Chapter Twenty-three
Authors Note: I feel like I've said this a lot lately, but sorry this is so late.
Nothing.
The air stirred gently as wisps of a wind passed through. Chatter lifted from the gaggle of students as their voices discussed the elephant and the weather was pleasantly warm, ideal for a school field trip. It was the perfect day for it, the early afternoon sun slightly warmer than might have been comfortable if not for the cooling breeze that wasn't too chilling. It ruffled Anya's hair and played at her clothing. An invisible force lazily pushing and pulling at them in weightless motions. The small clouds of dirt at her feet, sliding along every now and then, the skittering noises near imperceptible.
The fence she clung to shone brilliantly in the light, gleaming brightly where the sun hit and made it sparkle. It almost looked pleasant against the animals and the natural beauty that surrounded them. Occasionally the birds that sang and called, would flit to it and rest until something disturbed them and they moved on. They'd fly into the clear blue sky that promised no clouds for a while yet, the day reminiscent of nostalgic sentiments and idyllic memories. A day that could not have been more soothing or picturesque.
But nothing.
It was of no consequence.
It laid in the background unseen, unnoticed. Anya comprehended none of it, a million miles away from all that could influence or affect her, a stillness she alone felt. A moment where nothing moved or was heard. She was paralyzed in a state of breathless terror, existing on another plane that silenced and phased reality away. A strangle hold on her heart so tight, she thought it might never move again. Her mind halted, and every thought dissipated to loop on the one that remained.
He was here.
She couldn't breathe as she spiralled into panic and fear at the sight of him. Her whole being was frozen and she couldn't come to terms with it. She couldn't understand it.
His dark clothing, the bright pink hair, his authoritative stance exuding power and intimidation. The unmistakable entitlement that everything was his if he wanted it to be.
If Anya could clamp the fence any tighter, she did. If she'd had the ability to, she would've run. But as it was, she was having a hard time processing to consider that notion.
This couldn't be real. She had to be hallucinating. It was too awful to be true.
But it was his mind she unmistakably felt, shattering that desperate wish, and it was the first time he'd turned off the device that blocked her telepathy. She had never felt it without that static, that warping signal that made his mental presence feel a little different now.
And it was so much worse.
She had her first look into Kai Forester's mind and it was seething anger and burning indignation. A froth of emotions she had only experienced through his actions and temper in the past. It transmitted exactly what and how deeply he was feeling, and the ferocity with which it assaulted her, rattled her to her core. It was so much scarier to feel the all consuming rage that wrapped her in a smothering cocoon. His temperament so intense, his jaw twitched from his tightly clenched teeth and his thumbs forcefully ran over his fisted fingers that itched to take her away from this place. To take her back.
He had never been more menacing and Anya could feel his presence looming over her even at this distance. It was overpowering just as he intended. A dooming weight falling upon her to make her easier to control. He was a dark figure that appeared to instil fear and taunt her. It didn't matter how far away he stood, it didn't matter how many times she ran, it didn't matter that in that moment he couldn't reach out and touch her, because in the end, he would always find her and she couldn't escape him.
He wasn't leaving here without her.
And he knew she would know it as he stood far off like a symbol of premonition. An indication that there would be no more of this life where she went on school trips, no more ideas that she had any family other than him, no more second chances.
It made him boil when he saw her, that ridiculous uniform. She had cost him so much and this how she. . .
He couldn't finish the thought.
Anya belonged to him. She lived for him. She lived because of him. How dare she run off like it was her choice? She had work to do. He had put in too much effort, more so than the other espers, for such traitorous behaviour. She was too valuable to allow her this sort of freedom.
Anya's hands slipped from the fence and the colour restored to them as she stumbled back, pale faced, like a ghost had returned to haunt her. It was all she could manage, though she wanted to run. She wanted to hide where he would never find her and a sense of doubt crippled the idea that it was even possible.
This couldn't be happening.
'Anya.'
She flinched when Kai's voice spoke in her head and even his words dripped with vehemence. A low tone like he would do if he was speaking aloud. A way to communicate without anyone the wiser, keeping his distance where no one would notice.
'I know you can hear me and you better listen if you know what's good for you.'
This couldn't be real. He couldn't be here, she thought. His voice was condemning and it grated against each nerve and impulse to shut him out.
'Say a word to anyone, disobey what I'm about to tell you, and your friends die.'
Anya took in a shaky breath.
'I have agents posted. One wrong move and that girl you like so much is dead. Your classmates are dead. Your teacher is dead.' He said with such rough firmness, his frustration with Anya's continual rebelliousness ending any amount of patience he might have had. He was done. This was it. Either she cooperated or he would kill every person here if he had to. He was fed up with this nonsense, and it would NEVER happen again. He would see to it.
Anya took another shaky breath and fought the tears that tried to come through. She couldn't lose it here, not now.
'Soon there's going be a distraction.'
Anya started to shake, her breaths deep and far between.
