Chapter Seventeen

Harry

I had never run so fast in my life – I was always the endurance type. I wasn't one for speed per say but if I had to, I could keep on running for miles.

This time, however, I needed both speed and endurance – they had cars and I had legs. But the pain in my chest and my ragged breathing told me that I needed to stop and hide out for a while. I couldn't go on – I had been running from the hospital, taking alleyways and dodgy shortcuts, for over half an hour.

Besides the pain in my feet and chest, my arm was killing me. I had wrapped a torn strip from my shirt around it, trying to keep it from bleeding any further. The pain was almost enough to bring me to my knees but I had to keep going. I had no time to even think about what was happening – I was waiting to run around a corner and see Dawson at any second.

I stood under a doorway to a deserted building in the far outskirts of the city. I wished I had kept the phone and not destroyed it now that I knew the likelihood of Dawson catching me was slim. But at the time I had just panicked and assumed I would be caught – I literally had twenty seconds to type the text before I smashed it and kept running.

I could only imagine the look on Ethan's face when he received it. I bet he tried to call me the second he'd read the text, which was why I destroyed the phone instantly. I questioned my strength on being able to decline his phone call – he would have just convinced me to head for the motel but that would have been downright reckless.

If Dawson had been tailing me I would have led him straight there – straight to the place where the person I loved more than anything was hiding out and also where I had sent my big brother to.

I leaned my head against the filthy doorway which had old chipping paint falling from it at the slightest touch. I definitely wasn't in a nice area – most of the buildings were either deserted or looked deserted.

I felt a fluttering of nerves – what was I going to do? I hadn't anticipated this. I never thought I would be isolated from the group, running for my life. I either thought I would die or we would succeed. Simple. But no – of course in my fucked up life, things had to get messy.

Georgie's face flashed into my mind for the first time since I'd ran from the hospital. A stabbing pain of grief and emotion had me gripping the wall of the building, angry and vengeful tears springing to my eyes. I had been strong for Hugh and Ethan back in the car – and to be honest, the shock had stopped any form of grief coming to the surface.

All the nights Georgie chased me around the common rooms for teasing him... all the games of darts and pool... A gasp left my mouth and the tears were running steadily down my cheeks. He was gone. Gone for good and never coming back. Just like Freddie. Just like my mother. Would Kim and the gang blame me if we ever saw them again? Probably. Georgie was important to all of us. Is.

I heard a loud bang from somewhere in the near distance and my silent sobbing ceased immediately, fear overpowering the over-whelming grief. I was almost glad for the fear – it stopped the pain. It stopped me from thinking about him.

I needed to get out of here – and fast. The streets were dimly lit, if even, so I had little room to navigate. The wound in my arm was painful but I knew it was only a flesh wound. All the same, I would need to get medical attention for it but I couldn't go to a hospital. I was stuck between two walls closing in slowly but surely. One wall was Dawson and my father and the other was the risk of infection and further problems to my health if I didn't sort the fucking bullet in my arm.

I racked my brain, trying to think of where I could go – where could I possibly go to get the stuff I needed? There was no way I could wait until morning - yes, it was a flesh wound. I've had dozens of those. But they were always seen to immediately. Leaving this wound until the morning wasn't an option.

I suddenly thought of the big medical box I had in our house. It pained me to know that I had a solution but it was unattainable. I could even picture it right now, shoved underneath our king-sized bed. It had everything we needed for any possible wound - it wasn't just your standard first-aid box.

There was no way I could get to it now, though. It was impossible.

Or was it? Cascades of possibilities ran through my head.

I mean, surely Dawson wouldn't even dream that I would go somewhere as obvious as the house Ethan and I shared for the past few weeks? My eyes grew wide as a plan began formulating in my mind.

It was probably one of the most outrageous plans I had ever thought of seriously carrying out – being on the run from my ruthless Captain and choosing to return to one of the places I've spent most of my time in as of recent.

But it could just work... I had extra phones there too – I had memorised Ethan's current number just in case we were separated. I guessed he would destroy that phone tomorrow at some stage so if I rang him before then, we could arrange a meeting place.

I highly doubted any agents would be in our house – it would be suspicious to our neighbours to see strangers coming in and out of our house. We had told Harvey and Jennifer we were on a business trip in Atlanta so they wouldn't worry when they wouldn't see us for a couple of days.

