Primeval Fic: Reboot - Part 3 (Ex-Art Fic)
Title: Reboot - Part 3
Author: knitekat
Word Count: ~3955 out of a total of ~14555.
Characters: Nick Cutter, Stephen Hart, James Lester plus ARC team.
Rating: 18
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. Certainly not me. Writing for fun and will replace.
A/N 1: Based on eriah211's art fic prompt < - I didn’t finish it in time due to a plot hole, which I hope I’ve now solved. Hope you enjoy it.
AN 2: Thanks go to fififolle for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
My training finally overcame the shock paralysing my body and I scrabbled away from it, my smooth-soled shoes slipping on the floor. My hand reached out blindly for the pistol I had dropped, knowing it was my only chance, poor that it was, of surviving this encounter without the mammoth.
I frowned when I heard the distant crash of thunder, only realising it was gunfire when the Predator staggered as red blossomed against the grey of its hide. More red appeared on it as the Predator lunged at me again and I knew this was it. I cried out as it landed on me, hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. I just lay on the floor, gasping for air and half expecting the Predator to rip my heart out. I took longer than I would ever want to admit to realise it was dead and to recall the presence of Cutter and Hart.
“Lester?” Cutter called out, kneeling beside me and I felt him tap my cheek as I just stared at the toothy maw of the Predator. “James?” he repeated, his worried voice cutting through the daze I seemed to have fallen in, I believed from a mix of shock and the adrenalin fading from my system. “Quick! Stephen, help me get it off him.”
I admit I grunted when the Predator was dragged away and then I felt hands on my chest. I winced when my shirt was torn open, did they - I blinked and Hart’s face swam into view - did Hart had any idea how much it had cost? Not that I had the opportunity to inform him as he pressed a dressing down hard on my injury, forcing a cry from my lips. “You’re bloody lucky,” he muttered.
I eyed him in disbelief before managing, “Two attacks in the ARC.”
“Two attacks you’ve survived,” Cutter said. “Others haven’t been so lucky. How is he?” he asked Hart.
“I am here, you know,” I snapped, his words reminding me of what I had lost. “Maybe that’s the problem, maybe I’m invisible.”
“Lester?” Hart’s fingers gripped my chin gently and he turned my head until he could look at my eyes. “Did you hit your head?”
“What are you blathering on about?” I said as I wrenched my head from his grasp, wincing as my chest protested.
Hart shook his head before we all jumped at a distant clang and whatever he had been about to say was forgotten. “Bloody hell,” Hart muttered instead before he hauled me to my feet without warning. My vision greyed out for a moment and I would have fallen except he unceremoniously slung my arm over his shoulder when I swayed. “Cover us,” he ordered Cutter before he half-dragged, half-supported me into the garage.
It took several moments before I heard Cutter’s footsteps following us into the garage and then Cutter was hurrying past us to open his Hilux. I almost bit my lip through as I was helped into the back seat.
I raised an eyebrow when he walked around to the other side of the car and climbed in beside me, leaving Cutter to drive. “Hart?” I queried, having heard about Cutter’s driving ability, or rather lack of it, from multiple reports.
“I know first aid,” Hart informed me before adding, “Cutter… doesn’t.”
“Fine,” I muttered, raising my voice for Cutter’s benefit, “Any damages are coming out of your wages.”
“We haven’t been paid in weeks,” Hart reminded me.
“A minor detail,” I drawled. “A mere oversight when the world is ending around us.” I turned my attention to Cutter. “Is there a reason we haven’t left yet?”
“Our lord-and-master has spoken, Nick,” Hart said before turning his attention back to my wound. I hissed as he prodded the dressing and applied more tape to it. “It should hold until we can get you proper medical treatment.”
“Wonderful,” I muttered. “Once we’ve found the anomaly, trampled through the Permian and found an anomaly to this ‘alternative reality’? How perfect.”
“Ready?” Cutter asked before reversing the car without waiting for an answer. I winced when he ground the gears before finding the one I assumed he was after and pulling away in a squeal of rubber, clearly demonstrating why no one liked him driving.
“Cutter?” I called out as we approached the barrier and he didn’t appear to be slowing down. I winced once more when he crashed into the barrier, smashing through it. Although I supposed he couldn’t very well get out to open it with who knew how many bloody Predators about, but I was very glad it wasn’t my Mercedes he was abusing.
I relaxed slightly when we cleared the main building of the ARC when I heard something land on the roof. Something large and I could hear claws scrabbling on the paintwork. My eyes widened when a Predator’s drooling, fang-filled face loomed through the window at me, only the scant protection of the glass between us. Its drool left a trail down the window as its claws scrapped shrilly on the glass as it tried to reach me. I could only watch, almost mesmerised, when I noticed the scratches appear on the glass and knew it was only a matter of time before the window shattered and...
