By the time he got to his desk to fish the scissors and glue from his pants, he heard the secretary call to him.

"Milter, pick up on 4. It's your sister."

Wyatt went to the phone. "Officer Wyatt Milter speaking," he said, with tongue-in-cheek.

"Hi Wyatt..." Tanya said. "Um... when are you getting off? Same as usual?"

Wyatt thought she sounded worried. "Not for another couple of hours, but I never took a dinner break, so..."

"Can you get away for a bit? I'm walking through Hyde Park. I feel like... I know this is going to sound silly, but I feel like I'm being followed."

"Hold on," Wyatt said quickly. "I can get the dispatcher to send a car around straight away."

"Oh no, don't," Tanya said quickly. "I'm sure it's nothing, I'm just feeling a bit uneasy. Look, if you're busy-"

"Sis, it's no problem, hold on, I'll call you on your cellphone..." Wyatt hung up the receiver, and went across the office, pulling his cellphone out and turning it on. Most of the few policemen there were hanging around doing nothing, sipping coffee and waiting for something to happen. When he got to the secretary, he said, "I'm heading out for my dinner break. I'll be back in a half-hour, ok?"

"Uh huh," the secretary said, not looking away from the computer. Wyatt grabbed a glance. Solitaire.

The sun had set, and the evening air was cooler than he expected, and his fingers had a bit more trouble getting the phone number to come up than usual. Finally he got the dial-tone, and with his free hand he grabbed his badge, and waved it at the oncoming taxis.

"Wyatt?" came his sister's voice.

"Hey, I'm just getting in a cab now."

"Ok, I'm heading to the north side of the park. I don't know what I was thinking, walking through there at this time of night."

"Why're you so late tonight?" Wyatt said as a taxi pulled over.

"Just had extra marking to do, that's all..."

Wyatt jumped in. "Hyde Park, please, and quickly," he said to the cabby as he flashed his badge. The cabby grunted -- cops in the city didn't have the best reputation as tippers. "So what's going on? You think you're being followed?"

"I thought so," Tanya said. "Back about a minute ago I thought some guy was keeping pace with me on the path. When I went for my bag I think he backed off. Thought I had mace or something?"

"Hm... alright, well, I'll be there in about five minutes," Wyatt said. "Are you sure you don't want me to call this in? There might be a car right there."

"No, there isn't, I didn't see any before I got into the park," Tanya said. "I'm still about five minutes from the other side."

"Alright, well, get to that side quickly and I'll meet you there. If you see a group of people, or else a well-lit area near the road, then-"

"Shit," Tanya said.

"What?" Wyatt said, his heart jumping.

"I think he's behind me again," Tanya said.

"Do you actually have mace?" Wyatt said, looking with anxiety at the cab's speedometer. Cars were flying by pretty fast.

"No, I don't have anything," she said. "I keep meaning to, but you know... Christ. Hold on..."

"Is there nobody around there?" Wyatt said, before covering the phone and asking, "Hey, can you pick it up? This is urgent."

"I'm going as fast as I can, man," the cabby said.

"Yeah, there's a few guys ahead. I'm going to go up to them and pretend to ask for directions or something."

"Ok, good, that should scare him off-" Wyatt said, before turning back to the cabby. "Just do the best you can. Don't worry about speed limits. I'm a cop."

"Excuse me?" he head his sister ask. "Can you tell me- Aigh!"

"Tanya!" Wyatt yelled.

"Oh shit, oh shit," Tanya said, panting. Wyatt could the sounds of men hollering for her.

"What's going on?"

"They've got knives," Tanya said. "Wyatt, where are you?"

"Hurry the fuck up!" Wyatt yelled at the cabby.

The cabby gestured in front of him. In the distance Wyatt could see blinking. Yellow construction lights.

"Wyatt!" he heard her yell, but it was distant this time, and then he heard a smack. His sister shrieked, but it was even more distant this time. The sounds of men laughing came to his ears, and then he heard one of the voices coming closer.

"Tanya?"

"Wyatt! Waaaaahhhh-yatttt!" a mocking falsetto voice sounded in his ear, before the phone hung up.

"Oh my lord," Wyatt said. "How far away are we?"

"We're one block over man, that way."

"Call 911 on this cell, tell them to send cars to Hyde Park now!" Wyatt tossed him the phone, and opened the door.

"What about the fare, man?"

"Meet me at Hyde Park and I'll pay you there!"

"Oh whatever, man," the cabby said.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Wyatt turned around, wondering if the driver was going to call or not, but some space had cleared ahead of him and he was already driving.

"You bastard!" he said, and he knocked on the window. The cabby gave him a glare, before picking up the cell phone and shrugging. Wyatt saw him dial 911, and yelled "Thank you!" before turning around and running across the lane towards the sidewalk.

A horn blared at him, and Wyatt jumped back as a car ran right in front of him. He looked back in the direction of oncoming traffic, and the headlights were blinding. He pulled out his badge and held it up, flashing it in their direction, but the next car didn't stop either. When it passed, Wyatt saw that he had enough space, and he jumped across, narrowly missed by the next car. Shrieking tires.

He collected himself and ran to the corner, almost pushing several people over. "Call 911," he yelled. "Tell them to send cars to Hyde Park now!"

He caught a few glances from the people walking by. He could tell they thought he was crazy.

He rounded the corner and saw the streetlights in front of the black expanse of trees, and he ran for it as fast as his lungs could handle it. He wanted to yell out for help again but his breath was short, and he'd have to stop to do it. As he ran, he felt for his gun at his side, and it was there, but the holster was clipped tight. Through his gasps, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd opened it.

It was barely a minute between the time he left the cab and the time his feet first landed on the grass of Hyde Park, but it felt like an hour. After taking a few steps, he realized that he didn't know where she was. Five minutes away, she'd said. Five minutes. If she was hurrying, that could have been a few hundred yards. But straight in?

