Reactive Envy

Chapter Two: The accident part two....

Wellington's crime rate is safely low, with the lowest crime rate in New Zealand. This is a significantly lower crime rate than in the UK, where his family had moved from when he was only 4. Anne wanted a country to raise her children in that was close in mannerisms but different enough that they would all be proud enough to call it home.

Sometimes Harry wished he still lived in Cheshire, but they had nothing left for them there, and he had loved his life in New Zealand. Harry could walk safely at night-time in expensive clothing, holding his MacBook and iPhone, and not once consider being robbed or kidnapped. Being a small country of only 5 million people meant he could get from one end of the country to the other for business or pleasure in under 24 hours. New Zealand is also breathtakingly beautiful with its rolling green hills, beaches around every corner, and friendly people.

Harry stops his commute home to fully take in the scene before him. Two cars banged up on the steep street, which is hard to distinguish the make and model of with the low lightening from the moon and the streetlights curtained by the tall totara trees dotted around. All he can tell is one is extremely high end possibly a Mercedes or a Jaguar. The other is still nice but far less exclusive, possibly a Mazda.

Being a journalist, he knows every detail is critical, especially in a state of slight panic. The next thing he notices is the sheer amount of emergency services. Six police cars, three being standard patrol cars, two that are dog handler vehicles, and one being a paddy wagon. There are two ambulances and a fire truck parked strategically around the 'crime scene' to protect the scene from onlookers. Therefore, giving the victims some privacy. It is also more likely as a safety precaution to stop anyone from driving into the crashed vehicles that are clearly awaiting a tow truck.

He doesn't know what he is supposed to do. Getting closer could incriminate him, but knowing his journalist pass is with him, he could let his curious mind see what is happening. He needs to pass to get home anyway, or he could backtrack, go around the block and spend an extra 35 minutes walking home. He was starting to feel the weight of his day but approaching a crime scene of this magnitude while also being deathly tired is not intelligent. Pulling his phone out, he decides to give Gemma a call to see if she could meet him on the other side of the crime scene to help get him through without looking suspicious.

*ring* *ring*

when the working day is done, oh girls just want to have fun.

Harry is so used to hearing Gemma's ringtone. They chose after a night of binge-watching movies and too many drinks of lemon, lime, and vodka that he can imagine her ringtone every time he calls.

*ring* *ring*

ho hoo, girls just want to have fun.

Wait- that sound isn't in his head. He doesn't imagine that he can hear the song. He can hear it. That means one of two things, Gemma is on the other side of the crime scene and not answering, or- nope, he doesn't want to let himself think of that.

Moving at what feels like a brisk walk but is probably slow, like a moonwalk. Harry makes his way towards the carnage of the scene before him. He takes another two steps and halts. A body surrounded by ambulance officers is lying on the grass verge just off the road. A police officer stood by the head of the body. Taking a deep breath, Harry moves closer again, hoping this isn't what he can clearly see it is. He looks over to the cars on the road, only now noticing the pink fluffy seat covers of the Mazda, and the hanging picture of himself, Gemma, and Anne on the rear-view mirror. Now knowing its Gemma's car Harry goes to the nearest officer.

Harry starts yelling, "Where is she? Where is my sister? That is her car!"

Breaking down into sobs next to the perplexed officer with the most pitiful, sympathetic facial expressions.

Harry asks again quietly, "Please, sir, tell me what is going on. Where is she?"

The officer squats down next to Harry. "I'm so sorry. Can you confirm who you are asking for and how you found us so soon after it happened?"

Looking sharply up at the officer, Harry breathes out slowly. "I walk this way home 6 days a week from Payne publishing. My sister Gemma Anne Styles is the owner of that Mazda. I would like some bloody answers starting with where she is!"

The officer must have years of experience dealing with family members as he doesn't flinch with Harry's harsh tone. "Your sister is being worked on by ambulance officers. From what we know, a pursuit resulted in a collision that left your sister. Gemma?"

Glaringly, Harry snapped out, "Yes, clearly that is what I said if you can repeat it"

"I understand you are upset. I'm trying to explain the situation. As I was saying, Gemma is currently unconscious. We suspect she has a broken wrist and will need stitches on her forehead. You'll have to ask the ambulance officers about all other medical information since I only know basic first aid".

With a small smile, the officer moved towards Gemma, and the other authorities beckoned Harry along with him. Taking a deep breath and bracing himself for what is to be a horrible scene, he gets up and walks quickly over to his sister.

"Gem." Harry whispers. Dropping back to his knees, he grabs Gemma's limp hand, giving it small kisses, hoping she wakes up soon, thinking to himself about what the officer had said.

A pursuit. Meaning, she was being chased; why would she head towards home if someone was after her? Why didn't she call him? Was this related to her job, or is Gemma in trouble?

"Excuse me, sir, we need to move her to the ambulance so we can head to Wellington hospital. She is going to be okay, but we need to move quickly to not cause any more harm to her." Harry takes a deep breath and stands up, looking back at the same police officer from before. "What is going to happen to her car and her belongings? Also, where is the other driver?"

The officer looked slightly uneasy, looking back at the Jaguar. "Um, we don't know who the driver was. The car is registered to a confidential person. That person was not the driver."

Harry inhaled sharply and stepped back, watching Gemma be wheeled away. "I will take her personal belongings, you can come speak with her when she wakes up, and you better find that driver. Suppose anything serious is wrong with Gemma, and he's not found. In that case, I will post the most horrendous review of the wellington police force you've ever seen. Good day officer!"  

Harry rushes to the ambulance after grabbing Gemma's handbag, phone, and work documents from the car. Looking at his sister, who is still lying motionless, makes him question if wellington is as safe as his mum thought it was.