Chapter 10

"If you have something to tell me Helen, just say it and get out," Jenny snapped, torn between her desire to reach for the knife again and her instinct not to antagonize the woman.

"Now now, why rush it?" Helen sighed indulgently, stretching her arms out lazily. As her jacket moved, exposing her side, Jenny caught a glimpse of a gun in a holster, and her stomach seemed to disappear. "We haven't seen each other in so long, after all."

Jenny's gaze snapped back up from the now concealed gun to Helen's eyes, and she knew by the way the woman's smile broadened that she had seen the terror in her face.

"If what you've got to say is so important, why did you come to me?" Jenny asked, forcing her voice to remain steady. "Why didn't you go to Nick? Or Lester?"

"Because you have that - " she pointed up to the ceiling " - upstairs."

"Ben?" Jenny said, bemused. "What's he got to do with it?"

"Nothing," she answered immediately. "It's more to the fact that him being here makes you a tad more receptive to hearing me out. I doubt Nick would listen to me without your cajoling, and Lester would be as likely to shoot me on sight than hear what I've got to say."

Jenny chuckled coldly. "Pity you didn't pay him a visit then."

"You know, that mouth of yours is going to get you into a lot of trouble one day," Helen said coolly.

Jenny folded her arms, and surveyed her for a moment, determined not to be intimidated by the implication of that comment.

"Why are you here Helen?" Jenny spoke eventually, ensuring that her tone was firm, making it quite clear that she wasn't to be drawn into casual conversation with the woman. "What do you want?"

Helen paused for a moment, as though considering something. Then, mind apparently made up, she turned, her sharp movement making Jenny jump slightly before she composed herself and watched as Helen retrieved a large black shoulder bag from the corner. She reached inside and pulled out what looked like a thick file, throwing it on the counter with a loud thud.

Jenny glanced down at it, her hands on her hips. "Is that supposed to mean anything to me?" she asked.

"It's the research I've been doing since the anomalies have stopped opening," Helen explained in a brusque tone.

"And what am I supposed to do with it?"

"Give it to Nick and Lester," she replied, sliding it across the table towards Jenny. "I know the ARC's still looking for me, and I have no intention of spending the rest of my days locked in some government volt. So you can be the carrier pigeon. I'm sure it'll make a fascinating read for them."

"I'm not doing anything for you," Jenny retorted, throwing her a dirty look.

"Think of it as more as a public service," Helen said cryptically. "You haven't got much time before it begins."

"Before what begins?" Jenny asked, feeling her stomach churn.

Helen looked as though she was about to reply, but a sudden hammering on the front door made them both start.

"JENNY!" Nick's muffled voice shouted.

Instinctually, Jenny made to sprint towards the door, but she had only moved a few paces when she felt herself being dragged back by her hair. It was a few seconds before she realised that something sharp was being pressed against her throat, and she gasped when she figured out what it was, her blood turning to ice.

The knife.

"Sssh!" Helen hissed in her ear, pulling Jenny back into herself. "If you make one sound, I won't hesitate to - "

"JENNY, OPEN THE BLOODY DOOR!" Nick bellowed again, still banging incessantly. "OPEN IT!"

Jenny screwed up her face as the blade was pressed closer to her neck, her desperation to get to Nick all-consuming.

"JENNY!" he yelled again.

"He's not going to go away!" Jenny gasped to Helen.

"I suppose your brat phoned him from upstairs?" she said, her voice sounding bitter. "Well I'll tell you something - if he steps one foot in here, your little boy's going to be a mummy short."

"You haven't got the guts!" Jenny spat, acting much braver than she felt.

"Do you really want to put that theory to the test?" she sneered, pulling back her hair more to expose her throat further.

Unexpectedly, the knocking on the door ceased, and everything fell silent.

"See," Helen cackled, loosening her grip on her ever so slightly. "He mustn't care that much about you if he's just given up so easily."

"Or maybe he's gone to call Lester to get a few trigger-happy soldiers down here?" Jenny suggested venomously, even though she thought it unlikely - but it wouldn't be like Nick to just leave . . .

"For your sake, I hope not," Helen whispered dangerously.

Panicking beyond belief, Cutter stepped back, surveying the thick door frantically, looking for a point of weakness. He knew Jenny was in there, but something was clearly stopping her from answering the door - or someone. Gearing himself up for the impact, he moved back further before taking a run at the door, kicking it with as much force as he could muster. Surprisingly, the door flew open and banged against the wall with a crash, and without hesitating, he sprinted inside, instinctually running straight to the kitchen.

The sight that greeted him made him freeze, paralysed with fright.

Jenny, dressed in a vest top and pajama shorts, was being held by Helen tightly. Helen had hold of Jenny's hair, pulling back her head onto her own shoulder, holding a large gleaming knife against Jenny's neck. From the way a thin line of red had appeared on Jenny's pale skin, the sharp weapon had already cut her slightly.

"Helen . . ." Cutter began in a trembling voice.

"Hello Nick," the woman said, her tone almost disgustingly amused. "It's been a long time. I see that you've been busy since I've been gone. Have you missed me?"

