¤¤¤
Nina leaned back into the corner, the dead angle of the room, and took a deep breath. Lucky again. But she probably deserved some luck at this point.
Nick had taken off and she couldn't blame him, but if she made it out of here, she would have to think about how to deal with him. If he decided that this was more than he could keep to himself she would be in trouble. Her pardon would be worthless and she a fugitive. She didn't even want to think about the consequences.
Lying by the door, Travis groaned in pain, and keeping her gun on him she cursed herself for not understanding it right away. The sniper hadn't been supposed to take her out. He hadn't missed her twice and then only hit her leg by accident. It had been his job to wound her and pin her to the room until Travis could get to her. Not the simplest plan and one that attracted more attention than necessary, but she guessed they both wanted to have their share. And while Travis had always been the one going hand-to-hand, Jared preferred what he called the elegance of a sniper rifle. To kill from a safe distance without getting his hands dirty. He had spun a whole philosophy around it which he had been so eager to elaborate for her the one time she had met him, both of them, in Max's company.
"Fuck," Travis yelled, racked with pain, looking at his chest where blood was quickly seeping through his shirt and pooling in a dark red circle. "You better finish me off now."
"Nice to see you too," she sighed. "Just out of curiosity – how did you find me?"
"Cost us a lot of time and money but fortunately some of your contacts are just as buyable as you," he spit, glaring at her in fury.
"I didn't know you and Jared were so close."
"We were the only ones left after you sold us all out, so guess what – that got us very close."
She rolled her eyes. She was sick of it. And for a moment, she considered telling him. But why bother. She better focused on finding out which of her contacts he was talking about. There seemed to be too many people after her to make mistakes. And she was lucky if she wouldn't have to pay for this one.
She had expected him to go for his gun and didn't hesitate when he moved.
Staring down at his lifeless body, she couldn't but shake her head inwardly. She knew she wouldn't have given up that easily. At least she would have tried to stall. Jared had to be on his way in. Which means you have to get out.
She risked to peek around the window frame, just long enough to confirm that the street was empty again, except for the two dead officers still lying a few steps from their car. It was time to move. She just had to reach the back exit and make it to the car.
Looking down her leg though, she contemplated to just stay where she was, and wait for Jared to show up at the door instead of limping around. But it wasn't a good option. He knew she was in here and had probably calculated for this situation. She was an easy target and there were enough ways to take her out without giving her a clear shot at him first.
Move, she urged herself, and tried to make her way through the room, clenching her teeth, holding her breath as the pain increased again. She knew it was only a question of time until her leg would refuse to carry even the little weight she tried to put on it, but she kept moving, steadying herself against the wall, knowing she didn't have a second to waste. It's only pain. She had beaten it before.
Once out in the corridor, she quickly checked that it was clear and then turned to her left, dragging herself further as fast as she could. But all the while she couldn't stop thinking that running away wasn't gonna solve her problem. And frankly – she was tired of it. The last thing she needed was another reason to constantly look over her shoulder.
True, but you're not exactly in your best shape, she reasoned with herself. Right now, the best she could do was to get away. Everything else could be taken care of later. All that mattered was to get to that exit and out of here. If Nick was smart he would already be there.
¤¤¤
But he was't. Once out of the room, he had turned right, sprinting down the hallway until he turned a corner. Slowing down a little, he strained his ears, but no one seemed to have followed him. He sighed with relief but then stopped abruptly.
I'm an idiot. Panic-stricken as he was, he hadn't thought about more than just getting away. But the corridor he was on led straight to the lobby. And there's still a guy with a big rifle waiting somewhere. Trying to walk out the main entrance might not be a smart move.
He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder. Maybe he should go back. But that very moment another shot echoed through the hallway and he flinched. Nah, I don't think so, a voice mocked inside his head. He quickly picked up the pace again. He knew the alternative wasn't much better, but the bigger the distance between him and that room the better. There had to be another way out of this.