I cried out, sliding on the seat as the car jolted forward, accelerating hard as Cutter put his foot down, and I couldn’t help think that on a normal day, Cutter would have crashed into another vehicle. Maybe the end of the world had its bright points after all, this was the fastest I had ever left the ARC at this time of day. Unfortunately, the Predator still clung on like an overgrown and unwanted limpet to the car, even if it was now using its claws to hang on rather than attempting to break in.
Cutter swore before yelling out, “Hang on.” Not that he gave me any time to grab onto anything before he spun the wheel hard, the Hilux spinning around and around. Pain lanced through my chest as I was thrown forward and towards the gaping maw of the Predator, at least I was until Cutter spun the wheel the other way and I slid into Hart.
“Damn it, Nick,” Hart cried out and I felt him tug me into his arms. I struggled, attempting to free myself from his grasp. “Stay still,” Hart hissed in my ear as he moved slightly, placing his feet against the back of the front seat before pressing himself back into the seat. It took me longer than I was happy with to realise he was bracing both of us to protect us from Cutter’s so-called driving.
“Hart,” I managed before hissing as Cutter’s erratic driving had both Hart and myself sliding across the seat before Hart managed to stop us, a foot wedged in the back of the front passenger seat and the other against the door.
“Is he OK?” Cutter yelled back.
“I’ve been better,” I replied, trying to relax my tense muscles. I frowned, knowing I should be concerned about something, cursing softly when I recalled what it was.
“Lester?” Hart asked worriedly.
“I’m fine,” I said, hearing his disbelieving snort at my lie. “Where’s the Predator?”
“Still clinging on,” Cutter replied. “Stephen, hold on.”
“Why?” I asked before swearing as he suddenly braked, throwing me forwards once more and sending white-hot agony through my chest. I was barely aware of the Hilux accelerating away or of the slight bump as we ran over something.
***
The next time I woke it was dark and we appeared to be motoring at some speed down what I could only hope was a motorway. I stared out the window for a moment, watching a scant few headlights on the other carriageway. It took me a few moments to realise I was leaning against someone and I moved slightly away from them now we appeared to be travelling without Cutter’s excessive manoeuvrers.
“Back with us, Lester?” Cutter’s soft Scottish tones reached my ears and I realised he must have traded places with Hart. Fuck, how long had I been out?”
“Where are we?” I managed, my voice raspy.
“Hold on,” Cutter muttered and I could hear him rummaging before I sighed when he held a bottle to my lips.
“Don’t give him too much,” Hart’s voice carried back to me. “Not until I can check his injury.”
“Thanks,” I muttered but as much as I wanted to curse Cutter (for obeying that order) and Hart (for giving it), I wasn’t a fool when it came to first aid. I frowned as I remembered Cutter hadn’t answered my question. “Where are we?”
“On our way to the Forest of Dean,” Cutter told me, as if I’d forgotten that detail.
“I know that,” I snapped wearily.
“Get some more sleep,” Hart ordered before Cutter could say a word.
I wasn’t willing to obey, my mind a whirl of thoughts and options, but I felt my eyes drift shut. I forced them open several times, even though I knew this could be the last safe sleep I would have before we ventured into the Permian and the unknown we would find if Cutter was correct about changing events. I could only hope that Cutter was right, but I couldn’t help the nagging doubt we would only change our own fate, not that of this world and those still alive who we would abandon to their doom. I stared out of the window blindly, lost in my guilt and regret.
***
“Lester?” A voice said.
“Come on, Lester, time to wake up.” A second voice spoke.
I groaned and batted a hand from my face.
“That’s it,” the first voice said. “You need to wake up, James.” I slowly recognised the voice as Cutter’s.
“Wha?” I’m sorry to say it was not the most articulate comment I had ever made.
“Open your eyes, James,” Cutter ordered.
Cutter hadn’t used my first name often, the first time was when Leek had held him… and with that recollection, memory came flooding back. I forced my eyes open to meet the worried gazes of both Cutter and Hart. I tried to sit up before pain lanced through my chest and left me panting.
“Back with us?” That was Hart.
“What happened?” I managed, my voice croaky and my mind muddled. “Where are we?”
“How do you feel?” Cutter asked, his expression worried.
I indulged myself with an eye roll. “My chest hurts like blazes, Cutter, what do you think?”
“That if you can snark, you’ll be fine,” Cutter replied, earning himself a chuckle from Hart.
I hissed slightly when Hart helped me to sit up. “Easy,” he muttered as he held a bottle against my lips. I drank as greedily as Hart allowed me to before repeated, “Where are we?”
Cutter muttered something I didn’t understand so I turned to look at Hart, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
“We’re stuck,” Hart told me.
“Stuck?” I repeated. “How are we stuck?”
“The bridge is out,” Hart said softly.
“How?” I asked, although something nagged at my consciousness.
“That storm last night,” Cutter replied, sounding somewhat aggrieved, even if I had no idea why.
“The one that had you demanding we stop and that I took over the driving,” Hart added before snorting at my confused look. “And you obviously don’t remember saying that.”
