Nandita To Nandini
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Light And DarkChapter 6 free porn video
This gun's for hire
even if we're just dancing in the dark
Dancing in the Dark, Bruce Springsteen
Godalming, Surrey, November 24th
Caerys paused, in the midst of the mayhem, stunned as Gavin slumped against the wall. Eyes wide, staring, glaring, his gaze pierced into her head as he mouthed to her.
"What?" she whispered, barely flinching as a second bullet caught him in the thigh, spraying a gout of blood over her that shook Sophie from her shock and into action.
"Merde!" she half-screamed, half-cried, dragging on the taller woman's arm as she tried to get around the corner and out of the line of fire.
"Go!" Gavin soundlessly spoke again, and then his legs gave out beneath him, and he slumped to the floor, the glaring eyes glazing over as she watched.
"Oh god..." she whispered, relaxing, letting herself be dragged off by Sophie's intensity. Slipping out of sight, she finally managed to tear her eyes away from him, and the pair of the them broke into a run, heading for the growing sounds of the main street. Police cars were sweeping in from both ends of the village, as panicked locals scurried away from anything that moved, and the pair of them were quickly lost in the throng as a light drizzle started to fall. Free of the image of Gavin, slumped at the foot of the wall, Caerys found herself taking the lead, pushing through the crowd towards the little bridge — noticing the bodies of the fallen had already gone, until they got to the fallen motorbike, now leant up against the wall.
"Get on." She hissed to Sophie, as the police started to get the crowd to settle.
"Where are we going to go?" Sophie asked, quietly, a defeated tone in her voice.
"Away from here. Wherever. Does it matter? They're here, and we don't... we don't have Gavin's protection any more." Sophie paled even further at that, forcing Caerys to reach out an arm and hold her up. "Come on, girl, don't lose it now..."
Steeling herself, Sophie drew a shuddering breath, nodded, and slipped onto the back of the bike as she turned it around on the narrow bridge and headed into the small village as the rain got heavier.
"Over there!" someone shouted behind them, and Caerys gunned the engine as she cursed, sensing the pursuit start.
"They're behind us..." Sophie moaned, barely audible over the wind and the engine. Caerys nodded, and braked hard, turning tightly into the bend to take them back towards the village. Shooting through at speed behind the crowd, she sensed the pursuit break off — not wanting the publicity, she figured — and start to circle slowly around the town to keep track of her.
"We've lost the amulet!" she shouted over her shoulder.
"So?"
"So they can follow us again..." Caerys let that reality settle, and eased off on the throttle a little as the lanes became narrower and tighter, trying to pick her way as randomly as she could. Free of the immediate pursuit, she couldn't shake the image of Gavin slumped against the wall out of her mind, and it took Sophie's strangled scream to get her to turn aside as a dark, black-windowed car pulled out ahead of them, cutting off their route.
The bike wasn't designed for off-road use, and neither of them were particularly good riders, but the paths between the trees were well-used and free of the worst of the detritus of untouched lands. Their pace slowed, dramatically, and Caerys began to get flashes of movement to either side; low, loping figures that alternated between running upright and knuckling along on all fours at a prodigious rate.
More and more drops of rain spattered through the trees, disrupting even the little sense of sound that they had, and Caerys realised she was slowly being herded back the way she'd come, towards the black car.
Suddenly, in the midst of a clearing, she was forced to brake hard and skid the bike to a halt in the midst of a semi-circle of hunched, twisted parodies of humanity — and stood in the midst of them, her father.
"Caerys." He smiled a humourless smile. "How nice to see you again." Behind her, the chasing circle closed in, filling the gaps in the trees, leaving her nowhere to run. Bulging with muscle, low-browed with pig-like eyes, they reminded her of Nadal, and she felt Sophie shiver behind her as she took in the scene as well before slowly stepping off the bike.
"And you brought lunch with you, too." Her father added. "How kind."
Munstead Heath, November 24th
Sophie slipped hesitantly from the bike, slowly eyeing the bulky figures gathered around the clearing, not noticing the comparatively slight figure stood in front of her, at first.
"Ques-que c'est?" she wondered, aloud, nudging Caerys in the back, gently. "What are they?"
