Walk The Earth: Doctor Who/Studio C [Book 2]

Haunted and Hunted

Haunted and Hunted

Hunting you, I can smell you—alive / Your heart pounding in my head / Watching me, wanting me / I can feel you pull me down. -Evanescence, 'Haunted'

"Unified Containment Forces! Hands in the air!"

The few seconds of bliss shattered and melted away as if they had never been. In its place was cold, automatic survival instinct. Matt and Mallory both snatched up their bags, and at another time she might have marveled at how easily they synced up with each other when push came to shove.

"Is there a back door out of here?" she hissed to Albert. He gave a curt nod, moving through the kitchen with surprising speed.

The UCF had either not seen or not yet covered the back door, allowing them to slip out unnoticed. Mallory didn't want to dwell on how many times over she'd be dead if it wasn't for her perception filter, though, nor the fact that if they'd been a few seconds later that house would likely have been the final trap she had ever walked into.

Just moments after they reached a small grouping of trees that offered some form of cover in the watery dawn light, three men came around the back of the house, indeed cutting off what had been the pair's exit.

There was a livid-sounding shout from inside, though the words were lost.

A gunshot.

An ear-piercing shriek that was abruptly cut off by another shot.

Mallory shuddered. They had met plenty of trigger-happy UCF before, but this felt different.

She knew the feeling of having her life at risk. She knew the feeling of close calls and even closer escapes.

But never before had she felt hunted.

~~~

Rath had burst into the house with all the finesse of a herd of stampeding buffalo. That had been his first mistake—giving his prey a few critical seconds of warning. It had been a long time since he'd had to use such precise tactics. Once Boston had fallen prey to the Toclafane, all that was really needed was to keep a grip on the city was the air of meaning fatal business, and people fell right into line.

It was clear now that he would have to be much more careful in the future.

He knew they had been here. A blubbering man had mistakenly revealed that fact before his life was abruptly and unceremoniously ended. Rath had immediately ordered Barton to contact the rest of Paducah's UCF through Overwatch, the UCF's command and control network that was one of the only reliable means of contact in this day thanks to being routed through Archangel. It did no good—there were too few agents covering too much ground in this part of the country.

His prey had escaped.

Rath was forced to acknowledge this fact a few hours later, with a trail of bodies in his wake. A man with a competitive streak as wide as his own never took failure well, and such failure left a sour sneer on his face all day.

He would not dwell on it, though. Dwelling led to stewing, and stewing led to wasting time that could be better served tracking down his prey for another attempt.

As the sun crept higher in the sky, he hefted his pistol and tucked it back into his belt. He intended to teach Mallory Everton one thing and one thing only:

He meant business. Ruthless, cold, fatal business.

~~~

Even after a month and a half on the Valiant, Jason had a hard time comparing the withered man in front of him with the fleet-footed alien who had once held all of time and space at his disposal that Matt had told him so much about.