I shook my head, I recalled some rain but not a storm. “Now what?”
Hart didn’t answer, instead he handed me an energy bar. “Eat it. You need the energy.”
I glanced at it in distaste before forcing myself to eat the bland and dry bar, only then realising how hungry I was. I knew I wouldn’t like the answer but I had to know. “Is there another road?”
“Not that won’t take us miles out of our way,” Hart replied. “And you did say there was a deadline.”
I might be a troubleshooter but I needed information to make decisions. “Options?” I asked, wincing slightly as I moved into a more comfortable position. I gratefully swallowed the water Hart allowed me to drink, washing the energy bar down.
“We’ll have to get across here,” Cutter said, stating the blindingly obvious. “Stephen?”
“I’ve one idea,” Hart murmured, his gaze on the harpoon gun he’d kept and I had the horrible feeling I knew exactly what his plan was. “I can rig a Tyrolean traverse to get us across.” At Cutter’s blank look and my somewhat suspicious one, Hart continued, his words only confirming my worst fears. “I’ll use the harpoon gun to fire a line across,” he said. “If I aim for the trees, I should be able to tangle it in the branches before wedging the gun on this side.”
Hart’s words didn’t fill me with confidence and I just stared at him for a moment before finding my voice. “And how do you expect me to cross?” I noticed him scowl, although I couldn’t tell if it was at my question or the disbelief clear in my voice.
Hart looked thoughtful for a moment before he gave a sharp nod. “I’ll have to rig up a harness for you. Nick too. There should be something in the boot I can use.”
“Your confidence inspires us all,” I murmured, earning myself a chuckle from Cutter.
“Do you have a better idea?” Hart demanded.
I didn't so I shook my head and sighed. “Not at all, Dr Hart, please do continue.” I watched, curiosity despite my doubts, as Hart wandered up and down the riverbank and peered across, glancing occasionally at the trees on our side of the river. “Hart?”
“I do know what I’m doing, Lester,” Hart almost growled back at me.
“Excellent,” I replied. “But please remember we’re running out of time.”
Hart shot me a look before nodding. “This looks as good as any,” he muttered, once more filling me with confidence, before he aimed and fired. I watched the harpoon lance through the air to clatter amongst the branches of a tree. I held my breath when Hart tugged on the line, hoping that the harpoon didn’t slip free, for I had no idea if Hart would be able to reel it back in and try again.
“Got ya!” Hart crowed when the line held, no matter how much he tugged on it and he turned victorious eyes on me.
“Well done, Hart,” I murmured, before bursting his bubble by adding, “But we’re not across yet.”
Hart sobered before nodding. “Give me a moment,” he said as he wound some of the line around a tree and wedging the harpoon gun in firmly.
***
It took far less time than I wanted, even if I knew it was longer than we could afford to waste, for Hart to create his harness. It was a ramshackle affair constructed out of the webbing straps used to secure tranquillised animals for transport and I eyed it with distaste. I couldn’t help but ask, “Is it safe?”
Hart gave it several sharp tugs before declaring, “Seems to be.”
Cutter chuckled, presumably at the look on my face, and I couldn’t resist. “After you, Professor.”
Hart shook his head as he picked up a second rope. “I need to secure a second line first, plus someone needs to help you on this side and off once you’re across.”
“Fine,” I muttered, eyeing both Hart’s contraption and the rapidly flowing river with distaste. “But this had better work.”
“If it doesn’t, you can tell me so,” Hart shot back. “Providing you do it quickly.” He grinned before showing Cutter and I how to get into the harness and attach it to the rope. “OK?”
“No,” I said before meeting his gaze. “But we have no other choice, do we?”
“No,” Hart agreed. I watched as he wrapped a second rope around a large tree before tying it off. “Remember, you need to attach the harness to this line. It will hold better.”
“That fills me with so much confidence,” I replied, sobering when I saw the worry on Cutter’s face as he watched Hart swing onto the rope, the second rope trailing in the river as he began his crossing. I mused that the end of the world had one positive outcome in that it had made these two oblivious fools realise their mutual attraction.
My attention returned to the river at Cutter’s gasp and I quickly realised what had happened. Hart’s grip must have slipped for he was hanging onto the rope with only his legs, his hands trailing in the swift flowing water. I watched as he flexed his torso in an attempt to regain his grip and I dragged my thoughts away from his toned body and to the harpoon, hoping it held under Hart’s exertions. I gasped when the harpoon pulled free from some of the branches, sending Hart dangerously close to submersion in the river. I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding when the harpoon caught once more. I returned my attention to Hart, smiling when I realised he had regained his grip and was now moving swiftly hand over hand, even if he was still, in my opinion, hanging precariously upside down from the rope.
Cutter almost slumped to his knees when Hart’s feet touched the sodden ground on the other side of the river and I knew without a doubt that they had kissed and made up and I really didn’t want to think about that, not only was I not a voyeur but it brought back memories of my own long-dead lover.
