr Tomlinson said he would. I denied any knowledge of him like he told me too, but I don't know how convincing I was. So I thought it was best to be on the safe side and walk you home."
Charlotte stopped arranging the pieces on the chessboard for a moment. "I agree with Andy Daisy, he gave me a bad feeling. He was looking at me too much. I didn't like it."
"What has he got to do with David, I mean, Mr Mortimer though?" Daniel asked.
"Something about some bad business between them in the past. I reckon he's come to settle some old score with him," Andy replied. "Not sure what though, but apparently David has vanished. He left the farm earlier this evening and hasn't been seen since."
"Maybe he's gone to the pub with Mr Webster?" Daisy suggested as she put her coat on. "They're friends aren't they?"
Daniel was careful not to meet Stephen's glance at him that he felt in case it gave anything away. They both knew the truth about Mr Webster and Mr Mortimer. "Yeah they are, suppose they could be there. I don't know."
"Well whatever it is, I'm sure it can wait until morning. You two should be getting home, it's getting late," Mrs Hughes prompted.
Andy smiled, "We should, good night everyone."
But before Daniel or anyone else had a chance to reply, there was a bang followed by a gust of wind that blew Mr Bates's newspaper off the table as the back door flew open. A rush of running heavy footsteps took no time to reach them and in the doorway to the servants hall appeared David Mortimer, red faced and gasping. Daniels' plan of action for beating Charlotte was forgotten as everyone turned their attention to David. David was never the tidiest of people, but he looked extremely disheveled. His hair was wet and contained a few leaves or splatters of mud, Daniel couldn't be sure. His shoes were brown from mud which was also splattered up his legs. His shirt had rips in it and more worryingly there was a red stain on the white fabric. Daniel glanced at Stephen who looked alarmingly back at him, thinking the same thing. Blood?
"What on earth Mr Mortimer?" Mrs Hughes exclaimed. "What happened?"
David couldn't talk, he just shook his head as he gulped. He must have been running hard for miles by the look of him. "Telephone," David gasped as he reached for the wall to steady himself. "Need to use...police...help." He gulped again. "He needs help...now!" Daniel stood up. Something's happened. He saw the wild panic in David's eyes as he tried to speak.
Ever calm in the face of trouble Mrs Hughes spoke next. "How about you sit down Mr Mortimer, once you've caught your breath then you can tell us what is wrong?"
But David shook his head, he put his hands on his knees and took several more rasping breaths in and out. Daniel saw the muddy handprint left on the wall, but no one seemed to care. "No time...got to call now." He straightened up again, breathing a bit easier now. "He's bleeding out... he needs an ambulance now."
"Who does?" Phyllis asked. Daniel noted the dread in her voice, which was mirrored on everyone else's faces. They must have all been holding their breath, waiting to know what had happened, as David tried to catch his.
"Richard. It's bad. He came after me with a gun."
Mr Bates, who had been silent up until now, looked confused. "Mr Ellis has a gun?"
"No! Course not! No, no Martin Lee. The man who is—" David looked around at them all. "Oh no you don't know do you?"
"Know what?" Mr Bates asked.
"I don't have time to explain now. Look, I came to Downton to get away from someone who wanted me dead and long story short—he found me. Richard, Thomas and Chris came out to warn me, I was in the woods, Richard found me first but so did Martin. He meant to shoot me but Richard pushed me out of the way and he—"
"He was shot instead?" Phyllis whisphered.
"Oh my god," Daisy exclaimed. "Is he, is he—?"
"Not when I left him." David said. They all knew what Daisy was asking, even though she never said that one word. "Thomas is with him now, I had to run back and Chris...well I don't know where he is."
"Right, well I'll phone for an ambulance first David, you come with me so you can tell them down the telephone where exactly to go. Then we will call the police and get them to find Mr Lee before he does any more damage," Mrs Hughes decided. Daniel admired him in this moment, she was able to stay focused when everyone else was still in a state of shock. David nodded and followed her out of the room to Mr Barrow's office.
"It is probably best we all stay here tonight," Mr Bates suggested. "I know none of us are targets but Mr Lee will be more dangerous than ever now that he missed getting to Mr Mortimer."
"Thing is though, Mr Mason thinks we are coming back straight away," Andy said. "He's not as strong as he once was and I don't want him to worry about us."
