Rating: Teen (for violence)
Spoilers: up to ep2x01
Summary: They don't know why, but they still run. Written for the Horror Homage ARC challenge.
A/N: Thanks to rodlox and fififolle for betareading.
Jenny had always been top of her P.E. classes at school; her talent for sprinting in particular was what had got her a spot on the hockey team even though her aim with a stick had been rather variable at the time. She also had no trouble with wearing heels the full 9-5 working day. Sprinting in heels was, however, another matter.
It was slightly comforting to know Nick was behind her, but not because it was Nick per se as it was the extremely selfish feeling of being oddly pleased there was another person between her and the hordes of savages behind them both.
One minute they'd been under control just like they'd been for the first half an hour or so of contact - confused, out of time but manageable - and the next there had been blood curdling screams, primal, animalistic sounds from within the throng. All she'd really been able to make out was a flash of the neon vest in among hands scrabbling at the poor person – one of the policemen herding the Neanderthals - or whatever they were, it wasn't like she knew or cared to - had been drawn in and taken down.
She should have gotten them out of there as soon as they'd arrived at the anomaly site but it had been too public and they – she – hadn't anticipated the scene they'd witnessed when they'd stepped out of the car; floods of scraggy, shaggy and probably smelly prehistoric people displaced in time.
She'd tried to look back as Nick had shoved her along, urging her to start running NOW. All semblance of order was lost and it was more than just crowd jostling going on. The policemen were gripped, pulled in and ripped to shreds; she could see a river of blood in the gutter already and then Special Forces started firing. Chaos broke loose in a street in Wolverhampton and suddenly she was running for her life. 100M dash for the nearest car – win or die.
She reaches the car first and scrambles at the handle, once, twice, it's locked – why, why had she even bothered with so many police in the vicinity? She looks back to Nick, he's going as fast as he can, fumbling for the keys at the same time but it slows him down. There's the beep of the immobilizer turning off and scraping of bolts withdrawn. She grabs the handle again and it graciously gives in now. She slips in, across to the driver seat. The first chance she'd had to catch her breath, it comes fast, urgent and she has to fight the urge to shut the door, shut herself in and away from everything she wishes was purely in the background and not at all happening. But it is, and Nick is still running, towards her, towards salvation. A toss of the keys and she fires up the engine, whilst he slams awkwardly, painfully through the gap, falling roughly into the passenger seat.
As they're driving away, Nick's feet half hanging out of the open door, the sound of shellfire stops finally but the screaming doesn't.