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The Longest Day 2a

Episode 12 written by Janey
Original air date:

Disclaimer: The characters in the following fan fiction do not belong to me. They belong to CBS and Viacom and other powers that be. I am only using them for the purpose ofwriting this story. No money is being made from this writing it is for entertainment purposes only. And now on with the show...

Abby began to shake, her breath coming in short gasps as she tried to control

her rising panic. Steve desperately tried to reassure her but he didn't sound

convincing, even to himself.

Abby rolled back and struggled to sit up. Steve lay still and waited. Hopefully

they wouldn't realise that he had moved.

The doors swung open slowly and the vehicle rolled in then Mac closed the doors

while Flynn turned off the engine.

"What do you think cop?" said Mac noticing Steve was awake.

Steve looked more carefully in the dim light. The car was different.

He looked puzzled.

"We did a deal with a friend in the business," said Flynn.

"Do you like it?" asked Mac.

Steve doubted that his opinion mattered to these two and he shrugged.

"Cat got your tongue?" asked Mac moving closer to Steve.

"Mac," said Flynn, "Let's get everything ready first then we can deal with the

cop and the girl."

Mac turned to look at Flynn and nodded. Relief flooded Steve's brain.

Mac turned and grabbing a handful of Steve's hair, yanked it back.

"We'll play later," he promised menacingly.

Steve mustered all his courage to reply, "Look forward to it."

Mac snorted "Hey Flynn, this cop's got some guts."

Flynn agreed then said "Later Mac. I need a drink of water."

He reached inside the trunk and grabbed a half litre bottle of water. He twisted

off the cap and took a gulp of the cool liquid. Steve tried to lick his lips.

Flynn offered the bottle to Mac.

Mac let go of Steve's hair and walked away with Flynn to the other side of the

car. He grasped the bottle and took a quick swig of water, then placed the

bottle on one of the packing crates.

Steve raised his head to look at Abby. There were tears in her eyes as she

looked at him.

"Well one thing is for sure," thought Steve, "if they are busy with me they just

might leave Abby alone."

He wasn't convinced but it gave him a sliver of hope and the glimmer of an

escape plan was already forming in his pain-tortured brain.

Steve realised that Mac and Flynn were placing gas cans along the side of the

barn. His feelings of unease twitched and began to mount slowly but steadily. He

noticed Abby watching him carefully and he gave her a half smile to try to ease

her fears, but he could see from the haunted look in her eyes that his attempts

to reassure her weren't working.

He returned his attention to the two men. They had placed ten cans in all, at

points along the four sides of the barn, but more of them were towards the end

where he and Abby were shackled to the pillar. This really worried Steve, gas in

a barn used for storing hay was not a good idea at the best of times, but with

people inside it was bad, very bad idea.

He looked over to Abby; she had obviously had the same idea. Her eyes were wide

with fear and panic and her bottom lip was trembling uncontrollably. She bit

down on her lip, chewing it, trying to maintain some control. Her teeth broke

through the tender flesh and a smear of blood appeared.

2.44 pm

Flynn and Mac appeared satisfied with their labours and grinned at each other.

"It's going to be a good blaze," stated Mac.

Flynn agreed. "Light up the sky for miles around," he added grinning.

"Now," continued Flynn, "we get to play."

The knot of fear in Steve's stomach tightened and he nervously glanced at Abby.

She was shaking her head and desperately trying to slide along the floor,

pulling on the rope attached to her ankles so it bit into her flesh.

Mac walked slowly and menacingly over to the girl.

"No!" The word escaped Steve's lips before he could think.

Mac turned and began to move in Steve's direction.

"Mac," came the voice of Flynn, "stick to the plan."

Steve turned and saw Flynn leaning lazily on the side of the car fixing a

silencer to his gun. "I've got the cop covered." He took a long drink from the

bottle of water in his left hand.

Mac turned back to Abby and began advancing again.

Abby watched his approach with wide, frightened eyes.

Mac grabbed hold of her arms and raised them above her head, pushing her back to

the floor with his body weight. He knelt and straddled her hips, looking down at

her squirming beneath his grip.

