Post by Michelle on Apr 7, 2007 16:51:36 GMT
This is my first ever attempt at serious fiction. This is a work of fiction based on the characters in the C4 series The Ghost Squad. These characters are not mine - I have just borrowed them, and am making no profit from them. Due to the adult nature of the GS series there are some profanities included and Rosie or Lily may want to edit where necessary. I'll leave it up to you guys.
The stench filled Pete’s nostrils, an acrid, damp stink which seemed to envelop him. How long had he been trapped here. At the beginning he’d tried to keep track, had counted the days, minutes even, but that’s when he’d had hopes of being rescued. Hope was the last emotion he’d held onto and even that was fast deserting him now. They’d probably already given him up for dead, he imagined them arranging his funeral and tears filled his eyes. That’s good he thought, that’s good. Any emotion was good, meant he was still alive. If Pete was a wreck emotionally, then physically he was in even worse shape. He knew two of his ribs were broken, he could feel them with every breath. Spending so long in darkness meant his vision was suffering, he could barely see. His jaw didn’t feel so good either - he’d not seen that bit of 2 by 4 coming at him. Amy would rip the p**s out of him for being caught out like that. A rookies mistake being blindsided that way. Thinking of Amy brought a smile to his face but the pain in his broken cheekbone meant it didn’t last long. The worst thing was that he didn’t even know who was holding him. He couldn‘t remember a thing, just vague recollections of a man - he was sure it was a man…too strong for a woman…carrying him…then dragging him…hitting his head on concrete…steps maybe…he couldn’t be sure…he‘d been drifting in and out of conciousness….blood dripping into his eyes obscuring his vision. Mostly he just remembered pain. He knew he was chained by his left ankle to a wall but only because he couldn’t feel his foot….it was numb… which in a way was good because at least it didn’t bloody hurt. He was sure that once a day someone brought food and pushed it thru a box in the bottom of the door…he knew he couldn’t be imagining this because he was still alive so he must be getting fluids. He was sure the food was bread and in moments of lucidity he knew there was some significance in his jailer giving him bread and water. It was obviously some sick clue to his identity, Pete just wished the git would give him enough food to help him concentrate, then he might be able to think straight. He was sure that he could hear laughing at times but couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t hallucinating. If he could just think straight, he knew the drill, make the kidnapper see you as a human being, personalise the relationship, appeal to their humanity…right now Pete would like to appeal to the back of their head with a baseball bat. If only the bloody manual gave instructions on how to get the t**t to feed you.
The clang of the door brought him to the present and through his half open eyes he could just make out a hand pass through the water and then the bread. If only he had more strength he’d be able to grab that hand and he knew that it wouldn’t get him out of there but he’d enjoy snapping every damn finger. Anger - that was good as well - anger would keep him alive far longer than any other emotion. Bread and water, bread and water…it was someone he’d put away. That was the trouble with his job- he’d put away so many villains and most of them wore a uniform. Suddenly, being a teacher like his Mam had wanted didn’t seem such a bad idea.
He forced himself to concentrate, it was getting more and more difficult by the day. His thoughts were jumbled and he could barely remember his own name. It was October or it had been October…he’d been chasing Amy - that’s right…the bitch…she’d hit him with a bottle, he chuckled to himself, once again glad to be feeling some other emotion than pain. That was the gash on his head. He began to question his memories…maybe he hadn’t been hit by a piece of wood….he’d been so sure but maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. He’d left McKay’s office, followed Amy to the door….to the lift….watched her go….then nothingness. A shot of fear ran through him, what if they’d got Amy as well. That thought chilled him to the bone mainly because he wanted her out there looking for him. If anyone could find him it would be Amy and he knew she wouldn’t give up looking…she’d never give up on him…he knew it. He drifted back into unconciousness with Amy’s name on his lips.
“I said CONTAIN him not half kill him, you bloody fool. Clean him up and get a doctor, for gods sake”
Voices? Was he dreaming again or were there really voices? It had been so long since he’d heard anything he could barely distinguish between male and female. He tried to open his eyes but they were so heavy....