Daisy nodded in agreement. "I expect Mrs Hughes would need to tell Mr Carson too, for the same reasons."
"I understand but we should all stay here until it's light at least, or until he is caught," Mr Bates responded grimly.
Daniel thought about his parents but he was hoping they wouldn't notice he's gone, like other times he's stayed at Downton before. "We could go out and warn them," he offered. Stephen nodded.
"We can't ask that of you Daniel," Daisy said.
"We will be quick and it is the only way, there will be two of us and we will look out for each other okay?"
"You happy about that Stephen?" Mr Bates asked.
"I want to help, so yes." Daniel smiled gratefully at him.
"Fine, but take no risks okay?"
"We won't," Stephen said as he followed him out the door and into the hallway.
"What about Mr Webster?" Charlotte asked as Daniel and him left. "He's still out there."
"If we see him, we'll warn him okay?" Daniel shared her concern. He knew the chances of bumping into him were slim, but he hoped he sounded reassuring.
As he and Stephen stepped out into the darkness, he felt less courageous than before. "Are you sure about this?" he asked Stephen.
"It was your suggestion. But yes, I don't want to sit there feeling useless. I want to do something." Daniel couldn't see his expression in the dark but Stephen sounded determined and it gave him a new sense of strength that this was the right thing to do. Even if it was a risk.
…
"It's c-cold." Richard's words shivered as much as he did when he spoke. Thomas was cold too, he hadn't moved and was kneeling on the damp muddy ground, the night air had set in and the wind was unforgiving. But he was worried, although he tried his hardest not to show it, because Richard was feeling far too cold to be healthy. His voice was weak, even when Richard had come down with a cold or any normal illness he never sounded weak, he always tried to sound his normal upbeat self. Thomas was scared because he wasn't even trying anymore.
"Have my coat," Thomas said. It was hard taking it off as he had to keep pressure on Richard's wound, it was all he could do. The only other thing to do right now was to wait and hope David got help in time. He had no idea what the time was or how long he had been here. It felt like hours, but maybe it wasn't as long as that?
"Do you have to press so hard?" Richard asked.
"Sorry, but I do. I can't do anything else now." Thomas felt his lip quiver and his voice wobble. He cursed himself for his weakness. He had to be strong—he had to be.
Richard faintly smiled up at him. "I love you."
Thomas felt the lump in his throat as he tried to resist the tears in his eyes. "No. No don't—don't say that."
"You know Chris was always better at the shop than me."
Thomas frowned, confused by the sudden change in subject. "What?"
"He can have it Thomas. I don't want it to be given to anyone."
"What do you mean? It's—" Thomas felt his heart racing as he realised what Richard was doing. "No Richard. It can't be his because it is yours and it will be for a long time still. We'll get you back there and I can complain about how you spend too long arranging books in alphabetical order or about how you polish the shelves with too much wood polish, okay?" Thomas let out a little laugh as he blinked through his tears that were threatening to fall like rain.
Richard shook in Thomas's arms again. "My parents, Thomas. Look after them for me won't you? They're getting older and this will— " Richard closed his eyes briefly.
"Richard, we will do that together." Thomas tried to sound determined, strong, but it came out as a mere echo of what he intended to sound like.
"Thomas please? Promise me?"
Thomas nodded quickly. "I promise."
Richard sighed. "We had it good didn't we? No regrets."
"No, none at all. I love you and you saved me. But Richard, I want you to promise me something okay?" Richard smiled faintly. "Fight a bit more for me please love? Don't leave me. Give it your all please? I need you here. I have no regrets but I want more of us. I want to take you dancing somewhere where we can be ourselves, free of judgement. I want us to have everything we can dream of."
"I-I want that too." Thomas felt Richard's hand feebly squeeze his. "I'll try."
"Thank you."
Thomas saw Richard close his eyes again. He put his hand on Richard's shoulder and he roused again. "I'm tired."
"I know, but stay awake okay? We'll get you sorted out soon." Thomas looked around them for any signs of approaching help. Nothing. What's taking them so long? Richard closed his eyes again. The frequency of this was increasing and Thomas felt his pulse was weaker than before. Hurry up! Thomas put his hand on Richard's chest again, but he didn't stir. He touched his neck and then his face. Anything to get a response. "Richard. Richard look at me." But still nothing. "No please!" Thomas felt the vile panic in his throat. "Richard don't leave me! Richard!"