A large smile grew on my face. I had been hopeless a mere matter of minutes ago but now – this was one of my best plans ever! Hiding in plain sight – Dawson's pea-brain wouldn't have the mental capacity to even consider this.

I tried to envision Ethan's face if he were here and I told him this. He would probably hit me for even thinking of doing it and then drag me as far away from that neighbourhood as we could get.

But he wasn't a creative thinker like me. Yes, I had been called reckless and idiotic in my time but I had also been hailed a hero on many occasions and some have even said that Ethan would be lost without my skills during missions.

Actually, it was Georgie who had said that one night when we were drunk. I remember it fondly as it was the first compliment he had ever paid me – he went so red with embarrassment once he said it and tried to brush it off. I, of course, brought it up most days afterwards.

A sharp pain ran through my chest again at the thought of my friend. He was probably still lying in that shithole of a warehouse, all alone. I wanted to smash my fists against the walls but refrained. I needed to stop thinking about Georgie – it was clouding my judgement and I was afraid of the very real possibility of a breakdown.

Without Ethan here with me, I was a mess.

If I focused on one goal – to treat my gun-wound – I could forget all other thoughts. Thoughts of Ethan... Hugh... Georige...

With that, I put all of my concentration on making it back to the neighbourhood. I needed to find out where I was right now to even begin navigating my way there. It could only be an hour's walk, tops.

My arm was starting to burn so I knew I needed to act fast. I knew how to treat a gun-shot wound. All agents did. It would just be slightly more difficult working on my own one.

I walked for about fifteen minutes until I realised that walking wasn't going to work. I was starting to feel weak and my arm was aching to the point where I was holding back a groan with each step.

I was in a slightly more established area now and I recognised it vaguely from driving through it. I knew that our house was an hour's walk away. But I wouldn't make that - no way. This gunshot wound was impeding any form of progress and even if I couldn't get into my own house, I would go straight over to Jennifer and Harvey.

I needed them to trust me - ask no questions should I arrive at their doorstep with a bullet wound and no explanations.

But first, I needed a car. With a car, I could be there in ten minutes. I looked around the streets that were deserted at this time of night but had plenty of unoccupied cars, parallel parked outside shops with apartments built above them.

I spotted one that I was no stranger to stealing - a Ford Focus. I hadn't seen one in so long it was like a temporary relief to my pain when I walked up to it. I had no option but to smash the window. Focus's weren't known to make much noise so I prayed for no alarm system.

Using the elbow of my good arm, I plunged it against the passenger side's window so to have minimal glass on the driver's seat. No alarm. I breathed a sigh of relief.

I unlocked the door from the inside and once it opened I reached over to unlock the driver's side. I knew how to get these cars up and running without keys - I could do it with ease most times. But with one arm basically out-of-use, it made the job even more difficult with one hand.

After ten fraught minutes of mistakes and fears of someone catching me, the engine released a merciful purr. It was up and ready.

I sped out of there instantly, my thumping heart calming slightly now that I wasn't dependent on my feet as transport anymore.

I was five minutes away from the neighbourhood when a thought hit me - the surveillance van parked a few blocks away from our house, monitoring our every move inside.

Dread filled me as I realised my mistake - I was a fucking idiot not to have thought of it! This was why I needed Ethan with me. He would have thought of that instantly.

The hard, steel exterior of the gun I still had from the warehouse today seemed to become even more prominent in my pocket - as if it was telling me that I didn't have to worry.

But I did have to worry - the agent sitting inside in that surveillance van could be innocent. Just another one of the guys, doing his job. I couldn't shoot one of our own.

I had little time to think it through, however, as the familiar oak trees came into view. I slowed down and passed the normal front exit, taking the back exit to the neighbourhood that very little knew about.

Once I was inside the neighbourhood I parked up about ten minutes away from my house. I couldn't risk an unknown car being spotted by the surveillance van. I was extremely close to it now and I had to plan this carefully. I didn't know how I was going to approach it without being spotted, though.

Had Dawson sent out a notice to have myself and Ethan seized or shot on sight? Or was he more subtle and instead have agents merely notify him once Ethan or I was spotted? It would seem strange to the agency to have its two top agents on the hit list.

We had a lot of friends in this agency - Dawson declaring us as traitors or whatever wouldn't bode well with them. They would do their research - start asking questions. And Dawson wouldn't like that.

I was going to have to take the risk and hope that the agent sitting inside in that van wasn't brainwashed by Dawson's sick agenda and that they didn't have instructions to shoot on sight or anything.