“Is he awake, is he fecking awake? You stupid incompetent little man. Give him more....you can’t move him if he’s conscious”
“Too much of this will kill him”
“Then give him just the right amount…that’s what I’m paying you for.”
Anticipation of death is worse than death itself….Anticipation of death is worse than death itself.
Pete could hear it over and over again….he couldn’t be sure if they were his own words or someone elses...his own thoughts....his own imagination playing tricks on him or what. And he couldn’t stay awake long enough to work it out. He felt feeble and out of control…..useless and impotent. He almost wished they’d just get it over with and finish him off because anticipation of death really was worse than death itself.
“He trusts me”
Trust…them…..Petes instincts kicked in, trust....he knew he had to remember that. He knew them?
Something damp on his lips....sharp pain in his throat.....coughing.....Pete knew it was him but it was as if it were happening to someone else. He couldn’t feel his body, he felt out of control once more. The smell was different but in it's own way just as awful.....bleach...disinfectant...not the same place. He sank back into oblivion again.
“Pete it’s okay, you’re safe now.” The soft Irish lilt... the smell …it was Amy. He knew the tears were falling…..he didn’t care…..if Amy was here then he was safe…he knew she’d find him.
"The doctors think you’ve been drugged Pete…they’re clearing it out of your system. Try and sleep…I’m right here."
Opening his eyes was painful....the bright lights were too much...turn the bloody lights off. As the lights dimmed he realised that he'd actually spoken out loud....the first words he'd uttered in what could be months for all he knew. His vision slowly cleared and he could see Amy leaning over him, her face etched with worry and concern.
"Pete? How you feeling mate?"
Her mouth was breaking into a smile...he knew that was a good sign...he must be looking better...unless she was turned on by men who looked on the verge of death.
"You're smiling Pete, you're bloody smiling, I knew you'd come through, I bloody well knew it" Amy was laughing now and Pete was sure he could see her blink back tears.
"You're in hospital Pete"
"I knew that" he said
"Ahh well good to see all those years of training to be a detective paid off then" she laughed
He had so many questions for her, so many things to tell her, but right now he just wanted to look at her and feel her hand in his. Being deprived of human contact had been the worst thing during his captivity...worse than the pain and worse than the fear. "Isolation can make a man lose his mind". He was talking out loud again.
"You's was alright then mate...you were already mad" Amy was laughing again.
He knew she was trying to hide her concern with smart remarks.
"I'm ok Amy, really I am." He was relieved to find that he could squeeze her hand. He tried to move the rest of his body and winced with pain from his foot.
"Hey, slow down, your foot was chained Pete, it will take a while for the swelling to go down. I'll get the nurse to bring you more pain killers."
"NO!" He didn't want any more drugs..he needed to be alert even if it meant being in pain.
"You said I was drugged? What was it?"
"Rohypnol Pete. We found a glass in there with you...it had traces of the drug still in it..they must have been keeping you sedated with it."
It made sense....the drifting in and out of conciousness....the inability to concentrate.
"How long was I there?"
"15 days" Her smile was gone.....she was looking worried again. He stopped asking questions...he wanted her to smile again.
"It felt like longer....much longer" Pete closed his eyes still holding Amy's hand, picturing her smile, he needed to hold on to that smile.
Thankyou guys, you're all so lovely and possibly the most encouraging people I've ever met in my life. Wish I'd had you guys watching over me when I was doing my exams at school LOL LOL
The hand on his arm...the light being shone in his eyes…it was all too familiar and he didn’t like it.
“Obs right?” he mumbled still half asleep
“Just checking that the drugs have completely cleared your system Pete” The Nurse was kindly, reminded him of his Aunt Vi but he would have preferred to be woken up by the young blonde nurse from earlier.
“How’s my head?” his eyes still closed. He could still pretend she was a young blonde
The nurse looked a little puzzled then a flicker of recognition…”Oh the injury from the bottle. That’s healed nicely although I’d recommend you refrain from upsetting any more young ladies.” she laughed.
