Untouched (Untouched #1)(Old Work)

Chapter One

Breaking into a gander that was caught somewhere between a limp and a run, the newly identified safe haven began to loom in front of her. It seemed so close but yet, it remained so far. After what seemed like an eternity, she burst out from the mouth of the alleyway and into the bustling space where - by quick glance - at least two hundred people were gathered. They were pointing and gasping, excited about something which remained blocked out of Ellen's view. Feeling vulnerable, she jostled her way into the sea of people, taking care not to unintentionally elbow someone.

Handbags and umbrellas smacked her all over her body, and pointed corners pushed into her skin as if she was being tenderized for tonight's dinner. Rubbing the angry red patches that came to be on her forehead and arms, she emerged on the other side of the crowd.

Striped yellow-and-black barricades were placed in a makeshift ring to prevent onlookers from getting too close. But, like everyone knew, this didn't stop determined journalists from attempting to jump over them and grab a perfectly angled photograph. Attentive police officers, in the know of their tactics from experience, seized their arms and steered them back behind the barriers.

Do it again, they warned, and you will be taking photos from the inside of a police cruiser. Final warning buddy.

In this city, they were much like leeches. They were ruthless, ignorant, and had a blatant disregard for instructions if it meant that they got the best material out of all media outlets. Many of them had already cost innocent people's livelihoods and ruined countless reputations. This was all undeserved. It was only six months ago that a sorry excuse of a journalist was jailed for assaulting a child who had got in the way of unfolding news. The judges had bought the book down heavily on him for hitting the child with a camera.

Not only once.

Twice.

Several emergency vehicles - police, fire and paramedics - were parked strategically to try and block as much of the view from civilians as possible. The bodies of the vehicles guarded most of the scene, but not all of it. Their presence on site would explain the wailing sirens she heard earlier. These were now silenced although the flashing lights still danced in their clear plastic shells. Each officer on the scene seemed to take no notice of the rain as they were locked onto the situation at hand. They were not only great at their careers, but they were also passionate about their community.

Ellen shifted herself to the left by a few meters and then peered between the gap that was made by the bonnet of a cruiser and the back of emergency response paramedic SUV. There were two sedans, now fused together by what appeared to be a head-on collision. The airbags of each vehicle had deployed and from what she could see, the drivers had escaped or had been removed by the jaws-of-life. The hydraulic machine lay close by, having saved more lives. Oils were leaking from busted lines, colourful from reflecting the cloud-curtained sunlight.

She adjusted herself again slightly, eager to see more. She felt herself dry retching at the sight of what her eyes and mind were registering. There was someone jammed between the two cars that had collided, his body flayed in grotesque angles that were well outside of what a human, a contortionist even, was capable of achieving.

His face was frozen and portrayed no emotion, not even pain.

His forehead was battered, bruised and bleeding from where it had intercepted with the car. Other parts of his body were mutilated almost beyond recognition. The rain diluted and washed away the leaking blood into a nearby gutter.

Two police officers were now unraveling a black piece of plastic and holding it up as two others were preparing to fasten it to make a temporary screen. For those that had seen it, it was too little, too late. This scene would be burned into the back of their minds and their eyes for the rest of their lives.