Because that would be fucking shit. One bullet wound was enough for today, thank you very much.

I crept along the walls of the huge houses, my eyes peeled and my hand resting over the gun in my pocket. The neighbourhood watch here was nearly better than half the agents I worked with - another reason why I suspected Dawson wouldn't have this place full of hidden agents. They would be sniffed out instantly by our nosy, bored, in the early stages of a mid-life crisis neighbours.

The white, shiny van came into display after another hundred meters. It claimed to be a gardening company, parking there for advertisement purposes in case anybody got suspicious. Apparently the number on the van had actually being receiving dozens of phone-calls, resulting in the agency having to send out qualified agents under the guises of gardeners.

It was parked on the other side of the road to me. It looked completely deserted but I knew that there was someone sitting in front of five computer screens in the windowless back.

I took a deep breath. This would be the second of my risky and reckless decisions as of late, but I had no other choice. I couldn't get into the house without shutting down the surveillance and I couldn't go on without the medical kit in the house.

I walked confidently up to the van and knocked quietly on one of the back doors. No answer.

"Agent, it's Agent Harry Taylor here to brief you about changing circumstances," I lied, my heartbeat filling my ears and my palms sweating. I had my fingers over the latch of the gun, ready to shoot.

There was no movement for ten seconds and I was about to make a run for it before the door swung open, a frazzled, young looking agent gawping at me.

"Taylor, what are you doing coming up to an undercover vehicle like this? Our situation may be compromised now!"

I was slightly taken-aback by this young chaps accusatory voice but I let it slide - I would be knocking him out in a couple of seconds anyway. Might as well let him get a few words in beforehand.

"Sorry, Agent," I couldn't remember his name, "But it's urgent - let me in quick! As you said, we can't be seen to be talking like this."

He hesitated and I thought that I had been caught out. However, he made room for me to move past his chair and I ducked into the narrow van, unable to stand straight because of how low the ceiling was.

The array of computer screens that showed various parts of our house took up so much room, I was surprised they were able to fit a chair in here too, never mind adding two large agents to that.

"Okay, what is it?" The young agent turned to face me once he had quietly closed the door of the van. The second he faced me I used my good arm to strike him across the head, concussing and knocking him out immediately. He wouldn't wake for a couple of hours - just enough time.

"Sorry, kid," I murmured, pushing him off of the chair he was sitting on and laying him on the ground, taking his seat, "Now, what do we have here..."

The buttons and options confused me but I tried to think back to the computer course we had taken in the agency. I had copied most of my answers off of Ethan during that exam because I thought it was a load of bullshit. I still thought it was a load of bullshit but to a lesser degree now that computing skills were essential in this one circumstance.

It took me fifteen minutes of fiddling with buttons to finally disable the surveillance in the house. I was banking on Dawson using all of his energies on finding me in less conspicuous places to notice the loss of connection.

I still didn't have much time, though. I didn't want to hang around for him to pay a visit.

Once I'd closed the door to the van behind me, I ran as fast as I could to the house. My arm was numbing now and that scared me more than the pain. I reached the front door, located the hidden key under one of numerous unnecessary flower pots and ran into the main hallway.

Once I had disabled the alarm I gave myself a second to breathe. Being here brought a lump to my throat. Being without Ethan in such dangerous circumstances scared me. I was scared I would die alone, without him. I was scared I would never see him again.

We had shared such memorable months here together. And it had all been reduced to this.

I shook my head and wiped my eyes, running up the grand staircase and into the main bedroom. Under the bed was a large suitcase. Ethan had packed it, of course. But I still knew my way around it.

I struggled to lift it onto the bed but once I did I opened it up to reveal dozens of medical equipment and devices.

I spotted the numbing anaesthesia injection and quickly popped the top off of it, jabbing the sharp needle into my wounded arm and injecting the clear liquid. It would take a matter of seconds to work. Especially considering my arm was numbing anyway.

I brought all else I needed into the ensuite bathroom, making use of the huge mirror. I had pliers and tweezers to remove the bullet, anti-infection cream, bandages and a stitching kit. It wasn't ideal but it would have to do.

Once my upper arm was numb I began. It took longer than normal but once I had the bullet out, everything else fell into place. The stitch work wasn't the best in the world but it did the job just fine. I packed a bag of all the medical essentials I would need and found a few hidden weapons around the bedroom I could pack, too.

