“Can you just stop for a minute?!” Jace exclaims as I begin to frantically throw everything we could use in the old duffle bag that was in the car.
“There’s no time for me to sit here and try and explain to an imbecile like you.” I respond throwing the box of bullets in the bag along with the gun that was in the back seat. I rummaged through the glove box and pulled out a knife. I ran my hand along the dash board in front of me until I found the spot of it that was softer than it should be, before slamming my fist into it causing a great big hole to appear in it.
“What the hell are you doing?!” Jace shrieks. I put my hand in the hole I had just made and pulled out the small semi automatic that had been stashed in there when I first got the car. I look at Jace and gesture towards the gun, giving him on hard smile as an answer to his question.
Once I thought I had everything I needed stuffed in the duffle bag, I opened the car door and began to get out.
“Out of the car we gotta go now.” I order him. I see the look of frustration through the window of the car, as well as the rude word he muttered as he gets out of the car and slams the door forcefully.
“Where exactly are we going?” He asks “Or do you just want to tie a leash around my neck and drag me there?”
I narrow my eyes at him “Believe me Dixon, right now the last thing you want is for me to tie anything around your neck.”
He rolls his eyes at my subtle death threat. He opens his mouth to give me his comeback, but whatever he was about to say was cut short as a car engine in the distance caught our attention. We both turn our heads to see the black Audi in sight, getting closer by the second.
I turn back to Jace “Just shut up and run.”
For once, he didn’t make a snide reply and just did as I asked. We both took off and ran down off the back road and into the woods that surrounded it. The duffle bag was heavy on my back but I made sure it didn’t stop my speed, and we both dodged the trees as we never lost pace.
“What’s the plan, run home?” Only Jace would manage to sound sarcastic even though he is still sprinting.
“Run to shelter.” I duck from a branch, and seconds later my foot gets caught on some sort of plant and I find myself tumbling to the floor. I hold the scream of pain in as I fall, my knees scraping on the rough rocks that were on the floor and against the cut on my thigh that was still bleeding pretty bad. I rolled on my back and nursed my leg, scrunching my eyes from the pain.
I could hear the voice of the dealers shouting getting closer, and I suddenly realised the pain in my leg was too much. Running was not an option any more, and to be honest I had to get the cut on my thigh cleaned out soon or the dirt from the floor was going to cause a serious infection.
Great, just what I need...to have my leg amputated.
Bet Ed would love that.
“Put your arm around my shoulder.” Jace’s voice cut through my thoughts and I suddenly realised he had stopped running when I had. I actually thought he would have ran on for a split second, saving himself and going back to Chris to let him know what happened. But he didn’t.
I looked up at his face crouched on the floor next to me. He reached for the duffle bag I had dropped when I fell and slung the strap on his shoulder, before sliding one of his hands under my legs and the other on my lower back.
My eyes refused to leave his face as I saw the determination as he lifted me off the ground, carrying me as he attempted to keep running through the woods. I couldn’t find words to say to him as I noticed the trees and leaves fly past us, and considering he was carrying me he was keeping a pretty good pace up.
But not fast enough.
“Jace just put me down and go back to Chris.” I finally find my voice.
His eyes don’t meet mine and he just concentrates on the direction he is running “Not a chance in hell.”
“We’re not going to outrun the-”
“Well we won’t then.” His voice cuts me off “You said run to shelter right?”
I nod wearingly, before attempting to talk him out of this again “You honestly-”
“The woods are almost out, and look I can already see shelter.” He doesn’t even give me a chance to try and change his mind, and just nods ahead of him. I resist the urge to give him the warm smile I was dying to release at what had just happened between us, and turned my head to see an old cemetery in front of us. Behind the cemetery was an old church, which looked like it had not had any praying going on in it since Hitler died.
This was our shelter?
A house of God that looked older than the freaking lord himself?
Jace ran though the cemetery, never losing his grip on me once. I winced as I looked at the gash on my leg. I needed to get something on that and soon. I looked at the woods and saw that the dealers were not in tow anymore, meaning we must have lost them on the way.
How on earth we managed to do that with Jace carrying me the majority of the way still baffles me.
We made it to the front door of the church where I expected Jace to set me down so we could break in and start barricading doors, but that did not happen. When we reached the old wooden door, Jace kicked it open with impressive force, still clinging on to me and walking in without so much as a flinch.
I looked around the church. The inside didn’t look any better than the outside. There was a long aisle in the middle like any church had and seats either side of it. The alter at the front had so much dust on it I was visible from the other side of the room. Clearly, this church was well and truly abandoned.
