The driveway was swampy with water, cloying at the tires as Steve manoeuvred the car out towards the road. The fine spray of rain dusted the windscreen with a light mist, and though incomparable to the earlier downpour Steve found it a necessity to flick the wipers on to clear his view of the path ahead. Turning out onto the road Steve felt a new wave of hope flush through his body. The sight of the slick grey asphalt glinting in the morning light served to lighten his mood and his spirits. The knowledge that they were actually escaping the confines of the house that had offered neither protection nor safety to his friends and family was an immense relief to his troubled mind. But whilst the slight relief in the tension of his taut muscles did alleviated his unease somewhat, the remission was superficial - the atmosphere in the car was charged and tense. No one spoke and the uncomfortable silence which sat between the friends was unnatural to their usually amicable banter.

Steve gripped the steering wheel tightly with his right hand, systematically flexing his fingers to adjust his grip. Whilst his left hand was balanced lightly onto the smooth leather surface, he did not dare grip to any discernible degree for fear of increasing the burning throb that already pulsed through the injured limb.

Steve blinked repeatedly as he stared at the road, both to soothe the tired grittiness that plagued his sore eyes, and to stave off the blurring that lingered in the periphery of his vision. He found it hard to concentrate on the road, finding the urge to flick his eyes up to look into the rear-view mirror irresistible. Jesse's image reflected back at him appearing small and feeble, the rise and fall of his chest that Steve had watched so scrupulously earlier was now imperceptible.

"Steve!" Amanda's voice startled Steve and he whipped his eyes back to the road to see that the car was veering sharply to the right. Without thinking he grabbed the wheel roughly with his left hand and jerked the car back onto a straight course. Yet again a bolt of pain splintered his wrist and he was unable to prevent a yelp of pain escaping his lips. A wave of nausea flooded his body and he swallowed shakily trying to prevent the dizzy flush that churned in his gut and his head.

"Be more careful!" Mark barked, righting himself on the seat he had slipped from as the car had lurched so suddenly.

"Sorry, sorry…" Steve murmured distractedly, inhaling deeply, trying to stave off the nausea that gripped his stomach. Brow furrowed he peered out to the road ahead. Although crisp, the morning light offered no real luminescence. A blanket of cloud covered the sky and an all-pervading whiteness extended a dull gloominess to the earth below.

Steve rested his wrist gingerly onto his lap. It throbbed hotly with pain and sent flares of agony through to the very tips of his fingers. He felt an infinitesimal shudder run in waves through his body and a finger of ice weave down his spine. He couldn't remember ever having felt so sick in his life and wanted more than anything to close his eyes and rest. But he couldn't. He knew that he couldn't. Everyone was relying on him to take Jesse to safety; to the help he desperately needed. And so for now his own discomfort paled into insignificance. It had to.

Amanda lifted her gaze momentarily from Jesse and glanced at Steve. His body was hunched forwards and his left hand rested protectively on his lap. Although she couldn't see his face clearly, his profile was tense and strained, and his skin had taken on a pale, sweaty appearance. To her trained eye he was obviously unwell, his numerous injuries being more significant than they had first realised. She considered for a moment ordering him to stop the car and taking over the driving herself. Mark was a more than competent doctor after all, and was perfectly capable of caring for Jesse, and Steve was clearly struggling. But if something should happen… she would never forgive herself if her interference were to cause further problems. Pulling her gaze away she reconciled Steve's struggles in her mind, he was tenacious and stubborn and would probably refuse any offer of help anyway. Better to leave things as they are, she thought to herself reassuringly, scrutinising Jesse's ashen face. It won't be long now anyway…

Mark again placed two fingers just below the bone of Jesse's jaw to palpate the artery below. The pulsations were so minute that they could easily have been mistaken for a trick of the imagination, but despite their inconsiderable proportions their magnitude was immense. Jesse was still alive, and the degree of relief that this afforded Mark was immeasurable.

His inability to do anything significant to help his friend disturbed him greatly. He was a doctor and a surgeon and yet his total lack of medical equipment prevented any action that could truly be considered as useful. Whilst his make-shift attempts at simulating the tools of his trade, which on reflection he realised he took for granted more than he ever knew, he could not do as much for Jesse as he knew he was capable of. Drawing his hand away from Jesse neck slowly Mark noticed the stark contrast between the pink, warm tones of his flesh to that of Jesse's cold, seemingly colourless face. It shook him slightly and he wondered momentarily how someone could live yet appear so deathly. Pulling his hand backwards and away from the disturbing image it had cast in his mind, Mark took Jesse's hand in his own and grasped it firmly. The link and subtle offer of support, though tenuous, was all he could impart for the time being.