I put the bag on my back and took one last look around the bedroom. It would probably be the last time I would be in this house. I was already bottling this overwhelming feeling of grief from today's earlier events - I couldn't cope with this, too.

As I went to leave the room a certain item of clothing that hung from the wardrobe became noticeable to me from the slightly ajar door.

Ethan's bullet-proof vest.

I quickly took off my shirt, careful of my arm, and pulled the vest over my head. I decided to change my clothes too once the vest was on since my white shirt was now tattered and bloody but a noise from outside stopped me in my tracks from looking for a new shirt.

Voices. Hushed voices. That wasn't a good sign.

I quickly grabbed my tattered white shirt and pulled it back on, buttoning it up and flinging the bag over my back. My wounded arm gave a painful twinge at the roughness of the movement but I ignored it.

I had to get out of here. Running down the stairs, keeping my ears peeled, I listened. The voices were coming from the front. My gut told me I had been brash in thinking that I wouldn't be found here. Running for the back door I opened it gently, running towards Hugh's back-garden. His house was the end of the block and if I could get out onto the road through his back-garden, I could find a car and head for the highway.

I had packed some spare phones in the bag pack - once I was a safe distance away, I would call Ethan and pray he hadn't already destroyed his phone.

There was a slight opening in the hedge between our back-garden and Hugh's I had found a few weeks ago. I searched for this now, hearing the voices becoming louder. My heart pounded and the overwhelming feeling was barging its way through the barriers I had put up.

I tumbled through the tiny opening once I found it, about to run for the wall at the other side of Hugh's garden and run for the open road. But the headlights of a car stopped me in my tracks. There was a car parked there just behind Hugh's wall.

Was this a mere coincidence or was I being cornered in? I couldn't go out the front because there were people there - people I just knew weren't going to be friendly. The car parked on the other side of the wall was stopping me from going that way. And I had a feeling that if I turned back, it wouldn't be a good move.

A panicked feeling swept through me and before I knew it I was running for Hugh's back door, finding the spare key in the spot he had once told me he hid and creeping into the house. I was out of options - I had to stop and think.

But the longer I thought the longer I realised that I could very well be out of options. The large bubble of that overwhelming feeling was reaching the brim of my tolerance and I knew by the shaking of my hands that my body was physically reacting to the emotions I was unwilling to face.

I tried to suppress the feeling. I tried to keep calm as the minutes passed and the voices didn't go away. I felt paralysed. It wasn't until I was completely still that I heard the dripping noise. Where was it coming from? I looked all over until I spotted the red pool of blood on the ground.

My arm and face were covered in gashes and scratches. I knew straight away it was from running through the unforgiving bushes and brambles between our houses. I had been too focused on staying hidden and alive to even notice the pain.

I was covered in wounds. And, to add to my list of fuck-ups, the stitches had been torn open by a branch it seemed.

Maybe the gap in the hedge hadn't been as prominent as I thought. I tried to cover the gaping gun-shot wound with my other hand, my eyes peeled for any sudden movements from inside the dark house or outside in the garden.

The suffocating feeling was becoming more intense and with everything else that was happening, I felt perilously close to a breakdown.

The silence was killing me but the sound of a voice or a car killed me even more.

I started to relax slightly as the voices went away for a while. But it was short-lived. A voice from right outside the front door had me dropping my arm from my bleeding wound to rest on the gun in my pocket.

"Surely it wasn't Taylor - he wouldn't be stupid enough to come back here," a familiar voice said. It sounded very like someone I knew.

"Kim, God only knows what goes through that boys head. I always said that himself and George were two fucking dimwits. A least one of them is dead – that leaves the other to make stupid decisions like this. Once the agent in the van comes round we can ask him."

Dawson.

"Should I take a look inside Hugh's house, Captain?" Kim, my supposed friend and obvious traitor asked. All this time, she was two-timing us. All of this fucking time.

"Yeah, just to be sure," Dawson replied. Well, I got one thing right. Judging by their tones they seemed gobsmacked at the thought of me coming back here. Which was the reaction I was going for. I just wasn't banking on the prospect of them actually checking.

I was starting to slightly understand Ethan's phrase 'reckless idiot' now...

I heard the lock of the front door being tampered with and my heart stilled. I started to move back into the house, my eyes frantically looking for somewhere to hide.

"He's not home!" a voice suddenly shouted, making me jump.

"Sorry, sir?" Dawson replied.