"Half-trolls." Caerys' father replied, with a jaunty air. "Vicious, bloody-minded, idiotic as a bible-belt trailer-park mechanic, but they can smell meat from miles away and they don't rest until they've eaten."
Sophie stepped out around Caerys, slowly, not wanting to startle anyone.
"What are we going to do?" she asked, and turned to Caerys when she didn't answer. The red-head, though, was bolt upright, face set, tears streaming down her face and her gaze distant. "Caerys, come on..." she tried to shake her out of it, but Caerys merely wobbled under the pressure, and her father took a step forward.
"Seeing, Caerys?" He smirked. "It's a bit late for that, isn't it? You should have seen this coming, surely." He laughed at his own joke — certainly it was beyond the grunting behemoths that surrounded them — and then let the laughter fade away.
"Did she tell you what she was getting you into?" he asked Sophie, stepping forward again, but she just shook her head and stepped back a little, then halted when she realised she couldn't leave Caerys alone with him. "Oh, how sweet." He laughed again, and began to approach for real as Caerys shook herself from whatever reverie she'd been in.
"At least," she threw up a warding hand, and her father slowed, "at least let me say goodbye?"
"I feel magnanimous." He allowed, after a moment's thought, stepping back. "Why not."
Caerys turned, wrapping her arms about Sophie's neck gently, and pulling her close, resting her forehead gently against the little scab that still sat between the doctor's eyebrows.
"Sophie, listen, please... trust me." She almost begged.
"What choice do I have?" she asked, darting her eyes sideways to look at what awaited them.
"Listen... Gavin's alive..." she whispered, and Sophie started, feeling Caerys strong grip hold her in place.
"Don't give it away... he's almost here. Do you trust me?" Sophie took a breath, shuddering gently, feeling tears welling again.
"What?"
"Do you trust me?"
"I... yes."
"Then hold on!" she almost shouted the last out loud, and dropped straight forward, baring the shorter figure of the French woman to the floor, as hell erupted around the clearing.
Munstead Heath, Surrey, November 24th
The rain dragged heavily at the shirt he wore, the pain radiating from his chest pulsing with each cold drop that snaked inside his collar, but he pushed on from tree to tree. Part of him was seeking to break up his profile against the natural surroundings, but he was pragmatic enough to admit that the support was more necessary than helpful.
His breath was coming hard and fast, the rain driving it out of the air before it could frost and give away his location, but he knew he still had the skill to evade the pursuit, even if he couldn't rely on pure speed. Ahead of him, large figures bulldozed their way through the undergrowth, giving him a reliable idea of where they were, and behind him he could see the nearest of his pursuers closing in, threatening to catch him between the hammer and the anvil.
Bereft of bullets, and with his sword still in the boot of the car he'd left back amidst the crowded village, all he had in the way of offense was the heavy knife he'd found dropped near him when he came round, but that left him with a few options — not good options, but he was on the back foot already.
Glancing behind himself to be sure the pursuit was, still, pursuing, Gavin pushed off from the tree and slipped across the path to close with the nearest two hulking guards of the clearing. Past them, by his bike, he could see Caerys and Sophie huddled together in the middle of the space where it would be difficult to reach them.
Pressing himself against the bole of the tree, he found himself breathing harder than he should be, clutching at a rib, and looking back to gauge the timing of things. With perhaps a minute and a half until the soldiers arrived, he shimmied up the nearest tree, and circled around through the branches as quietly as he could.
Below him, one of the brutish face turned to look up, and with his cover broken, he dropped heel first from the branch, driving down into the jutting, hooked nose with a crack of bone and a strangely high-pitched squeal of pain. A dozen pig-like eyes turned towards him as he rode the toppling figure to the floor, softening his landing with the bulky form beneath him, but feeling his knees buckle slightly anyway.
"Gavin!" Sophie squealed from the floor beside the bike, and then shots rang out from the far side of the clearing, punching into the distorted people around them.
"Turn and fight!" Caerys' father shouted to the slow-witted hulks, and they sprang out of the clearing, leaving the trio alone with the imposing figure who appeared unfazed by the gunfire. "Another friend of yours, Caerys? You have been busy."
"Afternoon." Gavin greeted him, standing straight and tall, ready on the balls of his feet as the slightly shorter man gave him an appraising eye-over.
