Surviving the Show Pt. 5
Pre-Cannon | Pinning | Slow Burn | Forbidden Love | Falling in Love | Fem!reader-coded | no beta | swearing | Violence
Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5
pairings: evan mccone x reader
notes: DO NOT REPOST. Press the heart button if you liked it. Read the tags. DO NOT FEED TO AI. Feedback is welcome
Day 10
The NCG trucks sped up through the road while the sky was turning purple, Headquarters had alerted that the Record & Report app had received the awaited news; your location had been tipped off near the docks. McCone examined the picture on his phone, even though it was a little blurry it showed an image of you wearing an outfit that gave off the impression of being a homeless person, face half-hidden behind a wool hat. The picture had been cleared up and it showed your ID picture correlating your facial features.
Maybe it was Fate or Destiny as he himself used to monologue on his TV ads but it was luck. Unfortunately it wasn’t for you, you had been hiding away but now he would see you again. He was intrigued specially after the meeting he had attended that morning.
Flashback
Evan looked at the screen of the room that had been designated as conference room of the safe house.
Leigh, a NCG agent had sorted out a quick presentation for the Hunter team and field agents.
“The viewers want blood, which means Killian wants blood.” She explained showing a few captures on the screen of the last hunts.
“We need a runner dead soon or at least a repeat of two days ago.” Leigh reasoned.
He barely looked at the smug expression of Maxwell on the video where he was running from the Hunters.
“That Maxwell guy seems the type to end up to be killed while he is too caught on his own thing.” Frank, one of the Hunters, commented. “Like at that club from that night. We have experience with his kind.”
“And,” Leigh showed your rotating 3D profile model on the screen. “The DNA sniffers caught strands of her DNA on the area of the club where Maxwell was hiding. But hear this, the estimates don’t indicate she was at a nearby zone or inside a big radius. They put her in the same area as Maxwell.”
“Near Maxwell?” Frank repeated in dumbfounded. “That is absurd, we were there the moment Maxwell got out and we did not see her!”
McCone could feel his forehead wrinkling behind the mask. That was not possible, he had not seen you, not even the NCG trucks infrared cameras detected you. Then where the hell had you been?
A flash of purple and black came to mind.
Don’t tell me…
You had been there the whole time and you had gone undetected because you were not even hiding, you were the server girl with the purple wig.
“The best place to hide is in plain sight…” McCone muttered.
Frank looked at him still lost.
McCone pointed at the map of the area on the screen. “Have all witnesses been ID’d including the club-goers?”
Leigh shook her head. “We are still on it. It is a highly-frequented zone. It could take us days not only to ID everyone but to figure out their relationship to the runners.”
Doninger raised his hand.
“What if Maxwell and her are involved?” He proposed.
“Dude, what?” Frank stared at Doninger as if he had grown a second head.
“I mean....” Doninger shrugged. “...both come from Co-Op City, from nearing districts, probably knew each other before entering the show.”
“That is like saying that a woman likes pink because she is a woman.” Holloway shoot down the theory.
“True. But Maxwell is also quite the ladies’ man. It could happen.” Donahue mused.
“Ah, but contestants are not allowed to get out of their apartments on the Network’s tower and they are monitored and guarded.” Frank rebuked in a petulant voice.
McCone felt a growing pressure on his temples at the absurdity of the conversation. He put both hands on the table and stood up. “Enough with the gossip. Our goal now is to keep tracking down the contestants.”
End of Flashback
By the time they arrived at the docks the sun had hidden away. There were trucks and vans parked at the entrance and a couple of armed men with patches on their jackets and caps, some of them were sporting beards.
A militia group.
The NCG trucks pulled up, McCone got down.
“Gentlemen,” McCone politely greeted. “We thank you for your service and your help in the hunt for the Runner.”
One of the militia men stepped up; big beard, trucker’s cap and shield sunglasses the pure definition of a redneck went to welcome McCone and the other Hunters.
“You can call me Erikson, no problem, Mister Hunter. We are more than happy to do our duty as citizens of this country.” The redneck said.
“You can step now, my men and I have it undercontrol.” McCone stated.
