Eighteen
I've got to get to you first
Before they do
It's just a question of time
Before they lay their hands on you
And make you just like the rest
I've got to get to you first
It's just a question of time
Well now you're only fifteen
And you look good
I'll take you under my wing
Somebody should
They've persuasive ways
And you'll believe what they say
It's just a question of time
It's running out for you
It won't be long
Until you'll do
Exactly what they want you to
I can see them now
Hanging around
To mess you up
To strip you down
And have their fun
With my little one
It's just a question of time
It's running out for you
It won't be long
Until you'll do
Exactly what they want you to
Sometimes I don't blame them
For wanting you
You look good
And they need something to do
Until I look at you
And then I condemn them
I know my kind
What goes on in our minds
It's just a question of time
It should be better
It's just a question of time
It should be better with you
It's just a question of time
Buffy didn’t wait to see what happened. Scrambling to her feet, she backpedaled quickly, climbing higher and higher. She didn’t realize she was crying until she couldn’t see anything, and she abruptly wiped away the tears. Oh god.
Oh. Oh god. Spike!
She rounded on a small tree, too fast to stop her momentum and landed heavily on her butt, sliding down several feet. Not giving herself time to give in to the fear and despair, Buffy hopped to her feet, staggering when her ankle gave way beneath her weight. Shit. Oh shit.
Not good. Spike said to go. I can’t . . . I can’t leave him. I . . .
Buffy leaned heavily against large evergreen tree, shielded from the pathway by its snow laden branches and thick trunk. Her breath gusted out harshly, ending in a startled hiccup. The backs of her jeans were soaked, only her butt protected from the snow by the long sweater and over-sized jacket Spike had forced her into earlier.
There was no noise, no sounds but the soft falling snow. There was no indication that someone had just been shot and Buffy began to doubt what she’d seen and heard. Maybe he . . . it wasn’t him. He didn’t get – NO! He’s fine.
Hobbling from tree to tree, Buffy started to make her way down the hillside, heading for the boulder she’d hidden behind. Her ankle protested every step, but she clenched her teeth and slowly moved forward.
I can’t leave him.
The siblings froze, and then circled slowly, covering each other’s flank. This was familiar, moves and tactics they’d practiced from the moment Alanna had graduated from the Academy; and now the unconscious synchronous movements paid off. Slowly they eased down the hillside, Gunn at the point, while Alanna watched behind them. Almost breathlessly he counted off the paces, letting her know when the ground dropped, ensuring she wouldn’t lose her balance and cause an additional problem.
“Three targets. At ten, two, and three.” Gunn dropped down, using a wide evergreen for camouflage. He peered intently at the figure standing at his ten, and realized that it was Pratt. “Ten is friendly.”
Alanna crouched beside him, peering around and through the spiky leaves. “You sure that’s him?”
“Yeah.” Gunn leaned further to his left, inching slowly around the snow-laden pine tree. “He’s got no cover.”
“Let’s give him some.” She crab-walked away, moving to a bunch of climbing ivy clinging stubbornly to a dying oak, keeping low and out of sight. Easing further to her right, Alanna sighted along her gun and shot a round at the unknowns.
Cursing her impulsive move, Gunn hunkered down on his belly and let off a follow-up round, avoiding the area around his partner. “God damn it, girl!”
Casting a furious glance back at her, Gunn kept up his litany of expletives, trying to keep both his sister and his partner covered, so neither of them got hit with gunfire.
A quick succession of shots answered their first rounds, causing Gunn to roll further away from Alanna. He re-oriented himself, eyes scanning the scene to make sure all the players were still visible. His sister had edged closer to the three, and she was now almost level with the shooters. Pratt had disappeared, though Gunn thought he spied his still form crouched behind one of the boulders that dotted the entire park. His breath gusted heavily in his ears, sounding too loud in the sudden stillness.
The advantage of seeing his adversaries before they managed to spot him was exceedingly short-lived. Partially to draw their attention – and keep it – away from where Buffy huddled against the boulder, Will deliberately made enough noise to alert them to his movements.