The back exit. He had no idea which exit she had been talking about but there had to be more than one. Kitchen, goods entrance, emergency exits - he just had to get to the back of the hotel, away from windows and snipers and trigger happy strangers.
He saw another corridor branching off to his left and made a turn, hoping it wouldn't be a dead end. He wished he had taken some more time to have a proper look around when he had arrived. He wished he had never set a foot in the damn hotel. I wish I had been smart enough to turn around and run the moment I saw her.
Something swished through the air and hit the wallpaper next to him, and he jerked around. Seeing the scratch the bullet had left – so tiny it almost seemed innocuous – he spun around. And stared into another gun muzzle or rather the silencer that was attached to it.
"Not so fast, pal," its possessor demanded, steadily aiming at him while he slowly moved closer.
It had to be the shooter. Jared. Probably on his way to join his partner. If he knew what had happened right before Nick had made a run for it? If he's gonna shoot me?
"Where are you going?"
I guess nowhere now. Nick cursed silently, feeling panic welling up inside him, hoping he could control it.
"Outside, getting some fresh air," he replied with sarcasm. "There's too much lead whirring around here."
"A joker," Jared mocked, but then his expression turned serious. "Who the hell are you?" He had stopped and was now standing about five meters away from Nick.
How could I possibly explain my role in this?
But Jared didn't seem too interested in an answer. By now he had probably figured out that something had to have gone wrong.
"Where's Nina?" he asked, the frown on his face giving him away. He was worried.
"Last time I saw her, your partner had a gun on her," Nick decided to take a chance, staring right into his eyes, hoping Jared really had no idea what had happened next.
"And how come you're wandering around out here?"
Because I ran the first chance I got. And he felt his façade falling into pieces. "I ran off," he admitted, looking down, strangely enough feeling like a coward all of a sudden.
"Then I guess you're not her boyfriend," Jared sneered. "Are you doing business with her?"
Business? Nick's mind was racing. Would that help him or not? What should he say? What could he do?
"No," he finally shook his head.
"So you're no one important," Jared concluded with a contemptuous smile, and Nick understood.
"I heard shots," he called out, hoping to prevent the killer from pulling the trigger. "After I left the room, I heard shots."
Jared hesitated. "And?"
"And no one came after me."
It was a risky game he was playing, revealing that the other guy was probably dead. But he didn't really have anything to lose, did he?
Jared eyed him skeptically for a moment but then seemed determined again.
"Then I better go check on them."
"If Nina shot him, she's not gonna be there anymore," he stammered, desperately trying to come up with something that could save his life, that could buy him just a little more time. He didn't want to die! He didn't have anything to do with all this!
"She's wounded. I don't think she'll get too far," Jared countered, obviously unmoved at the prospect that his partner could be dead.
"She's tough," Nick objected quickly, not even lying. Images from the time he had walked in on her being tortured popped up in his mind.
"Then I better hurry."
"I know where she's going." He was clutching at straws.
But it seemed to do the trick, at least for the moment. Giving him a long close look, Jared lowered his arm an idea.
"Where?"
"If I tell you now, how do I know you're not gonna shoot me anyway?"
"Well, if you don't tell me now, I will shoot you for sure. You're just gonna have to take a chance."
Nick swallowed, assessing the options. But Jared lifting his arm again was enough to convince him.
"L.A. She's going to L.A."
"It's a big city."
"She's going after Bauer. Jack Bauer. He's –"
"I know who he is," Jared cut him off. "So you suggest if I stay close to Bauer, I'm gonna run into her eventually?"
"Yes," Nick nodded eagerly, knowing he had given away the only thing that could have been a trump up his sleeve. And did I just sell someone out? True, Nina Myers wasn't exactly the impersonation of innocence, but…he had just set her up.
"Well, thank you," Jared interrupted his line of thought. "I'll make sure she finds out how I located her," Jared sneered and shifted his weight an idea, bringing his right shoulder a bit more forward.
