Rowan gradually realised that the only sound she could hear was her own sobs. She had no idea how long she'd been cowering against the wall. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Jason. She had to find Jason. Rowan crawled along the wall and got to a crouching position behind a desk. She just stared in horror at the black, Doctor Martin boots that she could see from the floor.
"Shit!" Rowan knocked the desk over completely as she jumped to her feet. "Shit no! Jason!" He was a complete mess. He was battered and bruised and was bleeding from his nose and a myriad of cuts. He was also a horrible dull colour, but he was breathing. Rowan rolled him over and wedged her knees under his head. He was clammy and cold. "Jesus Joseph and Mary, I'm sorry Jason. Jason? Jason can you hear me? Shit." She lay him back on his side and ransacked the crumbling cupboards for something to use as a blanket. There was nothing. Rowan scrambled through the window and tossed the pack lunches through, and a few metal bars. She upended the couch and pushed it against the wall so it blocked three quarters of the window, then she dragged the desk infront of that too. "Jason? Shit man wake up." Rowan got on the floor again. The flickering lights had even stopped now and there were no external windows at all. "Come on, Jason, you're the electrician! You don't want me to have at that generator again do you?" She tugged Jason's leather jacket around him and zipped it up. "There's someone in here with us. I heard him crying about the lights." She glanced at the dormant generator, then shuddered. "Someone left our lunch and someone's wandering about locking doors. Jason they must be terrorists. That's why the policemen didn't send anyone here for us. They've probably shot them. Can you hear me? Please wake up, Jason." Jason's breathing was shallow but steady and Rowan took that to be a good sign. "Someone will find us. We're in Slateskill, did you know that? It's in the middle of nowhere but that's good. It narrows down the places to search, doesn't it?" Rowan wiped some of the blood from Jason's nose. "I'm taking a bloody holiday when we get out of here, I need it. I'll be able to go to your trial and cheer like hell when you get acquitted. Hey if your mum and sister want to go too and support you, I can give them a lift. Yes? I have one of those six seater MPVs and it has a side door especially for wheelchairs. I needed a new car so I bought that one because at the time, a colleague of mine had a lot going on because his neice had been injured in a bad fall. Poor little mite was in a double full plater cast from her waist to both sets of toes." Rowan smiled. "The car was great for taking her out and about in, she was only seven. I used to loan Brian it at weekends." Rowan chattered on, for the sake of her own nerves more than anything else. "Short memory he has, you know. Anally retentive ponce. So are you going to wake up or what? You can't stay in here idling about. OK I'll go visit your mum and sister without you." Jason coughed and frightened the life out of Rowan. He rolled over onto his side and vomited fiercely. "Ack! These jeans cost fifty quid!" Rowan laughed and helped Jason roll the other way out of the puddle of puke.
"I'll make sure the electric meter is full if you're going visiting on your own." Jason gasped and tried to sit up. "Who are you? Bloody Magneto?"
"Who? He didn't do electricity." Rowan sniffed. "Anyway you came charging in like bloody Rambo! I was terrified!"
"Rambo my arse! Rambo wouldn't have fell over the sodding couch." Jason rubbed his temples. "I feel like shit." He muttered groggily.
"I thought you were dead." Rowan mumbled. "I thought I'd killed you."
"Pfft." Jason looked up and smiled weakly, trying to focus his blurry eyesight. "Like I said, Rambo's arse. I'm more your Chuck Norris type of bloke."
"Someone's keeping us here." Rowan ripped the hem off her t-shirt and Jason held out his cut covered arm. "Terrorists and they must have shot Terry and the policemen." Rowan ignored Jason's arm and began dressing the burn on her own arm. "We're in Slateskill! I found some old notepaper with it on. They're bound to look here eventually, Jason. It's the only building for miles."
"Slateskill. I did wonder that when I first saw the place." Jason wafted Rowan out of the way and vomited again. "Bollocks." He rested his pounding head against the wall. "Well they're keeping us here by getting us lost in the place so that means there isn't alot of them. If there was, then we'd be guarded. Come on."
"Get a grip, Jason. You can hardly stand up and I'm not big enough to cart you about. We'll have to stay here, at least until you feel better." Rowan sat down, away from the vomit.
"Can't argue with that." Jason squinted at Rowan. "So what happened in here?" Rowan explained as best she could without making herself out to be a hysterical nut-case. "Shit. Criminals or not, that's just pure torture." Jason nodded. "So how many lights were there?"
"Wh ... what?" Rowan felt a wave of panic wash over here. "F ... four." She looked around the room in terror. "Four! There were four!"
"Hey, hey. It's OK." Jason staggered over and managed to settle Rowan down a bit. "It doesn't matter. OK? Shit how effective is that eh?"
"Jason I heard someone else. I did! Another voice was crying and begging me to say four to spare him any more pain." Rowan nodded. "Not in my head, not in my imagination, I heard it. It was a man's voice and he was dying. He asked God to forgive me." Rowan hung her head.
"OK it's gone, Rowan. Whatever it was it was done purposely. OK? I don't know what sort of sick arseholes are holding us here but they're sick enough to make you hear that crap. No one's dying here, Rowan, you can see that. No one was getting that current, it wasn't hurting anyone at all, except that bloody awful noise it was making. Ugh!" Jason rubbed his eyes. "Let their God forgive them, because I won't."
"Jason, at the end, just before you came in, I really did think I could see four lights." Rowan said quietly.
"Gone. Done with. Four, five, six, twenty six. Probably the crappy computer over there anyway. It's older than the one in my house and that's saying something."
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