Witness

That was the last time I would see my house in Holmes Chapel for what would feel like a very, very long time. And when I would return, I would be a different person.

Oddly enough, they tucked me in a place even further away from society than Holmes Chapel – something I thought wasn’t possible. When Harry had brought me to South Shropshire, I hadn’t thought I would one day move into a room in an inn nestled tightly in the green rolling hills of little Church Stretton. The human population was rivaled by that of the sheep roaming the lush landscape The town was an island in a sea of green, and that was somehow wildly comforting to me.

But I couldn’t sleep until Harry came home.

Hector insisted that he would be home by the end of the week, a day earlier than expected. They cancelled the last day of sightseeing around Korea and would instead return home on an unlisted plane to an undisclosed location so it would be impossible for Damien to track them. It was recommended for all the boys and staff to lie low – they convinced Anne and Robin that they’d won some sort of vacation in Greece, so they were off enjoying some of the sunshine, so on. Everyone was going to be safe. But in the meantime, I had to wait. And waiting was impossible.

Sleepless.

I could only rest a half-hour or so at a time, and only during the day when the downstairs of the inn was bustling with customers, making noise and assuring me I wasn’t alone. To keep busy, I assisted the keepers with the dishes and drinks, because that was what I seemed to be good at those days, all with a watchful eye over my shoulder. Damien could be anywhere, in my mind. Though it was impossible. At night, I couldn’t close them – I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes in fear that if I did, he would appear, pixelated and robotic, searing hot barrel pressed to my forehead.

On the day that Harry was to arrive in Church Stretton, I was restless. I was fearful to roam the city, for fear that one of the few human inhabitants would be working for Damien. So instead, I went to the hills and lay on the plush green grass amongst the sheep, the only beings I felt I could trust at that time.

For the first time in days, my mind was clear. In that field, there was nothing to think about but the blue skies stretching for miles above me, the thick, untrimmed grass lapping against my skin, and the bleating of the sheep dotted across the field as they enjoyed their afternoon meal. One approached me out of curiosity, docile enough to let me pet its dark black muzzle. Their wooly coats were thick for the oncoming winter, bracing them from the cold winds that sometimes came through the valley. I did the same, wrapping myself in a thick sweater and jeans. We were one in the same, those sheep and I – thinking we’re free but secretly captive, just trying to stay warm in the cold.

“He’ll be here soon,” I told the sheep as I ran my hands across its matted coat. “Before you know it, he’ll be home safe. You’ll love him. I promise.”

I kissed it between the eyes before reaching to my pocket and outlining the edges of my cell phone, laying it wait. I hadn’t taken it off me ever since the O.E.O. set me up with a new one, one previously owned by another officer, still under his name and number. Perfectly safe. Unreachable by anyone other than agents and Harry. Meant for specific occasions, like updates and warnings and ‘you’re-fucking-screwed-run-for-your-life” moments. I hoped that last one wouldn’t have to be a worry.

I was waiting for a call from Harry. Surely he’d call when he landed, right? They’d fix him up with a new phone, right, so he could call me when he landed? So I wouldn’t have to sit and worry all day? It was already edging into the late afternoon, the last of the sun’s warmth leaving the hillside. Soon, I would have to go inside and go back to my edgy fearfulness, plagued with the burden of worry.

“Where is he, sheep?” I questioned, petting at its soft, black ears.

Like it had the answers.

“Hey!” a voice suddenly called, startling me. I scrambled to find the source, only to see a body standing several meters away, further down the hill. Tight black jeans, loose white t-shirt, fedora covering a halo of messy curls. Harry.

Before he could take another step, I was on my feet, running down the hill as fast as my legs would take me. The wind whipped around me as I went, threatening to blow me over. But with the adrenaline pumping through my veins at the sight of him standing there alive, it only made me feel like I was flying. Past the sheep, down the hill, through the grass that slapped at my calves as I went, to finally have some peace of mind.