“Ready?” Cutter asked and I had to wonder how long I’d been lost in my bitter-sweet memories when he gently shook my shoulder and repeated, “James? Are you OK?” I shook my head to scatter those memories and found myself staring into Cutter’s eyes when he lifted my chin. “James?”
I took a deep, somewhat shaky breath and nodded. “Just wool-gathering,” I murmured when I saw the concern in his eyes. I closed my own eyes when I saw the sudden understanding in his gaze, cursing when the professor had become so observant.
“Come on, James,” Cutter said, thankfully deciding discretion was a good idea for once, and helped me to stand up.
I gripped the second rope while Cutter snapped the carabiner onto it, and wondered how the hell I was supposed to do this. As it was, I gave a mostly suppressed yelp when Cutter grabbed one of my legs. “Unhand me, Cutter!”
“Can you get your leg over without my help?” Cutter said before blushing furiously.
I admit I couldn’t help but chuckle at his unfortunately comment. “I’m perfectly capable of doing so, Cutter,” I informed him haughtily, although I found myself unable to resist seeing how much he would blush and added, “However, that is with my lover, not a rope.” Cutter just stared at me, his mouth open as he turned beet-red and I felt a grin tug at my lips before I laughed, clutching at my chest as it bloody hurt to do so, no matter how much I… no, looking at Cutter as the man laughed, how much we needed it.
“I don’t want to know,” Cutter muttered, regaining control of his laughter if not his blushing, and raised an eyebrow at me. “Now, do you need me to help?”
I sobered as well, especially when I heard Hart shouting at us to get a move on. “If you would be so kind, Professor.” It bloody hurt and I took several seconds to regain my composure once I had my legs wrapped around the rope. I hoped I didn’t look too undignified as I hung upside down from the rope, dangling in the harness Hart had made.
“James?” Cutter’s voice cut through my musings. “Are you ready?”
I frowned at him before I felt a tug and realised Hart planned to haul me over like a sack of potatoes. I might be injured, I might not be sure how much I could help or even if I could, but I’d be damned before I didn’t try. I winced when I reached up for the rope and hauled on it, moving myself a scant inch and gasping as that action sent pain through my body.
Nick’s grasped my arm, untangling my fingers from the rope. “Let Stephen do it, James.” When I hesitated, Nick added, “Please, James.”
I sighed before reluctantly nodding, I knew I’d be no use to them or myself if I passed out midway. I forced the fingers of my other hand to let go of the rope, although I grasped the harness instead, needing to hold on to something and felt Cutter squeeze my arm. “Hart!” He bellowed, almost making me hiss as I jumped. “We’re good to go.”
I felt myself tugged forward a foot or so before I stopped, I frowned before moving another foot and realised that Hart needed to change his grip on the rope between pulls. Without needing to concentrate on dragging myself across I found my attention drawn to the raging torrent beneath my head and swallowed hard as I watched a log float straight towards me.
I heard Cutter yell out a warning to Hart and then I was yanked forward, gasping as my chest ached from the sudden jolt and feeling the log brush against me. The urge to grab the rope and help was almost overwhelming but I knew I’d be more of a hindrance than a help.
Still, I was exhausted by the time I reached the other side of the river and only got out of the harness with Hart’s help. I could barely stand as the adrenalin rush faded and it was only Hart’s arms which stopped me collapsing unceremoniously to the ground. As it was, I felt him ease me against a tree and I was so grateful of being able to rest that I didn’t even complain about the sodden ground ruining my suit. He pressed a bottle of water into my shaking hands, ordering me to sip it slowly while he helped Cutter across. I took the vastly shorter time it took Cutter to make it over to regain my breath and to consider our options.
“Rest time's over, Lester,” Cutter told me as he grabbed my arm to haul me to my feet. “Time to go.”
I shook my head and resisted his pull.
“James?” Cutter said concerned as he dropped to his knees beside me. “Stephen!”
Hart joined us and I hissed as he checked my dressings once more. “We can rest when we’re through the anomaly.”
I shook my head. “Leave me here.”
“Lester?”
“I’ll just slow you down,” I informed them. “Especially if we meet something big and nasty with teeth.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” Cutter declared.
I glared at him. “I would hope not.” I watched him relax until I added, “There’s a cottage over there that looks adequate.”
“I said we’re not leaving you here,” Cutter repeated.
“Give up, Lester, you know how stubborn Nick is,” Hart chipped in, earning himself a glare from Cutter.
“You have to stop the Predators and I’ll only slow you down,” I repeated, trying to get them to understand. “That’s the only thing that matters.”
Hart snorted. “And you call me a martyr.”
“I call you an idiotic martyr.” In my opinion, Hart was. I was making a logical choice when I was out of options, Hart wouldn’t even have considered any other possibility before sacrificing himself. “I’m making the call for the good of the mission.”
