Chapter 8
When she woke up, Kate was lying on a hard surface, something soft under her head. A cushion. She tried to speak and Ouch. That did not feel pleasant.
All at once she sensed a body at her side, and a familiar face was hovering over her, full of concern. She smiled dreamily, tried to say “Hawkeye”. But then Ouch. She should have remembered that.
“Hey, hey it’s okay, you’re alright. Don’t try to talk, just nod or shake your head. You feel okay?”
Nod. Relief on his face. That lovely, squishy face.
“You know where you are?”. She frowned. Then she nodded. Then she frowned again, and tried to look around herself in confusion. Wasn’t she dead? She went to try speak again, but remembered herself in time. Damn it would be handy to know sign language right now.
“You know, I’m starting to think Maya was right and I should learn more sign language”, Clint held out his hand to her, “Here, sit up”.
He helped her up and she looked around, rubbing her throat. The first thing she noticed was the body of their host, sprawled flat out on the floor halfway across the room. Two arrows sticking out of his neck. Her two tranq. arrows that she’d failed to hit him with? She looked questioningly at Clint as he walked back toward her, glass of water in one hand, ice pack in the other.
“We’re in luck, apparently the only things our buddy here keeps in his freezer are ice packs and vodka.”
She smiled weakly, took a sip of the water, winced as she swallowed. Clint gently held the ice pack to her neck. “What happened?” She managed to croak out.
“Oh that?”, Clint tilted his head towards Barnes’ prone form. “Guess he didn’t rate me as enough of a threat to watch his six. At least we answered the question on whether the tranq arrows would work on him. Not an instant knock out though I would note.”
Kate took in the smashed tv and dent in the wall, the way Clint was holding himself somewhat awkwardly, as if trying not to place his weight in the wrong places.
“Thanks”, she whispered.
“Well, yeah”, Clint said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “Is now a good time to say I told you so? I thought we agreed we weren’t going to try jumping the guy Kate? He could’ve killed you.”
There was genuine anger and concern in Clint’s voice. Kate would have felt guilty if she didn’t feel so indignant.
“I told you so!”, she rage-whispered, her throat aching but not enough to made her care, “I told you we couldn’t trust him! And now look-”, she said, her voice failing her at the end. She coughed, sipped some more water, eyes stinging as she glared at Clint.
Clint opened his mouth, but was interrupted by a groan from across the floor. Kate’s stomach turned and her eyes darted over to look at Barnes. Still just lying there, but that wasn’t making her feel any better right now. “Shit, that’s not lasting long,”, Clint half muttered to himself and stood up. Kate sipped from her water bottle as she watched Clint pat down Barnes and remove what looked like two knives hidden under his clothes. “What the hell are you playing at?” she heard Clint ask.
Her mind started to wander as Clint rooted through the gear he’d left in the living room when they arrived, and then started to tie up Barnes with a rappel cable. Someone had tried to kill her. Not for the first time this week, she had to admit but this time...she’d really thought she was going to die. It felt strangely anticlimactic. She started to shiver involuntarily.
“And lets just hope that’s strong enough,” Clint muttered, half to himself, as he finished hog-tying Barnes and stood back up. Once again Kate found herself wondering who the hell this creepy dude was.
“Now that that’s done,”, Clint turned back to her, “Want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?” And oh shit. With all the excitement of almost dying, Kate had almost forgotten about the body in the closet.