He released her arms and reached down to lift the hem of her skirt. His other

hand found its way under her t-shirt and was making slow progress towards her

chest. She whimpered and began to plead with Mac to stop. She used her fists to

pound at his injured shoulder. Mac growled and removed his hand from her skirt

and struck her across the mouth and cheek, reopening the cut below her eye.

Fresh blood mingled with tears and ran down her face and onto her neck.

Steve determined to stop the assault and glanced over to Flynn who was watching

the attack with lazy interest. Maybe he could do something.

He pulled his feet up and kicked hard against Mac's body. Mac lost his balance

and fell sideways across Abby.

Pain exploded in Steve's right thigh. The single, silenced shot had brought a

halt to his thoughts of attacking Mac. He gasped and then tried to relax as his

legs hit the ground.

Mac stood up and glanced at Flynn.

"He's all yours, Mac," stated Flynn. "I just made him more amenable to your

touch."

Mac nodded and advanced on Steve.

He grasped Steve's legs and yanked then hard. Pain, sharp and stabbing, exploded

in Steve's brain as he fought to keep conscious. 

"Abby," he murmured, must remember, fight to stay awake, "got to help her." His

battle was taking all of his reserves of strength to maintain a wakeful state.

Mac held Steve's ankles and removed the ropes. Steve's injured right leg dropped

agonisingly to the floor where it was trapped under Mac's foot. Steve struggled

again and lashed out at Mac with his left leg. Mac caught the leg in his hands

and held it there.

Flynn advanced "Need some help?" he asked Mac.

Mac nodded and Flynn placed the nozzle of the gun against Steve's left thigh.

Steve's head thrashed from side to side and he tried to back away from the gun

but Mac held his leg in a vice-like grip. He could hear Abby pleading with Mac

and Flynn. Then pain lanced through his leg as his left thigh seemed to implode.

The world tilted and Steve began to swim in and out of consciousness.

"I think that's enough for now," said Flynn.

Mac nodded and dropped Steve's left leg on top of his right. Pain flashed again.

Steve was loosing the fight to stay alert. His thoughts were drifting; pain was

pulling him down into the eager blackness.

A scream pierced his semi-conscious brain and he opened his eyes to look at

Abby. Mac had dragged her to stand in front of him and she was bleeding

profusely from the corner of her mouth as Mac repeatedly punched her face with

his fist.

Steve moaned and tried to sit up. ABBY NEEDED HELP. This thought pounded

relentlessly through his head. His need as a cop to protect Abby was now driving

his strength to new limits. He heard Flynn shout a warning to Mac, but it was

too late. Steve gathered all his strength and kicked out with his left leg

It caught Mac behind the knee and he tumbled forward knocking himself

unconscious on the crate.

Flynn groaned.

"Great," he murmured, "now I have to do all the work myself."

Steve leaned back and grasped his left thigh trying to stem the steady flow of

blood from the agitated wound.

Abby had curled up on the floor into foetal position, quietly crying to herself.

Steve moaned as he realised Flynn was tying his left leg to the pillar. He tried

to squirm away but the sudden movement caused excruciating pain to shoot up his

right leg and threaten to overshadow his slim hold on reality.

Flynn walked over to the other side of the car and returned with a large block

of wood and a thick metal pipe. He placed them on the floor beside Steve's

confined leg.

Flynn placed the wooden block underneath Steve's leg just below the knee and

picked up the pipe.

He looked at the panic mounting in Steve's eyes as he swung the pipe and smashed

it down onto Steve's calf. The crack of the bone was audible, even to Steve, but

the scream of pain died in his throat as he collapsed into unconsciousness.

Flynn looked at Abby.

"Well now I can get on with what I need to do, without interruptions."

He moved towards Mac and shook his shoulder; Mac murmured and began to move

around, grumbling.

Flynn helped Mac up and gave him some water. Mac mumbled his thanks and returned

the bottle.

"That cop has got to pay," growled Mac.

"He's already made a small deposit," stated Flynn.

Mac turned and saw Steve's legs each with a bullet hole and a steady flow of

blood. Then he saw the left leg lying in a very unnatural pose tied to the

pillar.

He grinned.

"It's a very small deposit."