"This is what you bring to defend yourself?" he mocked, Caerys, who slowly made her way to her feet, helping Sophie up.
"Yeah." She finally muttered, staring back at him, with a strength Gavin could see she didn't really feel. "This is who I've brought to defend myself."
"Very well." He was quick. The ten or fifteen feet between them disappeared in a blink as he launched himself — and the knife in his hand — at Caerys' chest.
Gavin, though, barely six feet away by the time he'd finished standing, got there first. His heavy-bladed knife pushed the lunge aside but he didn't try to stop the flying figure, merely placed a foot on his stomach and heaved him skyward, adding to his momentum and letting him land a dozen yards or so away, skidding across the grass.
"Run, damnit!" Gavin snapped at the women, as he stood up again, managing not to stumble with an effort of will, and turned to face the startled attacker.
"You're... hmmm." He smirked, gently. "You're not Marduk's, I know you're not one of mine. You must... Camael's, yes..."
"I'm mine." Gavin explained, quietly, privately thankful for the rest. Adrenaline was muting the pain from his chest, but it couldn't last, and he was walking the narrow line between being exhaustion and pain. "Just mine."
"I see." The smirk grew, and Gavin held himself in check as the urge came upon him to wipe it away. "Definitely Camael's, then. He always did love the illusion of free will."
"Whatever." Partially focussed on the discussion, Gavin had to frown at Caerys as she struggled to get back on the bike. "No, Caerys, they'll be able to track the..." he started, and her father leapt again. Tired, cold and slow, Gavin got in a partial block that pushed the knife down away from his chest, cutting into the soft tissue below his ribs instead with a burning pain. Twisting with the blow to minimise the damage, he was forced to striked downward with the butt of the knife in his hand, hearing a collar-bone crack as he did, and he watched the knife go skittering across the floor.
Even injured, he was still devastating, and as the taller man bent under the blow Gavin's knee rose to impact on his face, cracking his jaw, and he stumbled free as the forces outside the clearing began to intercept each other.
"Come on!" he grimaced to Sophie, tugging her behind him and motioning for Caerys to follow them as he stumbled a little on the uneven ground.
"How... you..." Sophie tried to phrase her question, but Gavin cut her off, ducking from tree to tree as the melee swirled around them.
"Later, Docto..." he cut off with a wince as a stray branch jabbed his side, and he bent to retrieve a rifle from a fallen soldier. "Go, over there." He pointed to a low fence on the other side of the path, and the two women hesitantly followed his direction as he covered them.
A soldier turned, hearing them, and Gavin unleashed two rounds into his stomach, feeling the gun jam after the second.
"Plastic piece of crap." He muttered, tossing the SA-80 away, and following across the path to join the women. "Over... head south..." he gasped, wheezing a little. "Back to the village... The car."
"Come here." Caerys reached for him, easily stepping inside his arm when he tried to brush her off, and slung an arm around his waist, making him hiss when she pulled too tightly.
"Fuck, woman, are you trying to kill me."
"Don't tempt me..." she whispered, but her heart wasn't really in it.
Munstead Heath, Surrey, November 24th
"How the hell is he even standing?" Caerys muttered, as Gavin leant up against a nearby tree, staring across the open ground to the back of the village, searching for danger in the tall grasses.
"I don't know." Sophie admitted, still trying to brush the blood from her fingers. She'd bandaged him as well as she could with the strips they'd torn from his shirt — it wouldn't last, but it kept him upright. She knew, though, that most men would be dead from those wounds, and the rest would be incapable of walking. "It's... it's like he's no more human than those... those..."
"Trolls." Caerys muttered, blinking rapidly, looking far away. "Damn it... trolls... GAVIN!" she turned, yelling, and he ducked instinctively as the blocky fist swung through the air above his head, tearing into the supple trunk of the tree with a splintering shock that toppled it to the floor.
Stepping back to gain space, Gavin favoured his injured side more than he felt the need to, inviting the attack, and then circled inside the hooked punch to crunch an elbow between the small, close-set eyes. It landed, but lacked the strength it should, torn muscles not reacting how he'd expected. The counter drove the wind from his lungs and left him on all fours a dozen feet away, gasping. The expected kick came towards his stomach and he rolled, not away from the strike but in towards it, over the top of the boot, trapping both legs and toppling the figure to the floor where Caerys appeared to batter it over the head with a branch.