'When I tell you to, you're going to break off from the group.'
No matter how heavily Anya inhaled, it couldn't seem to make its' way to her lungs. She could feel the sobs rising in her throat and her body trying to hyperventilate, but she wouldn't let it. She couldn't. Not here. So much would go wrong.
'I'll tell you where to go when it happens. When you line up again, stay at the back.'
Anya gripped her uniform, knuckles white. She was sure her heart had died, though the sound of it beating like a drum roared in her head.
'Be ready.'
And his voice disappeared. Gone. She couldn't even feel his mind, though she could still see him.
They had found a way to block her telepathy completely.
For the longest moment Anya stared at him as he walked out of sight and all she knew was the sharp fear that laced each breath and thought. She had gone cold and she didn't feel it, her hands shook and she didn't notice. She was lost in a maze and every direction led to terrible outcomes. It led to the worst times in her life that were happening all over again, it led to the many ways she couldn't get out of this, and it led off into dark ominous routes that promised horrible things she hadn't seen yet. She could feel herself crumpling under the weight of it, the fear of it. It was too much to think about, but she couldn't stop.
This couldn't be happening.
"Anya?" Becky's voice was far away and Anya looked at her in a daze. She'd been absorbed in the situation and still was, but suddenly there was a vague recognition of where she was, of the kids around her talking and screeching excitedly. The sun still shone brightly, the students were happy and the weather was perfect. It only existed in the background to Anya, a cruel joke to undermine what was taking place.
"Anya?" Becky asked again, and Anya panicked that Blackbell had picked up on her signs of distress. Anya panicked further at what would happen if Becky decided this warranted the teachers attention and fought to reel in her breathing and shaking to little avail.
Her friend waited for an answer and Anya tried, but her voice was trapped in her throat. Her tongue couldn't seem to form words. She felt as if she were in a clouded dream, movements difficult and unresponsive.
"What's wrong?" Becky asked worriedly, referring to her concerning state. "Do you feel sick? Are you okay?" She put a hand on Anya's forehead, but it wasn't feverish. This didn't assuage her, she knew something wasn't right. Anya was acting weird again and Becky was becoming increasingly frustrated that she didn't know why. The last time, it was caused by a bad dream and Anya had said it was nothing, and now it came out of nowhere. She'd been acting odd all day too, what was going on?
"I'll get the teacher." Becky meant to turn away from her, but Anya grabbed her arm.
"No, Anya's. . . . just cold." She managed in a quiet voice, the words thick and hard to get out. A lie to cover up the extraordinary amount of adrenaline racing through her. She was surprised she spoke at all.
Becky didn't believe her. Anya looked too distressed and the weather was too hot for her to shiver unless she really was sick. It was moments like these Becky wanted to press further and figure out what was going on, and on the other hand, didn't want to upset her. Becky was beginning to think she should no longer gloss over these anomalies in Anya's behaviour. Most the time she appeared to be fine, but it was instances like these that made Becky question it. It was stressing her out.
"Alright, moving on." Mr. Gable called, and Becky's skepticism was put on hold as they lined up. She questioned why Anya waited to join at the back when they could have easily been closer to the front and it raised flags she didn't even know they eluded to. It was just weird. She knew Anya had no preference where they stood in line.
She put it aside as the class trod along over the dirt path tramped down by innumerable feet over the years, and soon the ground shifted to railed wooden walkways. The breeze receded as the cover of trees flanked their sides and the sun beat down on the students black uniforms, now with no relief from the wind. Anya's palms sweated and she had never wanted to take the bandages off so badly. Her movements were stiff and she walked along with the class, antsy and high strung. She thought she might throw up if she let herself.
Sounds of the children floated down to her, and Becky also talked, though Anya hardly listened. Her perceived fortress of safety had been ripped down and it was all she could do to dwell in the resulting vulnerability. The security that had been building and building since her return home, had crumbled the instant she knew the director was here.
Anya didn't know if she could do this. She was too afraid, too aware of what would happen afterwards. She couldn't do it again, she simply couldn't, it was too much.
But what did she do? What about her classmates? There was no way she ran, and they weren't harmed. Or her, for that matter, they'd certainly catch her anyway.
Anya took hold of Becky's hand in a reach for comfort and Becky thought nothing of it. Anya hoped it wouldn't be the last time. Her parents would come for her, like before. They would come, they would come, they would come. They wouldn't abandon her.
She was pretty sure.
It didn't matter how many times she heard them think or say they'd protect her, a trace of doubt consistently survived her attempts to erase it. As if it were a scar that wouldn't fade.
Anya barely acknowledged she was moving and fought to keep herself together. She wished she knew how to make the line stop. Her own distraction to counteract the director's and prevent what was coming. She didn't want to think about every step that was bringing her closer to him and wherever he would take her.
She crumbled inside when she thought of it, the crushing reality that it was actually happening.
No. She couldn't do this. She couldn't, she couldn't, she couldn't. The aforementioned thoughts of her parents, doing nothing to quell the rising hysteria.