"One that will grow with some interest from you," stated Flynn. "We've not got

much time left, before we leave. If you want to get the girl sorted you'd better

hurry. I'll move the car."

Mac nodded and strode over to the girl. "Come on that last game wasn't very

good. Let's see if I can teach you another one."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her over behind the crate, out of sight.

Flynn didn't care what Mac did to her. She was no use to him now; she had no

value except to keep Mac occupied for a few minutes. He could hear her

whimpering and moaning, then she screamed and Mac swore as he clamped a hand

over mouth. He pulled a hunting knife from his belt and traced a line down her

thigh towards her knee. Abby could feel the warm blood trickle down her leg. He

pushed her to the floor and knelt down straddling her hips.

"Shut up or I'll really get the party going," he mumbled in her ear.

She clamped her lips together a little and he moved his hand from her mouth and

took hold of her neck with his right hand, gently squeezing his fingers and

thumb together. Abby gasped for breath. She tried to block out what he was doing

with his left hand under her skirt and focussed on her breathing. He was

allowing so little air into her lungs that she was in danger of passing out. He

was only just keeping her conscious, so she could react to what he was doing.

She closed her eyes. Mac thought she was passing out.

"Oh no you don't," he whispered releasing her neck a little.

Air rushed into her lungs and Abby opened her eyes. She could see Flynn standing

behind Mac, looking down at them. She heard a tiny noise and Mac fell forward

onto her his lifeless eyes staring at nothing. She screamed.

Football. He was playing college football. He could hear the crowd shouting and

screaming his name. His ribs ached. Too many tackles today he thought. The ball

was in the air … it was coming towards him ….. he leapt up …. he grabbed

the ball. 

He was running. He could hear the others close behind him. He could see the

touch line. He was nearly there. He tripped; he felt the weight of the others as

they fell on him. His leg was sore. Dad said he wouldn't play football anymore.

No football. No football. It wasn't fair.

Steve murmured and moaned but remained unconscious.

4.36 pm

Flynn moved to the side of Mac and pushed him away from Abby with his foot. She

stopped screaming and became aware that Flynn was holding a gun.

It was then she realised that Flynn had shot Mac in the back of the head.

Flynn looked at her. "He really was an animal, but he followed orders well."

Abby looked at him,  she felt a little relieved but very puzzled.

Flynn motioned for her to move back towards the pillar.

She drew in a sharp breath as she became aware of the cuts that Mac had

inflicted on her thigh. Every movement caused blood to well up and flow down her

leg.

Flynn tied her feet to the pillar. Then he threw her a small key.

"Undo his cuffs," he pointed to Steve.

Abby moved over and with some difficulty managed to roll Steve over onto his

side.

Steve moaned and took a sharp breath. The blood continued to expand its

territory across the leg of his trousers.

Abby paused, and then moved to unlock the cuffs.

Tears welled in her eyes when she saw Steve's wrists and hands.

The cuffs were on so tight that they had cut into his flesh. His hands were

swollen and a sort of purple/blue colour. She tried to remove the cuffs

carefully but still Steve moaned and tried to move away from the new source of

pain. She finally released him and then she passed the cuffs to Flynn. He put

them in his pocket and threw her a piece of rope. "Tie his hands again," he

stated.

Abby opened her mouth to refuse but Flynn waved the gun in her direction and she

thought better of it.

"Tie the rope tightly," warned Flynn, "Or I'll make another hole in the cop."

Abby nodded and tied the rope as tight as she could while tears flowed down her

face.

"I'm so sorry Steve," she murmured.

When she had finished, Flynn motioned for her to move away. She shuffled

painfully away from Steve, towards the body of Mac. Flynn checked the ropes.

"Not bad," he said. "You're turn."

Abby shook her head. "No, please," she begged.

She didn't want to be tied up. Her cuts on her legs were bleeding more profusely

and she wanted to try and stem the flow of blood.

"Either I tie you up or you can go and meet Mac. The choice is yours," stated

Flynn.

Abby extended her hands, wrists together, to show her acquiescence. Flynn shook

his head. "Turn around," he said.

He bound her wrists and then released her. He turned towards the nearest crate

and lifted a metal tray and a bag of other items from behind it.