Pete opened his eyes, trying to focus “No, where I was hit by the wood, when I was knocked unconscious”
She looked puzzled again and reached for his chart. “You didn’t have a head injury Pete, maybe you’re confused, things will be a little jumbled up there for a while.” She pointed to his head and still smiling replaced the chart and walked away.
Maybe she was right he thought, his memories were still jumbled, a result of the massive doses of rohypnol he’d been given. He might never regain the memory of being taken and that irked him…he just wanted everything in it’s place... everything in order. He hated not being able to remember…made him feel out of control again and that took him right back to his cell. He didn’t want to go back there... didn’t want to remember the feeling of impotence…..the fear. He closed his eyes again expecting sleep to come but the drugs were definitely clearing…..his brain was ticking over and sleep eluded him.
The more he tried to remember, the more jumbled and confused everything became, his head was beginning to thump and when he tried to swallow it felt like razorblades. He needed a drink…he was used to drinking massive amounts of coffee every day….it suddenly occurred to him that he’d not had any desire for coffee since he’d come round and when he tried to think back he’d not craved the caffeine boost even when he was being held. Infact the thought of coffee made him feel sick. One less vice he told himself, now if he could just kick the smoking, drinking and loose women he’d be a clean living lad, a boring lad, but one that would live to see a hundred. He considered whether he’d actually want to live to a hundred without any vices, decided it was a boring way to live and fell asleep determined to start up his caffeine addiction once again as soon as he got out of hospital.
“You’re lucky to be getting any of this” she glared handing the man a brown envelope. “Do you have any idea how seriously screwed up this could have got if you’d let him die? 30 years minimum for the premeditated murder of a serving police officer, you fool. Thank your lucky stars you’re getting anything . Now get out and disappear, book a flight somewhere, I don‘t care where, just leave the bloody country and stay out of my sight.” He placed the envelope in his pocket remaining silent knowing it was better that way. He headed for the parade of shops as her car pulled away. He didn’t see the car coming until he was flying through the air. The irony wasn’t lost on him as his broken body shattered the travel agents windows.
The stench filled Pete’s nostrils, an acrid, damp stink which seemed to envelop him. How long had he been trapped here. At the beginning he’d tried to keep track, had counted the days, minutes even, but that’s when he’d had hopes of being rescued. Hope was the last emotion he’d held onto and even that was fast deserting him now. They’d probably already given him up for dead, he imagined them arranging his funeral and tears filled his eyes. That’s good he thought, that’s good. Any emotion was good, meant he was still alive. If Pete was a wreck emotionally, then physically he was in even worse shape. He knew two of his ribs were broken, he could feel them with every breath. Spending so long in darkness meant his vision was suffering, he could barely see. His jaw didn’t feel so good either - he’d not seen that bit of 2 by 4 coming at him. Amy would rip the p**s out of him for being caught out like that. A rookies mistake being blindsided that way. Thinking of Amy brought a smile to his face but the pain in his broken cheekbone meant it didn’t last long. The worst thing was that he didn’t even know who was holding him. He couldn‘t remember a thing, just vague recollections of a man - he was sure it was a man…too strong for a woman…carrying him…then dragging him…hitting his head on concrete…steps maybe…he couldn’t be sure…he‘d been drifting in and out of conciousness….blood dripping into his eyes obscuring his vision. Mostly he just remembered pain. He knew he was chained by his left ankle to a wall but only because he couldn’t feel his foot….it was numb… which in a way was good because at least it didn’t bloody hurt. He was sure that once a day someone brought food and pushed it thru a box in the bottom of the door…he knew he couldn’t be imagining this because he was still alive so he must be getting fluids. He was sure the food was bread and in moments of lucidity he knew there was some significance in his jailer giving him bread and water. It was obviously some sick clue to his identity, Pete just wished the git would give him enough food to help him concentrate, then he might be able to think straight. He was sure that he could hear laughing at times but couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t hallucinating. If he could just think straight, he knew the drill, make the kidnapper see you as a human being, personalise the relationship, appeal to their humanity…right now Pete would like to appeal to the back of their head with a baseball bat. If only the bloody manual gave instructions on how to get the t**t to feed you.