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Author: knitekat
Word Count: ~3955 out of a total of ~14555.
Characters: Nick Cutter, Stephen Hart, James Lester plus ARC team.
Rating: 18
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. Certainly not me. Writing for fun and will replace.
A/N 1: Based on eriah211's art fic prompt < - I didn’t finish it in time due to a plot hole, which I hope I’ve now solved. Hope you enjoy it.
AN 2: Thanks go to fififolle for the beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
My training finally overcame the shock paralysing my body and I scrabbled away from it, my smooth-soled shoes slipping on the floor. My hand reached out blindly for the pistol I had dropped, knowing it was my only chance, poor that it was, of surviving this encounter without the mammoth.
I frowned when I heard the distant crash of thunder, only realising it was gunfire when the Predator staggered as red blossomed against the grey of its hide. More red appeared on it as the Predator lunged at me again and I knew this was it. I cried out as it landed on me, hard enough to knock the breath from my lungs. I just lay on the floor, gasping for air and half expecting the Predator to rip my heart out. I took longer than I would ever want to admit to realise it was dead and to recall the presence of Cutter and Hart.
“Lester?” Cutter called out, kneeling beside me and I felt him tap my cheek as I just stared at the toothy maw of the Predator. “James?” he repeated, his worried voice cutting through the daze I seemed to have fallen in, I believed from a mix of shock and the adrenalin fading from my system. “Quick! Stephen, help me get it off him.”
I admit I grunted when the Predator was dragged away and then I felt hands on my chest. I winced when my shirt was torn open, did they - I blinked and Hart’s face swam into view - did Hart had any idea how much it had cost? Not that I had the opportunity to inform him as he pressed a dressing down hard on my injury, forcing a cry from my lips. “You’re bloody lucky,” he muttered.
I eyed him in disbelief before managing, “Two attacks in the ARC.”
“Two attacks you’ve survived,” Cutter said. “Others haven’t been so lucky. How is he?” he asked Hart.
“I am here, you know,” I snapped, his words reminding me of what I had lost. “Maybe that’s the problem, maybe I’m invisible.”
“Lester?” Hart’s fingers gripped my chin gently and he turned my head until he could look at my eyes. “Did you hit your head?”
“What are you blathering on about?” I said as I wrenched my head from his grasp, wincing as my chest protested.
Hart shook his head before we all jumped at a distant clang and whatever he had been about to say was forgotten. “Bloody hell,” Hart muttered instead before he hauled me to my feet without warning. My vision greyed out for a moment and I would have fallen except he unceremoniously slung my arm over his shoulder when I swayed. “Cover us,” he ordered Cutter before he half-dragged, half-supported me into the garage.
It took several moments before I heard Cutter’s footsteps following us into the garage and then Cutter was hurrying past us to open his Hilux. I almost bit my lip through as I was helped into the back seat.
I raised an eyebrow when he walked around to the other side of the car and climbed in beside me, leaving Cutter to drive. “Hart?” I queried, having heard about Cutter’s driving ability, or rather lack of it, from multiple reports.
“I know first aid,” Hart informed me before adding, “Cutter… doesn’t.”
“Fine,” I muttered, raising my voice for Cutter’s benefit, “Any damages are coming out of your wages.”
“We haven’t been paid in weeks,” Hart reminded me.
“A minor detail,” I drawled. “A mere oversight when the world is ending around us.” I turned my attention to Cutter. “Is there a reason we haven’t left yet?”
“Our lord-and-master has spoken, Nick,” Hart said before turning his attention back to my wound. I hissed as he prodded the dressing and applied more tape to it. “It should hold until we can get you proper medical treatment.”
“Wonderful,” I muttered. “Once we’ve found the anomaly, trampled through the Permian and found an anomaly to this ‘alternative reality’? How perfect.”
“Ready?” Cutter asked before reversing the car without waiting for an answer. I winced when he ground the gears before finding the one I assumed he was after and pulling away in a squeal of rubber, clearly demonstrating why no one liked him driving.
“Cutter?” I called out as we approached the barrier and he didn’t appear to be slowing down. I winced once more when he crashed into the barrier, smashing through it. Although I supposed he couldn’t very well get out to open it with who knew how many bloody Predators about, but I was very glad it wasn’t my Mercedes he was abusing.
I relaxed slightly when we cleared the main building of the ARC when I heard something land on the roof. Something large and I could hear claws scrabbling on the paintwork. My eyes widened when a Predator’s drooling, fang-filled face loomed through the window at me, only the scant protection of the glass between us. Its drool left a trail down the window as its claws scrapped shrilly on the glass as it tried to reach me. I could only watch, almost mesmerised, when I noticed the scratches appear on the glass and knew it was only a matter of time before the window shattered and...