Nick squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation, and hearing the explosion when the hammer impinged upon the cartridge, imagining how the bullet was set off and sent on its way, everything inside him screamed that it couldn't happen like this. That he wasn't supposed to die like this. This couldn't be the end.
Time suddenly seemed to stand still because it took forever for the bullet to hit him. And a thought formed somewhere in his head, absurd enough to get his attention. It shouldn't be this loud. Jared had a silencer on his gun. The shot shouldn't be this loud.
And suddenly time was back up on its normal speed, and he heard a cry and another shot, and jerked his eyes open, just in time to see Jared going down. And staring past him down the corridor, he caught sight of Nina, halfway hidden behind the corner to the main hallway, her gun still trained on Jared.
¤¤¤
Nina leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling nausea and dizziness taking over. She forced herself to stay focused a moment longer though, and only when she was sure that it was really over, that Jared didn't move anymore, did she lower the gun. She was suddenly so tired.
But she fought the urge to slide down the wall and sit down for a moment. You can't rest. Not yet. She had to get out of here. She had to think of how to fix this mess.
She looked up at Nick. He hadn't moved yet either, staring down at the dead body between them, but then he seemed to regain his composure and slowly started walking towards her.
She held her breath when he passed Jared, a part of her almost hoping he would try to bend down and pick up the gun. It would make things so much easier.
Since when do you need a justification? she wondered but didn't get the time to dwell on it.
"We need to get out of here," Nick stated matter-of-factly and she smirked.
"We?"
"You need a doctor," he dismissed her remark, still coming closer but slowing down now, approaching her with caution.
Yeah, right. That would be his first concern. She shook her head inwardly but hesitated, giving him a long close look. She still hadn't decided what to do with him. Not true. You just can't make the one decision you know would be right.
She had expected him to stop and leave a comfortable distance between them but he didn't, instead reaching out a hand when he was only a few feet away from her. And she quickly raised her gun again to signal she was in pain but not out of her mind.
He stopped abruptly.
"How far do you think you'll get on your own?" he exclaimed almost reproachfully, looking down at her leg. And as much as she hated it – he was right. She wouldn't be able to walk around much longer and she did need a doctor. Or at least someone who was able to fix her leg.
"Fine," she muttered under her breath, and clutching the gun tighter to be prepared in case he was up to something, she allowed him to put his arm around her.
Without another word, she led their steps towards the lobby then. Still some work to do before they could leave.
"What happened to the back exit?" he asked, pulling her left arm a little tighter around his neck, and she gratefully leaned on him some more when she felt the pain decreasing a little.
Don't get carried away, she reminded herself, positive she knew the reason why he was so caring all of a sudden. He's rather afraid something might happen to him than afraid something might happen to you.
They reached the lobby and she cast her eyes round the room before she indicated to him what they were heading for: the check-in desk. It seemed to dawn on him what she was up to.
"Are we covering up some tracks?"
She had to. Once the police arrived at the scene, it wouldn't take them long to figure out what had happened. The holes in the wall, the shattered window, Jared's sniper rifle across the street – and they would know the two hadn't killed each other. That there had been someone else involved. And gotten away. She had to make sure nothing led to her.
"That's why you came back, isn't it?"
Of course it is, she thought amused. Had he seriously believed something else? She shook her head. Just because he believed that he owed the world and everyone in it didn't mean she did. She didn't owe him anything.
Leaning over the desk to pick up the registration book, she caught sight of another body, lying behind it on the ground. Repressing a thought she didn't want to think, she quickly focused on the book, glad she had come to one of the few places that hadn't entered the 21st century yet.
She had used a fake ID, of course, but it was better if nothing hinted to a guest staying in her room at all, especially not a female one. She found the entry and without further ado ripped out the entire page, knowing it would also make it harder to track down the guests who had already left. And in case someone remembered seeing a dark-haired woman in the hotel, she could easily have been one of the already departed guests. She was sure no one had actually seen her walking in or out of her room, so the only person who knew was the woman who had checked her in. The woman who was lying dead behind the desk.
