Phck...Gavin wasn't sure if his food had been drugged or if he'd been knocked out again, but he felt too groggy to have fallen asleep naturally. He was also pretty sure the noise would have woken him up. There was a heavy slapping sound, like hands slamming on a distant window. His brow pinched as he roused himself, barely making out the sound of a voice screaming his name. A young voice. A girl. Sandy? It was definitely someone he knew. His protective instincts kicked in, forcing him to open his eyes with a wince and push himself up. Sitting up so far made his head spin and a heavy fog still lingered as he looked around.
He was on a camping cot. No pillow or blanket, so clearly not somewhere he was supposed to stay long term. As he sat up, he noticed a sheer glass wall. Is it glass, or some kind of plexiglass? It didn't matter either way. He wouldn't be able to break it without a weapon. Straight ahead was an open space with various items scattered across the floor. A long wooden bat, a sledgehammer, a smaller claw hammer, a hunting knife, a machete, and what looked like a cattle prod. What is this Battle Royale bullshit? He was so busy puzzling over the scattered items, he didn't notice the small figure in an identical glass cell to his right.
"Kitty?" He hadn't seen her since her father's funeral when she was eight years old, which mean she had to be around twelve. She was taller, of course, more mature and filled out. Her skin was flushed, eyes puffy where she'd clearly been crying. Her hair was long and straight, a little darker than Jack's and kept loose about her shoulders. She was wearing black leggings and a short tartan skirt with a tight black top with Daddy's Girl printed across the front in swirling silver text. By the dark smudges around her eyes, he guessed she was wearing makeup too. She was just hitting maturity, likely going through that early rebellious phase. He certainly didn't think Sandy would have let her go out looking like that. "Kitty!"
"Uncle Gavin! Uncle Gavin!" Shit, he hated not being close to her. It was hard to comfort her from a distance, to see her slapping at the glass wall and hear her wailing for him. His own heart raced as he assessed the situation. There was no way in hell the Hickory Killer would think he'd kill his own Goddaughter, so there had to be a catch. He swallowed hard as he looked across to the other side of the room. There was another cell sitting opposite Kitty's. He didn't know the occupant of that cell, but from the snarl on his lips and the way he kept eyeing them, he knew he was bad news. Kitty's frantic blue eyes darted back and forth between them, fearful and desperate.
"Just stay calm, alright? I'm right here! You're going to be fine!" He'd make sure of it. His plan was obvious. The Hickory Killer was going to set them loose and whoever won got the girl or got to live. The man in the other cell had the advantage in size. He was huge! About a foot taller, and half as wide. He was dressed in a white T-shirt that barely contained his chest and gut, with an open plaid shirt over the top. Even his jeans looked tight, stretching over his muscular thighs and calves like they didn't make them big enough. Maybe they didn't. The only thing that seemed to fit were his dusty brown boots. Gavin didn't know what his day job was, and he didn't want to know.
He could have been a professional wrestler with all the muscle he had, which meant he'd have to be quick. His smaller size would give him the speed and dexterity advantage, but if that guy got his hands on him, it would be game over. That meant heavy weaponry was out. Something like the sledgehammer would only slow him down. On a normal day on the job, he'd aim to incapacitate and hope someone came along to find him, but with an innocent life on the line, and no hope of rescue, he couldn't afford to be merciful. Not with Kitty.
"Gavin, so nice of you to join us. Kitty and Malcolm have just been getting acquainted." From the terrified sob that fled her lips, Gavin assumed Kitty was less than pleased to meet him. Her cheeks were still wet with tears as she wailed and slapped the glass, which only seemed to amuse Malcolm more as he folded his arms and laughed at her. Gavin swallowed hard. The Hickory Killer wouldn't bring just anyone to face off against him. It had to be someone ruthless who wouldn't hesitate to kill Kitty once they finished with him. "I told you we'd start off simple, so here are the rules. Only two of you will leave this room alive. You may use any weapons you chose and take any side you choose." Gavin knew what that meant. If they wanted to, they could kill the weakest member and get out without a proper fight, but no way was he pulling that shit. Looking at Malcolm, he didn't think he was up for that either. "You may start once the doors open." Shit!
