String Theory

Chapter 5

Without a response, 018 storms towards Peter, closing the distance between them in seconds. Peter turns on his heel, feet slipping on the tile as he tries to scramble away, but 018 grabs a fistful of his shirt and slams his back into the wall. His attacker is inches from his face, glaring, and terror clamps Peter's throat shut. This is what Galahad was worried about, wasn't it? Getting sniped? Peter scrabbles uselessly against the wall, trying to thrash free of 018's grip. "Help!" he screams, voice raw with terror. "Somebody help me!"

His attacker draws his fist back and punches Peter in the face, harder than any normal human could. It's disorienting, and Peter's struggling dies down as he gives a little cry of pain. The cut he'd received a few days ago reopens on contact. Blood's decorating his face now. 018 hits him again, and Peter's head snaps back, slamming into the wall. He goes still, struggling to blink the spots out of his vision. In a fluid motion, 018 shifts his hand out of the way and clamps something cold around Peter's neck. Peter struggles to inhale, and his eyes fly wide with panic. When he twists his neck, attempting to loosen it, sharp bits of metal dig into his skin and draw blood, discouraging movement.

"What the hell," he strains, shoving lightly at 018's arms. His voice is choked by the metal at his throat. "What's— why—-"

018 doesn't answer, and Peter realizes, horrified, that it's a collar, meant to keep him from struggling. 018 busies himself with cuffing Peter's wrists and clipping a leash from the handcuffs to the collar. Peter's too disoriented to fight back, but he gives a whimper of protest at the cuffs – they're digging into the wound on his right hand. 018 turns and moves towards the exit, and gives the leash a hard yank. This draws Peter's cuffed hands closer to his neck, and puts pressure on his throat. Peter stumbles forward, colliding with him, and 018 shoves him with an elbow, throwing a sharp glare over his shoulder. He wraps the leash around his knuckles a few times and displays the gun to Peter, then signs, "Fuck up again, and I won't be taking you alive."

Peter nods quickly in understanding. "Sorry," he wheezes, and then winces. Why the hell are you apologizing? He's kidnapping you! The collar's too tight; he's laboring for breath, and his eyes are starting to water. 018 leads him down the hallway and towards the front of the compound. Peter staggers occasionally as he walks, dizzy from lack of oxygen - his face is flushing pink. Every time he coughs, the metal spikes inside the collar dig further into his skin, so he contents himself to stay dizzy, breathing raggedly. Peter doesn't process stepping outside into the drizzling rain, but his shirt is soaked now, and 018 is taking him towards the unmarked silver car that's parked in the gravel.

He briefly processes that he needs to stall, he shouldn't get into the car with this man, that he'll die if he does, but Peter's vision is already starting to fade. He has trouble putting one foot in front of the other, and he stumbles. His leg buckles, and he drops to his knees in the mud, coughing roughly.

018 comes to a halt when he feels resistance on the leash, and turns to glare at Peter. He jerks it harshly, but Peter is limp, eyes glazed with pain. The rain is dribbling down Peter's face. He can't breathe, and black is tinting the edges of his vision. 018 raises his hand to strike him, and Peter flinches in preparation for the hit, but it never lands.

When Peter looks up at 018, he's gazing down the road. The whine of an engine can be heard in the distance, and a white rental car peels around the corner, kicking up spackle on the gravel road. The throttle's wide open, engine roaring, and the driver doesn't seem to be altering course - they're headed straight for the two of them. Peter mumbles his concern, shifts, trying to get out of the way, but 018 doesn't budge. At the very last second, the driver yanks the wheel, fishtailing the rear of the car and throwing up a shower of mud. The metal of the frame screams with inertia, and the car skids to a halt. The back door slams open.