Distracted, it looked to her, and Gavin drove his knife deep into its chest, twisting once or twice until the body shuddered, and he knew he'd hit the heart.
"We can't take much more of this." He whispered, flecks of blood on his lips as he spoke, and the two women struggled to help him to his feet. It took both of them to hold him up, and the three of them looked back nervously to where the sounds of gunfire and screaming were dying away.
"What do we do?" Sophie asked, and Gavin just gasped, unable to reply.
"We go for it." Caerys decided. "We stay here, we die, it's as simple as that. With the car — and the amulet back — we just need distance." Sophie nodded, without Caerys' faith in the jewellery, but without any other options, and strengthened her grip on Gavin as he wheezed and coughed up more traces of blood.
"Go!" Dashing across the broken terrain as best they could, Caerys quickly realised that Gavin wasn't slowing them particularly, but they still weren't travelling fast enough to evade the bulky figure that loped out of the tree-line. "How many of those fucking things are there?" she muttered, as Gavin dragged her arm from around him.
"Give me some room."
"You aren't going to fight that thing?" Caerys asked, incredulous. He eyed her, turning the knife around and offering her the hilt.
"Did you want to?"
"Oh, shit..."
"Be ready to run." He told her, as Sophie realised what was happening and tried to tug on his other arm.
"You can't do this, Gavin, you're hurt already."
"I'm hurt too much to run." He told her, gently, as the bulky figure slowed it's approach. "Go with Caerys... be ready to run."
The figure stopped, just out of range, and Caerys eased Sophie back away from him as he turned to face it. In the open space, with better light, he was able to get a good view of them for the first time. Easily eight feet tall, but hunched over so that the shoulder-blades were the highest point, the head was low-browed and primitive, small beady eyes staring out from below a jutting forehead. Overly long arms hung low with long, raking claws at the end, and corded, bunched muscle stretching tight over the twisted chest and stomach.
Deformed, twisted, adjusted, Gavin wasn't sure what the process was, but fundamentally, beneath it all, the skeletal and muscular structure looked human. It had strength and speed, he'd seen — so did he — but they hadn't shown wit or control, as yet, and in his condition those were Gavin's best weapons. Wanting to dictate how things went, he feinted to his left, and pretended to stumble — only just succeeding in making it a pretense as his knee threatened to buckle under the weight.
He lacked strength with his injuries, and as the predictable counter strike came in he instead relied on precision, stepping inside the strike and twisting, rolling the hulks own strength against it to apply pressure to the wrist until tendons and muscles in the forearm tore under the momentum. The now familiar high-pitched squeal of pain emerged, but was quickly cut off as he drove the knife down into the back of its neck, severing the spine, and dropping it lifelessly to the floor.
"Jesus, Gavin..." Caerys muttered, beside him almost instantly. "How the fuck are you still doing that..."
"Born to fight." He explained, wincing as he felt the broken rib grinding from his exertions. "Come on, let's go."
Godalming, Surrey, November 24th
"Ma'am, I'm sorry, this area's off-limits." A tall, thin policeman stepped in front of Caerys as she bustled through towards the car, just visible at the end of the street.
"I need my car." She pointed to it. "My friend's been hurt, I need to get him to a hospital." Behind her, Gavin hunched — not entirely acting — on Sophie's support, causing her to stumble over the rain-slicked cobbled road under the unfamiliar weight.
"Jesus..." the policeman muttered, seeing the blood soaking into Gavin's shirt. "Come on then."
Lifting one of the bollards that held the reflective tape serving as a barrier, he gesture to Caerys, and she ran to the car. Grinding the gears as she put it into reverse she quickly drew level with the policeman — almost knocking into him in her haste — and then got out to help Sophie put Gavin in. They struggled with the weight until the policeman gave them a hand.
"You know where the hospital is?" he asked, watching with some relief as Sophie headed for the driver's seat.
"Oui." She told him. "Sorry, yes, Monsieur." An American and a Frenchwoman, given the situation, weren't the most significantly unusual things he'd seen, and he brushed past them easily as the car pulled away past the growing cavalcade of emergency and media vehicles heading for the usually quiet village.
