Chapter 12

Lester had begrudgingly agreed to keep an eye on the baby when Cutter and Conner hastily explained the situation; however, he only did so when Cutter promised (untruthfully) that she was unlikely to wake up again until later that morning. They left Becker asleep, as Cutter was sure that the more people went, the more danger they'd likely be in, but they did sneak a couple of guns from his stash for good measure. As they crept outside, Cutter was thrilled to see that puddles of oil were spotted along the road, carrying on into the distance - they had a trail to follow! He was sure they hadn't been there before. Both men began to sprint forward, following the splodges silently; the only sound to be heard was the patting of their feet on the concrete.

"I can believe that Abby wouldn't tell me they were going," Conner gasped after a while.

"She probably knew you'd try and stop her," Cutter reasoned, slightly out of breath.

"Would you have stopped Jenny if she had told you?" Conner enquired, slowing down his pace.

"I would have tied her to the bed."

"Eeew," Conner shuddered.

"You know what I mean," Cutter gasped, stopping and bending over with his hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath.

"WAY too much information . . ." Conner continued, stopping at Cutter's side.

"The oil trail stops here," Cutter pointed out, ignoring Conner's comment - that conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn.

Conner followed his gaze and groaned.

"They must have gone on foot the rest of the way," he said, pointing at an abandoned broken down car. "What now?"

Cutter was thinking hard, but if he was honest with himself, he had no clue as to which way they should go; why had he never asked Jenny where her parents lived?

"I think we should keep going straight ahead," Conner reasoned. "Because Jenny's really posh - no offence - but all the toff houses are that way - "

"Shut up," Cutter barked, holding his hand up. He was sure he'd heard something.

They listened for a while.

"What?" Conner said finally. "I can't hear anything . . ."

Cutter shook his head in a defiant movement, forcing him into silence again. He could defiantly hear noises coming from in front of them.

"Come on," he said to Conner, before running off; the student huffing behind him.

As they ran, the sound became more defined and discernable . . . it was a woman screaming . . . it was Jenny screaming . . .

Oh God, Cutter thought to himself, fear flooding through him.

He increased his speed so he was sprinting flat out; Conner (who had finally picked up on the noise) was by his side, running as fast as he could. Finally, an image came into view . . . Abby was lying in the middle of the road, and Jenny was leaning over her, her shoulders shaking. What . . . ?

"Jenny!" Cutter yelled, his confusion turning into down right terror- there was a pool of blood around them.

Jenny looked up, her face was stained with tears and blood.

The men reached them, and Cutter's stomach tightened sickeningly; Abby was motionless, and a bloody wound on her stomach was visible in the dim dawn light. Cutter scampered to Abby's side, temporarily speechless as the severity of the girls injury became clear. He looked up at Jenny; she was covered in blood; her face, her hands, her blouse. And she was crying uncontrollably.

"What happened?" Cutter demanded, finally finding his voice.

He heard Conner behind him vomit on the ground with a sickening squelch.

"I . . . I . . . I don't know," Jenny sobbed, unable to speak properly; her breathing was erratic. "Some . . . someone . . . shot . . . over there . . ." she finished, gesturing over to a clump of trees on the other side of the road.

"Abby?" Cutter said, loudly and clearly. "Abby? Can you hear me?"

No response.

"Conner, give me your jacket," Cutter demanded, turning around to see him stood shock still, gapping at the sight in front of him. "Conner, now!"

"Okay, right," he said in a panicked voice, struggling out of his jacket.

Cutter took it and pressed it to Abby's stomach.

"Hold that there," he told Jenny, trying to keep his head clear and not succumb to his terror.

Jenny did as she was told, her bloodied hands shaking as she held the jacket in place.

"Keep the pressure on it," Cutter added, as he leaned up on his knees.

He put his hands over the left side of Abby's chest and started heart compressions; he needed to keep the blood circulating . . .

"When I say so, you pinch her nose and breathe into her mouth," he added to Jenny, who nodded immediately. "Do it for one second; no longer . . . now."

Jenny followed his instructions and, still keeping one hand on the jacket, she breathed a shaky breath into Abby; her chest rose and fell, and then remained motionless.

"Again," Cutter demanded.

She repeated the action, still sobbing as she pulled away.

There was no response.

"Shit," Cutter muttered, resuming the compressions.

"She's going to be okay, right?" Conner's voice squeaked from behind him.

Cutter didn't reply; he didn't want to reply . . .

"Come on," Cutter mumbled to Abby as he pressed on her chest. "Come on . . ."

He put his unsteady fingers to her neck, searching for a pulse that wasn't there . . .

He sat back on the floor, numbness clenching up inside of him . . . she was gone . . . she'd lost to much blood . . .

"No you've got to keep trying!" Conner bellowed, falling to his knees next to him. "You can't just give up!"

"Conner - "

"NO!" Conner refused to listen, leaning in to Abby's face. "Abby, wake up . . . please wake up!"

Cutter watched, powerless to do anything more.

Jenny got to her feet, running her blood-stained hands through her hair. She staggered over to a nearby car and placed her hands on it; leaning forward as a fresh wave of sobs enveloped her. It looked as though she was struggling to stop herself from collapsing.

"Abby, come back . . ." Conner cried, cradling her in his arms. "Come back . . ."

"Conner - " Cutter began, putting his hands on his shoulders to pull him away.

But Conner wrenched himself out of his grip. So Cutter got up and walked over to Jenny; his legs felt like they didn't work properly anymore. She didn't look up at him; she looked to ashamed of herself to meet his eye.

"How could you be so stupid?" Cutter spat at her before he could stop himself; it was all too fresh . . . too new . . .

She didn't reply; only screwed up her face, the tears still falling like a waterfall down her cheeks. He felt a twinge of guilt shoot through him as he watched her; he knew she wasn't responsible . . . she hadn't asked for this . . .

"This is all your fault," Conner stated in a tone Cutter had never heard him use before; full of hate and contempt. He was looking at Jenny.

Jenny turned around to face him, but she didn't argue, she just bowed her head in shame.

"I'm sorry," she whispered eventually, her voice cracking.

"Sorry?" Conner repeated spitefully. "You're sorry?"

He lowered Abby's body to the ground gently and stood up, trembling all over.

"You," he said aggressively, pointing a shaking finger at her. "You caused this; you made her go with you . . ."

"No," Jenny sobbed, shaking her head.

"Don't even try to deny it!" Conner bellowed as he approaching her.

Cutter jumped forward and put his hand on Conner's chest to push him away from her; he knew that there wasn't a violent bone in his body, but he was upset; he wasn't thinking straight. Jenny didn't show any surprise at his reaction; it was as if she thought she deserved it.

"That's enough," Cutter said sternly to Conner.

"No!" Conner cried, punching him in the chest.

But Cutter didn't react, he only put his arms around him.

"No . . ." he sobbed, still faintly beating Cutter in the chest before he succumbed to tears. "No . . ."

Cutter hugged him back tightly, allowing him to cry on his shoulder without rushing him.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," a cold familiar voice spoke from in front of them.

Helen.