He’d been expecting it, so when the muffled shot echoed in the air, he was already moving, ducking behind a snow-dusted boulder. What he hadn’t expected was the succession of shots following. Crouching down, making the smallest possible target, he leaned around the boulder. Their pursuers had split, finding cover from the volley of shots that spluttered from nowhere. Will wasn’t sure who was shooting, and whether his tail had picked up a tail of their own. The eerie pre-dawn light wasn’t helping visibility and the snowfall had inexplicably picked up, which was to his benefit. Or he hoped it was.
Movement to his left drew his attention and he squinted, trying to identify the source. It was uphill from his current position and he shifted, deliberately leaving himself open. Have to protect Buffy. She was up there, a good distance from whoever was there, but he couldn’t – didn’t dare – believe that whoever was behind that tree was friend and not foe. Another round of shots peppered the air and he took the opportunity to get a better look at the figure hiding behind the low pine. Despite the piss-poor visibility, Will was fairly certain that it was Gunn. His partner was tall, and broad, and with his bald head, fairly recognizable. Though he couldn’t see clearly enough to get a facial identification, the fact he hadn’t shot at him was a clear indicator.
Okay. Gotta be him. So if it’s him, he’s probably not alone. Another round of shots going off drew his attention and Will squeezed the trigger of his nine millimeter in response. There was a weird noise, something between a shout and a groan and then nothing. But how the hell did he get here?
Cautiously he stood up, peering over the top of the boulder. Bullets thunked against the blue stone, shards of rock pelting him. Blood splattered the snow and Will cursed his own stupidity. “Fuck!”
His hands were covered in blood and he could feel it chilling on his face. He hadn’t taken a direct hit, but there were shards embedded into his cheek and he pulled a fairly big piece from his forehead. Oh, bloody hell. I hope to Christ Gunn isn’t alone. Fuck. He inhaled deeply, trying to push aside the pain. C’mon, Pratt, gotta protect the girl. Gotta save the girl. Can’t do it if you’re face down in the snow.
Will leaned heavily against the boulder, resting his bloody face against the snow, hoping the cold would slow the bleeding. Three minutes. Just give it three minutes an’ then move. That’s all.
Mentally counting off the seconds, Will wiped his hand on his jeans. Time to go.
Sliding around the boulder, he moved to his left and ran for the closest trees.
Buffy made it five steps before she landed on her butt again. This time, she didn’t think she could stand, because the pain in her ankle was blinding and she couldn’t gasp in enough air to stop the pain. “Ow, ow, ow. Crap, this really hurts.”
Her voice was a bare whisper of sound, since she was deathly afraid of gaining someone’s attention. She was reaching for her foot when the round of shots went off and Buffy jumped, then curled into a ball. Oh no!
What’s going on? She tried rolling onto her side, keeping her injured foot above the other. The pressure eased a little, but the whumping gunfire kept her on edge. Buffy eased down hill, crawling forward inch by inch. Using her elbows and her hips, she wiggled closer to the action. She couldn’t see anything and because of the steadily falling snow, she couldn’t even be sure she was facing the right direction. Will could be anywhere now.
More shots rang out and Buffy curled up, making herself as small as possible. If I stay here like this, maybe I’ll be okay. The snow will cover me . . . and I’ll be safe.
I’ll be safe.
Gunn watched as his partner bobbed his head up over the boulder and let loose with an unspoken string of expletives. You stupid motherfucker! What the hell is wrong with you?
He pivoted around the pine, squeezing off a burst of shots that thunked into the surrounding trees. Gunn wasn’t trying to miss his targets, though from the returning fire, he realized he had. And in the same instant, he was rolling to his left, heading away from his last position. The movement brought him closer to the action, though still slightly uphill.
There was no way to tell where anyone else was, given the conditions. Chance, and fate were now the only things keeping all of them on the winning side of the column. He could make educated guesses, and he had the advantage of being able to place his partner, but that was all. Alanna was somewhere off to his right, on the other side of the field of fire. Gunn had to trust that she would make it through. Coz if she doesn’t, Mamma is gonna boil my ass in the roasting pan.
