by K Alexander
"Please… "
The woman releases her wrist to avoid being dragged down and stops, glaring down at her collapsed shape. "Get up."
"I can't. Please… "
The woman puts her hands on her hips and glances left and right, inspecting the area. "What is the closest town?"
"I think its Fairfield." Claire takes strained breaths, her hands pushing against her thighs to keep her torso upright. "I'm not sure."
"How far?"
"I don't know." At the unconvinced gaze that falls on her she drops her head and attempts to at least begin to breathe smoothly. "I'm not from here."
"In which direction?"
"South. I think." Claire glances up at the woman who is studying something in the distance, and tries to edge away marginally, but almost immediately the cold green eyes return to her.
"Don't."
"Please." She repeats the only important word that she can think of. "Please. I'm of no use to you. Let me go."
"No." It is concise and definite. Ryan glances at the dried blood that covers her hand before she extends it and grasps Claire's wrist again, hauling her up bodily. "Enough rest. Let's go."
"I can't!" Claire pulls back just a little. "I'm too tired. I need to get my breath back. Please, let me rest. Or…" she turns pleading eyes on her captor, "just leave me here. When they find me, you'll be long gone. I won't say anything, I promise. I promise." Her blue eyes fill with helpless tears.
"Sounds like you have your breath back." The woman yanks her wrist, hard, and begins to walk, dragging her along pitilessly. At first Claire considers resisting - she is very afraid, but has calmed her panic to a manageable level - but she does not know what the woman will do to her, or what she is worth to Ryan. Taking deep breaths she follows as fast and as docile as she can. When the right moment presents itself she wants to be ready. They are in the middle of a pine forest, tall trees swaying about them in the slightly dark sky, and pine needles, cones and leaves crackle underneath as two sets of bare feet trample them hastily.
It seems like 15 minutes passes before Claire notices the woman falter between steps. She soon recovers her brisk pace, and walks another twenty feet before she stops completely, causing the doctor to stumble into her. Abstractly Ryan reaches out a hand and rights Claire, and the doctor notes that the soldier's vivid eyes are blinking rapidly. Ryan closes her eyes for a moment, her forehead furrowing, and swallows convulsively, and when she opens them again they seem slightly glazed. The doctor stands perfectly still, feeling the hand around her wrist increase its grip - and then lessen it. She is prepared for action, but is still taken aback when the soldier suddenly crumples to the ground, a breathy gasp escaping her lips as she wraps her arms around her stomach tightly. The pressure around Claire's wrist is abruptly gone, and when the woman begins to throw up violently the doctor takes one last glance at the convulsing body on the ground before she turns around and runs. Her leg muscles and raw feet complain, but she pushes forward without thought, panting sharply against the burning in her chest. When she hears the crashing and cracking of branches behind her she tries to speed up, but she is not much of an athlete. Desperately she twists and turns, attempting to shake off her pursuer, but the tracking sounds draw closer. With the possibility of escape so close, and seemingly about to be dashed, she begins to cry again, and then screams into the sky.
"No! Help me! Somebody! Please!"
3.
"No! Help me! Somebody! Please!"
The only result is that it slows her down, and when two lean arms seize her from behind she collapses to the ground in defeat. "Oh god… just let me go… just let me… "
The arms embrace her tightly as she rails breathlessly, until her tears have slowed down and she's quiet, taking deep lungs full of air to settle her breathing. Then the woman gets up fluidly and takes one arm gently, lifting her to her feet.
"Come on, Walsch. Let's go."
------
At the captain's terse command Markham and Smith continues on to make sure that she has not by some means disabled the immobilizer and gone on to Fairfield. Johnston and Bulley turn back, and are cautioned to begin looking out within a five-minute radius of Fairwater. They almost miss the car-tracks in the grass, and it is only Johnston's fine eye that notices something amiss. Carefully - neither of them looks forward to filling in the compulsory forms when there is damage to the company cars - Bulley drives off the road and into the long grass, swerving between the trees as he listens to Johnston who rattles off commands, his head protruding from the window like a massive basset's. When they approach the back of the stationary red Renault they slow down and stop, casting quick glances about them to ensure that they are alone. A quick once-over ascertains that there is nothing of consequence in the car. Only the access card that Ryan took off Jack Elliot lies on the floor, discarded and useless. Whilst Bulley tries to contact Captain Lewis with his radio, Johnston puts his above-average tracking skills to use and begins to move around, trying to find the direction in which they escaped.
"Captain Lewis, come in."
"Lewis. What have you got for me, Bulley?"
"Car went off the road, on the left coming from Fairwater, veered into the trees. Stationary about 500 feet further, no sign of them. Johnston's checking for tracks now… " he listens to his colleague who calls out from his right, "appears she's heading south-east. Fairfield."
"Check. Let Johnston track, Bulley, but be on the lookout. She's dangerous. I'll get Markham and Smith there. Keep me informed."
"Yes sir."
Johnston shakes his head. "He sends me right off into the lion's mouth and tells you to be careful? What are you, his love-child with Liza Minelli?"
With a grin Bulley smacks his shoulder. "Move it, Johnston. You heard the captain."