I cried out, sliding on the seat as the car jolted forward, accelerating hard as Cutter put his foot down, and I couldn’t help think that on a normal day, Cutter would have crashed into another vehicle. Maybe the end of the world had its bright points after all, this was the fastest I had ever left the ARC at this time of day. Unfortunately, the Predator still clung on like an overgrown and unwanted limpet to the car, even if it was now using its claws to hang on rather than attempting to break in.
Cutter swore before yelling out, “Hang on.” Not that he gave me any time to grab onto anything before he spun the wheel hard, the Hilux spinning around and around. Pain lanced through my chest as I was thrown forward and towards the gaping maw of the Predator, at least I was until Cutter spun the wheel the other way and I slid into Hart.
“Damn it, Nick,” Hart cried out and I felt him tug me into his arms. I struggled, attempting to free myself from his grasp. “Stay still,” Hart hissed in my ear as he moved slightly, placing his feet against the back of the front seat before pressing himself back into the seat. It took me longer than I was happy with to realise he was bracing both of us to protect us from Cutter’s so-called driving.
“Hart,” I managed before hissing as Cutter’s erratic driving had both Hart and myself sliding across the seat before Hart managed to stop us, a foot wedged in the back of the front passenger seat and the other against the door.
“Is he OK?” Cutter yelled back.
“I’ve been better,” I replied, trying to relax my tense muscles. I frowned, knowing I should be concerned about something, cursing softly when I recalled what it was.
“Lester?” Hart asked worriedly.
“I’m fine,” I said, hearing his disbelieving snort at my lie. “Where’s the Predator?”
“Still clinging on,” Cutter replied. “Stephen, hold on.”
“Why?” I asked before swearing as he suddenly braked, throwing me forwards once more and sending white-hot agony through my chest. I was barely aware of the Hilux accelerating away or of the slight bump as we ran over something.
***
The next time I woke it was dark and we appeared to be motoring at some speed down what I could only hope was a motorway. I stared out the window for a moment, watching a scant few headlights on the other carriageway. It took me a few moments to realise I was leaning against someone and I moved slightly away from them now we appeared to be travelling without Cutter’s excessive manoeuvrers.
“Back with us, Lester?” Cutter’s soft Scottish tones reached my ears and I realised he must have traded places with Hart. Fuck, how long had I been out?”
“Where are we?” I managed, my voice raspy.
“Hold on,” Cutter muttered and I could hear him rummaging before I sighed when he held a bottle to my lips.
“Don’t give him too much,” Hart’s voice carried back to me. “Not until I can check his injury.”
“Thanks,” I muttered but as much as I wanted to curse Cutter (for obeying that order) and Hart (for giving it), I wasn’t a fool when it came to first aid. I frowned as I remembered Cutter hadn’t answered my question. “Where are we?”
“On our way to the Forest of Dean,” Cutter told me, as if I’d forgotten that detail.
“I know that,” I snapped wearily.
“Get some more sleep,” Hart ordered before Cutter could say a word.
I wasn’t willing to obey, my mind a whirl of thoughts and options, but I felt my eyes drift shut. I forced them open several times, even though I knew this could be the last safe sleep I would have before we ventured into the Permian and the unknown we would find if Cutter was correct about changing events. I could only hope that Cutter was right, but I couldn’t help the nagging doubt we would only change our own fate, not that of this world and those still alive who we would abandon to their doom. I stared out of the window blindly, lost in my guilt and regret.
***
“Lester?” A voice said.
“Come on, Lester, time to wake up.” A second voice spoke.
I groaned and batted a hand from my face.
“That’s it,” the first voice said. “You need to wake up, James.” I slowly recognised the voice as Cutter’s.
“Wha?” I’m sorry to say it was not the most articulate comment I had ever made.
“Open your eyes, James,” Cutter ordered.
Cutter hadn’t used my first name often, the first time was when Leek had held him… and with that recollection, memory came flooding back. I forced my eyes open to meet the worried gazes of both Cutter and Hart. I tried to sit up before pain lanced through my chest and left me panting.
“Back with us?” That was Hart.
“What happened?” I managed, my voice croaky and my mind muddled. “Where are we?”
“How do you feel?” Cutter asked, his expression worried.
I indulged myself with an eye roll. “My chest hurts like blazes, Cutter, what do you think?”
“That if you can snark, you’ll be fine,” Cutter replied, earning himself a chuckle from Hart.
I hissed slightly when Hart helped me to sit up. “Easy,” he muttered as he held a bottle against my lips. I drank as greedily as Hart allowed me to before repeated, “Where are we?”
Cutter muttered something I didn’t understand so I turned to look at Hart, one eyebrow raised questioningly.
“We’re stuck,” Hart told me.
“Stuck?” I repeated. “How are we stuck?”
“The bridge is out,” Hart said softly.
“How?” I asked, although something nagged at my consciousness.
“That storm last night,” Cutter replied, sounding somewhat aggrieved, even if I had no idea why.
“The one that had you demanding we stop and that I took over the driving,” Hart added before snorting at my confused look. “And you obviously don’t remember saying that.”
