ACROSS BROKEN GLASS

Chapter Eleven: The Unlikely Duo

The sweat beads rolled down her forehead relentlessly, her back was pressed firmly against the wall, her gun tightly gripped in her hand. Her breathing was rapid and short; she twisted her head around the corner of the wall and peered around. Her green eyes darted in every direction, searching out her victim like an animal - something moved in the corner of her eye. Without pausing a second she twisted herself out of the corner into the open and pulled her gun closer to her body. Her back was once again firmly pressed against the wall.

Where is he?! She thought to herself.

Her partner and Uncle, James, was meant to be here by now, he had only gone around the back to make sure the man they were after hadn’t escaped. She had heard no gunshots or the sound of a struggle, which meant that the man was still inside the warehouse. Nevertheless, she couldn’t find him, or at least any sign that he had been there.

Silently, she began to inch along, her body tight against the wall, her footsteps slow and meaningful, her eyes focused in front of her, scanning the construction site.

It was the perfect place for a psychopath to hide; the construction work in the warehouse had long since been abandoned, along with the company who owned it. Crates, tools, and large pieces of metal now lay used on the floor, dust collecting on them.

The man they were after was a man by the name of Benedict; he was a mysterious rich old man who had spent the past few years torturing and murdering dozens of people in warehouses. No one knew why he did it, but when it had been uncovered and all over the news, the few people who knew him couldn’t say they didn’t believe it.

He wasn’t married, but had one daughter; she was a spitting image of him, even in his old age. Mariette, her name was, and ever since the media had uncovered her father’s secret she had disappeared, presumed to have run off with him.

“Florence!” a familiar voice suddenly called out to her. She spun around, her long blonde hair in its ponytail swung around with her. Her favorite gun was still gripped tightly in her hands, a lifeline. She breathed a sigh of relief at the person in front of her.

Her Uncle James stood before her, and even though he wasn’t her biological Uncle she didn’t care. He had raised her from a young age and she adored him, he had taught her everything she knew, not to mention the stories about her past. Her parents were long gone and even though she knew that it was a simple matter of time travel and she could see them again, she knew she wasn’t allowed to.

James was around fifty years of age, with thick square rimmed glasses, side burns and grey hair. He had bright blue eyes that could be the calmest of blues and in an instant could be the iciest.

In his left hand was a single pistol, in his right hand, which was close to his face, was a small handheld computer which no doubt had the current readings of the warehouse flashing up at him. On his left wrist was a small leather wristband, to most people this wristband was nothing special, but to those who knew better, they signified he was a Time Agent. Or at least he used to be.

Florence wore a similar, slightly smaller; wristband on her own left wrist, a silver star sown into the top right corner of the flap. It was a mark of great honor only awarded to one person in each graduating class, she had won it easily for she was simply the best in her class, even though she was youngest.

“Any sign of him?” she asked her Uncle as she lowered her gun and began to walk towards him.

He shook his head in response, his eyebrows knit together in concentration as he tried to understand the readings on the screen.

“According to this, we are the only two sources of heat in this entire room…” James explained, once she stood by his side, her shoulder slightly pressed against his.

“That doesn’t make any sense, we saw him in here only fifteen minutes ago, no sign of teleportation… according to my wrist strap and no one has entered or exited the building…” she stated as she looked up from the device around the room and then back to screen.

“I know, it doesn’t make sense, he has to still be here.”

“Hopefully with that daughter of his, I have a few things to say to her when I get my hands on her.”

James nodded in agreement before pocketing his tracker seeing as it had become redundant in the current situation.

“So what do we do now?” Florence asked, looking up at her Uncle in search of guidance.

“I guess we could…” he began, only to be interrupted by the sound of a gun cocking behind him.

“TURN AROUND, BOTH OF YOU, HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!” a bitter voice called out to them, harsh labored breathing following.

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