He caught me up in his arms when I reached him, and though I nearly knocked him over he stood his ground. His hands tangled in the hair at the nape of my neck, holding me tight to the crook of his shoulder as he heaved a sigh of relief. And I began to cry – because how could I not? He was safe and in my grasp again, not half a world away, not alone in a hunt.

At least we could be hunted together.

He squeezed me tighter as I sobbed tears of relief, frustration, and fear into the collar of his shirt, leaving little black crescents on the fabric. I could feel his breath in my hair and it steadied me somehow, the very present assurance of his life right in front of me. Harry was in one piece, physically. I was in one peace, physically.

Emotionally was a different story.

“Hey, none of that now,” he hummed in my ear. “Where’s my brave girl?

“She kind of hit the road when gruesomely threatened by the man who wants her dead,” I muttered into his shoulder. And sickly enough, we both laughed.

It’s truly a strange feeling, seeing someone you love after you feel you’ve lost some part of yourself in his or her absence. I was ashamed at first, standing in front of Harry with red-rimmed eyes, hardly a brave bone left in my body. I’d always put up such a good front for him, aside from after the news about Amelia broke. But even when he told me to be brave, I was. But now, that bravery had dissipated. Damien had stolen it from me and I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to get it back, even if he left my life forever.

“Have they found anything more about him?” Harry asked softly, but a fierce glint in his eye. A glint that rejected the fear Damien hoped to instill in him and instead displayed anger. Something I wished I had in that moment. But again, Harry hadn’t been forced to sit captive to his would-be killer, he didn’t have see the things I saw. He could be brave for me, instead.

I shook my head. “He hasn’t said anything more for them to trace.”

The anger flashed, intensified, and then entirely disappeared from his expression. And it almost terrified me. Almost. Because the last time I’d seen any sort of deadly anger, it had been chasing me to Canal.

“Would you like to meet my new friends?” I asked, gesturing to the sheep around us. “The company really is lovely here in Church Stretton.”

Harry laughed and shook his head, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up in South Shropshire,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes before following me back up the hill to where I had been sitting before. It was just high enough to give a perfect view of the little town in front of us, nestled quietly in the expanse.

“But it is quite gorgeous,” Harry hummed, petting at a sheep next to him. “Different from Korea.”

I smiled, examining his distant expression. “What’s it like, Korea? I’ve only ever been to New York and, well, here.”

And that was enough to send him off, far and away. He had enough stories from just six days in Korea to fill a couple hours, the light eventually dimming as the sun kissed the horizon. He spoke of a city of white light at dusk, crowded streets, spicy kimchee, vast temples in the hills.

The look Harry got when he told stories of far off places was maybe the happiest I ever saw on him. He just had this lust for life about him, a hunger for adventure that could never be satiated. Every new place brought out a new part of him, taught him more about himself. And the way he talked about Korea nearly broke my heart – because I knew that for a while, he wouldn’t be going anywhere.

We couldn’t go anywhere.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured to him as we lay in bed that night, my head tucked into the crook of his arm, his hand playing lazily with the ends of my grown-out hair. He paused for a minute, raising his eyebrows before glancing down at me.

“Sorry for what?” he asked, but I’m sure he already knew.

“For putting you in a cage.”

It seemed like the nicest way to put it.

“Mara, it’s not your fault,” he replied sleepily, squeezing me. “Don’t ever blame yourself in all of this. There’s nothing that can be done. And before you know it, we’ll be safe again.”

I was quiet for a while, listening to the sound of his breathing. Thanking God he was still alive, somehow.

“Maybe we’ll go to Korea together when this is all over,” he breathed through a yawn before he returned to playing absently with my hair as he fell asleep.

When this is all over.

But when would it all be over? Would it ever end? Damien was a master at what he did, a mastermind for that matter. He had a whole crew of hackers working behind him, all at his disposal if he needed them. He could disappear and reappear whenever he wanted to. The government could only do so much to find him. The rest was up to fate.

And fate had a tendency of not being on my side.

That night, I couldn’t sleep, even with Harry by my side. And I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever sleep again.