“Pratt!” He hissed out, calling to his injured partner. “Pratt!”
A muffled, barely audible response was all he got, and Gunn crab-walked closer to where he thought the sound originated. “Pratt!”
This area of the park was littered with big bluestone boulders, large evergreen pines, and very old elms, oaks, and birches. In the summer, it was almost a primeval jungle, covered in green and providing large shaded areas. That same landscape in the winter snow was treacherous. The rocks, hidden by snowdrifts were slick surfaces incapable of giving safe footing. The ivy and lower shrubs tangled up boots and laces, snagging on jeans and making it nearly impossible to run. Gunn slid and tripped his way through a particularly rough patch, ending up almost at Spike’s feet, his head nearly buried beneath a couple of inches of snow.
“Jesus Christ, Charles!” Pratt leaned down, awkwardly pushing the snow away. “You trying to get us both killed?”
“Nah, man. I figured your sorry ass could manage that on your own. I’m just here taking notes.” Gunn heaved himself up, hunkering back down when a couple of shots whizzed past his head. “God damn it! What the fuck did you get yourself into now?”
Spike stared at him, shaking his head. “You volunteered for this shit.”
“Right.” Readjusting his hat, Gunn rolled his eyes, then poked Will in the shoulder. “You look like shit. How’s your aim?”
“Fair to middling. How’s yours?” Will leaned his back against the tree they weren’t hiding behind and blinked furiously.
“Fair to – what the fuck is wrong with you, man?” Gunn stretched himself out, trying to make a smaller target. “Dumb ass.”
A low chuckle shook Will and he glanced down at his partner. “You say that like you don’t love me.”
“Are you ever serious?”
While Spike appeared to be contemplating his answer, Gunn fired off another round, then fumbled for another clip. “Where’s your girl?”
“Up there. Hopefully where I left her.” Spike leaned around, rolling over his partner. “You bring back up?”
“Alanna.”
There was no returning gunfire and Spike took advantage, moving further away from Gunn, closer to where he’d left Buffy. “Call it in.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Lifting his cell phone, Gunn hit the numbers, bypassing the switchboards. His report of the situation was clear and given softly. “Two minutes out. Shots were already called in.”
“Gotta love this city.” Will cracked a maniacal grin. “Cover me.”
He got to his feet, hunched almost horizontally and clambered back up the hill. Gunn let a stream of bullets go, not letting up until Will was out of sight. “Crazy-assed sonofabitch. . .”
Until Gunn had mentioned her, Spike hadn’t let himself think of Buffy. He had to concentrate on keeping them away from her, and if that meant keeping his brain shut down, he did. But Gunn’s question hadn’t helped. He had back-up, in the form of his partner and his sister, and that just opened the floodgates. Will closed his eyes, gulping in cold air. It steadied him a bit, swept aside his panic and allowed him to gather his wits. She’ll be there, safe and sound, tucked up and freezing. But safe.
She’ll be there. . .
The falling snow had obliterated his footsteps, nearly covering Charles’ more recent ones and Will ran from one rock to the next, his breath huffing and heart thundering each time he didn’t trip over her. Muffled gunfire sounded behind him, and though he was tempted to return fire, he didn’t. They hadn’t spotted him, at least not yet, which gave him added hope. The longer he went unnoticed, the safer Buffy would be. At least that’s what he kept telling himself. Will wasn’t holding out much hope though. He had no idea how many people had been in the SUV. Nor did he know if the back-up Gunn had requested was on the way. There were too many variables for him to relax completely. He wouldn’t until Buffy was within his care.
Will ducked behind another boulder, hoping to find her waiting for him.
C’mon, Buffy, where the hell are you?
There. That’s the damn rock . . .
She wasn’t there.
She’s not here . . .
See, that wasn't so long a wait, right? You all still love me don't you? Reviews are gratefully received and wonderfully welcome after the week I've been having. Next chapter is half-written, so shouldn't be long before that's posted also. Enjoy!