"Which way?" Sophie asked, reaching the first junction, not recognising the names on the signs.
"Left." Gavin told her, and Sophie pulled away concentrated on staying the correct side of the road.
"Hang on..." Caerys muttered, looking around, "this is heading back towards the house."
"Christophe's there." Gavin confirmed. "We'll be safe..."
"You need a hospital!"
"I need a rest." He corrected her, coughing hard as the car rumbled over a cattle-grid, drawing a frown from Sophie. "I already have a doctor after all..."
Caerys fell silent, and Gavin silently directed Sophie with gestures as he wheezed his breathing.
"We're being followed again..." Caerys muttered, breaking the silence.
"I don't see anyone..." Sophie replied, checking the mirrors.
"They're there... closing..."
"Check for... a helicopter..." Gavin muttered, but neither of them could make anything out staring up as Sophie pulled the wheel hard to turn the car into the gravelled drive of his house.
"They're getting closer." Caerys warned, as they got out the car, Gavin stumbling and dropping to his knees as he approached the door.
"Get in." he gasped, punching the code into the keypad by the door as the noise of cars sounded up the drive. "In and left..." he pointed to the recess he'd pushed Christophe into before they left. Sophie crushed herself in, uncomfortably, and felt the floor suddenly drop away as the recess fell. Caerys squealed as she disappeared, then stared as, moments later, the recess reappeared without Sophie.
"Go." Gavin told her, forcing the door shut.
"I smell gas." Caerys told him, slowing near the 'lift'.
"I know. Hurry." She stepped in, fitting more comfortably with her thinner figure, and braced herself for the drop.
"Charisma..." Gavin wheezed, as the first thump hit the door as someone tried to break in.
"Yes, Gavin." Came the reply as he stepped onto the lift.
"Blow it." The lift dropped, and the house disintegrated as the gas ignited.
Sutton, Surrey, November 24th
"Christophe!" Sophie squealed her delight as she was pitched off the descending platform, into the broad, square room where her son sat in a large, black-leather chair.
"Maman!" he jumped up, crossing the space to her quickly, and jumping into her arms as Caerys arrived behind her.
"Did you smell gas?" she demanded, as she watched the platform rise.
"Gas? Yes, now that you mention it..." she muttered, sideways, quickly checking Christophe for signs of injury or damage as he stood quietly and patiently. Above them, a thunderous crack of power sounded, raining dust from the ceiling down on them, as Gavin appeared in the lift which dropped harshly to a halt.
"Honey," he wheezed, slumping to the floor. "I'm home."
"Shit!" Caerys turned back to him, devoid of ideas as Sophie slipped past, quickly checking his pulse and breathing as best she could without instruments.
"He's weak." She muttered. "He should be dead already..."
"Charisma." Christophe called out, quietly.
"Yes, Christophe." The disembodied voice replied.
"Is there a first aid kit here?"
"Medical supplies are in the hallway between the gym and the kitchen."
"Who the fuck is that?" Caerys looked about, seeking signs of a camera.
"Caerys, mind your language please." Sophie whispered, arranging Gavin's limbs on the floor, pressing along his chest gently to find the fracture. Christophe appeared at her side, towing a large chest with a red cross on it, that Sophie hurriedly opened. Inside were the usual bandages and anti-septic ointments she might have expected from a home first-aid kit, but also there were suture kits, inflatable splints, anti-biotics and several vials of labelled tablets and liquids labelled as inoculations for various diseases.
"Est-il bien?" Christophe whispered.
"Je ne sais pas, Christophe." She replied, quietly, looking up at Caerys, and realising she didn't understand. "I don't know how well he is. Why don't you go sit down, Caerys and I have some work to do."
"We do?"
"Oui, Maman."
"I need to examine him properly. Did you see a bed, anywhere?"
"There's a bedroom through there." Christophe pointed behind her, to a door in the wall beside the lift.
"Let's get him in there, first."
"Is it safe to lift him?" Caerys wondered, aloud.
"I think so, he was walking, talking, I don't think there's any spinal injuries, no marks on his head. The rib might move, but it's already scored his lung, the sooner we can lay him somewhere soft the better."