Becky, Anya thought.
She couldn't let her die.
She couldn't do this.
But Becky.
'Get ready.' Kai's voice popped in her head. Loud and forceful to assure it grabbed her attention and she jolted.
She'd been inattentive to where she was, or where she was going, and saw they were nearing an intersection. Tall greenery rose up high above their heads.
'When I say so, you're going to go left at that intersection.' Kai thought at her. 'Make sure that girl and the man don't notice.'
The latter to which he referred to was the Wald's homeroom teacher who had brought up the rear of the group. One teacher to head the front, one to watch the kids from behind.
Kai must have eyes on her. Either his own or someone else's.
Up ahead, Professor Henderson and Mr. Gable walked by the walkway that intersected perpendicularly, and continued on straight.
Anya held Becky's hand tighter.
'Just a moment now.' The director warned her, the words spoken straight into her heart to make it pound harder.
Anya didn't know what to expect and with each second that passed, she anticipated something terrible. It would be just like the director to do something horrific and call it a "distraction". All these kids, the teachers, they had no idea what was going on and she worried what Kai was planning.
The thudding of feet on wood was cloppy and hollow as Anya went through the intersection and it only built her dread. It felt as if she were being escorted to the gallows.
She hadn't gone far beyond the junction when—
Crack!
Anya was already jittery and she jumped at the splintering collapse of planks up ahead and a shout of alarm. A few kids screamed and Anya thought the worst. She couldn't see Professor Henderson at the front anymore, but the walkway was wide and she stepped to the side as many others did.
The walkway which was supported about a foot off the ground, had given way and the the professor had fallen along with a few children. It wasn't nearly as bad as she expected and the class rushed forward to crowd as close as they dared.
The Wald Hall's homeroom teacher immediately rushed past and Becky followed. She was unaware that Anya didn't also.
'Now.' Kai instructed and Anya spiked with intense pressure at his words to go, an overwhelming want to ignore him. No breath in her lungs as she stood motionless, an indecision that tore her apart, though she knew she couldn't stay. It was actually happening and she didn't want to go, she didn't want to go back to that life. She didn't want to leave the class that remained oblivious to what caused this scene.
'Now!' Kai repeated and she jumped. He was warning her. If she hesitated any longer, he'd retaliate. The assertive urgency in his voice eradicated any notion she had a choice in the matter, and with one last look at Becky, turned away.
And left.
It was a short walk back to the intersection and in a moment, she was out of sight from her classmates.
She began to cry.
'Move quickly. Take the next left turn that you see.'
The walkway shifted to a long dirt path soon enough and Anya hurried down it. It ran by an animal pen, though she was barely conscious of it. There were no other people here.
She rounded the corner and he spoke again soon after.
'Go straight after the turn. Take the second path on the right.'
He had mapped out the zoo, she suspected. It sounded like he didn't have spies on her anymore, and wished she could take advantage of it. She knew she would regret it if she did.
There were a few more turns and she must've been walking for at least ten minutes. She made one more turn and stopped ten steps in.
'Agent Fisher should be there at the next right.' Kai said belatedly.
Anya knew. She could see her. On the side of the path, Fisher sat on a bench that faced the opposite animal enclosure.
Anya hadn't sensed her at all.
The new devices.
Fisher stood.
'She'll give you your further instructions.'
And he was gone.
"Subject 007." Fisher said in greeting. She wore civilian clothes to blend in, her face as stoic as ever. Anya had seen her in apparel other than her combat gear before, and yet it was still always strange. They never fit her personality or her ability to switch gears on a moment's notice.
Anya didn't respond. She never had and she never would. She was sure if she tried, her voice wouldn't come through anyway, it'd be more of a whisper for lack of air. She tried not to cry out loud, but a sob slipped through.
Everything was becoming too real. Each time the director thought at her, each person she saw from the lab was like a bucket of freezing water over her head. She had become accustomed to living with her parents, the idea she would stay there forever, that she'd never deal with these people again.
But here Agent Fisher was.
"Let's go." She prompted her to come closer from where she stood some metres away.
This was it. As soon as she walked over there, she'd be stuck with them until her parents came. The finality of it was suffocating and she was grounded where she stood. She couldn't run like she wanted nor move forward. She didn't want to get any closer. She didn't want to, she didn't want to, she didn't want to. She couldn't. She had to.
Anya breathed heavier. A little quicker.
How long would it take for her parents to come? To find her? What would happen until they did?
She couldn't do this, she couldn't do this.
She had to.
"Lets. Go." Fisher said warningly.
The consequences were too steep if she didn't and she dragged her leg forward reluctantly. They were as stone, grating against the ground, heavy and unwieldy.
No. She couldn't do this, she couldn't do this. She needed out of this. How did did she get out of this? What did she do, what did she do? Surely there was something. There had to be. This couldn't be happening, she couldn't do this.
