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Five grit their teeth through the pain, tears prickling at the corners of their eyes. They looked down at their ankle, which was quickly turning a sickening shade of purple. They’d been hurt worse before, but damn a sprained ankle was both inconvenient and horribly painful.
They looked at their surroundings. Dark, damp. So, not too different from any other place I’ve found myself trapped in in this godforsaken apocalypse , they thought bitterly. At least there didn’t seem to be any zombies or immediate threats.
A voice that made their blood boil crackled through their headset.
“Legs? Runner Five, do you copy? Looks like you fell off the face of the earth there!”
Valmont .
Five wrinkled their nose and looked up at the hole in the ceiling above them. Planks of rotten wood hung weakly down, seeming to say ‘ oops, sorry… we haven’t been a functional floor in about 10 years… but what can you do?’
Five knew this building had looked unstable. Sam would have noticed too. He wouldn’t have made any of his runners go in there unless it was absolutely necessary. And even then, he wouldn’t have let any of them go in alone.
But this seemed more like a game to Valmont. He didn’t need Five to run for supplies. He had the world's remaining resources at his fingertips it seemed. He’d just always been dazzled by the “daring-doo” of Abel’s runners, particularly Runner Five. As far as Valmont was concerned, Five was just another action hero from one of the blockbuster films he loved so dearly. Not a person, with feelings and very sprainable ankles. It was disgusting.
“Ah there you are!” Valmont’s voice exclaimed triumphantly. Five noticed a little red light in the corner. Must be a camera. They glared.
“Oh, don’t be like that! You’ve been in worse scrapes!”
Five gestured meaningfully down at their ankle, which was not quite broken, but was definitely looking unfortunate.
“Hm,” Valmont muttered, “Can you run on it?”
Five held up two very choice fingers toward the red dot.
“Very unsavory Five, but I’ve always loved how fiery you are,” Valmont chuckled, before his voice turned to ice, “Do try though. The group that used this mall was a hub for all sorts of juicy underground information. That is before they were all tragically wiped out by a bug. I would love to get my hands on some of those flash drives, but I would hate to have to force your hand. I wonder if I have any agents near Venice at the moment…”
Alarm bells sounded in Five’s head. Five knew Abel was looking for them, simply because Valmont kept moving them to some other corner of the globe as soon as someone got too close for his comfort. That also meant that Valmont knew exactly where Five’s friends were at any given moment. That’s why Five hadn’t run away yet. That’s why they hadn’t fought their way out. Valmont could snap his fingers and Abel could be gone in an instant.
So instead they gritted their teeth, bided their time, and did whatever heroic busy work Valmont had saved up for them; because as long as they put up with this, as long as they could entertain Valmont, his attention would be turned away from Abel. Abel would be safe. That was the deal.
Five squeezed their eyes shut and took a deep breath, bracing themselves on their hands and knees. They pushed themselves up onto their good leg, and gingerly tried a step with their sprained ankle. Pain instantly shot up through their leg, and they stumbled to the ground once more, scraping their hands on the rough gravel floor. Tears welled in their eyes. They bit their lip, steeling their nerves to try again. The names of the people they loved cycled through their brain, Sam, Janine, Jody, Peter, Sara, Maxine, Paula, Amelia-
“No matter. We can resume this search tomorrow,” Valmont’s voice sighed over Five's headset, getting bored with his game, “I’ll send someone over to pick you up. Don’t want my prize runner injuring themselves further, now do I?”
Five collapsed, frustrated with everything, but not letting any tears fall. I’ll make it back to you all somehow. I promise.