The Girl Behind The Bullets

N I N E T E E N

Having a lack of communication with Charlie is making life pretty hard. After our attack, Charlie concluded that The Huntsman had been tracking are phones hence why he knew where we were. So now we don't contact each other unless we are face to face, which is annoying.
It's late into the Friday evening in London and the air is chilly with a light breeze. It's impossible to see the stars in any city when there are thousands and thousands of orange and yellow street lamps around. I keep my head down and continue along a different route back to the hotel where Charlie should be asleep. My head is racing and hoping that what I've just done is the right thing to do, I've initiated contact with the enemy again. However I have a different agenda this time and I hope no one fucks it's up.

Suddenly, a whole range of alarm bells go off inside my head. A scent, I'm walking with the breeze so the scent is coming from behind me. Why is it so familiar? That musky, deep and rich scent that feels so rare yet so familiar. I think back to all my recent past encounters and boom, I remember.

It belongs to The Huntsman.

Yes it does, the scent literally describes him down to a tee. His large frame, combed back hair and long stubble, and that irritating yet incredible infectious smile.
Fuck.
I keep waking and don't change anything about anything. If he is behind me then he's counting on me to notice, it would be the same scenario if i was in his position. It's always a test, always a game.
I think logically about this, I can't lead him back to Charlie because he obviously wants Charlie dead too so I need to make an alternative plan, somewhere where I have the advantage. I have a gun but then again he probably does too, a gunfight is too risky. Collateral damage attracts attention. What's the best way to lose a tail, bring them somewhere busy then slip away as soon as you can.

It's Friday night in one of the most popular cities in the world, crowds won't be too hard to find. Slowly I begin to change course and start to navigate back towards the hotel, I use different routes to make sure I don't alarm the dickhead stalking me. I walk for another 10 minutes with periods of increased and decreased speed and I do everything normally, except look behind me. Due to us changing course, his scent is gone but the hairs on my neck are on edge, their telling me he is still there. I turn a sharp 90 degree turn that leads me into a pedestrianised zone but most importantly, it's full of people. I walk directly down the middle of the street, I'm weary of cameras so I pull my coat up a little more and lower my head a little bit. People laugh and drink to my sides as I pass by them before they have time to compute me.

With each passing step, the volume of people seems to increase, I'm heading deeper into the party zone. When I enter a crowd of people that slows my progress, it's here I decide I should look back and see if it is actually him thats following me or if I'm just paranoid. Just before I merge into the swamp of humans, I turn to my right and look sideways over my shoulder. As I exhale, my warm breath collides with the colder air to create a cloud of condensation. My green eyes scan those who stand behind me until they meet those unforgettable brown ones. Even in this low dim light, I can see the excitement of them, the thrill of the hunt. He too has stopped around 40 metres back, maybe he anticipated my move. This notion is further enhanced when those white teeth make an appearance with that equally as unforgettable smile. Why is he smiling all the time? It's not like he has accomplished much recently I wonder. We both know that when i enter this crowd he won't be able to find me, I've won this little game. To signal I'm leaving, i flash him a little smirk which seems to make his smile even bigger. I move forward and push myself through the first layer of people and disappear from view.

Hopefully he isn't stupid enough to follow. I gently manoeuvre myself past all the people, gently so they don't want to ask why I'm rushing. There's no way he could catch me through the thick wave of people and when I re-emerge out the other end, I don't waste time leaving. Moving with smaller groups of people, I keep a watchful eye as I inch closer and closer to the motel. I have so much to tell Charlie, most of if consisting of how on earth this prick is still able to track me.
The moon occasionally peaks out from behind the clouds and illuminates the street before quickly covering itself again. With all my senses on overload, I don't see The Huntsman anywhere and I'm nearly one hundred percent sure I've lost him. As the crowds begin to thin out once again, I scan each face to make sure it isn't him. I walk at a fast pace, eager to return to the shelter and minimal security of our unknown motel room.

The tips of my fingers ache with the cold and my body yearns for a hot shower by time the motel comes into sight at my 10 o clock. There was five cars in the lot before I left, now there are four. The same person sits behind the desk at the dimly light reception, boredom taking over their life. I wriggle my hands as they sit deep in my pockets. I walk up to the door and knock in the way Charlie and I agreed upon. I wait for a moment and try again after the first attempt goes unanswered. My teeth chatter with the cold as I wait for him to pull open the door and let me in.
I try a third time, now I'm getting a little suspicious. I push my head and my ear up against the door and listen particularly for the shower. My hand slowly reaches around to my handgun as I hear absolutely nothing on the other side. With my other hand, I pull a hair flip from my hair and discretely pick the lock to our room. I silently pull the clip out and drop it to the ground, it's small size won't give away any sound. With my hand now free I place it on the door handle and push it down at the same time that I pull out my handgun and point to forward.

With ease, the door flings open and I charge in with my gun pointed. My eyes and gun drift over the bed, the floor and the door to the bathroom as my legs bring me in that direction. Using my boot, I kick down the door and charge in once again, the barrel of my gun points to the bath and to all the corners. Seeing that no one is here, i lower my gun and stand motionless for a moment.

"Where the hell are you?" I question aloud as I wonder why he would leave the room. I retreat my steps out to the main area of the room and I notice how all his laptops, all his bags and all his little possessions are still here. As I rack my brains around this conundrum, my eyes glance at the bed side table and something catches my attention. I slowly approach the table to see that there is a piece of paper that has been folded in half but it's the smiley face drawn on in with pen that catches my attention.

I place my gun on the bed with the barrel pointed towards the door and pick up the random item. This feels way off, this is not Charlie. I carefully unfold and read the contents written on the paper. It doesn't take long for me to regret not turning around in the market and putting a bullet through the Huntsman head.

"You're not as smart as you think you are sweetheart, but I'm going to give you a second chance. Come find me and maybe I'll think about keeping your little boyfriend alive. Tic toc sweetheart, tic tok"

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