As if on cue, Fisher's head snapped up and locked on something past Anya. She spun around when she realized someone was behind her.
A pit twisted and sank in her stomach.
No. Nonono.
What was he doing here?! He was going to get himself killed!
Anya stared wide-eyed at him, and the boy who had looked about to speak, paused at the sight of her face.
Damian had followed her.
—
There was shouting somewhere ahead of him and loud cracks as the walkway broke and buckled. Professor Henderson's head disappeared and as far as Damian could tell, some of the kids fell too.
It wasn't a big fall. It could only be about a foot, but it scared the crap out of the students who screamed bloody murder.
The students fell out of line then. The walkway was quite wide, so they got as close as they dared to the jagged edges before the teacher from Wald hall made them scoot back.
Damian wasn't so close to the front but he got a good enough look.
Mr. Gable had managed to avoid the collapse and now helped the few kids that had fallen. None of them appeared seriously hurt, a couple nicks, but they were fine. It was a small drop and Professor Henderson required no help.
Damian would never admit he was rattled when the students screamed, but his heart had jumped out of his chest and he had tensed up. When there was no more screaming, he curiously craned his neck at the incident, and nothing seemed amiss other than faulty boards.
To Damian's right, he saw Blackbell advancing further for a better view and was surprised that Forger wasn't by her side like usual. He had talked to her little on the field trip, less than he would have liked, and was pleased he had least affirmed she had some sort of sixth sense however unsettling it was. He would get to the bottom of it eventually.
As if it was second nature, a habit he had not noticed in himself, he cast about his gaze for Forger and she was gone. She was not with the other students, he would've spotted her hair.
'What in the—?' He thought. 'Where could she have gone?'
He didn't think twice when he disengaged from the group that clamoured around the hole that they somehow found fascinating, and walked back the way they came from.
He wasn't worried about her, he was just curious. She was being suspicious again. Why would she leave like this? Forger would for sure get a bolt, she already had two, she wouldn't last 'til middle school at this rate.
He was curious of her mental soundness to make such a choice, he wasn't worried.
He reached the intersection and casually looked both ways and saw her halfway down a long path to his right. She walked as fast as her stubby legs could carry her.
'Where the heck is she going?!' He thought incredulously. 'Has she gone insane?!'
He glanced at the teachers who were attending to the students who fell, and talking to Mr. Gable about the incident.
They were busy.
"Aw, geez." He grumbled unhappily and started into a sprint to catch up with her. 'What am I doing?' He complained to himself. 'Who cares if she gets in trouble? I'm just gonna get myself in trouble. Then I'll get a bolt and Father will be mad.' He thought, but didn't stop.
He was moving much faster than Forger and caught up easily. She couldn't have been more than a couple metres away when she turned abruptly down another path, and he slipped from taking it too fast. The dirt and tiny pebbles ground beneath his shoes in his effort to stop, and his knee met the sun-warmed earth when he failed, hands planting on the path before he fell on his face. He only grunted at the blunt pain that ached it.
She didn't notice. He hadn't exactly been quiet.
Damian tenderly brushed away the soil stuck on his bruised knee, and the tiny, speckled impressions it left from his body's weight, as he righted himself and wondered at her obliviousness. He swiped any stain from his hands. Was she ignoring him? He didn't like being ignored, he rarely was ignored. No, she just didn't notice. How had she not noticed? She didn't turn to signify acknowledgment of his sacrificed knee, neither did she appear attuned to his appearance like she so often was.
He was about to call out for her and finally gain the attention he usually had, when he spied her shoulders and the way they shook. The way her hands fisted at her sides and refrained from swinging freely.
Well, that didn't seem right.
He didn't know why it stopped him. He didn't know why he let her walk further ahead before following at a distance. Maybe it was because he sensed something was wrong. Maybe he was curious as to where she was going when it would so obviously get her in trouble. Maybe he just wanted to know what she was thinking. What she was doing. Maybe it was all of the above.
Maybe it reminded him of how she acted before she was abducted, but of course that was ridiculous. . . .
They made a few turns and Damian noticed they were keeping to the more concealed paths. Ones with more trees that shadowed over them, and Forger walked like she knew where she was going. He wondered if she'd been here before.
As Forger disappeared around a right corner, Damian jogged up to close the distance and jerked back into hiding at the person ahead. She didn't appear to notice him, looking at the animals as she was. It would just be really awkward if he was caught. . .
. . .
. . .
. . .
Caught. . .that implied he was doing something wrong, which he wasn't. He was only trying to uncover who Forger really was. He was convinced she wasn't a regular commoner despite knowing who her parents were.
Cautiously, he peeked around the corner and the lady had stood. She held herself straight and tall, a bearing similar to military personnel, and her emotionless eyes met Forger's. They seemed to know each other and from Forger's reticence to go near her, it was not a good relationship.
Damian had a bad feeling.
The woman held no expression when she spoke to her.
