Latrodectus Mactans
As the others sat there, stunned, Maggie suddenly turned her gun on Vivien, making her freeze in fright.
"Get up," Maggie ordered.
Vivien slowly got to her feet, heart in mouth.
"Don't do this, Maggie, you're better than that, than them," Tom said quietly, struggling to stay in his seat, scared any swift movement would make her open fire.
Maggie just ignored him, all her attention riveted on Vivien. "I don't know who you are or what you are," Maggie said slowly, "but the next time you try to break Pope's nose, you better try harder, or even better, break his neck. Got it?"
Vivien nodded, her jaw tightening. Maggie studied her for a moment before finally deigning to lower her gun, something in Vivien's silence satisfying her.
"Dad, we don't have time for this," Hal hastily interjected, exchanging a glance with Anne, both silently agreeing this was not the time to tell Tom the Doctor had been shot. "Weaver's evacuating everyone to a factory nearby, but God knows how that's going to go down if Pope gets to them and that GTO first."
"Then we better get moving," Maggie said smartly, pulling out her knife before striding towards Tom who stood up somewhat nervously, still unable to believe what Maggie had just done. "Don't look so scared, big boy," Maggie said, rolling her eyes as she cut him loose, "I'm not going to Sweeney Todd you - yet."
Tom just raised his eyebrows, trying to keep his cool so nobody could see that she was scaring the pants off him.
"What about Click?" Anthony asked quietly as Maggie finished cutting the rest of them free.
"We'll come back for him, I promise," Tom said, his voice cracking, "but right now, we have to deal with Pope."
"You're forgetting your girlfriend," Maggie said dryly, jerking her head at Vivien. "You bringing her along to meet your folks or what?"
Tom ran his hand hopelessly over his beard, sensing this was going to get nasty. As though to prove his point, Vivien suddenly sprang to life, doing a runner. Tom tore after her, his long limbs giving him the advantage, the others scattering as he grabbed her from behind, wrapping his arms around her middle, pinning her to him. The next few moments saw mayhem ensue, Vivien twisting and turning, trying to sink her teeth into him, Tom swerving and swaying almost comically, cursing her as he did so.
"You seriously bringing that back with us!?" Hal said incredulously.
"Yeah, I am!" Tom bellowed, nearly losing his balance.
"For God's sake, somebody get us some rope!" Dai hollered, rushing forward, trying to help Tom pinion Vivien's arms behind her back.
Hal dashed off to find some, but Karen was quicker on the draw, binding Vivien's wrists together, before doing her ankles, diving out of the way as Vivien tried to kick her in the face. Maggie threw herself into the fray, hastily gagging Vivien, barely avoiding getting her fingers bitten off, Anthony throwing one of the black cloth bags over Vivien's head, hiding her contorted face from sight. Then Vivien was being swung off her feet and over Tom's shoulder, her body thrashing wildly as she drummed her bloodied bare feet into Tom's back.
"Would you stop that!?" Tom shouted, Vivien simply kicking him again for good measure.
"I can see who wears the trousers in your house," Maggie said, smirking a little, "and it sure as hell ain't you, Cambridge."
"Come on, Tom!" Dai shouted, sticking his head out of the pick-up window.
"Yeah, we've got Pope's filthy ass to kick to kingdom come," Maggie hollered from the back of the pick-up, "and we're not going to do it sitting out here like a bunch of dames at a Daughters of the American Revolution re-enactment."
"I'm coming, I'm coming," Tom bellowed, feeling every one of his forty years as he crossed the lot, Vivien slung over his shoulder like an old carpet, unaware that he was being watched from the shadows by ruby-red eyes glimmering in the moonlight.
During the frenzied preparations of loading up the pick-up with ammo and weapons, he'd taken Vivien backstage, before setting her down on her feet and removing the bag from her head. She'd lunged at him, and he'd ducked, rugby-tackling her against the wall, saying from between gritted teeth that he just wanted to talk to her. She'd fallen still, and he'd fallen silent, not sure what he was going to say after all. And what could he have said anyways? He could hardly apologise to the enemy, could he? She might have bought them some time with her bargaining skills, but he'd saved her from Pope as she'd saved him and his, so they were even, yet this logic did nothing to stop the sense of unease slowly stirring his conscience into consciousness.
"The greater the difficulty, the more glory in surmounting it. Skillful pilots gain their reputation from storms and tempests," Tom murmured to himself as he clambered into the pick-up cab, Hal and Dai exchanging raised eyebrows as he shifted Vivien into a more seemly position, trying to sit her decorously on his lap, Tom feeling like a dirty old man as he did so. "Sorry," he said to her, flushing horribly, "just... just hang on."