"Well, considering you're about to slit my wife's throat, I don't think so," Cutter replied, his eyes meeting Jenny's, trying to convey without words that everything was going to be okay.

"There'll be no slitting of any throats," Helen said, her cold eyes gleaming. "That is if you turn around and walk out of here now. Jenny and I were in the middle of a very stimulating conversation before you so rudely interrupted. And as I'm not in the mood to be detained by the government, I won't speak to anyone else about it."

"Nick, go and get Ben out of here," Jenny spoke, her voice much stronger than Cutter had anticipated.

"No, I'm not leaving you here," he argued immediately.

"Do it!" she said firmly, her eyes widening in a pleading gesture.

"If you don't Nick, I can't be held responsible for my actions," Helen interjected, and by the way Jenny winced, she had obviously pressed the knife closer to her neck.

"How can I?" he asked quietly, speaking to Jenny.

"Nick, if you love me, you'll get our son away from this psychopath!" she shouted, clearly losing her temper. "Just go! I'll be fine."

He hesitated, completely torn between getting his son to safety and rescuing Jenny.

"Nick, I swear to god, if you don't get him away from here, I'll come over there and beat you to death myself!" Jenny added, gritting her teeth against the obvious pressure of the knife.

She was right of course - the only way Helen was going to let go of her is if he left, and Jenny would obviously be calmed knowing that Ben was safe. Reluctantly, his heart aching, he slowly backed away towards the stairs, keeping his eyes fixed on them incase something happened.

When he was a reasonable distance away, he saw Helen drop the knife slightly away from Jenny. After that, everything happened so fast -

All he saw was Jenny fling her head backwards, butting Helen so hard in the nose that the woman staggered back, the knife falling from her hand as she clutched her face. Jenny cried out in pain too, her hand on her neck, blood seeping through her fingers - Helen had obviously cut her as a reflex. Jenny pulled her shaking hand away from her throat, and after she had seen the blood on it, she turned and launched at Helen. Both of them hit the floor hard, entwined, limbs flying everywhere as they fought.

As Cutter's shock abated, he rushed over to them in time to see Jenny punching her, the force of her fist sending Helen's head flying to the side. It soon became clear that Jenny had no intention of stopping, and Cutter found himself having little desire to pull her away, knowing that Helen deserved everything she got - but still, if Jenny wasn't careful, she was going to go too far. Mind made up, he flung his arms around Jenny's waist, and with difficulty, pulled her off Helen.

"You're going to kill her!" he barked as Jenny struggled in his arms to get back to Helen.

"Nick, she's got a gun!" Jenny cried, trying to prize his arms off her.

But Cutter didn't absorb her warning until it was too late, and in a flash, Helen was on her feet, her face bloodied, but a smile on her lips as she pointed a gun directly at them. Both Jenny and Cutter froze.

"Big mistake," Jenny breathed to him numbly, panting hard against his arms that were wrapped underneath her chest.

"Helen - don't do anything stupid," Cutter said in a strained voice as he slowly disengaged himself from Jenny and gently pushed her behind him.

"No, I think stupid would be defined as attacking an armed woman," she said, looking at Jenny smugly. "Especially since I was here to do you a favour."

"You held a knife to my neck!" Jenny yelled from behind him.

"And why would you want to do us a favour?" Cutter asked, forcing his voice to remain calm. "When have you ever cared about helping people?"

"I don't," she replied, her gun still held high. "But when you read what I've found out, you'll see why I had to pass my research on to you. The threats a little to serious to be shrugged off. And I know you're a little slow Nick, so you were bound not to know what's coming."

"What do you mean 'what's coming'?" Jenny demanded, her disdain for the woman evident in the iciness of her voice.

"Where do you think all the energy's gone Nick?" Helen asked, seemingly out of the blue. "The energy that's been causing the anomalies to open?"

"I - " Cutter stammered, slightly taken aback - it was a question that he'd been asking himself as well.

"Because that amount of energy can't just disappear," Helen continued, sounding like she was explaining why one plus one equals two to a toddler. "It can only be channeled into something else."

"I assumed it had been used up by past anomalies," Cutter answered uncertainly.

"Or," Helen sighed, rolling her eyes as though disappointed by his lack of knowledge. "The energy's been building up, ready for a cataclysmic event."

"I - I don't understand - "

"Of course you don't," Helen simpered, gesturing down to the research file. "But you will once you've read that - "

"Mummy . . ." Ben's voice interjected, sounding small and scared.

His stomach squirming uncomfortably, Cutter's head snapped around. His son was standing in the kitchen doorway, his eyes traveling over the scene in front of him. Immediately, Helen lowered the gun and held it down by her side, which Cutter couldn't help but feel a tad grateful for.

"We were just playing a little game," Helen said in a false sweet voice.

"Can - can I play?" Ben asked hopefully.

Cutter glanced around at Jenny, who had turned away from her son, her hand to her neck again, clearly trying to hide the fact that she was hurt.

"Another time perhaps," Helen smiled indulgently. "I've got to be going now Ben. But I promise, I'll come and visit you again soon."