She glanced down at her again, and this time she couldn't stop the thought from flashing her mind. You would have had to kill her otherwise. And knowing it was true, knowing it would have been the only way to save her pardon and thereby eventually her life, she suddenly felt disgusted. Disgusted and weak.
She noticed Nick watching her and urged herself to focus. It's the pain and the blood loss making you dizzy.
"We have to hurry," she stated curtly. One more thing to do and then she would be out of here.
¤¤¤
Nick swallowed, staring into the dead woman's eyes. The woman he had been charming to give him Nina's room number less than half an hour ago. Suddenly he felt like throwing up. He had thought working for Division had been walking a world he couldn't breathe in, but this was…
Actually not so different at all, a voice rang out somewhere in his mind. People killing, people dying. For no obvious reason, for no good reason, but always for some reason. You've seen it all before. Wasn't that what made you walk away?
He felt sick and turned his head away, stealing a glance at Nina who was studying the registration book. And for a moment he considered to just turn around and walk away. Fuck you. I'm out of here. But he doubted she would just let him go. He knew she was trying so hard to cover her traces because she could forget about her pardon otherwise. And he was a pretty big trace. He was only surprised she hadn't shot him right there in the hallway. It would have been easy to make it look like he and Jared had killed each other. He had been seen around, he was a former fed - why shouldn't they have been coming for him? And no one would be looking for her. As much as it scared him, he knew it was a handy solution to all her problems. So why had she passed up on the opportunity?
Maybe she simply didn't see it.
He caught the expression on her face, the moment of weakness she wasn't fast enough to hide when she looked down at the dead woman. And maybe that was why he was still alive. Because she was weak.But he doubted it. Just like he doubted that she wasn't aware of what he was doing. Helping her, keeping her focused on the overall projective of saving her own skin, all just to take her mind off yet another reason to kill him for: his betrayal.
She must have heard what I told Jared. She had to know he had tried to sell her out. Only to save his skin though –and who else could understand that better than her. And that was most likely why she didn't seem to care, why she hadn't pulled the trigger in the heat of the moment. Not because she didn't see through his little charming offensive.
"We have to hurry," she stated indifferently, wiping her face clean of all emotions just like that.
He put his arm back around her and let her set the pace, supporting her as best as he could as they made their way back to the corridor, Nina limping rather than walking. Her leg was still bleeding, and he wondered how she could still be up on her feet. But then again, he had seen her coping with much more. For the second time today he saw images from that basement dungeon flashing before his eyes. He shook it off.
Why didn't she kill me?
Maybe it was an occupational disease, a habit he hadn't gotten rid off yet, but he hadn't been able to stop himself from trying to get into her mind earlier. Almost like a reflex, and he had been angry with himself. Now, he realized getting into her mind, seeing things the way she did was the only thing that could maybe save him.
He knew why he she had let him walk in Tunisia and he hadn't come to see her today if he hadn't believed she would let him walk again. Because I wasn't a threat to her. I would have convinced her. But now the situation had changed. Now the stakes were suddenly high, too high if he was realistic. So if he wanted her to let him live, he would have to come up with a reason.
I'm not going to play that game with you. I'm not going to give you a reason to let me live, his own words echoed in his head. How quickly things could change.
They were back at the room and she made him stop in the doorframe, entangling herself and pushing him a few feet away, signaling for him to stay right there. He complied. And understood when she dragged herself further on her own, bending down to secure the dead guy's gun. She surely was in pain and exhausted, but she wasn't weak enough to miss something like that.
He watched her moving on, over to the bed where she picked up her coat and put it on.
"What have you touched?"
He tried to remember, going through it in his mind.
"The door, the chair," he hesitated, "and your briefcase." He nodded towards the desk.
