Tag: prompt

The force of the explosion threw him to the ground, and he covered Benjy’s body with his own to protect him from flying debris. Becca’s cousin was still alive although he was obviously in bad shape.

Becca.

He had to get to her.

Walt wasn’t used to this sort of all consuming fear for another person. He’d always been a lone wolf, he respected and trusted his partner, but what he felt for transcended anything he had ever experienced.

Dragging Benjy further away from what was left of the warehouse, he scanned the area searching for Becca.

Where was she?

Was Brody still hanging around? Had he gotten his hands on Becca again? He hadn’t wanted to leave her alone and unprotected but he’d had to go back for her cousin in case Benjy was still alive. If it had come down to it, whether it made him cold or not, he would have traded Benjy’s life for Becca’s.

There.

He spotted her further away from where he’d left her. The crazy woman must have gotten up and tried to find help instead of resting, which was what she needed, he knew she was in excruciating pain.

Walt ran to her and dropped to his knees at her side in time to see Becca waking up groggily.

“Walt, Benjy, are you all right?” she mumbled when she saw him looming over her.

“We’re both alright,” he assured her. The he heard the most wonderful sound. Sirens. The fire must have caught someone’s attention and it had been called in. They were safe now if cops and fire fighters were descending on the scene.

Safe for now.

Brody was still out there.

Which meant Becca was still in danger.

As carefully as he could he reached out to the woman who made him feel all messed up inside and eased her into his arms, holding her as tightly as he dared without causing her further pain.

In a very uncharacteristic move he pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, I won’t let anyone hurt you again.” That was a vow he intended to keep.

Becca could feel the heat of the flames, hear their crackle, but she felt like she was a million miles away.

Brody’s betrayal cut deep.

How could her brother do this? Murder people, kidnap her, and now he intended to kill her, Walt and Benjy too.

Walt was moving, walking around the warehouse, she assumed trying to find a way out, but right now Becca felt like the fight had drained out of her.

As though sensing that, Walt stopped and jostled her carefully. “Hang in there, Becca,” he ordered.

She was trying, but her strength was fading. Her mental strength as well as her physical strength. Too much had happened too quickly and she was struggling to process it all.

“I’m just going to put you down, I found a door,” Walt said as he carefully set her on the floor. Even though he was gentle she cried out as pain shot through her injured shoulder.

Walt muttered an apology but hurried away where he picked up something and began to hammer at the wall. No, not the wall, a door.

The world faded around her as the smoke got into her lungs, each cough making arrows of pain shoot down her arm. Becca feared she was about to pass out but then she felt a waft of fresh air, as Walt was able to get the door opened.

“Come on,” he said, snatching her up and carrying her out of the burning building. He set her down and immediately turned around.

“What are you doing?” she croaked, catching his hand.

“Getting your cousin,” he replied.

Before she could tell him not to risk his life, Benjy was probably already dead, he had leaned down, kissed her, then run back into the warehouse that was almost consumed with flames.

She had to do something, had to help him somehow. Becca clutched her bad arm to her chest and somehow managed to get onto her feet. She had to find help, a road, a car, a house, anywhere with people so they could call 911.

Becca hadn’t gone far when a huge explosion behind her knocked her down.

The warehouse had just blown up.

With Walt inside.

Raw grief had her giving in when blackness curled around her and she slipped into unconsciousness.

A man stood there smiling cheerfully at them, he’d just tossed a body on the floor, and Walt had to assume that the grinning man was Becca’s cousin Benjy and there in a heap on the floor lay her brother Brody.

At least that’s what he thought until Becca gasped.

“Brody?” she asked incredulously at the man smiling at them.

“What?” he asked sharply.

“But Benjy was the one who through me in the car, I heard his voice while I ran,” Becca stammered.

“I think in his own twisted way he was trying to save you,” Brody informed her.

“From you?” Becca asked, the pain evident in her tone cut through him. It looked like he had been right all along and Brody was the killer not Benjy, he felt no joy at being right, he’d do anything to spare Becca this betrayal by the brother she had defended.

Brody shrugged.

“Why?” the word was an agonised cry and Becca shuddered in his arms as she wept.

“I got sick of hearing about poor Benjy and his damaged brain, and perfect Becca who could do no wrong. Thought this was the perfect way to eliminate both of you.” The smile Brody shot them was borderline maniacal, the man was clearly unbalanced and Walt had no idea how he was going to get himself, Becca, and Benjy-if he was still alive-out of here.

“So you’re going to kill us?” Walt asked.

“Well I wasn’t planning on killing you or your partner but you got in the way, so yeah.” Brody shrugged again like the whole thing was boring him now. “Everyone thinks Benjy is the killer, they’ll assume he decided to go out in a blaze of glory taking the object of his obsession with him.” Brody held up a lighter and flicked it so a small flame flickered.