"Hang onto what, old man? You?" Hal said, rolling his eyes. "Her hands are tied behind her back in case you haven't noticed."
"It's more like you'll be hanging onto our resident double-agent," Dai added, kicking the engine into gear. "But I'm sure you'll enjoy that, oh great bearded leader."
"What, you think this is funny?" Tom spat. "You think I'm getting some sick thrill out of this? Click is dead and God knows what's going down back at base. This isn't the time for levity!"
Under the darkness of the black cloth bag, Vivien inwardly cursed the 2nd Mass to kingdom come, before coldly and deliberately leaning her head against Tom's shoulder, the gesture making Tom tense up, the others exchanging frightened glances.
"Whoa," Hal said, starting to get freaked out now. "Why did she just do that?"
"Think she fancies a taste of Tom?" Dai said darkly.
"Latrodectus mactans," Tom said before he could stop himself.
"Sorry, didn't quite catch that, Professor," Dai said, pretending to frown.
"Latrodectus mactans, the venomous New World spider more commonly known as the black widow" -
- "That's enough, Dad," Hal said hastily, "we get the picture."
"And what a picture," Dai said even more darkly.
"Why are we going to ground anyways?" Hal said, changing the subject. "As soon as we set up camp anywhere, these things are on top of us like a duck on a June bug."
"The metaphors tonight are just killing me," Dai said dryly, "first Maggie with her 'dames', now you with your June bugs."
"Going to ground was never a feasible plan," Tom said tersely.
"So why would Porter issue such an order?" Hal asked.
"Because his back's against the wall."
"And so's ours now," Dai said.
"We can't hunker down and hope for the best, Dad," Hal said, brow furrowing.
"We were never going to," Tom said in a low voice that shook slightly, "not with Ben out there."
Caught in a spider's web
It's not the first time playing dead
I see, I saw lovers undercover
No one found out until we left…
Shouts and gunshots greeted their arrival, the sound turning Tom's blood cold, thinking that it might be too late. Maggie and the others leapt out of the back of the pick-up, Hal and Dai hastily clambering out of its cab, Maggie shoving AK-47s into their arms, Anne disappearing into the darkness. Tom awkwardly set Vivien down on the cab seat, hesitating before removing the black cloth bag from her head, so she could breathe at least. Blinking rapidly, Vivien stared at him with baleful blue eyes, careful to keep the rest of her filthy face a blank mask.
Without thinking, Tom reached out his hand, tentatively smoothing her tangled black hair back. As he did, their eyes met, the world seeming to hang in the balance between them. And then he was gone, slamming the door behind him, locking her in. Vivien exhaled sharply, not even realising she'd been holding her breath. Dismissing her discomfort, she slid the flick-knife she'd stolen from Tom's belt, out from under the sleeve of Pope's shirt, flipping it open with a flourish. Under the cover of cosying up to Tom, she'd found a way to free herself. After all, didn't the Doctor say she could flirt her way out of anything?
But her triumph was short-lived, escaping easier said than done, time ticking past, Vivien's neck killing her from craning it so much over her shoulder. She glanced up as the racket of gunfire ricocheted around the trees, the sound now too close for her taste. Gritting her teeth, she tried to saw the blade back and forth faster, the hemp starting to split under the increased pressure. Focusing on the now fraying cord, she gave it a sharp twist or two, before finally breaking it in half. Sliding the rest of the rope from her aching wrists, she then tore the gag from her mouth, chucking it aside, before hacking the rope binding her ankles together.
Without wasting anymore time, she immediately started searching for the keys to the pick-up, ransacking the glove compartment, scattering maps and jigsaw pieces of all things to the wind. But there were no keys to be found. Usually Dai left them dangling in the ignition in case of the need for a quick getaway, but not this time. He had taken them with him, not risking leaving them within easy reach of an enemy hand.
In frustration, Vivien slammed the dashboard with her fist, furiously cursing the 2nd Mass as she did so. Hoping against hope, she tried the doors, but they were both locked, making something inside her crack. She booted the cab door with her bare foot, only to instantly regret it, agony shooting like arrows through her. Choking down a howl, she sat there for a moment, thinking fast through the pain. Folding the flick-knife up, she wrapped her fingers around it, using its hard handle to smash the window. It took a few tries of repeating slamming, but the glass eventually began to crack, before splintering and finally breaking.