There was a loud buzzing sound as the locks slid back. Gavin barged through his door so hard it bounced off the wall. He had to get a weapon first and figure out how to play this. Malcolm was slower and seemed in no real hurry as he stepped out. Kitty remained in her glass box, cowering against the back wall. Closed in like that, she was an easy target, but it was also a lot safer than being outside in the way. Grabbing the cattle prod, Gavin hurtled across to her box and tossed it inside, pushing the door to behind him.
"Stay in there and keep that thing turned on!" If he got himself killed, he wanted to give her a fighting chance, at least. Kitty's lips trembled as she picked up the rod and stared at it like a foreign object. She'd never used one, but he was pretty sure she'd figure out how to turn it on. He tried to block out her quiet whimpering as he skittered across the floor and grabbed the hunting knife. It wasn't ideal, but it was the closest weapon. It didn't surprise him that Malcolm grabbed the sledgehammer. Rookie mistake. Sure, it looked cool, but it also meant he'd be a lot slower.
Gavin's heart thudded as he watched the towering figure rushing towards him. Adrenaline sent him hurtling out of the way, rolling across the cement as the hammer shattered the cement behind him. Malcolm certainly knew how to handle the hammer. He swung it like a weightlifter at a carnival, pummelling the ground and leaving giant holes behind. Each smash made Gavin tremble, reminding him what would happen if he wasn't fast enough. Malcolm charged like a juggernaut, roaring and swinging. Gavin felt the air swish above his head as the hammer passed by, hitting the wall of Kitty's cell. It left her shrieking and cowering, still trying to turn on the rod. Malcolm paused as if to consider whether it was worth dealing with her first, to silence the noise if nothing else.
"Hey! Don't you phcking touch her!" Gavin yelled as Malcolm tossed her door open. Kitty screamed, leaping her on cot and holding out the rod. She somehow managed to press the switch on the side and jabbed it like a spear. Malcolm laughed loudly, like a raiding Viking. He certainly had the right look for it with his long tail of unruly hair, and equally long facial hair. It was the hair Gavin went for. Since he had his back to him, he leaped and put his full weight into pulling that tail. It had the desired effect.
"You're going to regret that, boy!" Boy? From the lines on his face, Gavin could tell he was older, but not by that much. Malcolm didn't sound like he was from around Detroit, more like he'd stepped out of an old Western. Where the Hickory Killer was getting his victims from wasn't something he had time to think about at that particular moment. Realising the hammer was slowing him down, Malcolm did the only sensible thing. He threw it at Gavin and charged as he dodged. It felt like he got hit by the hammer anyway as Malcolm's body slammed into his torso. He hit the wall so hard he thought he was going to pass out. He could hear Malcolm laughing as he hit the floor, doing his best to suck in a breath.
Malcolm didn't bother with a weapon this time. He grabbed his hair and hauled him up, letting out a gruff chuckle as he punched him in the gut. Gavin gagged, choking vomit on the floor. Malcolm clicked his tongue and tossed him across the room as some of it splattered his shoes. Everything fucking hurt! Gavin curled up and held his stomach, painfully aware of what would happen if he died here. The hunting knife had been lost in the scuffle, but there was a weapon within reach. He wasn't sure it would work, but it was about all he could manage as he curled over and gripped the handle.
"I'm going to make it slow for you, boy! Then I'm going to get her. I'm going to spread her open and get her real good while you watch with your cold dead-" Gavin wasn't sure how that sentence was supposed to end, and it brought him peace to know he'd never find out. As Malcolm leaned down to grab his jacket, Gavin turned with a roar, thrusting up with the machete and driving it straight through his thick neck. Malcolm's beady eyes were wide in surprise as he staggered back, gurgling and choking, gripping the open wound as the blade slipped free. Gavin kept hold of the handle, gripping it tight as he rolled to his knees. He was taking no chances.
