Henry Smith got up but didn't go to Megan. He exited the door while Carl followed, uncaring about his presence but realizing his determination. The air was bone chillingly cold and refreshing. Like two worlds separated by an array of wood. A pathway with three choices. An ancient stone tower stood to the left, locked in a war with dust and corrosion. It had been abandoned for the longest while. Perhaps a lookout in the past for a different generation but no longer useful. Massive generators lit up the night like a beacon in the distant right. The garden was straight ahead but Blair was a ghost. Gone. Nowhere. Totally invisible. Hidden in the dark.
He stepped forward and waited. For something. But nothing happened. He expected Blair to charge at him from out of nowhere and do something crazy. Illogical but what could he say. But Blair didn't do that. Did nothing much at all except stay unknown. He took another step forward and then another. In the deafening silence of the night, his footsteps were no different from yelling 'I'm coming. You hear?' Yet no one responded. It was still pitch black as though the night didn't care. Then he realized the garden was a lot taller then he remembered it to be. The plants were as tall as ten feet when they plunged him into isolation.
There was a scream but he ignored it. Carl probably. He wasn't too concerned about that old man and she was still in the house so he didn't have anything to worry over. He walked deeper and deeper into the garden, closer and closer to the exit. He found it strange. Blair had invited a CEO, but then abandoned the same person to go back to her garden. Why? What was more important then a CEO? What did a CEO represent? Status. What was more important then status? Safety. What kind of safety? Your life maybe? But what would her life be threatened by? Why would going back to the garden guarantee her life? It seemed rational to him so he looked for clues. Not clues on why her life was in danger but clues related to killing. While it was possible that he overthought the matter, caution was always better then letting your guard down.
He ducked as an eery whistle flew past his head. The ground blew up a feet feet away from him and it was barely audible but he knew what it meant. Someone had fired a gun. Silencer too. Professional. Was the target Blair or maybe even him? If a bullet almost hit your head, you were possibly a target. The chance that a stray would hit a random head was… improbably was the wrong word but unlikely. It was more realistic for skin to be scraped. He didn't hear or feel another shot. Definitely a professional. An amateur would fire again due to panic. A professional would change positions and use the silence to take advantage of panic. So he chose not to panic. There would be not a chance that Blair might scream. A professional wouldn't miss and they would not let their target scream either.
He moved perpendicular to the direction it came from, circling around the center while shortening the length between him and the would be killer. He focused, expecting the second bullet to come at any time. If it did, it would prove he was the target. If not, then Blair- Blair would not be in trouble because he had no concern over her life. If anything, he would still kill them because they posed a threat to Megan and Ava and the other two people who were invited as guests. He would be seen as a threat regardless if they came for him specifically so he focused quiet hard and felt the blood pumping madly in his heart. One millisecond felt like an hour and several hours passed before the ripple finally showed. Now he had two choices. He could either duck and make it obvious that he knew they were there, or he could move a little faster and let them think he got lucky again. But if he got lucky thrice, then they would know something was up. So, he had to make a dash in their direction and hope they weren't too far.
It was better to dash when they had to reload because dodging a bullet was impossible. Well, maybe he could possibly dodge them all, but he didn't know how many people were out there. If he exposed himself to take down just one person, if there was at least one other person who was an observer, he would have a ton of problems after. The best choice was to run and hide. They would know that something odd was going on regardless, so he preferred to have some kind of advantage.
And so he dodged the second one and rushed forward until he found cover. That's when he heard the pitter patter. It started to drizzle out of nowhere and it was impossible to dodge rain. They could hear him but he could hear them. They already had the advantage but now they were in the same disadvantage as him.
North west, several dozen feet out. The click of the chamber was amplified by the abundance of rain. He ran during the click and hid again when he heard the breathing. The shot landed just a few inches away from him as he ran behind a statue. Only a few feet away. The rain wasn't necessary anymore. The breathing was very loud and so was the chamber reloading. The moon had arrived at an unknown point and provided a sliver of illumination. I looked at it and my brain began revolving.
There was a torn piece of clothing right next to him. Also a steel pipe with some blood on it. Either Blair's or the intruders. Most likely Blair was injured and held hostage somewhere.
He pulled something akin to string out of his pocket and tied it to the pipe. He quietly moved in the same direction the shadow was created. There were bushes in the opposite direction and Henry Ruthless always stayed away from sources of noise because that's the first place bullets flew.