The clang of the door brought him to the present and through his half open eyes he could just make out a hand pass through the water and then the bread. If only he had more strength he’d be able to grab that hand and he knew that it wouldn’t get him out of there but he’d enjoy snapping every damn finger. Anger - that was good as well - anger would keep him alive far longer than any other emotion. Bread and water, bread and water…it was someone he’d put away. That was the trouble with his job- he’d put away so many villains and most of them wore a uniform. Suddenly, being a teacher like his Mam had wanted didn’t seem such a bad idea.
He forced himself to concentrate, it was getting more and more difficult by the day. His thoughts were jumbled and he could barely remember his own name. It was October or it had been October…he’d been chasing Amy - that’s right…the bitch…she’d hit him with a bottle, he chuckled to himself, once again glad to be feeling some other emotion than pain. That was the gash on his head. He began to question his memories…maybe he hadn’t been hit by a piece of wood….he’d been so sure but maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. He’d left McKay’s office, followed Amy to the door….to the lift….watched her go….then nothingness. A shot of fear ran through him, what if they’d got Amy as well. That thought chilled him to the bone mainly because he wanted her out there looking for him. If anyone could find him it would be Amy and he knew she wouldn’t give up looking…she’d never give up on him…he knew it. He drifted back into unconciousness with Amy’s name on his lips.
“I said CONTAIN him not half kill him, you bloody fool. Clean him up and get a doctor, for gods sake”
Voices? Was he dreaming again or were there really voices? It had been so long since he’d heard anything he could barely distinguish between male and female. He tried to open his eyes but they were so heavy....
“Is he awake, is he fecking awake? You stupid incompetent little man. Give him more....you can’t move him if he’s conscious”
“Too much of this will kill him”
“Then give him just the right amount…that’s what I’m paying you for.”
Anticipation of death is worse than death itself….Anticipation of death is worse than death itself.
Pete could hear it over and over again….he couldn’t be sure if they were his own words or someone elses...his own thoughts....his own imagination playing tricks on him or what. And he couldn’t stay awake long enough to work it out. He felt feeble and out of control…..useless and impotent. He almost wished they’d just get it over with and finish him off because anticipation of death really was worse than death itself.
“He trusts me”
Trust…them…..Petes instincts kicked in, trust....he knew he had to remember that. He knew them?
Something damp on his lips....sharp pain in his throat.....coughing.....Pete knew it was him but it was as if it were happening to someone else. He couldn’t feel his body, he felt out of control once more. The smell was different but in it's own way just as awful.....bleach...disinfectant...not the same place. He sank back into oblivion again.
“Pete it’s okay, you’re safe now.” The soft Irish lilt... the smell …it was Amy. He knew the tears were falling…..he didn’t care…..if Amy was here then he was safe…he knew she’d find him.
"The doctors think you’ve been drugged Pete…they’re clearing it out of your system. Try and sleep…I’m right here."
Opening his eyes was painful....the bright lights were too much...turn the bloody lights off. As the lights dimmed he realised that he'd actually spoken out loud....the first words he'd uttered in what could be months for all he knew. His vision slowly cleared and he could see Amy leaning over him, her face etched with worry and concern.
"Pete? How you feeling mate?"
Her mouth was breaking into a smile...he knew that was a good sign...he must be looking better...unless she was turned on by men who looked on the verge of death.
"You're smiling Pete, you're bloody smiling, I knew you'd come through, I bloody well knew it" Amy was laughing now and Pete was sure he could see her blink back tears.