Pushing to his feet, Gavin charged. He roared like a man possessed as he swung the blade, cutting Malcolm's head clean off. The body stayed on its knees, head hitting the floor with a sickening thud. It was so much worse than in the movies. There was a dull, wet sound, and blood spurted out in gushing rivers. It caught the side of Gavin's face, making him stumble away, wiping with his sleeve to get some of it off. He couldn't stop shaking as he finally stopped. The blade slipped from his fingers, leaving him staring at the body of the man he'd killed. I-it's not my...I-I didn't have a choice! I-didn't-have-a-choice!
"Uncle Gavin!" He turned and fell to his knees as Kitty rushed him, cattle prod slipping from her hand as she threw herself against his chest. They both sobbed and wailed, holding each other and rocking back and forth until Gavin pushed back to look at her. He could barely see through the tears, but as he blinked them clear, he was pretty sure she was alright. She was terrified and exhausted, but still alive, and without a notable mark on her.
"Thank phck! Oh-thank-phck!" Gavin tucked her against his dry shoulder, fisting a hand in her hair and panting against her neck. She was alright. She was alive. He hadn't let Jack down. His daughter was still safe. Her arms held him tightly, careless of the blood on his clothes as she hid her face in his jacket and tried to pretend none of it was happening. More curses of relief fell from his lips, but it was a short-lived relief. That she was here at all meant they were screwed. There was no way the Hickory Killer was going to let her walk after this. She was too valuable. If there was one thing he knew Gavin would fight and kill for, it was his partner's daughter. His goddaughter. "Phck, I'm sorry..." She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him.
"I want to go home!" Gavin felt even worse as she sobbed against his chest. She was probably only like this right now because the fear was so fresh. When she calmed down enough to figure out what was going on, she'd probably be furious. Not only was he the one who got her dad killed, but now she'd been dragged in to relive it and have her own life endangered. What about Sandy? Her mum? Was she okay? Did they snatch Kitty alone, or did they have her locked up here? Had they killed her? A chill ran through him at the thought.
"How did they get you? Do you remember that?" Gavin asked softly as he drew back and wiped her eyes, still sniffling a little himself. Her lips trembled as she shook her head. The smudges around her eyes had cleared a little, a clear sign she'd now rubbed off most of the mascara lining her eyes. Her lips were a little darker than he remembered, but he wasn't sure if it was lipstick. It was hard to tell with makeup these days. It wasn't like the early two thousands when it would smear at the drop of a hat.
"I-w-I was at the movies with my friends. It was a Saturday, so mum said I could go to the late screening so long as I called her when we got out." So, she wasn't with Sandy. That was something. "I don't know what happened to the others. I went to the bathroom after it finished, and when I got out...I don't even remember getting to the door!" That could be trauma, or she could have been knocked out. Gavin hushed her as she sobbed again, rubbing her bare arms against the chill.
"You don't remember anything, or you got knocked out before then?" She didn't seem too sure as she looked at the floor and caught her breath. He could see her thinking back, but nothing seemed to come to mind.
"Alright, but you remember being alone. No one else was with you." She nodded at that. Her friends had already finished and headed to the foyer by the time she came out. They had a normal meeting spot, so they'd probably waited there for a while. "If your friends were waiting, they probably called your mum or the police when you didn't come out." Not that he had much faith that would help. If they hadn't found him, there was little to no chance they'd find Kitty. The Hickory Killer was cautious. He wouldn't have taken her if he didn't think he could get away with it. What he did know was that the Jack android hadn't left his side, so the Hickory Killer himself had gone out to get her. How did he know where to find her? Has he been watching them all this time?
"Uncle Gavin...Are we going to die here?" Gavin's lips thinned at the question. She was still a child, but not so young that he could comfort her with lies. She was almost thirteen. That was old enough to read the signs and understand most of what was going on. The look on his face must have said it all. He cupped her cheeks as she broke down and cried again.
"Hey-hey, look at me. I'm here. I'm right here, and I'm going to keep you safe." He didn't care what it took. He'd jump through any hoops the Hickory Killer held in his way. Another serial killer? Dead. A paedophile? Dead. Drug dealers? No problem. He tried not to think about what would happen if it was someone else. It didn't matter. Kitty was his priority. He'd already killed her dad. The last thing he was going to do was let her die, too. Sandy would never forgive him. Jack would turn in his grave at the thought. Most of all, he'd never forgive himself if anything happened to her.