AN: This is a completed fic. The next two parts will be posted this weekend.
I know. Most of you have thought me dead. And I probably am. These days I' m
just a zombie hoping to make it through another workday. But considering that
almost half my fic is Halloween related, it' s probably fitting that I come back to
life on All Hallow' s Eve, to haunt you.
Some of you have been promised more chapters by a long passed due date. I' m
sorry. All I can say at this point is: I'll be back. Mwhahaha.
Trick or treat
Let's just say that for the purposes of this story Freak Nation took place at the
end of October.
3 AM, Terminal City
She didn't know how late it was or for how long she had dozed off. Her head
rose abruptly from the table she was sitting at and in the sudden movement, it hit
the light bulb suspended from the ceiling by a long cable. For a moment, the light
flickered, on and off again, revealing the sparely furnished room she called her
own. After all, she had spent a couple of hours in there in the last few days.
In the darkness, Max strained her hearing, hoping to find out what had awakened
her so abruptly. But there was nothing. The light hum of the generator Dix had set
up nearby reached her ears and nothing else. The black sky, visible it seemed
from each and every spot in Terminal City, provided cover for the transgenics but
for once the compound seemed to have settled down for some rest. An unusual
peace, after the hectic first two days of the siege and yet one sorely craved by all.
Most of the transgenics needed some sleep, and while Max did not, she was
happy to have found a quiet spot. She felt drained of energy, swamped with
organizational matters she hated dearly. If ever, Manticore had trained her to be a
soldier, not a manager.
It wasn't really the lack of sleep that was bothering her, but rather the lack of
space. Constantly being surrounded by people asking for her advice, barging in
on her in need of immediate attention, and always having to jump in to avert
disaster more than once every few hours – all which had left her head spinning.
She didn't need sleep. That's the way she was made. She just needed a few
moments for herself. She didn't need sleep. Just rest.... No, no sleep. All she
needed was...
….
Once again, her eyes fluttered open, but this time she was wide-awake. Indeed,
she needed some time to think things over, to digest the events and come up with
a plan of action. But this was not it. Personal matters could wait. Outside her
room, one of the very few having a door in Terminal City, she could hear steps.
Her senses screamed at her to get up and prepare to fight. And yet she remained
seated, almost holding her breath.
It wasn't unusual for people to be up at night. There were guards; maybe there
was an emergency... But the steps had slowed down, as if hesitating. She silently
congratulated herself for not turning on the light bulb that was still silently
dangling over her head. Still nothing. Silence. The steps had stopped.
Max didn't' dare hope the person would go away, leaving her to her thoughts.
She had learned the hard way that hope brought nothing. Someone would come
in, or not, would be an enemy, or maybe not. It would not be a friend though. She
barely had one or two left of those. So be it. She was ready. Outside her door,
feet shuffled, a few steps echoed silently and then it came.
In the silence of the room, the knock seemed to shatter her ears. Must be some
X6 guard, too shy to disturb her in the dark. Sighing, Max reached up to pull on
the string that would light the bulb when the backrest of the old chair gave way
and sent her sprawling to the cold concrete floor.
The sound of the door opening with a squeak drowned her muffled curse. She
wasn't going to be caught flat out on her ass by anyone, even if the darkness
covered her momentary weakness. Max was about to propel herself off the floor
when she felt rather than saw Logan's lanky silhouette profiled against the door
frame, all tense, ready to jump:
"Max? Are you okay?"
For a second Max allowed herself to sink back in a seated position on the floor.
Logan. There was no emergency after all. Of all the people she had imagined
could search for her at this hour, it had been Logan, the one she had successfully
avoided for the past few days, seemingly without protest from him, until she had
finally ceased to expect him. No, she hadn't forgotten, how could she. She had
just blocked him out of her mind and apparently he had done the same with her,
all taken up with the computers they had managed to set up.
"Max?" This time his voice came nearer as he strode in, concern evident in his
voice. "Are you alone?" She had forgotten he couldn't see in the darkness.
Frantic, Max got up and reached for the light bulb string. It was dark, what if he
came too close? And then, as she was sure there was enough distance between
them, another question popped up.
Why would he think she wasn't alone? Oh. The answer occurred to her just as the
sudden light flooded the room, low in intensity and yet harsh enough to make
Logan squint.
"I'm here." She had hoped to let annoyance seep into her answer, to let him
know that it wasn't okay to just barge in on her like that. All she had managed
was a soft, reassuring tone. Damn.
Still somewhat blinded by the light right above Max, Logan looked around the
room, finally discovering the rests of the chair. "You sure you're unleashing the
wrath of the avenging angel on the right object?"
A playful smile escaped her lips, as if she was considering him as an alternate
target. "Dix mentioned we needed more firewood to heat the areas on the other
side of the compound."
The corners of his mouth rose in answer and for a fleeting moment, their eyes
met.
But Max recovered quickly. "I was hoping we could spare this door from the
bonfire, it's not like you can get much privacy around here."
He chuckled dryly and then blushed, recognizing the tease as the question it was.
3 AM wasn't a normal time to call on someone, not even on transgenic leaders
under siege.
Logan had been mulling this over in the past few days, and several times he had
been close to dismissing it, for various reasons. Almost 48 hours spent on the
phone or at the computers with barely enough sleep to keep his head from hitting
the keyboard weren't helping his reasoning skills. And then, when he had finally
seen the date and realized there was a pretty simple way of putting his plan into
action, he had ran to her, oblivious of the time. Or maybe he had been afraid he
could change his mind if he slept over it. After all, there was one reason he was
doing it and one reason only. Personal matters wouldn't wait. Time was running
out on them.
"Logan?" A shade of pink showed under his scruff and Max wondered why he
had suddenly fallen silent. "What happened?"
Piercingly blue eyes rose to meet hers once again and he gave her an answer that
sent her mind into a spin.
"Do you know what date we're having tomorrow? Well, today," he amended,
with a glance at his watch.
Max frowned, her thoughts racing. It couldn't be the second anniversary of the
day they had met, that had been a few days ago and all they had done was hold
hands on the roof of a besieged building. His birthday? No... The one she had
chosen for herself? Not even close. What was it then? Puzzled, she dared him to
give her a good reason for coming over in the middle of the night after they had
seemingly both gone through so many pains to avoid each other.
"No, what?"
An excited little boy grin lit up Logan's face. "It's October 31st, All Hallow's
Eve. Halloween...."
All Max could do was stare at him dumbfounded.
"You know, the night the spirits of the dead come out to haunt the living.... It's
been celebrated in many cultures over the centuries, Pomona for the Romans,
Samhain for the old Celts..."
"Logan!" Max' face was by now contorted in confusion. "Have you lost your
mind?"
But Logan didn't seem to heed her.
"Would you come trick or treating with me tomorrow night, Max?"
It was this invitation that finally convinced Max of the sad reality. The toxic
waste of Terminal City had started to affect Logan's sanity.
TBC...
Once again, be warned, this is what happens when you have to interrupt work
because of a blazing headache and you crawl under the cool covers of the
darkened bedroom, unable to do anything but suffer in silence. And no, I'm not
obsessed with Halloween. On the contrary, I enjoy my country's equivalent much
more and have never been trick or treating. Yet.