The Hunt

Chapter 16

Darren:

I hold Mike's gaze. I want nothing more than to look away, to turn and run. I can almost feel his anger pulsing out from his eyes. But I force myself to look, to keep looking and steel myself, ready to try and block his strike.

I'm no match for him in a fight, that much I already know, but it won't stop me trying to defend myself. I see John lying on the ground, eyes closed, face bloody. But he's breathing. He's a mess but he's breathing.

I pull my hand from his arm and let it hang limply by my side. The silence is tense, the atmosphere thick, my heart is beating madly, I can hear it throbbing like a drum, pulse pounding in my ears. I feel the sweat drip from my forehead and imagine I hear it hit the ground.

And then it breaks. Just like that. I see the change in his eyes first, the fire goes out. Mike's body visibly relaxes and his smile returns. It still doesn't reach his cold eyes. I can see now that the anger is masked. It's always there, cloaked behind sarcasm and humour.

"Well, captain." He says. "I can't disobey a direct order now, can I?" I can tell he's not looking for an answer and I'm taken aback by the sudden shift. As though a chord was released I feel the others shifting behind me, it's almost like the volume's been turned up and they're breathing again.

"I think we're done with the training." Mike says to the instructor, who nods his head in agreement. Another sign just how important Mike is. He is clearly in charge in this room.

Mike moves away from me, towards the others by the door. I run over to John's side and kneel down, putting a finger on his pulse.

I'm no medic but we do get basic first aid in our training. His pulse seems normal and he's still breathing. That's a good start.

"John, can you hear me?" I ask. There's no reply.

I push open his eyes and watch his pupils dilate. But there's no other reaction. "John? Can you hear me?" I ask, lightly slapping his face, being careful not to make it worse. I feel my panick rising. Whatever I may have wished for John earlier, it wasn't this.

"He's out for the damn count." Says Jack, coming up by my side. "And it's damn well deserved."

"We need to get him to the infirmary." I say. The infirmary is small. It has only about six beds. It's over by the City side exit, not too far from where we are. "We'll need to carry him there. Jack, I need you to help me."

I don't trust the others in my team. Not after what I just saw with Mike. I look round and see them scattered around the room, looking mostly unconcerned. Only Billy, the driver, is looking at us, a worried crease on his forehead.

Chuck is on his feet and comes towards me. The others of John's soldiers are behind him, looking reluctant and unsure, hovering by the door. They look like they want to be out of here as soon as they can. I can't say I blame them. But I don't know if they're concerned for their companion lying unconscious on the floor or not.

"We'll take him." Chuck says. There's no warmth in his deep voice. I fix my eyes on his.

"I never wanted this." I say.

He says nothing, crouching down and gently lifting John's body, his muscles straining with the tension. He straightens up. The tail of his dragon tatoo seems to move with life and he turns and walks to the door. Man, he must be strong. I'm glad I won't be fighting him any time soon.

"Let's go." He says to the others at the door and they all leave without a backwards glance.

I look over at Mike, he's still smiling. He's talking to Frank, gesturing with his hands. They both laugh. It's a cruel sound, bereft of any real joy. I feel fury building up within, ready to explode. What the hell is wrong with these people?