She smirked.
"There are towels in the bathroom."
Great. Now I'm destroying evidence, he thought but went to get some anyway. At least she wasn't planning on killing him right here. Cause if she was, she wouldn't mind my fingerprints all over the place. But did it mean she was going to let him walk? Why should she?
Cleaning the armrests of the chair, he darted a glance at her. She had sat down on the bed and was trying to produce some sort of makeshift pressure bandage. He had to figure her out. If he wanted to live through this, he had to find a way inside her mind. This time it wasn't about his ego and this time he couldn't afford to let it go.
¤¤¤
Nina slumped into the passenger seat, leaning her head back against the headrest. If the car had been parked ten more meters away, she doubted she would ever have made it. Her cautiousness had almost cost her.
"Go," she ordered, uncomfortable with how weak her voice sounded. She swallowed, and tried to at least maintain a determined expression on her face.
Nick hit the ignition and they started moving, just when the sirens rang out somewhere behind them. And despite her complaining a second ago, she was glad now that she had picked this place to park. It was relatively easy to reach from the hotel, at least if you hadn't been shot in the leg, and most importantly – you could get there unnoticed. A short walk through a deserted area, and the road they were on now would take them to a safe distance before anyone would notice someone had gotten away.
"Where are we going?" Nick asked, and she had to admit to herself she didn't have an answer for him. Not that she hadn't given it a lot of thinking but she simply wasn't sure what was best.
The blood traces were everywhere in the hotel and they would give her injury away. She couldn't go to a hospital, neither to any doctor in this area. The risk was too high. She went over her list of contacts in her head. Who was close enough to be of any help now? And who did she trust enough to expose herself in the state she was in? She knew one of her contacts had sold her out.
"Just stay on this road. As soon as it's dark, we'll cross the border."
She would feel a lot safer once she was out of the country.
"It's still more than three hours until it gets dark," Nick pointed out, not taking his eyes off the road.
As if she wasn't aware of that fact. She couldn't tell how much damage the bullet had done, so she didn't know how much time she had. Before she would die or simply pass out from blood loss or pain. Or both.
"Just drive."
"I know a place where we could lay low for a while," he objected to her surprise. And she had to hold back not to laugh. Lay low. The words sounded odd coming from him. She eyed him skeptically.
"I just don't want to get stopped by a patrol," he elaborated, and she couldn't deny he had a point. Driving around in circles so close to the border wasn't the best idea when trying to avoid attention, and another shootout was the last thing she needed. And the last thing he wants. Things were bad enough as they were.
"What place?"
"It's an old house a bit outside of town. It's abandoned. No one's been living there in ages."
Again she darted him a skeptical look. What was he up to?
She felt dizzy again and struggled to stay focused. She needed to think but she also needed to rest.
"Fine," she agreed, and he turned at the next intersection, leading them onto a smaller road.
For a while they drove in silence.
"So, who's Max?" he suddenly asked then.
"The nuclear bomb you mentioned earlier – he was the man behind it," she explained wearily. "Or one of them."
"So you knew him well," Nick insinuated.
"I only met him twice. Once to sell some information and the other time to introduce him to one of my contacts." She didn't even know why she was telling him. But she reckoned talking would keep her awake and focused.
"I guess that made it easier then."
She sighed in frustration. Not again.
"Not that it's any of your business or that it matters, but I had no idea he was even involved in the whole thing."
She felt him giving her a side glance.
"Then who did you think was involved?"
"You mean besides me?" She smirked. "I didn't know, and I didn't care. I just pieced together what I knew and played my cards the best I could."
"Seems it worked," he replied cynically.
Yes. It did.
"And CTU?" he asked after another short silence. "Seems a bit unlikely you didn't know why anyone would be interested in the schematics for a federal agency."
She rolled her eyes. He really seemed to know all the details. And she couldn't but wonder who his source was.
"Why? Why are you asking?"