Wincing slightly, she tried to clear away the broken shards still jutting out of the frame, cutting her hand in the process. Then she was sliding herself through the empty window, hanging onto the roof, teeth gritted, stomach sucked in, trying in vain to avoid what was left of the broken glass still sticking out, littering the seat and foot well. But despite her best efforts, narrow rivulets of blood ran down her legs and arms, tiny pin-pricks of glass becoming embedded in the bloodied soles of her feet.
Reaching back through the window, Vivien picked up the flick-knife from where she'd left it on the dashboard, before straightening up and surveying her surroundings. She was in some sort of clearing, trapped by trees on almost all sides, the sounds of battle still echoing through their branches. Turning on the spot, she studied the pick-up for a moment, exulting over escaping her prison, before hastily ducking down behind it as somebody unseen hollered, THIS WAY!, fighters and soldiers suddenly emerging from the shadows, running past the other side of the pick-up, heading in the direction of the fight.
One of them slowed down, saying, ain't that Tom's truck? But somebody up ahead bellowed at them to hurry up, making them speed on, much to Vivien's relief. As they disappeared amongst the trees, Vivien made to stand before freezing, caught in a ridiculous half crouch as the sound of wheezing filled the air, followed by mumbled cursing. Risking a peep, she raised her head, watching as the straggler, overweight and obviously too old to fight, dragged his feet to a halt, before bending over and clutching his chest like he was having a heart attack, Vivien heartily hoping he wasn't.
"Who's there?" the straggler suddenly shouted, startling her. "Goddamn show yaself!"
Vivien held her breath, not quite sure what to do next, or what exactly she could do. The straggler straightened up, panting as he peeled the strap of his rifle from his shoulder, raising it to eye-level as he circled wildly on the spot, trying to find his target. She crouched lower, trying to keep out of sight, not fancying a bullet between her eyes.
"I'm warnin' ya, I'm armed!" the straggler yelled, a fat finger curling around the trigger, beads of sweat dripping down his brow as he tried to conceal the panic colouring his voice. Almost automatically, Vivien's hand closed around a stout tree branch lying by her feet, blood pounding in her ears as she picked it up. Then she was creeping around the side of the pick-up, sneaking up on the straggler from behind...
But as she drew closer, she stepped on a twig, the sound of it snapping going off like a gunshot, making the straggler whirl around with surprising speed. Panicking, she suddenly brought the branch down on his skull, his chubby hand flying out to stop her but to no avail. For a long moment she stared at his body sprawled at her feet, shock coursing through her veins -
An explosion hit, flinging her backwards, a blast of blue light flooding through the trees, the ground shaking like an earthquake beneath her. Then all was still, the silence hitting her like an aftershock. She lay there for a long moment, before rolling onto her side, trying to work up the temerity to get up. Head spinning, ears ringing, she staggered to her feet, swaying on the spot like a drunken sailor, the silence now drilling into her skull.
She just stood there, unsure, her gaze falling upon the body of the straggler she'd struck, bile rising afresh in her throat. She'd just killed a man, his blood on her hands - The straggler stirred, a terrible groan escaping from him, making her jump violently. Then she sagged with relief that he was still alive. Rushing forwards, she hastily put him into the recovery position, struggling to manoeuvre his vast girth as she did so –
Vivien suddenly straightened up as she caught a flash of movement amongst the trees. Squinting, she struggled to make out what it was, whether it was human or not. Thinking it was better to be safe than sorry, she snatched up the straggler's rifle, raising it as the flash became a figure, a horribly familiar long-haired figure. As Pope drew closer, not seeing her at first, being too busy glancing over his shoulder as he ran, she tensed up, remembering all he and his had inflicted on her, and then he was there before her, skidding to a halt, hands raised in front of him at the sight of her raised rifle.
"Whoa!" Pope exclaimed, looking her up and down in disbelief. "I see you've gone native, Red-Coat."
"Shut the hell up, Pope," Vivien snapped, trying to look like she'd been holding a rifle all her life, instead of the last two minutes, "just stay where I can see you."
"Has your precious professor left you high and dry, princess?" Pope taunted, edging forwards despite her words. "If you want a real man, maybe you should think about teaming up with yours truly - we could take down Skitter Central together, you and me saving the world one dead cootie at a time."
"Yeah, when hell freezes over," Vivien retorted.
"Already has, sweetheart."
"I couldn't put it better myself," Weaver said dryly, stepping out from the shadows, his gun raised, lip bleeding, "now put your goddamn hands in the air."