"...Know what that means, kiddo?"
In every mammal's life, depending on their relative height on the food chain, comes a moment where all plans to stay ahead of their predator fails. Here, the responses vary. Some animals run away immediately, without thinking, and sometimes into a trap depending how well the predator planned ahead. Some rear up and prepare for battle, which is especially effective against predators who rely on stealth and the element of surprise and chaos. Humans are the exception - some thirty thousand years ago they leapt all the way from the middle of the chain to the top, and their Fight or Flight reflex became irrepairably damaged. In fact, it turned into Fight and Flight, or in most cases, neither.
And thus, Chris found himself frozen in fear. He felt, in the long pause that followed the stranger's question that anything he says, even his next breath, endangers Carrie directly. He felt he was in that room physically, getting gunned down alongside her because of a stupid pronounciation mistake. The scene must've played through his mind a thousand times, his muscles straining, small drops of sweat appearing on his forehead. There was a pain in his chest, and he was surprised to find himself holding his breath. He inhaled a short gasp.
"What - I'm not telling anybody." he finally said, quickly spitting out the words. His monotonous voice made him sound like a tough criminal being interrogated, and he wasn't sure that was a good thing. But he needed to get to the point. "What do you want from me. What can I do so you let her go unharmed."
He realized what scared him was the man's voice. Around him the bass was still pumping, and lights were still blinking. The phonecall was not real. He was imagining it all. He slowly began walking towards the entrance to the club, out of curiosity.
