“How’s our patient?” Hannibal asked, looking over from the window he stood at, a gun ready in his hand. He glanced back out the window.
“Not good, Hannibal. He’s burning up,” Amy replied, knelt beside Face who lay out cold on a dirty old couch. With a bowl beside her, she dabbed cold water over Face’s sweating forehead, trying to clean the cuts and dirt from his face. “I think he needs a doctor.”
“We’ll get him there soon, kid.” He always sounded confident, no matter how bad the situation.
“What the hell did they do to him?” she asked, observing the cuts and bruises on his arms and face. His torn shirt displayed similar afflictions, but nothing major; nothing that would send him into this fever. She frowned, it puzzled her. She looked up to watch Hannibal still glancing out of the small square window, behind a tatty curtain. “Hannibal, you should go find BA and Murdock, they might need you.”
“I don’t want to leave you on your own, kid.”
“I’ll be fine.” She tried to sound convincing, hiding her fear. “Besides, I’m not on my own,” she looked at Face, “the quicker you find BA and Murdock, the quicker we get him to a doctor.”
Hannibal nodded. “Here, take this. Face will be relieved to know I rescued his revolver,” he said as he handed her over the gun. She gave a wry smile. “Know how to use it?”
Amy nodded, placing the gun in the back of her pants, hoping deep down she really wouldn’t need to use it.
“I’ll be back soon, kid,” Hannibal said as he checked it was clear and then he walked out the door.
Amy continued to wash the dirt off of her patient’s face. She watched as his eyes moved under his eyelids, and his head tossed from side to side, mumbling and groaning.
“Face, it’s alright. I’m here.” She dipped the cloth back into the bowl, then wrung it out and dabbed at his forehead. “Hannibal’s gone to find BA and Murdock, so you’re stuck with me.” Brushing his hair back with one hand whilst she dabbed the damp cold cloth with the other, she spoke the words, hoping that he could hear her. Maybe it would bring him back.
Suddenly his eyes shot open, wide, his hand grabbed her arm. She gasped in pain, as his grip tightened. He was hurting her.
“Face, it’s Amy. We’re in some house. You’re safe.”
He gave a sly smile and before Amy knew it, he’d thrown her on to the ground, sliding his hand down her back, retrieving the gun and placed himself on top of her. He now pointed it directly at her, restraining her.
“Face?” Amy’s voiced quavered. “It’s me, Amy. Hannibal’s gone to get help.”
“Oh yeah, well I don’t need any help.” Face pinned her arms above her head with one hand. “Scream and I’ll...”
“What are you doing?”
“Giving you something you want, sweetheart, you’ve always wanted, a piece of me.” He was undoing his zipper and then pulling at her pants with one hand.
“Face, Face!” Amy screamed, petrified. She tried wriggling, to escape, but he was too strong for her. “This is not you. Not you! You wouldn’t do this. I don’t want this. No. No!”
“Sure you do, kid.”
“No, Face. No. I don’t. Stop!”
Everything else was a blur. She felt Face's weight lift off of her. She looked up.
“BA, he’s got a gun!”
A foot out of nowhere. Kicking. Male voices; all recognisable. The gun shot.
She jumped, automatically closing her eyes, hands to her ears as she heard the gun fire.
Afterwards, all she could hear was the deafened ringing.
~ end~
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