Jenny chuckled coldly, although she held her tongue, obviously not wanting to tell her to go to hell in front of Ben.

Helen turned to Cutter as she slid her gun back into the holster. "Read it," she stated simply, placing her hand on the research file before giving him a curt nod.

With that, she turned and left.

Ben shuffled forwards into the room, beaming up at Cutter as though he was pleased to see him. However, when his eyes rested on Jenny, he frowned.

"Mummy, what's that?" he asked, pointing at her neck that she hadn't been able to conceal properly.

"I - I cut myself," she replied immediately, clutching her neck tighter.

"How?"

"I fell over," she lied, looking thoroughly ambushed.

"Hey Ben," Cutter interjected, crouching down so that he was eye-level with his son. "I've got to take care of mummy for a minute, because she was silly enough to cut herself," he sighed with a mock roll of his eyes. "Now will you do me a big favour and go and watch the telly?"

"No, I want him with me incase she comes back," Jenny interrupted sternly.

Cutter stood up and glanced around at her, flashing her a warning look. "You want him to watch as I clean up your blood?" he added to her in an undertone.

"I don't care Nick - I want him here," Jenny snapped, her voice quivering.

"She's not going to come back," Cutter whispered in a reassuring voice. "And he'll just be in the next room. I'll go and make sure everything's locked."

She bit her lip, looking like she was going to continue to argue, but eventually, she nodded slightly, her crimson-streaked hand still pressed against her bleeding neck.

Once Ben was settled and the house secured, Jenny reluctantly allowed Nick to sit her down as he fished around in the medicine cabinet.

"You know, you could have gotten yourself killed," he said sternly as he pulled out the antiseptic liquid.

"Well what was I supposed to do? Play along when I knew she had a gun on her?" Jenny snapped coldly, watching as he poured a copious amount of the antiseptic onto a flannel.

"No of course not, you were supposed to head butt her when she had a knife pressed against your neck," he answered sarcastically.

"I was panicking!" she protested hotly. "I couldn't think of anything else to do!"

"Hold still a minute," he said, tilting her chin upwards.

He pressed the sodden cloth against her cut, and she gasped, gritting her teeth as pain shot through her.

"Sorry," he sighed, his brow furrowed as he cleaned her wound. "Maybe I should take you to hospital?"

"No," she said immediately, gripping his arm as the singing sensation refused to leave. "I'm fine."

"You might need stitches?"

"It's not that deep," she pointed out, looking up into his concerned eyes. His face was incredibly close to hers, one of his hands holding the flannel, the other resting on the side of her face gently. His gaze was fixed on her neck, his eyes only traveling up to meet hers when she inhaled sharply again as a particularly nasty twinge emanated from the cut.

"Sorry," he breathed again, but she was hardly listening, so lost was she in the pools of those blue eyes.

It was only when he cleared his throat and looked away that she remembered herself and shuffled away from him, crossing her legs awkwardly. He reached for a bandage.

"Um, I'm not wearing one of them around my neck," she snorted.

"Oh, don't be so vain," he said airily, unraveling the white material. "Come here."

"No!" she scoffed, batting his hand away. "I need to have a shower anyway, and it'll just get wet."

"Well go and have a shower now then," he said, placing the roll of bandages down on the counter and resting his hand on her arm.

"Ben - " she began, about to say that she didn't want him out of her sight, but he interrupted before she could.

"I'll watch him," he soothed. "You just go and relax. I'll make him some breakfast."

She offered him a weak smile, and got down off the stool, accidently brushing against him as she did so, making a spark of electricity shoot through her.

"Nick?" she said, unable to stop herself.

He looked up at her questioningly.

"I - " she began, but she stopped, unsure of how to put it. Eventually, she decided to just come out with it. "Thank you," she said quietly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "For coming round here for us."

He nodded, looking slightly taken aback. "Of course."

She smiled again, and turned to leave.

Jenny felt a lot better after a shower, as though the water had washed away the all fear and panic. Well, maybe it was the shower - or maybe it was the fact that she knew Nick was downstairs; his presence offering her comfort and reassurance despite the fact that she was deeply rattled by Helen showing up. He hadn't made her feel this at ease since she had found out about Claudia. Before then of course, she always seen him as a calming presence in her life, as he always had the uncanny ability to make her feel safe without so much as speaking a word.

She wrapped her dressing gown around herself, and pressed a towel against her hair to dry it as she walked back down the stairs. As she suspected, she found Nick still in the kitchen, sitting on the stool, although she was slightly surprised to find him with his head buried in the research file Helen had left behind. As soon as she looked at him, she could tell that something was wrong.

"Nick?" she asked, approaching him slowly, her eyes serching his face. "What is it?"

He looked up at her, worry etched in every line of his expression. "We need to get everyone together at the ARC. Now," he said in an alarmed whisper.

"Why, what is it?" she repeated, uneasiness flooding her stomach.

He sighed, running his hand over his pale face. "This is bad, Jenny," he spoke in a tense voice, gesturing down at the file on his lap. "This is very very bad."