A sudden particularly fierce gust of wind roared through the car, rocking it to and fro despite its considerable weight.
Amanda pulled her thin shirt closer to her shoulders and rubbed her hands subconsciously up and down her arms, peering out of the window into the inky blackness. Her view was obscured by both the spidery web of rain and the condensation that had accumulated on the interior of the windows since Amanda had sealed herself and Jesse into the jeep. She could see nothing.
Unsure of how long it had been since Mark had left her side, Amanda cursed her delicate gold wristwatch that, whilst serving its purpose in broad daylight, proved to be entirely useless in the stifling darkness. Quite bizarrely she found herself envying Steve for his chunky watch that he had, like an enthusiastic schoolboy, proudly shown her the various features of. Water resistance, compass, and a handy little button that made the display glow in the dark. Amanda sighed. She wished her watch had that button.
As the duration of her friend's absence increased Amanda found her imagination relentlessly projecting one scenario after another through her mind forcing thoughts of increasingly more terrible images into her consciousness.
"Arrrgghh!!" Amanda grunted in frustration, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes closed. Balling her hands into fists she pressed them into her eyes, trying physically to force the images from her mind.
The gentle touch of a hand on her arm startled her from her reverie and she lashed out fiercely.
"Jesse! Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" A swell of remorse gripped Amanda in the stomach as she took in the panicked look of bewilderment that creased Jesse's drawn face.
"I didn't realise it was you…" Amanda trailed off as it registered in her flustered mind that Jesse had regained consciousness.
"How are you feeling?" Her voice softened immediately, the pallid fragility of Jesse's countenance impressing itself on her gravely.
"Mmm… cold…" Jesse found the effort of verbalising the intense chill that ached through to his bones difficult, his words coming stiltedly. He felt oddly calm, and the unwavering pain that had consumed his body earlier appeared to have dissipated into nothing. He could feel his body relaxing into a slowed state and whilst he knew that he was dying, he almost welcomed it as an end to the nightmare.
"Jess?" Amanda shook him slightly, his glazed eyes drawing into the mere semblance of focus.
"Mmm…"
"Jesse? You're gonna be ok. Do you hear me? Jesse?" She shook him again, tears sliding down her face as she watched him struggle to remain conscious.
"Mm… 'Manda? I'm s… sorry…"
"What for?" Amanda choked, the lump in her throat catching painfully.
"…so… sorry… tell them…"
"Jesse? Jesse?"
But he didn't respond. He had slipped back into the embrace of unconsciousness, his insentient face almost ghostly.
"Jesse? Jesse?!" Amanda shook his arm roughly, trying to elicit a response. Any response. But there was none.
Stifling a sob Amanda ran her hands through her hair and stared around in desperation, searching for what, she didn't know. She had never felt so hopeless in all her life and despaired at what she should do. Struggling to compose herself Amanda took in several deep breaths, their calming effect barely managing to suppress the panic which was threatening to overwhelm her.
Blinking furiously Amanda extended a trembling hand to Jesse's neck, placing two fingers onto his throat where she felt for his pulse.
For one desperate moment she thought that he had died.
Then the soft pulsation underneath her fingers made itself known and Amanda breathed with a sense of relief that went beyond anything she could have ever comprehended.
She made the decision suddenly and determinedly.
Reaching over the front driver's seat Amanda extended one hand to the dashboard and hooked the ring of keys into her hand.
Unlocking the door closest to the house, Amanda stepped out into the rain. She slammed the door closed behind her and locked it. For the briefest of moments hesitated.
What if he needs me whilst I'm gone?
What if he…
Dies.
But she knew that without immediate action he would be dead before Mark and Steve returned.
If, indeed, they were going to return.
The memory of the gunshot resonated through her head again accompanied by the terrible images of Mark and Steve.
Resolving that she had no choice, Amanda turned on her heel and ran, as fast as her legs would carry her, up to the house.
The incessant burning pain that radiated through his shoulder was the only thing preventing him from passing out. But more than that it gave him the impetus to continue. He wasn't going to be beaten that easily.
Running through the house he had come across another bedroom. The bed was neatly made but the room was lacking the personal touches of the other, as though it was used only occasionally. The man dropped his arm to the bed and wiped his knife across the clean fabric which soaked up the bloodstains almost greedily.
He paused for a moment, considering his next move.
If the two men are in here, then the women is outside. Alone with the other one…
He smiled to himself.
They were almost making it too easy.
Maintaining a tight grip on Steve, Mark directed him through the kitchen and into the living room, his eyes flashing from side to side in an effort to ensure there would be no surprise attacks.
His whole head seemed to tingle from both his heightened sense of awareness and the tautness of his muscles, and the beginnings of a headache were starting to creep into his eyes.
"Dad."
"Come on Steve, we're nearly there."
"No, Dad I have to… to sit down… please…" Before Mark had a chance to respond Steve had leant one hand onto the armchair and began lowering himself into it.
"Steve…"
"Just for a minute, just a minute…" Steve leant his head back and squeezed his eyes closed.
Mark had been going to explain that their exit was urgent – there was no time to sit. But seeing the anguish on Steve's face he wavered, scrutinising first his son then the dimly lit hallway. As long as they remained in the house Mark doubted their safety.
A loud crash caused Mark to physically jump. He whipped his head around, eyes open wide. A cold gust of wind told Mark that the front door had been opened. He searched for the umbrella but found that it was no longer within his sights. He scoured the room for anything that might come to hand, determined to protect himself and his injured son, who appeared to be struggling to stand.
Before he could lay his hands on anything a figure appeared in the doorway. Soaked to the skin and panting for breath.
"Amanda?!"
His thoughts immediately turned to Jesse, and his stomach churned.
"What's happened? Jesse..?"
"He's still… he's ok. But we have to leave." The absolute desperation in her voice spoke volumes, and even in his confused state Steve had also managed to comprehend what had been left unspoken.
Leaning on only one hand Steve endeavoured to push himself up, but struggled to achieve anything more than shifting forward slightly in his seat.
Amanda looked on bewildered by the change in Steve's demeanour, disheartened to see the obvious signs of blood and bruising.
"What happened?"
"He was attacked – the man's still in the house – we have to get out of here"
Amanda took in what Mark was saying as best she could, frowning in confusion. Despite the lack of detail a wave of panic washed over her.
"There's someone in the house?" her voice was barely more than a whisper, her mind instantly dragged back to the laughter she had heard outside earlier.
"Help me with Steve."
"I can manage." Steve appeared to have regained some of his fight, and immediately went to shrug off Mark's attempts to help him, a look of pure indignation on his face.
With a stern glare from Mark however, he soon submitted to help, his easy concession a sign of his weakened state, and together they began again to make their way from the house.