"Subject 007." She said and Desmond had no idea what that was supposed to mean. Why was she talking to Forger? Why did it make her nervous? Why did this lady come here to see her? They were on a field trip for crying out loud, couldn't this wait?
But Forger didn't say anything and he could have sworn he heard her sob once. She was still shaking.
Damian had a really bad feeling about this and the longer the silence went on, realized how taut it was. The leaves that fluttered almost silently, amplified it, and the occasional clittering of crisp greenery that was soft but clear, were like undertones to something serious taking place.
"Let's go." The lady said and eyed Forger expectantly. She spoke with authority and the words were followed by the same hush.
'Let's go!?' Damian thought. Was Forger seriously going to leave with this lady? Where? Why? What the heck was going on?
But Forger remained unmoving and a chill came over Damian.
This whole situation was wrong. It reeked of something vile. Everything about Forger's body language screamed fear and anxiety, and yet here she stood of her own accord. He didn't know how she knew this lady would be here, but she came. And this woman was going to take her away.
It occurred to him, that Damian was witnessing a secret part of Forger's life. A piece of her puzzle that he'd been trying to put together. He wanted to know her association with this lady. He wanted to know why it seemed Forger had another life that her parents apparently didn't know about, (hence this secret meeting) and what kind of life it was. What those secrets were.
He wanted to know who this woman was and why in the world Forger would cooperate with her when she clearly didn't want to be here.
Blackmail was his first thought, a tactic he was well aware was used in politics, and slowly it dawned on him. Icy claws gripping him in cold, terrifying realization.
This woman wanted to take Forger away and she didn't want to go.
Was this lady involved with Forger's previous abduction? Or was this something else? She seemed to know who she was, she acted like one who held authority over her.
Damian's breath caught at all the implications this presented and his head swam frantically at the fear that was planted deep in his stomach.
"Let's. Go." The words were emphasized with warning and Damian's heart sped. He couldn't be sure she was a kidnapper, but there was no doubt in his mind that she was a risk to Forger.
With excruciatingly hesitant movements, Forger took a step forward as if caused by threat. She dragged her feet like a misbehaved child, knowing what punishment awaited her.
She was going! Forger was going! What did he do, what did he do, what did he do?! Was he overreacting?! This was so suspicious! He couldn't go get help, Forger would be gone by then!
She took another step.
Damian couldn't let this happen, what did he do? How did he—
And suddenly he was no longer hidden. He stood in the open where he could be seen. Where the woman could snap her eyes up and fix him with a glare to freeze his blood solid. He was going to call for Forger, but now he felt stiff and slow and turned to look at her belatedly. He didn't have chance to get a word out before she rounded on him and he jerked back a step at the sight of her face.
He had made a mistake.
She stared at him in horror, tears streaming freely, and he knew he'd made a very big mistake, as if he'd signed his own death warrant.
It was quiet and the moment descended on him as a cloud of foreboding, chilling his bones and soaking him in goosebumps. In a split second the air had turned from tense, to a hairsbreadth away from immediate danger. He felt it in his gut and an internal alarm sounded off in his head. Somehow he still had a pulse but it beat slowly and uncertainly. Apprehensively. Like it was deciding wether he should be scared or not.
Forger didn't speak and neither did he. She made no other movement and he didn't think he was able to.
"What. . .What are you doing here?" Forger said in a horrified whisper and Damian had never felt so alien in someone else's life. She had never felt so alien to him. Sure, he was convinced she kept back the truth of her identity, of her life, but it was another thing to be confronted with it. And now he'd involved himself in it, and Forger certainly hadn't wanted him to.
He couldn't answer at first. He'd acted on urgent impulse. The moment dripped like molasses, slow and heavy. Overpowering. He thought he might choke on it. He glanced uneasily at the lady who caused it as she hid behind her seemingly indifferent attitude. He began to sweat. The heat felt hotter and the humidity pressed down on him.
"You. . . left the class. . . you're going to get in trouble. . ." He said and he could see it in Forger's eyes. She knew he had some inkling of what was taking place, and somehow that idea terrified her even more.
The lady cut in and the sudden entry of her voice shot his adrenaline into over gear. "I'm her aunt. There's a family emergency." An obvious lie. "Let's go." She said in hopes to end this conversation quickly.
"You have to speak to the teachers about that." Damian said, surprising himself how he spoke confidently and without hesitation, a hint of arrogance. He sweat under her unblinking scrutiny and pretended it didn't bother him. "You can't just leave with a student, there's laws about that." He conveyed with firm superiority and thought that was rather smart even if his voice didn't match how he felt. It seemed to set Forger even more on edge and she glanced furtively between them as if he had made a wrong move.
Oh crud, did he?! A rock grew in his stomach. What else was he supposed to say?!
"I called the school, they know." The woman answered and Damian grew ever more tense. How did he get her to leave without Forger? This wasn't working.
Just stall! Stall until someone gets here!
"But still, the teachers should know you're here to pick her up." He said and the lady's jaw set. She turned to Forger and gave her a warning look that signified this was her responsibility.