The two men track carefully, both surprised by the clearness of the trail that Ryan has left.
"Do you think it could be an ambush?"
"I don't know. I suppose we can expect anything of her, but… by all accounts she's supposed to be doped up. And she's dragging a hostage around with her. I'm sure that luscious doctor isn't exactly willing."
Johnston nods. "Let's move a little slower. But I think you're right."
When they come to a point where there is a small clearing they slow down, but beyond their own sounds and those of the forest there is nothing. Bulley rushes forward to look at the strip of material that has been discarded on the ground while Johnston searches the ground for signs of their passage.
"Well?"
Johnston looks up with a frown decorating his forehead. "Nothing." Then he glances to where they came from. "Aw, crap, Bull, she backtracked."
"Man." Bulley shakes his head. "If I find her I'm personally going to have a lot to say to her. She's ruined my day completely."
------
In deference to Claire's shorter legs and lesser level of fitness Ryan has slowed her steps, but she is still driving the other woman forward mercilessly. Occasionally she stops to stoop slightly and grimace, but she does not make the same mistake twice, and now she keeps a hold of Claire. The doctor has considered hitting her over the head when she is bent double, but she is not sure whether she would be able to knock her out, and she knows that to simply antagonize her would not be wise. She attempts to keep her breath even as they move through the forest. It is approximately half an hour later when they come upon the first house. It is a wooden A-frame, obviously a holiday home; in the back garden, which they are at the edge of, stands a child's swing on a metal frame and a sandpit. At the sight of those things Claire's heart sinks - she does not want this woman anywhere near civilians, but much less so near children. A few feet to their right is a garden shed. Grasping Claire's wrist tightly Ryan sneaks closer and rounds the corner, keeping an eye out for visitors. None are forthcoming. With one hand she presses open the old wooden door and drags her captive inside, waiting until her eyes adjust to the dim light before she acts. Taking a spade off its designated hoo
k on the wall the soldier pulls Claire closer and twists her bonds tightly around the hook. When Claire realizes that she is in front of a small open gap she almost lets her glee show before trying to re-assemble her facial expression into one less shifty. Ryan gives the material around her wrists one more twist before she steps back.
"Call for help and I hurt somebody, doctor. You don't want that."
Dejectedly Claire shakes her head. Ryan nods at her. "You can see out through this gap, so you'll be able to see what I'm doing. If you cause trouble you know what that will be."
With one last look at the woman Ryan sneaks out and closes the door behind her. She has no doubt that the doctor won't endanger other lives. The house's curtains are open, but there is no movement. Sneaking up to the porch Ryan climbs over the rails, stopping for a second to field a bout of nausea before she continues. Dropping to her haunches she presses her back to the wall and creeps up to the white wooden door with the mosquito netting and chances a glance into the house. Apart from a softly blaring radio there is nothing. Executing a tight roll past the door she comes up on the other side and sneaks a look at the other side of the house. There is a small garage, from which the sound of a hammer is coming, combined with a whistled melody. Waiting for a moment Ryan ascertains that whoever is in there is not approaching, before she returns to the door. Grasping the irritating pin that hangs from the handcuff around her wrist, she inserts it into the door's lock, and wraps a hand around it at the point of entry to muffle any noise. Then, without much finesse, she drives the heel of her other hand upwards into the pin. It thrusts into the lock with a muffled thud. Withdrawing the pin Ryan sneaks off the porch and back to the shed, where a quiet and confused Claire is waiting for her. When she untangles the doctor's hands and ties them together again firmly, the blonde woman looks at her questioningly.
"What were you doing?"
"Come on." Without an answer the soldier leads her out of the shed and back into the forest.
It seems to be about fifteen minutes later when once again the soldier's torso begins to spasm, and she clutches her stomach with her free hand. This time, however, she does not throw up - and she does not let the doctor out of her grip. Standing stock still she takes deep breaths and closes her eyes momentarily, before she appears to push it to the back of her mind. "Come on." With a yank on Claire's wrist they move again.
When they come upon the next house, Ryan repeats her previous actions. This time tying Claire to a tree stump, she sneaks closer and investigates. When she is satisfied as to what she has found, she steals to the back door and performs the same ritual with the pin before she returns to the forest and unties Claire.
The doctor is weary by now - it feels as if they have been on the move for more than an hour, and her bare feet are raw in places and smearing blood on the leaves covering the ground. Though it is painful, she does not want to alert the soldier to it, as she realizes that it makes a very clear trail of their journey. If she cannot escape by her own means, she intends to make it as easy as possible for whomever is following them. For a moment she experiences panic as she considers the possibility that nobody is looking for them, and then discards that idea with an attempt at rationality. She has to try and concentrate on the situation at hand, and not give in to terror. Once the moment presents itself, she is determined to talk the woman into releasing her, and for that she needs all her senses about her.
When another house appears between the trees, Claire resolves that this time she will not be quiet. It could mean that somebody else is harmed, but it is the immediate option available to her. She is surprised when, instead of tying her up, Ryan stops and scrutinizes the building from the darkness of the trees before she yanks Claire's arm distantly.
"Let's go."