"Why, …..Why did you m..make me take the cuffs off Steve and then tie him with

rope?" she asked as the tears once again flowed down her cheeks. The cut on her

cheek burned as the salty tears ran along it but she ignored it.

Flynn turned to face her.

"Rope will burn and metal won't." Was his short and frightening reply.

"B…burn?" stammered Abby.

"Think about it," said Flynn as he moved Mac's body in to the space where the

car had been. "There were two men and a woman at the bank, and when the fire

dies down; they'll find the bodies of two men and a woman."

Abby shuddered as the awful plan played out in her mind in technicolour.

"Looks like I'm all set," he said. "Don't worry; they say the smoke gets you

first." He smiled.

Abby felt sick.

She watched carefully as Flynn set about organising the means of his escape.

He tore a piece of cloth from Mac's shirt and tied it to a piece of rope. He

placed the end of the rope into the neck of one of the gas cans on the far side

of the barn. Then he trailed the rope and material across to the middle of the

floor.

He placed the metal tray on the floor. On it was a small candle. He poured some

oil around the candle and drizzled it onto the piece of cloth. Then he placed

the end of the cloth under the candle.

"Well that's it, got to go, but not Mexico way. Poor Mac he was so looking

forward to Mexico," Flynn stated simply.

He moved towards Abby, determination shone in her eyes, she tried to move away

but she couldn't move any further away. He tore a piece of tape from the roll

and pressed it against her mouth.

"We don't want anyone to interfere with the plan, do we?" he asked.

He glanced at the tray and then crouched and lit the candle with his lighter.

Abby whimpered as the candle caught and a bright flame glowed from the wick.

"The candle will last about an hour, the cloth will burn very quickly, but the

rope - ah well I don't want to ruin it for you."

He turned and walked out of the door. Abby heard the bolt scrape home and then

the car started up. She listened as the sound of the engine trailed away to

nothing.

One hour. They only had one hour to get out.

Abby moved as quickly as she could over to Steve. She had to wake him up. She

turned and began to use her hands and fists on his arm, to try to gain his

attention.

5.07 pm

Dad, no please, I don't want to get up. It's not time yet. Why can't I stay

here, just a little longer? His Dad's face appeared before him. "Time to get up

son, you'll be late and then what will the others say?" Steve started to reply

"But it's only Little League Dad, it won't hurt to be late."

"Steve," his Dad said, continuing to pat his arm, "The rest of the team need

you, if you can't handle the responsibility then you should stop playing the

game."

Steve turned over, "Okay Dad, I'll get up." His father had already walked out of

the room.

"Dad? Dad?"

Abby stopped prodding Steve when he spoke. She began to mumble behind the tape

and then grabbed his arm and shook him.

Steve raised an arm to his face and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Abby?"

Abby increased the volume of her noises and finally they broke through Steve's

sleepy haze.

Steve lowered his arm and carefully rolled to face Abby.

He was shocked by her appearance and tried to stifle a gasp of concern.

Her face was a mess. Bruises were beginning to form round her eye and her cheek

was split again. There were fingertip bruises round her neck and her voice was

husky and full of pain.

"Abby?" began Steve.

She shook her head and then indicated towards the middle of the barn.

Steve's befuddled brain couldn't understand her anxiety and he was beginning to

feel woozy. What he needed was a little rest. Sleep; that was it.

Abby used her fists again to attract his attention and he opened his eyes. He

still couldn't make out what she was saying but he followed the direction of her

gaze and his eyes widened in horror as he saw the candle and followed the trail

of rope to the gasoline can.

Steve struggled into a sitting position. He looked at his legs and groaned. His

heart sank when he saw his calf. That meant trouble. It made escape very

difficult. He started to think quickly.

He leaned forward and took careful hold of the corner of the tape across Abby's

mouth with his teeth and pulled. Abby started babbling in her rasping, injured

voice about the candle, Mac, Flynn, the gas cans, fire; it all came tumbling out

of her mouth in an incoherent rush.

"Abby!" Steve's voice was sharp and gruff with pain.

Abby stopped in mid sentence.