Forger's hands anxiously clenched and unclenched at her uniform and she struggled to get the words out.
"You. . . .you should go." She said quietly and Damian didn't know if he could get any colder as understanding hit him like a brick. It was in her eyes. She was imploring him to run. She was afraid for him. He was in dangerous waters, over his head, and she was tossing him a life preserver before he was dragged under.
She was trying to save his life.
Forger wasn't worried he'd be kidnapped too, she was worried he would die.
Damian couldn't breathe at this realization. It was speculation, only derived from what he thought he was picking up on, but it drilled the fear deep, deep into his soul. Not just because of the possibility of death, but because he had the chance to leave, and he'd be abandoning Forger if he did.
He considered it. He could go get help. Would she be gone by then?
But abandoning her. . .Who knew how long she'd be gone? What would happen to her? Would she be okay? He wanted to believe he was reading way too much into the situation and just couldn't.
Her warning had evaporated his fake confidence, which he usually carried authentically and so easily, and his next words had lost strength. "No. . .I—I think. . . I think you need to talk to the teachers." He insisted, desperately hoping he wasn't making the wrong decision. That ignoring the pounding in his skull was the right call. Maybe he'd be fine. Maybe he'd imagined what he saw in Forger's eyes.
She took a shuddering breath and looked at him as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.
Silence followed and the wind decided to blow in at that moment and the shaking leaves and branches covered it over.
The woman didn't react at first and her face kept in perfect stillness until she studied him almost regretfully, the slightest hint of humanity peeking through her stoic features. It was gone before it could completely form, and she sighed greatly.
The woman didn't like his answer.
She pulled out a gun.
The next moment was a blur and the waves rammed into Damian, dragging him under, as Forger predicted.
He jolted as he gasped at the barrel pointed at him, and staggered back. He heard Forger scream at the same time, and she ran in front of him. She was sobbing.
It was muffled, like he was actually drowning in the ocean and the watery barrier could not be pierced.
He could do nothing. His knees were locked in place, the only thing keeping him upright. Fear paralyzed his muscles and drained his face.
He scarcely heard the woman speak to Forger and she screamed again. There was not much he was aware of other than the pistol that had lowered at Forger's interference.
The woman simply had to take a step forward for Damian's veins to become like ice.
She marched at them.
The lady ignored Forger's protests as she pulled her out of the way and the gun rose once more betwixt Damian's eyes.
He was going to die.
Forger screamed at her to stop but she easily kept the girl at bay.
He was going to die.
He was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to die.
Between the gun being raised, and the the safety being disabled, Damian had an ill-placed thought of anger that this was how'd he go. This was how'd he die and it was unacceptable. He was a Desmond. This was not how a Desmond died.
It seemed ridiculous to him that it crossed his mind in this fraction of a second before death.
Dead. Gone. He'd be gone.
He thought of his family. He wondered if they'd avenge him. He wondered morbidly if his father would care.
Click.
The safety was off.
He wasn't ready. He was scared. He was confused. How was this happening? He was just trying to keep Forger out of trouble and now there was a gun pointed at his face.
A gun.
He'd be killed by a gun. He was a Desmond and he'd be killed by a gun, how disgraceful. A Desmond, and yet he'd allowed himself to get sucked into this situation. He was a freakin Desmond and he was going to die.
He was a Desmond, he was a Desmond, he was a Desmond.
How come it couldn't protect him when he needed it to the most?
And it occurred to him.
"Desmond, I'm Damian Desmond." It rushed out in barely a whisper but her trigger finger stilled the instant it nearly fired the projectile.
"M—my—my father will have your h-head." He stammered, the pitch black interior of the barrel rendering him tongue-tied. He couldn't stop looking at it, the object that would cause his death.
The woman said nothing and the rustling leaves and the gentle breezes were smothered by the enormity of silence that took over.
She considered him in cold calculation. She gave no indication what she was thinking or feeling.
Damian only saw the gun, only heard the blood thundering in his ears, the nerves that violently shook his hands, and though he fisted them, they didn't stop.
After staring him down for a terrifying eternity of a second, she used a free hand and reached behind her once more, the gun steady on him.
The walkie-talkie she produced was held to her mouth and she pressed a button.
"Sir, we have a problem." She spoke into it, eyes stayed on Damian. Her finger lifted from the black button and it was quiet. Then crackling static as someone on the other end prepared to speak.
His voice was unfamiliar. "What is it?" He said and it clicked out.
"A boy found us. He's a Desmond, what do you want me to do with him?" The lady responded.
Contemplative silence.
The crackling returned. "Take him with you." He said and Damian's subsequent dread was mixed with relief that he wouldn't be killed.
"If he's trouble, dispose of him. I'll think of something if it comes to it." He finished and they heard from him no more.
"Yes, sir." The lady spoke unemotionally into the portable radio and it was put back.
She didn't retract the gun right away.