“No, Brody, please,” Becca sobbed, shaking harder now.

“Tears aren’t going to change anything, Bec,” Brody said. “And I gotta go, unfortunately I’m going to be the only one who managed to escape this tragic event.” The crazy man slammed a hand into his own face, breaking his nose if the blood that started to flow from it was any indication. Then he slammed himself into the wall a few times and ripped at his clothes.

While Brody was preoccupied Walt started inching backwards, heading away from Becca’s brother and hoping there was another way out.

“There’s nowhere to go, Detective,” Brody announced. “But you’re welcome to try. Better be quick though.” He flicked the lighter again then gave them a little wave. “So long, sis, hope the smoke takes you out before the flames get you.” A glimmer of regret crossed his features but he quickly wiped it away and walked to the door, lighting a rag and tossing it onto the ground.

Brody had obviously doused the place in an accelerant because flames immediately sprung to live.

And Walt had no idea how to get himself and Becca out of here alive.

Blood. Pain. Exhaustion.

Those three things swirled around in Becca’s subconscious as she hovered between consciousness and unconsciousness.

Slowly fragments of memory started to return. The fire, jumping from the second storey of her brother’s house, the man grabbing her, the jump from the trunk, running for her life, Walt appearing, the gunshots, pain in her head.

Using every last ounce of strength she had, Becca forced her eyes open to find herself and Walt in a large building, maybe a warehouse or something. Her ankles were bound, her left knee swollen and puffy from landing on it, there were stabbing pains in her chest every time she breathed so she thought she might have cracked some ribs, and her left shoulder hurt so badly she was pretty sure it was shattered.

Walt wasn’t moving and even in the dim light she could see blood streaking his face.

Was he dead?

No, he was bound, hands and feet, so he couldn’t be dead.

He was lying about three feet away but with the way her body hurt it may as well have been three thousand. Gritting her teeth, Becca used her good arm to help her shuffle along on her bottom to reach Walt.

“Walt?” she whispered, shaking him, she needed him to wake up, she … needed him. That was a weird feeling for someone like her who had spent most of her life being fiercely independent. “Wake up, please,” she begged.

Beneath her hand she felt him stir, then he grunted, and his eyes snapped open. He jerked upright then winced at the movement, his eyes rolled a little and she was sure he was about to pass out again, but then he saw her.

“Becca,” he said on an exhale, his gaze raking over her and obviously not liking what he saw. “You’re hurt.”

She nodded, she was and she wasn’t sure she had enough strength left to walk out of here, but she could do whatever it took to get Walt out. “He shot you.”

“Skimmed my head, I think I hit it when the force made me loose my balance, concussion but I’ll be fine,” he said so seriously that she believed in spite of the blood and the look of pain on his face.

“He only tied my ankles so my hands are free, I might be able to get you untied,” she said, gesturing to the ropes binding him.

He took in the way her left arm was cradled protectively against her chest and appeared doubtful but he nodded and shuffled around so his back was to her.

It took her a long time since she only had one hand to work with but eventually she got the knot to loosen a little.

“I can get my hands through that, just hold it still,” Walt said. She did and a moment later he wriggled his hands free. “Rest for a minute while I untie my ankles,” he ordered as he looked around the warehouse, obviously working on a plan to get them both out of here alive.

Since she was so tired she was shaking, Becca did as he said, resting back against the wall and closing her eyes, trying to compartmentalise the pain so she could help Walt however he needed her to.

“Lets go.” She was gathered up into Walt’s strong arms, doing her best not to cry out as the movement jostled her shoulder, crying wasn’t going to help right now so she had to do her best to ignore the pain.

“I can walk,” she offered, knowing Walt was hurting too, he shouldn’t have to carry her added weight.

“No. You can’t,” he stated flatly. “I’m surprised you’re even conscious with the amount of pain I know you’re in. You’re a mess.”

His brutally honest words surprised a chuckle out of her. “You don’t mince words do you?”

“Don’t see the point. And I know you would walk if you could, I know you’re strong, Becca, I’ve seen it in the way you fought when you thought I was an intruder, in the way you defended your brother, in the way you ran for your life. You jumped from the moving car didn’t you? Its how you got hurt.”

“Knew you would be coming, that I just had to stay alive till you got there. And you did come for me.” Despite the pain she snuggled into Walt’s arms, resting her head on his broad shoulder.

“No way I wouldn’t come for you,” he vowed as he carried her across the warehouse to a door.

They were most of the way there when it suddenly swung open. A body was tossed inside and then a cheery voice announced, “Sorry, I’m late to this little family reunion, had one more person to bring to join us.”