NCG agents came out of the trucks, weapons in hand and stationing around the block containers and storage units.
“We found her first,” Erikson declared.
McCone lifted one eyebrow. “I know, and you and your group will be recompensed following the rules of the programm.”
“We would like to be the ones to kill her.” Erikson finally revealed his hand. “It has happened before and civilians have gotten more money.”
Money to keep funding their militia and their cause, no doubt.
Unfortunately the rules were the rules.
“I am afraid that will not be possible. Civilians can only kill when the Hunters and the NCG are not present.” McCone reminded.
Some militia members looked at each other with unease and dispair at the opportunity that had been taken from them. Erikson, however, was not deterred.
“We could help.” The militia leader offered. “Make a show of the patriotism of the Network.”
McCone’s eyebrow twitched, the Network was American patriotism enough. He didn’t want a bunch of trigger-happy brainwashed idiots to make his job any more difficult.
“You would have to contact the CEO for that.” McCone replied
Erikson had the petulant look of a child about to throw a tantrum to get his way.
“Then may the best one find her and kill her. Boys!” Erikson boomed.
The militia group quickly run into the dock
“Fuckers!” Frank cursed.
“Let’s go!” McCone ordered, the Hunters and the NCG run to the storage units.
The hunt was on.
You had managed to make your way inside a warehouse. The place was dark safe for slim halos of light coming from distant lamplights and boats that poured into the floor. Your back was against the wall and your bottom was on the ground with your legs slightly bent. You were hugging yourself trying to rest all you could.
Shouting came from outside, probably dock workers on the night shift. There is also movement. Your drowsy gaze gets lost on a group of boxes in front of you. Then there is banging. You sit straight.
The sound of banging is distant, it comes with the noise of doors being slammed open and the shouting was getting louder.
That raised the alarms inside of you, standing up you tried to discern something from the windows but they were too high. Putting a hand on the wall you listened paying attention to the shouting but it was fast and hurried. Realization dawned on you. Your luck had run out, they were looking for you.
Running fast you crouched down behind a bunch of boxes and old equipment opposite to a staircase that led to the upper floors of the warehouse. You quickly secured your backpack straps around your stomach.
SLAM!
The door of the warehouse opened without ceremony.
Slow and secure steps resonated in the building. You could barely make out a figure coming in, there was the sound of shuffling clothes and the grip of hands on a gun.
Your heart beat widly in your chest. You closed your eyes resting your forehead on a box wishing, praying, that whoever had entered didn’t even think of going to where you were, that if others did they would ignore your presence as well.
But the steps kept getting closer and closer, they moved with stealth and purpose without making any fuss. You peeked a little and saw a pair of dark boots and the light of a torn pointing down at the floor. Despite the pure fear you felt you were able to hear a familiar buzzing sound, hover cameras. Tilting your head up you saw two of them flying inside and stopping to scan the area.
That meant a Hunter had entered the building.
You stood up just a little and sneaked behind a bunch of shelfs filled with boxes and other materials you did not care to discern.
The stepping suddenly stopped and the Hunter suddenly turned.
You cursed the day you were born. Of course Hunters would have some kind of superhuman hearing, of course they would. Or maybe you had not been as quiet you hoped for. The buzzing of the hover cameras resumed scanning different places of the warehouse.
The steps turned and approached your hiding spot. You closed your mouth and covered it along with your nose with your hand. No, you could not die yet. The stepping stopped again, you lowered your hand. You waited.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
You didn’t move, you couldn’t. If it were up to you your body would turn to stone until the danger had passed.
“Found you.” A familiar voice said.
Your head snapped to the side, there he was. McCone with a gun on his hand pointing at you.
Eyes wide in pure horror your body refused to move. He did not make any movements either.
It seemed like McCone wanted to approach you but a shout broke your moment.
“McCone! I know you are in here, you masked bastard!” Erikson’s voice shouted from the entrance. “I saw you come in! I bet she’s in here!”
Confusion marred your features, since when the relationship between the Hunters was so bad? Or was it an unsubordinated NCG agent who had shouted? Either way McCone was their superior, who the hell had shouted like that?