"I just wonder. I mean, it would matter to me if I was being accused for something I didn't do. Not to mention if someone was trying to kill me."
She couldn't but smile at his naivety.
"You think they would have cared? You think they would have let us walk out? Or that anyone would care? That it would make any difference at all?" She shook her head.
"Right. And you don't care at all either, do you? Not even if people think…". He couldn't find the words.
"Think what? Worse of me than they should?" This would actually be amusing if she wasn't in so much pain. "Not being a mass-murderer doesn't make me a better person," she sneered but got tired of the whole discussion. "Don't be more naïve than you are. It doesn't suit you."
¤¤¤
He got the hint and kept quiet, using the time to process what his little interrogation had brought about.
At least I got her to answer. To show some kind of reaction. It was a breakthrough, more than he had ever gotten from her or seen anyone getting from her. She's weak and tired. And maybe she had reached a point where she actually wanted to explain herself to someone. Not on a conscious level maybe, but he had a hard time believing she really didn't care at all. Everybody needed some form of understanding, approval, recognition. It was simply human nature.
"What did you mean – one of them?" he asked, knowing he couldn't stop now but neither pressure her too much. There was a small chance and he had to be very careful not to ruin it.
"It's never just one person," she explained, sounding almost absent-minded. "There's someone with a plan, and then someone else, with money, with connections, others who feel their interests are at stake, and before you know of it, there's no longer one single person to call the shots…there's always much more playing into it, more than you can see or anyone wants to see." She gave him a side glance. "You should know."
"Yeah," he replied curtly. He had definitely seen more than he ever wanted to see. Just like she had apparently.
That's why you left the NCS, isn't it? Suddenly he thought he could see the pieces falling into place. That's why you joined CTU. He hadn't actually pursued any specific tail when he had asked her about her career choices back then during the interrogation but later on he had really wondered.
"I guess you learnt that lesson long time before I did," he remarked with a sigh, trying to sound casual. "I'm guessing when you worked for the National Security Council."
No response and he could only hope he hadn't been too fast forward. If she shut down, he might have missed his one shot.
"What was it like?" he tried again in his best small talk voice. And he noticed her hesitating for a moment, staring down into her lap and then back out through the window.
"It surely teaches you a lot," she stated dryly.
"About the way of the world," he complemented sarcastically. "And about yourself."
He realized he wasn't so much pursuing a questioning technique but rather relating to her words. It made it easier in some way but it was also a risk. Never let the subject take the lead in the discourse unless you can control it, he reminded himself. Never get carried away, never expose your own persona. But it was hard to maintain a clear demarcation line. And he knew the standard procedures wouldn't work with her anyway. So he tried to…go with the flow. Hoping her weak state would keep her conversational a little longer before she would see what was going on.
"And it's funny," he continued, hoping she would relate to his words as well. "You think you know it all, what's expecting you, that nothing can shock you. But you don't really get it until you're right in the middle of it."
She seemed to think about it for a moment.
"Yeah, well, you lose, you learn," she commented disparagingly then.
He managed to hide the feeling of triumph that came over him. It was silly and again his ego making itself heard, but somehow it gave him satisfaction to see that he had been right. You mean you lost and you learnt, he thought, forcing himself not to look at her, afraid he would give himself away.
She had mocked him in Tunisia, as if he was stupid beating himself up over this, as if she couldn't relate to it at all. But she could. She had been there herself. Suddenly it all made sense. She had felt the same overwhelming helplessness and quit as well in a way, because she had realized it wasn't her world after all. Only she had taken a different turn than he had. And he couldn't stop wondering why.
Knowing there wasn't really a smart way around this, he changed his tactic and decided to be straight forward. They were close to their destination anyway and once they got interrupted, he would lose his window.
"So you learnt and joined Division," he stated, not taking his eyes off the road. "But I know what that's like, so, I guess, it wasn't the improvement you had hoped for."