"Misbehave and there will be consequences." She said and Damian could only nod, however slight it was. His heart beat fast and his hands shook from his narrowly escaped death.
The gun was put away and salty water sprung from Damian's eyes as he sucked in a long gasping breath. Another one and another.
His name had saved his life, and he couldn't begin to guess why it had any influence over them. It was said in desperation. A last bid to save his skin. It chilled him to think why it worked. Sure, most people would be swayed, but these weren't most people. For now though, as long as he stayed in line, he was alive.
Absorbed with the threat on his life, and the woman who had caused it, Damian had lost all senses concerning Forger. He looked at her as the woman did, to see her crouched on the ground clutching at her head. A habit he'd noticed after the previous kidnapping.
She was between hyperventilating and crying, a panic attack induced by the woman's actions and she hadn't noticed Damian wasn't dead yet.
It struck him that this was a familiar situation to her. That she knew what was going on. Forger was tangled in something far more dangerous than he thought, and he'd been seeking answers. He didn't want to know them anymore. Not at the cost of this. He would've gladly given up if it meant they could leave here and be safe.
"Come. We have to leave." The lady said to Forger. She wasn't pointing a gun at her head, she wasn't threatening her any way that he could see, and the woman expected Forger to listen. It scared Damian that they had means to coerce cooperation. That even if they had a chance to run, she wouldn't.
Both physical and unseen threats were equally terrible, but there was a certain evilness that came with blackmail. If that truly was what was happening here, he didn't know how they were going to get out of this and he certainly couldn't desert her to flee on his own.
Damian was at a loss as what to do.
"Now." The woman pressed and glanced back down the path. She was worried they'd be seen. They were sitting ducks just waiting for the rare passerby to come upon them. A child sobbing on the ground, and another caught by the wrist was too attention grabbing. It invited too much suspicion. Not to mention Forger's screams that would lure people who were close enough to hear it.
But Forger was unresponsive, too locked in her head.
"Hey. He's fine. You can get up now." She said and leaned down to nudge her shoulder. It nettled Damian that she said it with such cavalier.
The touch startled Forger and she bolted up and away from her with a gasp. She wrung at her hands as she breathed heavily and her gaze landed on Desmond.
She was stunned he wasn't dead. She expected it to happen.
Damian shuddered yet again. This life Forger had scared him more by the second.
"Good. Let's go." The woman said.
Forger didn't respond fast enough and the lady grabbed her wrist as well.
And they were leaving.
Where? Where were they going? Damian thought as she dragged them along at a brisk pace. He had settled in a state of stable panic. A constant rhythm of a pounding heart and beating feet against the well traveled path. The speed she marched them at made his nerves jump and the urgency sped them quickly along.
The path went on for a couple minutes and they turned a corner. Damian was too absorbed in his franticness to notice the subtle crunching of small pebbles and dirt, and apparently the woman hadn't noticed either, because she stopped abruptly at the man they came face to face with.
His green shirt was the first thing Damian saw.
"Oh! Children! Thank goodness! Your teachers are so worried." Mr. Gable said and Damian didn't know to be afraid for him, or happy that he was here.
Forger's horror was the second thing he saw. He could guess why.
"Why are you crying?" Mr. Gable asked them worriedly. "Are you okay? You're not hurt are you? I'm sorry, who are you?" He directed to the woman who had changed her disposition like a chameleon to that of someone friendly, and shifted her grip to the kids hands. Less suspicious.
"Do you know why they're crying?" He asked and Damian was confronted with the fact that his own eyes were still leaking.
"Oh, no. I assume because they got lost. I found these two wandering around and recognized the uniforms from the group I saw earlier. I was trying to locate them and return them to their field trip."
"How good of you." He answered. "I can escort them from here, I know exactly where they are. Their teachers will be so relieved, I was just about to report their absence."
"Sure." She said. "Of course." She didn't let go of their hands.
The man tipped his head in confusion at her conflicting words. "What di—"
With speed Damian couldn't follow, Mr. Gable was interrupted by the gun suddenly in the lady's hands. The mask of cordiality, dropped, as she released Forger.
Damian didn't know how many times he had been frightened already and he flinched at the motion of the weapon being whisked out.
He feared for Mr. Gable but to all of their shock, he acted accordingly. He moved not in the way a regular zoo worker would, but agilely and without a moments hesitation.
Damian had rarely seen bodyguards in action but he'd seen them move and the skills they possessed. This man was much quicker, more adept. If Damian had had the composure to question it, he would've been confused, but as it was, he was absorbed in the following moments.
Mr. Gable moved before the woman had the safety off, which was a feat in and of itself. She acted in breath-taking speed but her opponent was just as swift, if not more so. She only wielded the gun for half a second before Mr. Gable directed it towards the sky, a bullet shooting off surprisingly quiet as he did so. He couldn't wrest it from her hands however, and she easily manoeuvred it and herself away from him, gun on the man again. Still a hold on Damian.