"I said, Hugh isn't home. He's out of town on business," Harvey's booming voice reduced me to tears as I imagined the curious yet suspicious look on his face of two strangers outside his neighbours house this time of night.

The tampering with the lock ceased.

"Oh... erm, right. Well, thank you sir. We'll be sure to call back," Dawson, obviously peeved at this situation retorted. I heard their footsteps retreating from the front door. If I made it through this, I would have to make it up to Harvey somehow. Even though he had no idea that his nosiness had just saved my life.

Once a couple of seconds had passed and Dawson and Kim's voices were long gone, the full impact of what just happened hit me. Dawson's words, Kim's betrayal and my near-exposure all hit me like a tonne of bricks and I couldn't contain myself any longer.

I flung a vase against the wall of the room I was in and watched it smash into a million pieces. Sweat was dripping from my every pore and the mixture of that and the blood that was flowing from the numerous wounds on my body made me feel physically sick.

My shirt, which had been crisp and strikingly white mere hours ago was now torn in numerous places and stained beyond recognition.

How had this gone so wrong? The plan had been flawless – we had gone through every single detail at least twenty times! We all knew our positions. We all knew what we had to do. We all knew what was at stake!

I strung my fingers through my hair, my hands shaking. What would I do now? My throat was closing up as I racked my brain for my next step. It was pitch dark outside and this was both a positive and a negative.

A positive as I was even more concealed from them – a negative because they were even more concealed from me.

I didn't even know if they knew where I was. Were they still looking for me? They already had one person in a body bag, did they need any more?

This thought brought me to my knees as I dropped my head into my hands.  He was dead – gone. There was nothing I could do to bring him back. A sob left my throat and I slammed my fists against the carpeted floor.

There was a creak from behind me. I was in Hugh's sitting room.

I jumped up from my knees, my eyes wild. I wasn't thinking strategically – I was acting on instinct. My actions no longer had a plan, just a survival instinct.

"Who's there?" I shouted. My voice was hoarse from the shouting I had been doing earlier – when I had ordered them to let me help him. When I had roared at the sound of the bullet smashing through his skull.

"I said who's fucking there?" I repeated, getting angrier. I was in no mood for games anymore. I was done. Either they came out and revealed themselves or they killed me. Simple.

I heard more movement and I knew they were in the dark room with me. I saw a shadow on my left and immediately turned to face them.

"If you're going to kill me just kill me," I snarled.

I wasn't given an answer, only the glint of a gun poised at me, the reflection of the moon shining through the window outlining its shape.

I didn't have time to run or fight. They pulled the safety off of the gun. I didn't have time to even think. They angled it more accurately towards me. I was a dead man. I should have known.

They pulled the trigger and I only felt the pain in my chest for a flittering moment before the world went black.

His gut was always right.

There was so much I wanted to say to him... Words I wouldn't be able to say now. I hoped he would forgive me someday. I hoped he understood.

So this is chapter seventeen... I hadn't planned on ending it at this point but I also hadn't planned on the chapter being this long so I decided that it seemed appropriate!

Once again there are many questions but little answers haha.... We still don't know who was on that audio device with Grant moments before he died... How many agents are in on Dawson's regime? Who texted Ethan in the last chapter? And who just shot Harry?

I feel like I'm writing the premise for an episode of CSI or something xD

The song for this chapter is Bryan Adams' 'Everything I Do'... I imagine they are the words that are going through Harry's head as he is shot in the final scenes of this chapter – everything he would say to Ethan. I've been rereading some of the chapters and I feel like Harry's feelings of protectiveness over Ethan are downplayed by Ethan's blatant protectiveness over Harry... One of the main reasons Harry went through with this plan was to ensure Ethan was safe and that the two of them could go on to live a carefree life. Ethan is on Michael's hit-list too so Harry felt like no other option was available other than the plan they had if he was going to live without constant fear or threat. The words in the song are powerful and it actually made me emotional thinking of Harry saying all of this to Ethan in his head in those final pivotal moments. I kinda welled up at the words 'I'd die for you'... I think I'm getting waaay too emotionally invested in this story xD

I have dedicated this chapter to lxrry_unicorn because your comments just make my life xD I have decided that I will begin dedicating chapters to readers from now on!

Anywaaaaaaaay, please comment with your opinions and guesses – I read all of your comments I promise! I've laughed out loud at your reactions so many times!! Vote if you think this chapter deserves it and chapter eighteen will be here very soon!

Have a good day/night! :)

-O.