"Abby, we've got to get out of here." Steve fought to control the pain.

Abby nodded.

"Can you make it over to that rotary blade if we move the crate?"

Abby nodded again.

Steve began the slow, agonising move over to the side of the crate. Abby watched

his progress.

He lay on his side and rolled and squirmed into position protecting his left leg

as much as possible. Abby kept glancing at the candle. Less than an hour, much

less than an hour.

By the time Steve reached the crate, sweat was running freely down his face. He

was gasping for breath from his exertions and the constant excruciating pain. He

was becoming accustomed to the constant level of pain. But the flashes of

lightning pain left him breathless and close to passing out. Abby. He kept

thinking about Abby. She needed help.

Once he had got his breath, Steve braced his right foot against the pillar and

his back against the crate. Very slowly, trying to control the level of pain, he

inched the crate back. Suddenly the crate gave way and Steve was caught off

guard.

Pain shot up his leg and seemed to explode in his thigh. His left leg was numb

but he was beginning to feel nauseous as the bones moved against each other

unnaturally. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat and leaned back to

rest his head on the crate.

"Steve."

Abby's voice sounded a long way off. Steve fought to reach her. He opened his

eyes slowly.

"I did it," she said and Steve could see she had undone her ropes and was

kneeling at his feet and untying his left leg. Her hands were scratched and

bloody from her attempts to cut the ropes as quickly as possible.

Suddenly there was a whooshing sound from behind them as the oil in the tray

caught light. Steve fell forward, protecting Abby.

Once they realised nothing else was going to happen, Steve tried to sit up. Abby

helped him and then she released his wrists. Steve groaned as the blood rushed

to his starved fingers.

"Are you okay?" asked Abby. Steve had gone very pale, almost white.

Tiny, white lights danced before his eyes and the wind whistled past his ears.

He concentrated on his breathing.

"Steve?" Abby looked frightened, almost panicky.

Steve nodded to reassure her. He turned to look at the tray. The candle had

burned down, igniting the oil and this in turn had lit the cloth. The cloth had

already burned away and the flame was licking at the rope.

Steve shook his head to clear his thoughts and looked around them.

The best place to get out would be through the wall behind them. It was furthest

away from the first can and that would give them extra time if they needed it.

Steve then noticed that the barn was constructed on the dirt floor.

"Can you walk?" asked Steve.

Abby nodded.

"See if you can find something to make a hole in that wall. But stay away from

that gas can, just in case."

Abby nodded and swallowed hard. It felt better to be doing something. Anything

to keep from watching that rope burn away.

Steve glanced to the side of the crate and realised that there were two feet

lying alongside the box.

"Abby!"

Abby came quickly to his side.

"What happened?" he asked, indicating the feet.

"That's Mac. Flynn shot him, while he was…. while he was……" Abby's voice

broke as she stammered to a halt. Her lip started to quiver and fresh tears

welled in her eyes. Subconsciously she tried to pull her skirt down to cover the

vivid scars and bruises.

"It's okay," reassured Steve as he realised Abby had had to crawl across her

tormentor to reach the rotary blade and gain release from her bonds.

Abby smiled hesitantly at him. "I found this," she said, "I think it's water."

Steve took the bottle and opened it. He carefully sniffed the contents.

"I saw Flynn drink from it before he left," she added.

Steve cautiously tipped the bottle back and took a sip.

The warm water was like nectar to his dry and anguished throat. He took another

sip then passed the bottle to Abby.

Abby sipped the water feeling it trickled down her tensed and bruised throat.

"Easy," said Steve, "we might need some later."

Abby nodded and put the bottle on the floor next to Steve.

She smiled hesitantly at him and then walked carefully around him to the other

side of the crate to continue her search.

Steve began to scan the back wall of the barn, looking for a weak spot. It was

difficult to see properly and he knew he would have to get over to the wall if

he was going to aid the escape. Steve took a shaky breath. He could cover the

distance to the wall in four strides. How could something be so near and yet so

far away?

He shook his head and forced himself to concentrate on the job in hand. Although

he wouldn't be able to use his legs much he still had his arms. He rolled

tentatively onto his stomach, careful not to put too much pressure on his ribs.