Yeah, straight in. It'll get you closer to her.

He charged in, and ran through the trees to the closest lit path he could find. She wouldn't have been stupid enough to go off the lit path. She'd be close to it. Still no sounds, though. He ran harder, panting as the cold air cut into his throat. "Tanya!?" he tried shouting, but it barely came out. It was only a few steps before the path started to hit an incline, and Wyatt stumbled a bit before regaining the pace. It wasn't easy. It was hurting to lift his knees now, his legs felt heavier than he'd ever known, even worse than the toughest training days at the academy. He could see a shed at the top, but it looked like there were so many trees between him and it, and as each one passed, he realized he wasn't running, so much as partaking in a pathetic imitation of running.

My sister, he thought, and his eyes went wet, and immediately cold. His legs were failing, and he stumbled over to a tree, to take a breath before beginning to jog again.

They've got knives. His head pushed out that thought.

His heart was pounding within him as the lamp above seemed to make everything beyond it even darker. He glanced around, and saw nothing but the outlines of trees, black within a deeper black. Nothing was moving anywhere -- if he wasn't sure that his sister was in the park, he could have been convinced there wasn't another living thing within a mile. He could make out the construct at the top better now. It was one of those gardener sheds with tools locked up inside. It wouldn't have a phone.

Christ, you moron, he thought. You should have kept your phone.

As he panted, staring down at his feet, more awful thoughts filled his mind. Who were these bastards? What were they doing to her? Where were the damned police? Weren't there supposed to be patrols through the park at night? Sirens, he thought, I'd give anything for some sirens.

His ears picked up a shriek. It was to the left.

Downhill.

He immediately started running again, and he was growing numb to the pain. In the failing light he could barely make out the outlines of a small children's playground, and shadows within it. The lights were off, for some reason, but as he got closer, and the land leveled out, he was certain there were men's voices too.

"Get off me you bastard!" he heard Tanya yell, and he sighed in relief, knowing that no matter how bad it was, she was still able to fight back. He realized then that there was going to be a bunch of them, and he'd need to use his gun. Oh Christ, he thought. I can't shoot this thing. Christ oh chri-

Maybe you won't have to. She said knives, not guns. They won't be stupid.

They'll put a knife to her throat. Oh God, he thought, they'll put a knife to her-

He pushed the thought away.

There were just a few trees now between him and the playground, and he slowed his pace. The noise they'd been making had masked his own footsteps through the grass. As he snuck the last few yards, undoing the holster, he could see the figures more clearly. Two were standing, arms crossed, laughing. He could make out his sister's long hair. Closer to the swings, one guy was holding her awkwardly from behind, he seemed to have her arms locked behind her somehow. Another was right in front of her, holding her face and squishing her face so that her lips were puckering.

His free hand was clasped on her breast.

Wyatt inhaled sharply in fury. He grabbed his revolver and immediately pulled it out.

And tripped over a tree root.

He landed awkwardly. A large rock pushed up straight into his stomach, and the impact forced a "Gwaff!" sound out his mouth. His face went straight into the earth, and his nose stung like a spike was being pushed into his face. Everything was black for a moment. His arms flailed about, and his hands...

His hands were empty.

"Holy shit, man," one of them said, rushing over. "It's... ha ha ha, it's a cop!"

"What?" said the other. It was the two guys who were standing to the side, enjoying watching the rough play from earlier.

"What's going on?" came a more distant voice. One of the two on his sister.

"It's a cop," the first one repeated. "And look here, he's dropped something."

Oh fuck, Wyatt.

"Well, how about that," the second one said. "What do you think? Do you think this was the guy on the phone? What was his name?"

"Waaaahhhh yattttt!" one of them called mockingly.

"Oh boy, Wyatt coming to save his..." he paused, and then chuckled. "Is this your girlfriend? Holy shit, man, are you his-"

Wyatt rolled over to get a look at the shadowy men, and immediately one of them kicked him in the stomach, and the other leaned down and grabbed his head, and twisted it towards the jungle gym. His eyes were finally getting used to the darkness, and the first thing he could make out was the horrified expression on his sister's face.

"That's my brother, and don't you dare hurt him, or the entire city is going to come hunt you down."

"My little lady," said the one who was grasping her face. "Who are they going to know to look for?"

"Ha!" laughed the one holding her from behind. "She thinks she's leaving this park tonight."

"You assholes!" shouted Wyatt. "You can't do this!"

"And who's going to stop us, Mister Wyatt?" whispered the one holding his head. "I don't hear any voices, any sirens... It's just us out here, Mister Wyatt."

"Hey man, turn him up this way," said the nearby voice of the one who kicked him. Immediately, the strong grip on his head twisted him so that he was looking up at the man's face. He was surprisingly young and well-dressed, from what Wyatt was able to see. His hair was cut neatly. Despite everything, Wyatt couldn't understand what a guy like this was doing in the middle of the park. He'd expected hoodlums, but they were all dressed similarly well. They even had college Lettermen jackets on.

"Hey Wyatt," the one closest to him said. "I'm going to do her last, when it's my turn. It'll be on the swings. And afterwards, you can watch as I burn her."

"No!" Wyatt yelled.

"Oh yes, Wyatt," the man said, as he pulled out a cigarette lighter. "You ever seen somebody get burned by this? You're about to. It's a crazy sight." He flicked it on, and the flame from it jumped extra high. His face lit up, casting strange shadows on his eyes. "You ever seen the skin on someone's face melt?"

"No..." Wyatt sobbed.

"Oh yeah, man, yeah," the man said. "It's wicked-"

The whoosh came in from nowhere, and instantly three feet of narrow pine hit the man right on the side of his face.