"Alright." After their first, abortive attempt to lift him, they satisfied themselves with dragging him through to the bedroom, and dragging the mattress down to the floor for him.
"Now, take off his shirt." Sophie returned for the chest, dragging it behind her as well, as Christophe watched.
Caerys peeled the blood-soaked garment off his chest, admiring the lean, taut musculature as she did, seeing the unconscious wince on his face as she moved him.
"Sorry..." she whispered, and the wince disappeared, though she didn't know if that were the words or just that she stopped moving him. The long wound on his side still seeped blood — part of it, she was sure, from where she'd removed the shirt.
"Now his trousers." Sophie told her, slipping on a pair of latex gloves from the chest, frowning slightly when she realised how much bigger than her hands they were.
"Trousers?" Caerys paused a moment. "Oh, his pants, right."
"Well, we'll see. Trousers for now." Sophie explained, and began cataloguing his injuries. The rib was obvious now, the expanding bruise below his arm-pit showing up clearly, as was the long laceration on his hip. Less obvious, though, were the plethora of scars and blemishes that showed a long history of injuries and wounds, some stitched and treated neatly and well, others less well. Two large, round scars on his chest showed what she thought were bullet wounds, but there was no evidence of the shot that had hit him earlier.
Caerys finished stripping the denim away from his legs, and Sophie spared a glance for a number of other scars and wounds — a long knife wound and what looked like a dog-bite stood out to her — before she decided on her treatment.
"Caerys... get some of those wipes, I need you to clean all the cloth fibres out of that knife wound." She pointed, and Caerys blanched a little.
"You're kidding, right?"
"Caerys, please... just clean it. Use some gloves if you need to. There are some tweezers in there, too, they might help."
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to set his rib right." She pointed to the bruise. Reaching out, she watched his reaction as she pressed against it, and Caerys drew her hands back sharply as he groaned and shifted. "Keep going, that was me." Sophie told her, her tone clipped and professional, her mind absorbed in the task as she dipped a hand into the chest, rummaging briefly for the vial she wanted, and opening up a sealed syringe.
"What's that?" Caerys asked, shaking hands unsuccessfully trying to guide the tweezers in on a pieces of fabric.
"Anaesthetic." She replied, and jabbed it into his arm. "This should be done by an anaesthetist." She pointed out.
"I don't think there's one of those in the chest." Caerys observed, wryly, taking confidence from the calm way Sophie went about her tasks.
"No." Sophie managed a half-smile and began. It was several minutes before she felt the sudden ease of pressure, and smoothed her hand along the curve, feeling it smooth and even.
"How are you doing?" She turned to look at Caerys, seeing the small pile of cloth fibres on the edge of the sheet, and the sweat streaking Caerys' face as she concentrated on her task.
"Just this bit to go..." she whispered, the strain obvious in her voice, and Sophie reached over, gently taking the tweezers from her.
"I'll get it, now." She said, and Caerys slumped backwards, kneeling nearby and massaging the protesting muscles at the small of her back as Sophie carried on.
Sutton, Surrey, November 24th
Sophie stumbled out of the bedroom, finally, kneading her lower back, to find Caerys wrapping a blanket round Christophe curled up on the chair.
"What time is it?" she mumbled.
"Gone ten." Caerys told her, turning. "Did you want a cup of tea?"
"Yes, please." Sophie managed a wan smile.
"There's a sitting room through there," she pointed, "and a kitchen through there."
"What is this place?"
"I don't know..." she looked around at the sterile steel décor and the computer equipment of the main room. "Survival bunker of some sort, I guess. There's three bedrooms, a gym... all sorts." She moved through to the kitchen, and Sophie shuffled through behind her. "How is he?"
"Comfortable, I think." Sophie managed, slumping onto a stool at the counter and resting her forehead on her hands. "I've stitched his side, and his rib is strapped up — I couldn't see anything else wrong."
"And how are you?"
"Tired." She admitted, trying to stretch the kinks out of her back. The tea was warm rather than hot, and Sophie gulped it down quickly, slumping her head onto the counter.
"Come on, don't go to sleep there." Caerys chivvied her to her feet, and guided her through to the room with the double bed. "Off with that shirt." Clumsily, sleepily, Sophie struggled with the buttons until Caerys reached down to help her, and stripped off the blood-stained garment.
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