Lurking: Chapter 2
She felt her legs begin to buckle, the gun digging into her lower back, pushing her forward, closer to the waiting figure. The clown raised his arms, beckoning her. The corridor started to swim in front of her, as she stumbled, dizzy and disoriented. The clown's voice, slow and deep, called out to her.
"Alex.."
"No... please..." She whimpered, dragging her feet but somehow feeling as though she was on some kind of conveyor belt, beginning to speed towards the sinister white being who watched her progress, impassive.
"Right, sunshine, let go of her, right now" Hunt's firm voice called out, and the corridor began to stabilize beneath her feet. Her kidnapper whirled her round and pointed his weapon at Gene, who was standing in the open doorway with his gun in one hand, face grimly determined as he nursed the back of his head with the other.
"Oh, go on, really, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to turn you into a human colander, but you will let her go." He yelled, but the masked man was still silent. Alex looked back, but the clown was no longer there.
She was only a few feet away from the end of the corridor. Thinking as quickly as she could while her mind cleared, she planned an escape, and elbowed the gunman in the stomach. In her wooziness, it didn't have nearly the power it could have had, and instead seemed to enrage him.
"Drake! No!" Hunt bellowed and started to run to them as the gunman raised his weapon. He brought it crashing down on her head. She crumpled to the floor and he fled. Hunt reached Alex, and faced a brief moment of indecision as he heard the main doors flung open. She wasn't unconscious, but she was clearly stricken.
"Bloody hell, Bolly, have I got to carry you again?" He muttered as he inspected the livid welt appearing on her temple. "And you've got the brass-necked cheek to call me lazy."
She felt him scoop her up, and sank into him, the pain in her head hot and angry. He carried her confidently; he was still a broad-shouldered, strong man for all the creep of the years elsewhere. She was still slumped, dizzy and unfocused, but her eyes open and her head resting on him where he had grown too used to it.
Hunt allowed himself a downward glance. She met his eyes briefly, porcelain perfect features marred by the bruise on her forehead.
The main door opened in front of them and Hunt looked up to see Evan walking in, all carefully coiffed and tailored. He met Hunt's stony glare with his studied air of concern.
"DCI Hunt? What's happened?"
"You might very well ask, Mr Suit. How very convenient of you to show up now." Hunt snarled. Alex focused on Evan. She was clearly groggy, but she managed a nervous smile.
"Evan, you're here."
Evan ignored Hunt's aggressive demeanour and moved to look at Alex's head.
"God, Alex, what's happened?" He said, reaching out a hand.
"She got pistol-whipped by the invisible man. He magically appeared where she'd arranged to meet you." Gene pulled her back from Evan's out-stretched hand.
Evan half-laughed incredulously. "Well, you don't think I...? Why would I do that?"
"I don't pretend to know why toffty scum-defending tossers do what they do."
"Hunt, put me down." Alex insisted, her voice still unsteady.
"You're staying where you are, Bolly, you're wounded." Hunt tightened his hold on her, despite her wriggling protestations. "Perhaps the sainted Mr Suit can tell us what it was that was he needed to meet you in a deserted office block to tell you?"
"I.. I don't really think this a good idea anymore, Mr Hunt. Perhaps you should put the lady down, she clearly doesn't want you to hold her any longer." Evan replied.
"She doesn't know what she wants. Now, how long have you been here?"
"I've just arrived, as you saw. This was supposed to be a private meeting between me and DI Drake."
Hunt sniffed. "Are you with-holding information about a police matter? Because that could end very badly for you indeed."
"I really don't think you want to be threatening me, DCI Hunt. You have no idea what you're dealing with." Evan's tone was still dismissive, but there was something darker there now, and Alex, even through the concussion, sensed the atmosphere change.
"Alex.."
"No... please..." She whimpered, dragging her feet but somehow feeling as though she was on some kind of conveyor belt, beginning to speed towards the sinister white being who watched her progress, impassive.
"Right, sunshine, let go of her, right now" Hunt's firm voice called out, and the corridor began to stabilize beneath her feet. Her kidnapper whirled her round and pointed his weapon at Gene, who was standing in the open doorway with his gun in one hand, face grimly determined as he nursed the back of his head with the other.
"Oh, go on, really, nothing would give me greater pleasure than to turn you into a human colander, but you will let her go." He yelled, but the masked man was still silent. Alex looked back, but the clown was no longer there.
She was only a few feet away from the end of the corridor. Thinking as quickly as she could while her mind cleared, she planned an escape, and elbowed the gunman in the stomach. In her wooziness, it didn't have nearly the power it could have had, and instead seemed to enrage him.
"Drake! No!" Hunt bellowed and started to run to them as the gunman raised his weapon. He brought it crashing down on her head. She crumpled to the floor and he fled. Hunt reached Alex, and faced a brief moment of indecision as he heard the main doors flung open. She wasn't unconscious, but she was clearly stricken.
"Bloody hell, Bolly, have I got to carry you again?" He muttered as he inspected the livid welt appearing on her temple. "And you've got the brass-necked cheek to call me lazy."
She felt him scoop her up, and sank into him, the pain in her head hot and angry. He carried her confidently; he was still a broad-shouldered, strong man for all the creep of the years elsewhere. She was still slumped, dizzy and unfocused, but her eyes open and her head resting on him where he had grown too used to it.
Hunt allowed himself a downward glance. She met his eyes briefly, porcelain perfect features marred by the bruise on her forehead.
The main door opened in front of them and Hunt looked up to see Evan walking in, all carefully coiffed and tailored. He met Hunt's stony glare with his studied air of concern.
"DCI Hunt? What's happened?"
"You might very well ask, Mr Suit. How very convenient of you to show up now." Hunt snarled. Alex focused on Evan. She was clearly groggy, but she managed a nervous smile.
"Evan, you're here."
Evan ignored Hunt's aggressive demeanour and moved to look at Alex's head.
"God, Alex, what's happened?" He said, reaching out a hand.
"She got pistol-whipped by the invisible man. He magically appeared where she'd arranged to meet you." Gene pulled her back from Evan's out-stretched hand.
Evan half-laughed incredulously. "Well, you don't think I...? Why would I do that?"
"I don't pretend to know why toffty scum-defending tossers do what they do."
"Hunt, put me down." Alex insisted, her voice still unsteady.
"You're staying where you are, Bolly, you're wounded." Hunt tightened his hold on her, despite her wriggling protestations. "Perhaps the sainted Mr Suit can tell us what it was that was he needed to meet you in a deserted office block to tell you?"
"I.. I don't really think this a good idea anymore, Mr Hunt. Perhaps you should put the lady down, she clearly doesn't want you to hold her any longer." Evan replied.
"She doesn't know what she wants. Now, how long have you been here?"
"I've just arrived, as you saw. This was supposed to be a private meeting between me and DI Drake."
Hunt sniffed. "Are you with-holding information about a police matter? Because that could end very badly for you indeed."
"I really don't think you want to be threatening me, DCI Hunt. You have no idea what you're dealing with." Evan's tone was still dismissive, but there was something darker there now, and Alex, even through the concussion, sensed the atmosphere change.