She had turned her head around and was looking at him, and casting a quick glance at her he could see the suspicion in her eyes. Yeah, think - what am I up to?
"So you tried CTU," he kept pushing. "Thinking it's a less complex environment? That there can't be anything wrong or compromising about catching terrorists?"
She managed to maintain a blank expression but he could sense this time she had to make a real effort.
"And then what? It wasn't?"
He threw her a challenging look and she held his gaze, suddenly back to her normal self.
"Didn't we get a bit carried away there?" she asked, and despite the clear signs of pain in her face, the exhaustion, and the slight tremor in her voice, there was nothing weak about her anymore. She was back in control, at least over her mind.
"I mean, what is this? Are we really talking about me or is it more some sort of projective self-reflection? Cause I can only see one person here who's so desperately trying to find his place in life." She displayed the familiar condescending smile and he was glad the fact that they were still driving gave him an excuse to keep his eyes on the road. "Isn't that why you came to me? Because you needed to make sure who you are and what you want?"
And suddenly it was his turn to try and keep his composure, to make an effort not to let her see she had hit a nerve.
"All this talk about how you owe me," she sneered. "Did you try to be a stand-up guy, to be true to yourself? To prove that you can still do good although you failed once?"
He glanced at her again and she took a moment to let her eyes travel over his features, that scrutinizing look on her face he knew so well by now.
"And isn't that why you're still trying to break me now? Because you couldn't the first time?"
He wanted to dismiss it. Staring through the windshield he wanted to tell her she was wrong, to tell himself she was wrong. She's just trying to manipulate me. She's turning the tables on me to divert attention from herself, to sidetrack me. But she wasn't all wrong, was she?
He recognized the turn-off and pulled onto the dusty path, and a few moments later the trees thinned, exposing their destination.
"Is that it?" he heard her ask and followed her gaze. The old house still looked exactly the same, just like it had all those years ago.
"Yes," he answered curtly, slowing down and pulling into the driveway.
¤¤¤
Nina sank back into the cushions, trying to get into a comfortable position as she watched him walking around the room. He hadn't said a word since the car.
Good. Maybe she had put him into place.
She was still a bit angry. Not so much at him as more with herself. Why had she let him lure her like that, why admitted to his inquiry-response game? She knew what he was so why had she made it so easy for him?
She smothered a groan when her leg sent a new wave of pain through her body, shifting in the couch, her hand clutching the gun tighter that was resting next to her. This wasn't good.
Calm down, don't panic. You just need to get some rest until you've figured out what to do.
She noticed him coming towards her and instinctively straightened up, immediately on alert. And a part of her was relieved that at least her reflexes were still intact.
"Let me take a look at that," he said, pretending to disregard the gun she had raised a little, and motioning at her leg.
"Are you a doctor now?" she replied mockingly.
For a moment he looked like he was going to argue with her, but then he let it go, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Fine."
She felt her arm getting heavy, suddenly weighing like lead, and she gladly lowered the gun again.
"You need fluid," he stated next. "I've seen a rain butt outside."
Knowing he was right, she didn't do anything to stop him, so he left, and closing her eyes for a moment she wondered if she simply didn't care if he tried to run again or if she was sure he wouldn't. He was back before she could come up with an answer.
"It's not exactly bottled water quality but it'll do," he explained, handing her what looked like an old flower pot. Avoiding to take a closer look at it, she gulped the cold liquid in one go, hoping it would show some effect. She still felt dizzy although she was resting, and she was sure she didn't look too good either. And the weaker you seem, the more vulnerable you become.
He reached out to take the now empty pot from her. "I'm going to get some more."
"Is this the boy scout in you?" she mocked but knew it was just a lame attempt to stay in control.
"I just don't want to be alone in this mess," he replied brusquely. "Cause, honestly, I wouldn't know how to explain any of it."
Again he motioned for her to hand him the pot, and she did, and he was gone again for a few moments.
