X Marks the Spot

17 - Helpless

"Shit!"

Grayson bolted down the stairs of the house as Nolan casually strolled up to the door. Grayson heard the key turn in the lock.

In that moment, he had to make a choice. He could either run for the broken window and risk being spotted by Nolan, or hide and wait for him to go upstairs. Grayson ducked down behind the sofa a millisecond before Martin Nolan opened the door. He didn't notice anything different and was clearly unaware of Grayson's presence.

Justin was right, he thought with despair, trying to breathe as quietly as physically possible. Infiltrating a factory was not risky - THIS was risky.

If things weren't bad enough already, Grayson decided to look over the top of the sofa to see what was going on. Nolan didn't see him, which was good - what was not good was the gun he had lay on the coffee table.

I should have just ran...

Grayson didn't have to look anymore; he could hear Nolan's footsteps getting closer and closer to him. Any second now he would see him, pick up the gun and shoot him. Or strangle him with his bare hands. Grayson prepared himself for the worst with another silent breath as Nolan approached the sofa.

To Grayson's surprise, he sat on the sofa and turned on the television.

Okay, he thought, okay, okay, okay. Everything's okay. He doesn't know you're here. Just wait it out. He's bound to leave the room at some point.

Grayson couldn't tell himself anything else for the next two hours. He hadn't moved from where he was hidden, and Nolan hadn't moved from the sofa. He was hungry and aching all over from sitting there for so long, but he would rather be hungry and aching than dead.

Surely he won't sit here for much longer... I wish Justin was here... Or anybody else, really...

Then, miraculously, there was a knock on the door. Nolan finally stood up, picking up the gun and putting it in his back pocket. Grayson gulped nervously as Nolan opened the door. Grayson looked over the top of the sofa again to see who was at the door and could have laughed with relief.

"Hello," Justin said, his eyes darting nervously around what he could see of the interior of the house. "I'm from the - the National Association for the... Prevention of Heart Disease."

While Nolan was distracted, Grayson started to sneak towards the broken window. He couldn't run and risk Nolan hearing him, and Justin was doing a good job of keeping him busy. Nolan needn't known he'd even been there, but there was an additional risk: now Nolan had his gun in his pocket, Grayson couldn't rely on the second-long delay it would take him to pick up the gun from where it had been originally.

"So... do you think you would be... interested? In donating to our cause?"

"No thanks." Nolan finally shut the door and turned around just as Grayson approached the window.

"What the -"

Grayson didn't hear the end of his exclamation due to the sound of the bullet fired from the gun. He'd never felt such an intense combination of pain, fear and adrenaline as it hit him and blood instantly began to cascade from the wound. He fell to his knees, landing on tiny shards of glass from the window, and the one thought in his mind repeated itself thousands of times in just a fraction of a second as though he wasn't even human for a moment; it was almost automatic. The only thought he had: 'GET OUT'. The thought merged with his swearing and screams of pain, and he could barely tell the difference between what was actually happening and what was in his mind.

After what felt like hours - days, even - of crawling through the window, trying to ignore the agony that was somehow both excruciating and numbing, he managed to pull himself to his feet.

As he scurried away, he heard Nolan's heavy footsteps and a mocking cry of "Run, Forrest, run!" He lumbered past the house and the driveway, finally approaching his car and sitting in the passenger seat, Nolan following in strides.

Justin was already sat behind the wheel, looking at Grayson through wide brown eyes with shock at his state as he could feel his consciousness slipping away. It quickly returned to him, however, as he saw Nolan pursuing him with the gun in one hand, the other curled into a fist. He turned to Justin who gave him a panicked look.

"DRIVE!"

"I CAN'T DRIVE!"

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO DRIVE?"

"DOES IT LOOK LIKE I KNOW HOW TO FUCKING DRIVE?!"

They were interrupted by another gunshot and Grayson's window shattered into a million minute fragments. Grayson's blinding dread reached such a height that he was almost as afraid of what he was feeling as he was by the threat of Nolan and their imminent deaths. He began to feel guilty too; if Nolan caught him now, there wasn't a doubt in Grayson's mind that he'd kill Justin too. 

"HOLY SHIT!" Justin exclaimed, as the window smashed.

"Just step on the pedal, IT'S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE!"

Justin complied instantly, and they escaped with moments to spare. They drove away from Crimson Avenue without looking back.

***

"I think we're safe," Justin said, glancing at the rear view mirror. "But you should probably take the wheel."

Grayson didn't reply. Justin looked at him and he was slumped in his seat.

He reached over to him and shook him gently. "Grayson?"

Justin withdrew his hand when he realised it was soaked in blood and stopped the car immediately in the middle of the road. There were no other cars around, but that wasn't Justin's priority. "Shit - Grayson! Come on, you need to wake up -"

Had it all been for nothing? He'd felt fear when Nolan had come after them, but this was somehow even more intense, and he knew why: when Nolan had wanted their blood, he was frightened, but he wasn't alone. For the few moments he'd had alone during the investigation, the thought of Grayson and their efforts to find the killer had been in the back of his mind. Now there was nothing but fear, loneliness and the bleak thought that Grayson wouldn't wake up.

He tried to remove those thoughts from his mind. "It'll be fine..." He wasn't sure if he was talking more to himself or Grayson's unconscious figure in the passenger seat. "Everything's gonna be okay..."