“We need to get to the basement.” I tell Jace “It’s safer there as we can lock ourselves in. And plus supplies are always kept in the basement.”
Jace scoffs “Been to many churches?”
“No, I’m not exactly a believer. I just know supplies are always found in basements.” I couldn’t help the next remark “If you had common sense, you would know that too.”
He glares at me, disbelief clear in his face at my comment. His mouth opens and closes a few times as he tries to find words to say “I just saved your life and carried you for about a mile and your still taking shots at me?”
The hard mask fell on my face and I shrugged “I would have figured something out.”
“The only thing you would have figured out is how much a bullet to the head would hurt cos you would have been killed Faith.”
His teeth were gritted at my ungratefulness, but I noticed he had taken in what I said because he was clearly trying to find the basement as he carried on walking.
With me still in his arms.
Down the aisle.
I notice his gaze turn a little softer as he too must have realised the irony of this.
“Not exactly how I imagined us walking down the aisle, but I’ll take it.” His voice was so low I only heard it because I was so close to his mouth. I found my stomach jolting a little at his comment, but I pushed all thoughts of sweetness and romance to the back of my head.
We were in an abandoned church being chased by dealers who wanted to kill us; there was nothing romantic about this.
Jace stopped at a door at the far back of the church and set me down gently, a lot more gently that I was expecting. Without even looking at me he turned to the door and opened it, looking down at a set of stairs that clearly led to the basement. He opened the door fully and gestured for me to walk through.
“Ladies first.” He gave me a smile that was so bitter I wanted to slap it off him.
“Dixon I’m more man than you will ever be.” I reply as I walk past him and through the door frame.
“I should probably rephrase my previous statement...” He humoured “...cold hearted bitches first.”
I clenched my fists as I kept my back to him, knowing very well I probably deserved that as I had not even said thank you to him for saving my life back in the woods, but my anger was not quite so rational. I stood on the first few steps and turned to look at the lock on the door.
“Looks like the church may be a fragile piece of shit, but who ever built it was clearly a big fan of security.” I comment as I look at the big metal lock and bolts on the inside of the wooden door. Talk about lucky for us right now. It was honestly like someone had known we were coming, because the key was even in the lock.
“Get down there and I’ll lock it behind us.” Jace nods to the bottom of the stairs.
“You sure you can manage that or are you going to sell the key for an inflatable doll and some hummus?” I ask sarcastically, causing a hateful glare to be thrown in my direction.
I resist the urge to laugh and walk down the stairs, hearing the door shutting and the bolts begin to click together as Jace barricades us down here. I groan as I suddenly realise I don’t know how long we would have to stay down here, and me and Jace were not on what you would call good terms. He was clearly pissed at me about the whole Drake thing, and I still had an undying urge to knock him out.
I scanned my eyes around the room as I took in the basement, which was surprisingly big. I mean it was probably bigger than the gym at home. The walls were lined up with old tables and chairs, piled high with dusty boxes that were filled with candles, books, toys, cutlery etc. As I looked around, I was actually surprised to see how much freaking stuff was down here. It must be like a storage space or something, because there was even an old camp bed in the corner.
I suddenly felt tired as I looked at it, but realised there was no way I was sleeping on that. It barely looked able to stand with nothing on it, let alone if I sprawled myself on it. The throbbing in my leg knocked me back to reality and reminded me that I needed some serious first AID right now. I walked over to one of the tables and began rummaging through the boxes to see if there was anything I could use.
“Holy shit! Who ever owned this church clearly forgot to take some of this with him.” Jace commented as he took in the basement, before his eyes widened as he realised what he said “I mean Holy Christ...No I mean Holy Jesus...No, Holy...” he stammered as he tried to find anything that would be better than his curse in the house of God, before he sighed and clearly gave up “Ah fuck it, I was always a shit Christian anyway.”
The corner of my lip twitched but I held back the smile.
I turn to look through some more boxes, and freeze as I spot the huge wooden confession box in the far corner of the room. The wood looks old, and there are two doors on it. Each door has a cross on it and the door which must be the one where the priest sits in had other carvings on it which must be some more religious symbols. I was never much of a church goer so I could not tell you what they mean.
I stare at it quizzically, not hearing as Jace comes to stand beside me.
“What the hell is that doing down here?” Jace almost laughs, the disbelief clear in his voice.
“I have no idea.” My voice comes out low. Why would a confession box be down in the basement instead of upstairs? To be honest it was making me feel a little uncomfortable for some reason.
“Care to confess your sins?” Jace humours, giving me a twisted smile as he gestures his head towards the box. I shift at his comment, and I can see the surprise in his face at my reaction.