Then he began his slow and agonising journey towards the wall.

His ribs ached and protested at the added pressure. His broken leg screamed its

disapproval of his every movement. His hands tingled alarmingly as if connected

to an electrical circuit. But inch by unbearable inch he dragged himself over

towards the wall.

Abby approached carrying the water bottle.

"You look like you need a drink," she said observing the sweat that ran from his

face and torso making his clothes so damp they clung to his body.

Steve took the bottle gratefully and raising it to his mouth took two sips of

the water.

He held out the bottle to her but she shook her head.

"I'm okay," she said, aware that Steve needed fluids far more than she did.

Steve accepted her reluctance to drink for now. But he knew she was just as

dehydrated as he was.

"I found these," said Abby holding out a spade and a crowbar.

Steve smiled and held out his hand for the crowbar. "I'm afraid you'll have to

do the digging."

Abby nodded and looked at the back wall.

One of the planks used in constructing the wall had broken at the base. Abby 

kicked at it and then quickly sucked in breath as the cuts on her leg smarted at

the sudden movement.

Steve looked up at her and Abby smiled trying to reassure him she was okay. But

she glanced in the direction of the burning rope and with mounting fear,

realised it was already half gone.

She bent down and began to dig around the broken plank. Steve placed the crowbar

between two planks next to it and, using his bruised and tender hands, he began

to work the bar back and forth trying to split the wood.

Abby continued digging until she had made a small well at the base of the wall.

She stood to take a breath.

Steve had been forced to pause moments before as a lightning flash of pain shot

up his arms as the wood gave way.

They both paused panting from the continued pain and exertion.

Abby looked at the result of their efforts and began to hit the plank on the

other side of the split one with the spade. Steve noticed fresh blood begin to

trickle down her legs.

6.23 pm

Suddenly the plank gave way and Abby gasped as she saw the jagged hole they had

made.

It was just about large enough for her to get through with some twists and

turns, but Steve?

Steve looked up at Abby. "You'll have to go for help," he stated, realising that

she could get out but he couldn't.

Abby shook her head.

"We both stay or we both go," she said.

Steve started to protest but Abby wouldn't listen, she began to button Steve's

jacket.

She then took hold of the collar of the jacket and dragged him so he had his

back to the wall.

Abby lay down and began to work her way through the hole. As she wriggled and

squirmed from side to side working her way through, more wood fell from the

edges of the hole.

Once through she twisted around put her arm back through to grab hold of Steve's

jacket.

She pulled the jacket towards the hole.

It was a difficult job. Her arms were tired and sore from being tied up for so

long. Her head was pounding with pain and the splinters she had collected from

her journey through the hole were behaving like tiny needles, stuck into the

flesh of her arms and legs.

Gradually bit by bit Steve emerged from the hole. He helped her as much as he

could with his arms, but his legs were so painful he resisted moving them at all

in case the pain caused him to black out - that would not have helped Abby.

Eventually they were both free of the hole and as they sat gasping for breath

Steve offered Abby the water bottle for Abby to have a drink.

This time she didn't refuse and took two sips of the water, insisting he also

took two sips.

"We'd better move from here," managed Steve as his breathing eased.

Abby nodded.

She grabbed hold of the collar of the jacket again and began to pull Steve away

from the barn to safety.

Pain. Pain. She had to stop thinking about the pain. She began counting her

steps, with each one she dragged Steve away from the barn to safety.

One…..two…..three……four…….five……six….

Steve could hear Abby mumbling and concentrated on her voice. She was counting.

Mentally Steve began counting with her.

Eleven……twelve…..

thirteen…….fourteen……..fifteen…….sixteen……seventeen.

Her muscles screamed in agony, her brain begged her to stop, but still she

counted.

Eighteen…….nineteen……..twenty.

There was a flash and a colossal explosion.

Abby was blown off her feet onto her back and banged her head on the floor. Her

senses swam.

Debris from the shattered barn rained down on them. Large pieces of wood

battered their already badly beaten bodies. Splinters shot out like nails fired

from a gun. Randomly stabbing anything in their path. Flames licked at the sky

as they consumed the wooden structure.

To be continued...