I shook my head, I recalled some rain but not a storm. “Now what?”
Hart didn’t answer, instead he handed me an energy bar. “Eat it. You need the energy.”
I glanced at it in distaste before forcing myself to eat the bland and dry bar, only then realising how hungry I was. I knew I wouldn’t like the answer but I had to know. “Is there another road?”
“Not that won’t take us miles out of our way,” Hart replied. “And you did say there was a deadline.”
I might be a troubleshooter but I needed information to make decisions. “Options?” I asked, wincing slightly as I moved into a more comfortable position. I gratefully swallowed the water Hart allowed me to drink, washing the energy bar down.
“We’ll have to get across here,” Cutter said, stating the blindingly obvious. “Stephen?”
“I’ve one idea,” Hart murmured, his gaze on the harpoon gun he’d kept and I had the horrible feeling I knew exactly what his plan was. “I can rig a Tyrolean traverse to get us across.” At Cutter’s blank look and my somewhat suspicious one, Hart continued, his words only confirming my worst fears. “I’ll use the harpoon gun to fire a line across,” he said. “If I aim for the trees, I should be able to tangle it in the branches before wedging the gun on this side.”
Hart’s words didn’t fill me with confidence and I just stared at him for a moment before finding my voice. “And how do you expect me to cross?” I noticed him scowl, although I couldn’t tell if it was at my question or the disbelief clear in my voice.
Hart looked thoughtful for a moment before he gave a sharp nod. “I’ll have to rig up a harness for you. Nick too. There should be something in the boot I can use.”
“Your confidence inspires us all,” I murmured, earning myself a chuckle from Cutter.
“Do you have a better idea?” Hart demanded.
I didn't so I shook my head and sighed. “Not at all, Dr Hart, please do continue.” I watched, curiosity despite my doubts, as Hart wandered up and down the riverbank and peered across, glancing occasionally at the trees on our side of the river. “Hart?”
“I do know what I’m doing, Lester,” Hart almost growled back at me.
“Excellent,” I replied. “But please remember we’re running out of time.”
Hart shot me a look before nodding. “This looks as good as any,” he muttered, once more filling me with confidence, before he aimed and fired. I watched the harpoon lance through the air to clatter amongst the branches of a tree. I held my breath when Hart tugged on the line, hoping that the harpoon didn’t slip free, for I had no idea if Hart would be able to reel it back in and try again.
“Got ya!” Hart crowed when the line held, no matter how much he tugged on it and he turned victorious eyes on me.
“Well done, Hart,” I murmured, before bursting his bubble by adding, “But we’re not across yet.”
Hart sobered before nodding. “Give me a moment,” he said as he wound some of the line around a tree and wedging the harpoon gun in firmly.
***
It took far less time than I wanted, even if I knew it was longer than we could afford to waste, for Hart to create his harness. It was a ramshackle affair constructed out of the webbing straps used to secure tranquillised animals for transport and I eyed it with distaste. I couldn’t help but ask, “Is it safe?”
Hart gave it several sharp tugs before declaring, “Seems to be.”
Cutter chuckled, presumably at the look on my face, and I couldn’t resist. “After you, Professor.”
Hart shook his head as he picked up a second rope. “I need to secure a second line first, plus someone needs to help you on this side and off once you’re across.”
“Fine,” I muttered, eyeing both Hart’s contraption and the rapidly flowing river with distaste. “But this had better work.”
“If it doesn’t, you can tell me so,” Hart shot back. “Providing you do it quickly.” He grinned before showing Cutter and I how to get into the harness and attach it to the rope. “OK?”
“No,” I said before meeting his gaze. “But we have no other choice, do we?”
“No,” Hart agreed. I watched as he wrapped a second rope around a large tree before tying it off. “Remember, you need to attach the harness to this line. It will hold better.”
“That fills me with so much confidence,” I replied, sobering when I saw the worry on Cutter’s face as he watched Hart swing onto the rope, the second rope trailing in the river as he began his crossing. I mused that the end of the world had one positive outcome in that it had made these two oblivious fools realise their mutual attraction.
My attention returned to the river at Cutter’s gasp and I quickly realised what had happened. Hart’s grip must have slipped for he was hanging onto the rope with only his legs, his hands trailing in the swift flowing water. I watched as he flexed his torso in an attempt to regain his grip and I dragged my thoughts away from his toned body and to the harpoon, hoping it held under Hart’s exertions. I gasped when the harpoon pulled free from some of the branches, sending Hart dangerously close to submersion in the river. I let out a breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding when the harpoon caught once more. I returned my attention to Hart, smiling when I realised he had regained his grip and was now moving swiftly hand over hand, even if he was still, in my opinion, hanging precariously upside down from the rope.
Cutter almost slumped to his knees when Hart’s feet touched the sodden ground on the other side of the river and I knew without a doubt that they had kissed and made up and I really didn’t want to think about that, not only was I not a voyeur but it brought back memories of my own long-dead lover.