McCone lowered his arm and looking at you placed a finger on his masked face. He came out behind the shelf and walked towards Erikson’s direction and stopped.
“I already told you, sir, you and your group must leave. You already have secured the money for the report and once we kill the runner you will be recompensed.” McCone said in a polite and curt tone.
“No, McCone. Me and my boys are going to save this show.” Erikson grabbed something from his own back and bullets rain down on McCone.
McCone ducked and fell to the side.
You peeked a little and saw Erikson holding an AK-47. Great, now there was another threat.
Erikson kept firing down around all he could see. You ducked down to the floor and crawled away. The firing stopped.
“Have I convinced you now of my skills, McCone?” Erikson shouted to the darkness.
What was that man’s problem with McCone anyway? You were getting tired of crawling, reaching the end of a shelf you sat down and rested your back on the metal.
A gloved hand covered your mouth your whole body tensed.
“Shh..” McCone’s masked face entered your line of vision.
Yeah, you could do that. You nodded.
He put a hand on your shoulder and with his head he motioned you to move forwards.
You resumed your crawling. You two managed to get to the stairs, you walked up and could see from the corner of your eye McCone getting into position ready to shoot at Erikson. He followed you to the upper level.
“...Subordinate problems?” You inquired nervously.
“No, fanatic problems.” McCone took a quick look at you and motioned for you to keep going.
You went through the corridor, furious footsteps going up resonated on the facility.
“I didn’t think you were fond of the bitch, McCone!” Erikson’s voice taunted a few meters from you. “What? Do you let her do favors to keep you happy and she can keep going?”
A distant rain of bullets ricocheted making explosive noise against a bunch of boxes.
“Don’t worry, I’ll let you take the scraps once I am finished with her!” Erikson shouted maniacally.
More bullets, this time closer.
A grip on your arm kept you grounded, your pace faltered a little but you didn’t stop. McCone guided you downstairs on another set of stairs.
Once again on the ground floor McCone pointed his gun upwards, then he turned to you.
He grabbed your arm once more and guided you between the shelves and equipment. His pace was firm and regular. He made you halt at the turn of a corner and surveyed the surroundings.
You took a tentative step of to the left, then another.
McCone pulled your arm backwards which in turn made you evade the incoming bullets, your back met his chest.
He looked down at you, his aviator glasses looked accusatory.
“Don't move unless I tell you to.”
You nodded meekly.
McCone kept guiding you with his hand in your shoulder; left, left, stop, righ, left, stop, walk, right…
Eventually you two reached the exit door.
“Not so fast, McCone!” Erikson was in the middle of the warehouse looking at you two with crazed eyes and pointing at both of you with his AK-47.
But he was not alone, the rest of his militia group had managed to sneak in inside too, they were all pointing their guns at you.
McCone slowly moved his arms behind his back and threw a small sphere to the inside of the warehouse. A grenade.
He quickly run outside dragging you with him.
The explosion was deafening and it pushed both of you a few feet.
You fell on your back with your elbows supporting you, McCone fell on top of you but his quick reflexes made him stop his fall by resting his hands next to both of your sides.
When you looked at him you noticed his aviator glasses and his beret were gone, probably fell down and got lost or broken. It was the first time you could see his eyes, a mix of dark grey and blue that reflected the nearby fire.
The fire.
You looked at the burning warehouse. There was no way the people inside had survived, at least that it was what your very limited knowledge of explosions and bombs told you.
McCone stood up and dusted off his covered hands. He offered one to you, you took it and stood up. The heat of the nearby fire was felt even if it was burning feet away from you.
You stared at him and he stared back you, finally he let go of your hand.
“The hover cameras are destroyed but this fire has only alerted everyone else. I advise you escape now, runner.” McCone told you.
He was puzzle, why did he not take the opportunity to kill you was beyond you but the fire alarms of the incoming firetrucks woke you from your trance.
And so you ran from there.
A/N: I just noticed this is the second time I include an explosion in the story, maybe they could be my thing. But I promise to try and avoid them. McCone and Reader had finally had a formal reunion, what does await them in the future? We will see. Enjoy!