In all honesty, the idea of confessing my sins scared the living crap out of me. I had a few more sins in the bag than the average person, and even the big man upstairs would not find it in his heart to forgive half the stuff I have done.
“We don’t have that much time.” It was meant to come out as a joke, but the realisation of just how true that comment was hit me as soon as the words left my mouth.
I carried on rummaging through the boxes ignoring Jace’s curious eyes boring into me until I found what looked like a wash bag. I blew some of the dust off it and zipped it open, letting the smile fall on my face as I saw what was in there. A sewing kit.
I placed the sewing kit on the side and walked over to the other side of the room, spending another 10 minutes rummaging through for anything else we could use. The only sounds around the room were the ruffling of boxes and clattering of objects as we dug through them. After a further 5 minutes Jace’s voice, surprise surprise, broke the silence.
“Jackpot!” He shouts, and I turn to find him grinning from ear to ear holding up a bottle of Brandy. “Clearly the reverend of this church was not abiding by the rules of the big man upstairs. Fair play to the man.” Jace twists the lid of the bottle, pulling it off and holds the bottle up in a toast “To God!”
I walk over and snatch the bottle away from his mouth as he was mid drink, causing him to spill some of it down the front of his top. “Oi woman, what are you doing?!”
“This is not getting wasted on something as futile as getting you wasted.” I simply tell him, grabbing the sewing kit and one of the small wooden candle sticks off one of the tables. I can feel Jace’s eyes follow my every move as I sit myself down on the concrete floor, keeping one leg flat in front of me while raising the knee of the other one so the gash on my thigh is easier to reach.
I open the bag of the sewing kit and grab one of the needles, pouring some of the Brandy on to it to sterilise it. Once I do that, I thread some of the thin cotton through the needle, getting it just right. I place needle next to me and pick up the Brandy bottle and hold it over the gash on my thigh. I grab the wooden candle stick, taking a few deep breaths to prepare myself before placing the candle stick in my mouth and biting down on it.
I could basically hear Jace’s eye pop out of his skull “Faith, please don’t tell me your-”
I tip the brandy bottle and let the liquid pour on the cut, my screams of pure agony being muffled by the wooden candle stick. My eyes scrunch together from the burning pain, and my teeth almost shatter on the wood as I bite down so hard. My breath picks up from the pain and at the dread as I realise I wasn’t finished quite yet.
A few more deep breaths through my nose as I brace myself before I pour some more of the alcohol onto the cut, screaming against the candle stick again as my leg feels like it is being scolded. I can feel my eyes water from the pain.
After a few minutes of gritting my teeth on the wood, I steady my rapid breath down a little and look down at the cut. The dirt is gone and judging by how much the bleeding has lessened from before I can tell that the Brandy has done its job. I knew there was no risk of infection anymore considering my leg had more alcohol in it right now than Lindsay Lohan.
My chest is still rising up and down heavily, and I spit the candle stick onto the floor and place the bottle of Brandy next to me to pick up the needle and thread. I keep my eyes planted on my leg and ignore Jace, who I could sense stood a few feet away with his eyes still wide open in shock at my actions.
A few more deep breaths of encouragement from myself, and I begin to stitch the cut up. As soon as the needle goes through my skin, the urge to scream out in pain is overwhelming but I contain it just like I have been taught to do. Screaming when the alcohol came in contact with my cut was futile as it was, even if it was muffled by the candle stick. I’ve been taught to do this type of shit in extreme situations which meant that my screams of agony were not allowed because they would alert the enemy.
Hold it in...
And that is exactly what I did. I held the screams of anguish and the tears of pain in as I continue to sew my skin together, because again that is what I’ve been taught to do.
That’s how I’ve been trained. And even now when I knew there was no one on the other side of the door and I could quite easily let go, shaking the training off seemed near enough impossible. I couldn’t ignore my training.
I finished stitching myself up and knotted the thread at the end, tossing the needle aside.
I feel a sudden presence next to me and the hair being brushed from my face. The pain and pressure of sewing the cut up caused small sweat beads to appear on my forehead. Oh how lovely. I turn and meet the sympathetic eyes of Jace, who was crouched down looking at me with a mixture of shock and...Admiration?
“How you managed to do that without so much as a ‘fuck my life’ I will never know sweetheart.” He gives me that smile that made me more lightheaded than the loss of blood from being dragged through glass. With that smile still at his mouth, he leans his face forward and places a kiss on my forehead. I could tell it was a way for him to comfort me, as if I needed the comforting in the first place.
I suddenly realised that the only thing that was endangering me from going against my training and everything I have ever been taught as an agent was not any injury I could ever face, but it was the 6ft, dorito loving moron currently smiling at me.
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