“Ready?” Cutter asked and I had to wonder how long I’d been lost in my bitter-sweet memories when he gently shook my shoulder and repeated, “James? Are you OK?” I shook my head to scatter those memories and found myself staring into Cutter’s eyes when he lifted my chin. “James?”
I took a deep, somewhat shaky breath and nodded. “Just wool-gathering,” I murmured when I saw the concern in his eyes. I closed my own eyes when I saw the sudden understanding in his gaze, cursing when the professor had become so observant.
“Come on, James,” Cutter said, thankfully deciding discretion was a good idea for once, and helped me to stand up.
I gripped the second rope while Cutter snapped the carabiner onto it, and wondered how the hell I was supposed to do this. As it was, I gave a mostly suppressed yelp when Cutter grabbed one of my legs. “Unhand me, Cutter!”
“Can you get your leg over without my help?” Cutter said before blushing furiously.
I admit I couldn’t help but chuckle at his unfortunately comment. “I’m perfectly capable of doing so, Cutter,” I informed him haughtily, although I found myself unable to resist seeing how much he would blush and added, “However, that is with my lover, not a rope.” Cutter just stared at me, his mouth open as he turned beet-red and I felt a grin tug at my lips before I laughed, clutching at my chest as it bloody hurt to do so, no matter how much I… no, looking at Cutter as the man laughed, how much we needed it.
“I don’t want to know,” Cutter muttered, regaining control of his laughter if not his blushing, and raised an eyebrow at me. “Now, do you need me to help?”
I sobered as well, especially when I heard Hart shouting at us to get a move on. “If you would be so kind, Professor.” It bloody hurt and I took several seconds to regain my composure once I had my legs wrapped around the rope. I hoped I didn’t look too undignified as I hung upside down from the rope, dangling in the harness Hart had made.
“James?” Cutter’s voice cut through my musings. “Are you ready?”
I frowned at him before I felt a tug and realised Hart planned to haul me over like a sack of potatoes. I might be injured, I might not be sure how much I could help or even if I could, but I’d be damned before I didn’t try. I winced when I reached up for the rope and hauled on it, moving myself a scant inch and gasping as that action sent pain through my body.
Nick’s grasped my arm, untangling my fingers from the rope. “Let Stephen do it, James.” When I hesitated, Nick added, “Please, James.”
I sighed before reluctantly nodding, I knew I’d be no use to them or myself if I passed out midway. I forced the fingers of my other hand to let go of the rope, although I grasped the harness instead, needing to hold on to something and felt Cutter squeeze my arm. “Hart!” He bellowed, almost making me hiss as I jumped. “We’re good to go.”
I felt myself tugged forward a foot or so before I stopped, I frowned before moving another foot and realised that Hart needed to change his grip on the rope between pulls. Without needing to concentrate on dragging myself across I found my attention drawn to the raging torrent beneath my head and swallowed hard as I watched a log float straight towards me.
I heard Cutter yell out a warning to Hart and then I was yanked forward, gasping as my chest ached from the sudden jolt and feeling the log brush against me. The urge to grab the rope and help was almost overwhelming but I knew I’d be more of a hindrance than a help.
Still, I was exhausted by the time I reached the other side of the river and only got out of the harness with Hart’s help. I could barely stand as the adrenalin rush faded and it was only Hart’s arms which stopped me collapsing unceremoniously to the ground. As it was, I felt him ease me against a tree and I was so grateful of being able to rest that I didn’t even complain about the sodden ground ruining my suit. He pressed a bottle of water into my shaking hands, ordering me to sip it slowly while he helped Cutter across. I took the vastly shorter time it took Cutter to make it over to regain my breath and to consider our options.
“Rest time's over, Lester,” Cutter told me as he grabbed my arm to haul me to my feet. “Time to go.”
I shook my head and resisted his pull.
“James?” Cutter said concerned as he dropped to his knees beside me. “Stephen!”
Hart joined us and I hissed as he checked my dressings once more. “We can rest when we’re through the anomaly.”
I shook my head. “Leave me here.”
“Lester?”
“I’ll just slow you down,” I informed them. “Especially if we meet something big and nasty with teeth.”
“I’m not leaving you here,” Cutter declared.
I glared at him. “I would hope not.” I watched him relax until I added, “There’s a cottage over there that looks adequate.”
“I said we’re not leaving you here,” Cutter repeated.
“Give up, Lester, you know how stubborn Nick is,” Hart chipped in, earning himself a glare from Cutter.
“You have to stop the Predators and I’ll only slow you down,” I repeated, trying to get them to understand. “That’s the only thing that matters.”
Hart snorted. “And you call me a martyr.”
“I call you an idiotic martyr.” In my opinion, Hart was. I was making a logical choice when I was out of options, Hart wouldn’t even have considered any other possibility before sacrificing himself. “I’m making the call for the good of the mission.”
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4