They approach the house, and the doctor starts to look around wildly. If somebody could just come out right now, she could scream…
Ryan glances at her over her shoulder. "Nobody home."
Claire is furious at herself for hoping, furious at the woman for noticing, furious at the material that binds her wrists. She grits her teeth and glares at the woman walking by her side.
Leading the doctor up the porch steps Ryan approaches the door and tries it, but finds it locked. They leave the porch and walk around the right of the modern house, the soldier trying the windows as they pass them by. None give. When they walk around to the other side Ryan finds a window that is minimally open, and, inserting the pin on her handcuff under it gently, she levers it upwards. With a creaking sound it begins to lift, and she removes the pin to slide one hand under the wooden frame.
"Open it."
At the command Claire unwillingly slides her hands in too, and pushes upwards. Finally the catch slips and the window slides up silently. The doctor is startled when she finds Ryan's large hands wrapping themselves around her sides and lifting her.
"In."
It is a clumsy affair, and though she is already planning to run once she hits the floor, she doesn't expect it to be so literal. With her hands tied she struggles to hold her balance as she lands, and staggers into a small table, stumbling to the floor. A hand wraps itself around her upper arm and levers her upright.
They are in the dining room area of an open-plan lower level. To the left of them is the sitting room, elegant with wingback chairs and a sofa arranged around a fireplace. Stairs lead upwards from behind one of the chairs. In front of them stands a small oak dining room table decorated with a white silk runner. To the right is the kitchen, a neatly set out space with a tall silver fridge on one side and identical double washbasins on the other. The cupboards are dark wood, to match the shining floor.
Ryan approaches the fridge and opens it, studying the contents before she slides open a drawer and pulls out a lovely red apple.
"Here."
She extends it to Claire, who turns her head away.
"No. I don't want it."
"Eat it."
"No. It's stealing."
Casting an unconvinced look in the blonde's direction Ryan shrugs. "Fine." She takes a bite from it, chewing slowly as she peruses the various foodstuffs. When she swallows the first bite she blanches and clenches her jaw tightly together before putting the apple carefully on the counter. Reaching in again she withdraws a blue energy drink, which she also places on the counter before she closes the fridge. The apple, a half-moon white crescent showing in its crimson skin, goes into the dustbin, and then Ryan grasps the bottled drink. Maneuvering Claire towards the stairs she leads her to the second level. From the landing there are three doors - one to the left, which is closed, another directly ahead of them, which appears to be a bathroom, and the third to their right, a bedroom.
A quick glance into the room to the left proves it to be another bedroom, decorated in an ice cream pink. Ryan leads Claire into the bathroom and closes the door behind them. Finding the key in the lock she summarily turns, and then removes it. "Sit down." The doctor takes seat on the edge of the bath and watches as Ryan rifles through the bathroom cabinets beneath the basins. When she turns around she is clasping a small white medical kit. Unlocking the door she grasps Claire's wrist and leads her into the third room, the main bedroom. It is tastefully decorated in earthy shades. Once again finding the key in the door, Ryan locks the door behind them and keeps the key loosely in her hand as she motions for Claire to sit on the large double bed. The soldier tosses the first aid kit onto the bed beside her and studies the room for a moment before she decides to inspect the dressing table. In the second drawer from the top she finds a large costume-jewelry brooch. Unclipping the pin at the back she inserts it into the keyhole of the cuff on her left hand and probes it for a few minutes. When Claire shifts closer to the door Ryan fixes her with that unnerving stare.
"Don't."
With a small click the cuff unclips from her wrist and she begins to work on the right wrist. It takes her a while longer, but finally the cuff, and the pin attached to it, falls to the floor to lie next to
its companion. Rubbing her left wrist lightly Ryan returns the brooch to its place before she approaches the bed. Reaching over a cringing Claire she takes the kit and crouches at her feet, extending a hand towards the blonde's leg. When Claire recoils Ryan glances upwards at her, the green eyes bright in the light of the window behind them. "Show me your feet."
Claire has no option but to lift her right foot. Ryan examines the battered sole before she places it back on the mat and returns to the bathroom to retrieve her drink. When she returns she places it beside her on the carpet and holds out the towel, which she has brought with her. "Your foot."
Claire extends her right foot again and the soldier begins, gently, to clean the debris from it. When she has done the same with the other foot she rummages in the first aid kit and brings out an ointment, which she applies to the soles of both feet. Claire is ticklish, and she cannot help but curl her toes as the long fingers circle over her flesh. When Ryan is finished she puts the kit down on the bed and cracks open the drink, taking a long sip. "Keep your feet off the floor," she advises as she turns around and begins to open closet doors. Rapidly Claire pulls closer the kit and begins to search through it for needles, scissors, anything that would be usable as a weapon. When she glances up Ryan is standing in front of a closet full of clothing, and has stepped out of her dirty white drawstring pants. Her posture is proud and erect, and Claire cannot help but notice the fading bruise at the base of her spine and the myriad of scars which decorate her skin. The woman's tall frame is spare and lean, and from the protruding bones of her shoulders and the bumps of her spine it is clear that she has not been eating well.