"You'll all die…"

The voice was so indistinct that Steve thought for a moment that he had imagined it.

"You'll all die, and I'll see you in hell…"

An icy chill ran through Steve's body as he realised that the man besides him had regained consciousness.

"I'll see to it you die…"

His voice was a cold rasp and the distinct image of a snake slithered into Steve's mind.

Raw and dripping with malice it was barely a whisper, and intensifying his grip on the steering wheel Steve glanced up at the mirror to see if anyone else had registered it. Amanda however, appeared to be locked in a world of her own, her face void of any discernible emotion, and his father sat gripping Jesse's hand, his face determinedly focused on the motionless face of their injured friend. Noting their obvious unawareness of the hate-filled monologue that now resounded in his ears, Steve tried to focus his attention on the road that lay ahead.

A shudder of chafing breathing pervaded the otherwise intense silence, and Steve glimpsed sideways to take in the appearance of the man who had caused so much havoc during the past few hours.

A thin veil of sweat gleamed on his face, and his lips parted ever-so-slightly in a constant attempt to maintain his shallow breathing; the chest wound inflicted by Steve's skilfully aimed weapon having hit it's target. Multiple streaks of dirt and blood stained his face and body, and he trembled visibly; whether through the anxiety of having been caught or through the pain of his injuries, Steve didn't care.

Whatever suffering he goes through will never be enough… he though vindictively, a sneer creeping onto his face.

"…in agony and misery, you'll join your dead friend…" Even in his wounded state he managed to draw up a malevolent snicker to accompany his vile words.

Steve clenched his jaw, fighting back the anger which began to boil within his gut.

"He's not dead." Steve wasn't sure why he spoke. He had no desire whatsoever to enter into conversation with the deranged maniac, and the words that fell from his mouth took him by surprise as much as they appeared to the man.

"What?"

The note of panic that emanated from the man's voice was enough to bring a small smile to Steve's lips. A flush of power twinged in his mind and he felt for the first time that he truly had the upper hand.

"He's alive, and you're the one who's as good as dead. You'll rot in a cell until you'll wish I'd killed you…" Steve murmured.

The depth of rancour in his own voice shocked Steve himself, and he started slightly at the unease that washed over him.

The man flinched in his seat and groaned slightly from the pain the small movements induced.

"You're lying…"

The resemblance that this conversation bore to the one they had shared earlier, the one Steve would never forget for he had been informed, albeit wrongly, of his best friends death in such a callous way, was uncanny.

"No, he's alive. You failed." The statement was bland, but to the mind of the man it was offensive beyond belief.

I've failed… he thought to himself frantically. I can't have failed… I can't have…

He sat for a moment, stunned into a silence filled with stifled panic. His mind, twisted as it was, unconditionally refused to register the fact that he had been captured, and that the status of his initial victim was now less than relevant as a factor to his likely future behind bars.

Gripped by an overwhelming sense of dread he acted on the single plan of action that entered his mind.

Slinging his weight to the left, he reached out his cuffed hands and wrenched the steering wheel with all his might. Trying desperately to ignore the intense pain that filled every inch of his body as his sudden movement tugged at the various wounds that continued to bleed profusely, he maintained his grip on the wheel as the Steve fought with him to regain control.

It had happened so suddenly that he was taken completely unawares. Steve tried frantically to reclaim charge of the vehicle but the strength the man exhibited betrayed forcefulness his gaunt disposition belied.

With the use of only one hand at his disposal Steve struggled to reverse the course the car now veered along. Jolting roughly off the smooth tarmac of the road, the car juddered along the roadside verge. Finding himself unable to slacken the man's iron-like grip on the steering wheel Steve decided instead to target the man himself. Releasing his own grip on the wheel the car swerved even more sharply to the left, and as he jerked his elbow into the man's side Steve realised too late his mistake.

It happened so quickly, but the violently turn had pointed the car on a trajectory which would see them crash headlong into a grassy embankment, and unable to do anything to prevent the collision he knew was coming Steve tensed himself for the impact. 

Shouts of alarm radiated from the back seat of the car and the sound of metal crunching as it concertina-ed echoed in his ears. The tight constraint of his seat belt cut fiercely into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs and his head snapped sharply backwards as the impact slammed through his body.

Amanda's screams resonated in Steve's head as a black cloud of pain descended upon him. Feeling consciousness slowly slipping away, Steve battled to pull himself back to awareness, but unable to fight it any longer, the gentle clutches of oblivion swept over him, and he knew no more.

Note: Hi all, sorry so much for the delay in posting – I've had university exams so revise for, but they're all finished now. Yee hee!! Hope you like this chapter, I'll try and update ASAP. Thanks for reading,

Sarah