"You're in hospital Pete"
"I knew that" he said
"Ahh well good to see all those years of training to be a detective paid off then" she laughed
He had so many questions for her, so many things to tell her, but right now he just wanted to look at her and feel her hand in his. Being deprived of human contact had been the worst thing during his captivity...worse than the pain and worse than the fear. "Isolation can make a man lose his mind". He was talking out loud again.
"You's was alright then mate...you were already mad" Amy was laughing again.
He knew she was trying to hide her concern with smart remarks.
"I'm ok Amy, really I am." He was relieved to find that he could squeeze her hand. He tried to move the rest of his body and winced with pain from his foot.
"Hey, slow down, your foot was chained Pete, it will take a while for the swelling to go down. I'll get the nurse to bring you more pain killers."
"NO!" He didn't want any more drugs..he needed to be alert even if it meant being in pain.
"You said I was drugged? What was it?"
"Rohypnol Pete. We found a glass in there with you...it had traces of the drug still in it..they must have been keeping you sedated with it."
It made sense....the drifting in and out of conciousness....the inability to concentrate.
"How long was I there?"
"15 days" Her smile was gone.....she was looking worried again. He stopped asking questions...he wanted her to smile again.
"It felt like longer....much longer" Pete closed his eyes still holding Amy's hand, picturing her smile, he needed to hold on to that smile.
Thankyou guys, you're all so lovely and possibly the most encouraging people I've ever met in my life. Wish I'd had you guys watching over me when I was doing my exams at school LOL LOL
The hand on his arm...the light being shone in his eyes…it was all too familiar and he didn’t like it.
“Obs right?” he mumbled still half asleep
“Just checking that the drugs have completely cleared your system Pete” The Nurse was kindly, reminded him of his Aunt Vi but he would have preferred to be woken up by the young blonde nurse from earlier.
“How’s my head?” his eyes still closed. He could still pretend she was a young blonde
The nurse looked a little puzzled then a flicker of recognition…”Oh the injury from the bottle. That’s healed nicely although I’d recommend you refrain from upsetting any more young ladies.” she laughed.
Pete opened his eyes, trying to focus “No, where I was hit by the wood, when I was knocked unconscious”
She looked puzzled again and reached for his chart. “You didn’t have a head injury Pete, maybe you’re confused, things will be a little jumbled up there for a while.” She pointed to his head and still smiling replaced the chart and walked away.
Maybe she was right he thought, his memories were still jumbled, a result of the massive doses of rohypnol he’d been given. He might never regain the memory of being taken and that irked him…he just wanted everything in it’s place... everything in order. He hated not being able to remember…made him feel out of control again and that took him right back to his cell. He didn’t want to go back there... didn’t want to remember the feeling of impotence…..the fear. He closed his eyes again expecting sleep to come but the drugs were definitely clearing…..his brain was ticking over and sleep eluded him.
The more he tried to remember, the more jumbled and confused everything became, his head was beginning to thump and when he tried to swallow it felt like razorblades. He needed a drink…he was used to drinking massive amounts of coffee every day….it suddenly occurred to him that he’d not had any desire for coffee since he’d come round and when he tried to think back he’d not craved the caffeine boost even when he was being held. Infact the thought of coffee made him feel sick. One less vice he told himself, now if he could just kick the smoking, drinking and loose women he’d be a clean living lad, a boring lad, but one that would live to see a hundred. He considered whether he’d actually want to live to a hundred without any vices, decided it was a boring way to live and fell asleep determined to start up his caffeine addiction once again as soon as he got out of hospital.
“You’re lucky to be getting any of this” she glared handing the man a brown envelope. “Do you have any idea how seriously screwed up this could have got if you’d let him die? 30 years minimum for the premeditated murder of a serving police officer, you fool. Thank your lucky stars you’re getting anything . Now get out and disappear, book a flight somewhere, I don‘t care where, just leave the bloody country and stay out of my sight.” He placed the envelope in his pocket remaining silent knowing it was better that way. He headed for the parade of shops as her car pulled away. He didn’t see the car coming until he was flying through the air. The irony wasn’t lost on him as his broken body shattered the travel agents windows.
