THERE WAS A THICK FOG all around him on that street. Martin ran tired and tripping over his own feet, in the fog. He was running away from something, looking back whenever he could, to try to find out if he was being followed, but he couldn't even tell what or who was following him. This circumstance was extremely desperate, causing him terrible agony as he realized his inability.
But he kept running, because he was also chasing something. That was what intrigued him the most. He knew he needed to find out what it was as soon as possible, or he would be caught by what he was running away from...
And it would be too late...
He was running away from something he didn't know and chasing something he didn't know, and the mysterious fog prevented him from seeing what was ahead and behind. Distressed, he kept moving forward, panting, even though he could only see the asphalt beneath his feet.
At a certain point in his career, he suddenly heard a noise very close by, which made him stop in fear. The sound was muffled and very low, and was not intelligible; Martin could not identify it, but the noise grew and gained in tone, becoming louder and clearer. He heard something shattering in front of him and on all sides. And it kept on buzzing, like so many pieces of glass shattering on the floor.
Obstinate, much more than any fear could frighten him, he began to run towards where he believed to be the origin of everything. His effort was so great that he was short of air in his lungs.
The desperate situation lasted a few seconds and the sound, which resembled the tinkling of broken glass, was no longer so distant, nor so sharp, it was no longer so cutting , it took the form of a resounding...
Like a siren, yes, a siren, and it was already perfectly audible...
With a heavy sigh, Martin opened his eyes. When his corneas were able to resume their work and identify what was in front of him, he saw himself above the dashboard of his car, amid the shards of what was left of his windshield. Many white and red lights, as well as blue ones, were flashing and transforming the previously gloomy and somber environment into something voluminous and illuminated.
The young agent found himself motionless amid the wreckage of the crashed car. Blood was running down his forehead and dripping in front of his eyes, falling onto the dashboard and sliding down to meet the puddle that had formed on the carpet from his wound in the stomach.
Ahhhrg !
Then he felt his stomach hurt.
Everything went dark again. There was no more fog, just pitch black, and distant, deep voices, nervous, hurried and apprehensive. He could barely understand what they were saying, he could only hear them. His ears seemed to be under pressure, like diving into a deep sea. His daydream made him believe that the darkness was an ocean, but after a while, everything became clear again, and he was still there, in the car.
With the little strength he had left, he turned his head to the right side, because a noise woke him up. It was someone trying to rip off the car door. A paramedic. That's when he noticed the ambulance and the police cars around, surrounding the perimeter.
— He's awake! — the paramedic shouted.
— Quick! Pull this out! — replied another, who was trying to free him from the wreckage as quickly as possible.
Martin realized the state his car was in. Badly destroyed. Maybe even a total loss.
Ah, the insurance I would take out...
He must have really been speeding at the time of his escape.
Escape !
What ever happened to that Joseph Hawkes?
I was sure I saw him fall face down on the ground in the rearview mirror.
What about your partner?
The notebook!
He looked over the passenger seat and the floor of the car until he saw the device, completely destroyed, and the pendrive, split and crooked, next to it.
With his eyes absorbed in tiredness and his eyelids weighing down his vision, he still had time to look a little above and see his little Iron Man action figure, there, hanging, swinging under the rearview mirror, probably the only thing that was still whole in that car.
Martin relaxed his muscles and let his head rest on the steering wheel. Even with the sound of the horn, he fell asleep.