It's okay. If he wanted to try anything, he would have done it by now. What better chances could he be waiting for? She hadn't been able to walk alone, let alone to fight him off if he had tried to attack her. It was okay. It was safe.
Really? Her lids suddenly felt like lead and she tore her eyes wide open. Or is that just weakness talking? Cause maybe trusting him was not exactly the smartest thing to do. He hadn't hesitated to leave her behind with Travis, wounded, and then he hadn't hesitated either to tell Jared everything he knew or assumed he knew. His loyalty simply seemed to lie with the one who was most intimidating. And a gun was always a convincing argument. So maybe he was just waiting for a better chance.
She quickly checked on her leg and noticed the blood seeping through the fabrics of her pants. Or maybe he hasn't tried anything yet because he's just a little too comfortable, knowing that you need him.
He was back, and she drank slower this time, watching him walk over to one of the windows.
The problem was she couldn't quite figure him out yet, what he wanted. And given the way he was staring into space now, she guessed he didn't really know himself.
She had probably not been that far off earlier in the car – he was trying to do what's right. Only he couldn't seem to decide which right. What was right for him or right in a more general perspective, right in accordance with his morals or according to the law. And she wondered where this struggle originated from.
The nausea came back and she felt lightheaded, and realized she wouldn't be holding up much longer. But you have to! The alternative was just not acceptable. Not with him being around, not without… . She shook her head, trying to fight the feeling of faintness, trying to force her body to obey her will but deep down knowing already she wouldn't succeed. Come on, stay awake, just a little longer. She tried to straighten up.
"What happens next?" she heard him ask, still standing by the window with his back turned on her, and she raised her arm, trying to train the gun on him when her view got blurry. You have to… She had to do something before it was too late. Cause what would he do once she was out? She couldn't take the risk, she couldn't allow him to… . Do it!
"What happens when it's dark?" she heard his voice through the midst, and a silly thought flashed her mind, right before everything went black.
When it's dark, the monsters are coming out to play.
¤¤¤
"What happens next?" he wanted to know, tired of dancing around it. She had told him she wanted to cross the border? Fine. She could go all the way to China for all he cared. But what was going to happen to him? He didn't want to wait or guess any longer. He needed to know.
"What happens when it's dark?" he asked, and turned around when she didn't answer, just in time to see her head dropping back, her eyes fluttering shut, and she fell back into the cushions.
She passed out.
He took a deep breath. And just stood there for a while, insecure what to do, not even sure what to think. He was relieved, of course. This meant that he was safe. It means I'm in control. And he marveled at the feeling, somehow expecting it to be better though.
He sighed, and walked over to the couch, where he stopped and stared down at her. Was she alright?
She was definitely out, her skin color an unhealthy white except for a red smear in her face from when she had touched the makeshift bandage around her leg and then ran a hand over her forehead. He had glimpsed it earlier but now, for some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off of it. Lying there, she suddenly seemed smaller, her features not relaxed but less harsh and scheming, and he couldn't shake the thought of an injured bird.
Jesus, what's wrong with me? He had to come to his senses.
He bent forward and took the gun out of her hand, checking her pulse while he watched her chest rising and falling in a somewhat steady rhythm. She seemed okay under the circumstances.
He straightened up again and took a last look at her before he turned around and walked outside to sit on the doorstep, watching the sun descending somewhere over the tree line.
Absentmindedly, his fingers started playing with the gun, stroking the cold metal of the barrel while his mind was racing. He had to make his decision now, as long as she was still out. And as long as she's still alive. Passing out was certainly not a good sign and it didn't take a doctor to tell him that a bullet in the leg wasn't healthy. Just like it wouldn't take a jurist either to tell him what was the right and the only right thing to do.
Someone help me, he thought to himself, running a hand through his hair and suddenly feeling awfully alone. Finally, he put the gun down next to him and reached into his pocket, fumbling for his cell phone.