"Watch him." The woman thrust him in Forger's general direction a second before she was once more engaged with Mr. Gable.
Damian and Forger edged back as the two grown-ups fought in a whirlwind of violent dancing. Their feet sent dry dirt flying as they twisted and jumped. Their limbs evaded and attacked in effortless proficiency and rarely collided in brutal contact for their mastery of martial arts. Suddenly Mr. Gable had a gun in his hands and Damian didn't know where it came from. Between the physical assaults, it went off, also suppressed, and the woman dodged with practiced ease. She wasn't able to get her own shot in, and it was difficult for Mr. Gable to find another opening. The woman was hard-pressed to keep up, and relied on her dodging as she reached for the walkie-talkie.
"Code two-sixteen!" She shouted, narrowly avoiding a kick to her vital organs and the device was dropped the instant the words left her mouth. It tumbled to the ground and the woman braced her forearms against the leg that would've knocked her unconscious.
Mr. Gable attacked ever more fiercely after that, and the woman picked up her game to match him. They fought for a few minutes more, the green clad man landing a couple hits. His resolve was stronger than his opponent's, and he only seemed to get faster. He was gaining the upper hand and was poised to end the fight then and there. He had set her off balance and prepared to strike, when he randomly displayed his incredible athletics and flipped away backwards. No sooner had he jumped away when the dirt where he had just stood, sprayed forcefully with a zinging thud.
Lightning quick, Mr. Gable dodged again and the bark of a tree splintered at the stray bullet.
There was a sniper in the trees.
The sounds were suppressed like the pistols, and Damian jerked back at the puffs of dust abruptly sprouting though they were nowhere near him.
Mr. Gable moved gracefully, and easily to avoid them, but they increased more and more and he had to find cover. There was more than one sniper by the frequency of shots, and the multiple angles they originated from.
The woman seized this chance to retrieve her walkie-talkie and the children. She acted with such speed, her fingers scraped the dry earth as she snatched up her fallen tool, and the film of grit on the object, transferred to her hands, making them chalky as she reached for the children's wrists once more.
Damian was too stupefied by current circumstances to resist, though he wouldn't have been able to anyway. Forger was crying after Mr. Gable as they were dragged down the path once more, and it carried familiarity he didn't understand.
He couldn't discern the state of Mr. Gable's position as they left, if he was alright, if he had shot down any of the snipers, and they moved so quickly, the trio quickly left sight of the bullet torn path.
The woman soon veered them suddenly off into the woods that encompassed the outside enormity of the zoo. It was thick and shadowed darkly under the tightly knit branches and abundance of leaves. So thick was it, the tops were hidden from view.
Regardless, she urged them onward in unrecommended speed over the uneven terrain, past the brush that whipped back into place at their passing, and ducked beneath bits of trees that were easier to accommodate to than manoeuvre them out of the way.
Without breaking stride, the woman released Forger for the briefest moment to speak into her portable radio and then she was in hand again.
With each second, the magnitude of the situation grew heavier and heavier on Damian. The rush he was moving at, seeming to aid the panic and urgency, and his blood raced with it.
When Mr. Gable had showed up, Damian was initially worried for him, and when he fought back, his hopes had soared preemptively. They ran now, and it had disintegrated to ash. They ran and the situation felt worse than before.
Up ahead in the scantly spaced trees, light trickled through in dreadful anticipation. Despite following no path, and the ease one could get lost in the woods, the woman had led them out and Damian hated her for it.
Daylight affronted Desmond as they broke from the tree line and came upon an all but empty highway. They didn't wait long before a dark grey car appeared down the road. It slowed to a stop and the driver's door opened.
Never before had Damian questioned the validity of Forger's identity so much as when this man exited the car.
His pink hair matched her's, and they shared facial features that couldn't be a coincidence. Perhaps he was an uncle, some second, third, cousin, though it seemed too distant for the alikeness they held.
Damian felt he knew less and less about Forger.
He suspected this was who the woman worked for, who wanted Forger back so badly. He was tall and could have been nice-looking if not for the seemingly engraved vexed expression that hardened his face.
He carried himself aggressively and powerfully, similar to arrogant politicians he'd seen on occasion. And however corrupt some he knew to be, this man was more ruthless. It didn't take a detective to feel it exuding from him.
Damian shuddered. He wanted no involvement with this person that came around the trunk of the car in long, angry strides. Even his gait was off-setting.
He yanked open the back door.
"In." He spoke gruffly and glared at Forger and Damian was acutely aware of how she shied from him and gripped to the woman's pants in spite of what had just occurred.
She spoke no words and Damian knew this man was worse. He grew ever more anxious at what that implied.
The man narrowed his eyes at Forger's hesitation. "Now." He said dangerously low and Damian wanted to stop Forger as she gave him a wide girth to the car.
The woman followed after, which meant Damian did as well, and a car had never seemed so intimidating.
The woman had him step inside after Forger.
Damian's heart thudded loudly as the door slammed shut in deafening finality.