I actually wrote, and posted, this story way back when, but never got around to finishing it. I always had an idea what I wanted to do, but was never happy with the result. Anyway, school and eventually grad school happened and it is only very recently that I've rediscovered how much I enjoy writing. So, long story short, I dug up my old story and finally wrote the ending. Actually there are two. The first is my original, and the second is new. Please let me know which one you prefer, or neither if they both stink. But, please be kind.
Note: The story is set somewhere within the second season.
(Thanks Rapunzl for giving me the encouragement to finish this.)
Natural Forces
Chapter One: The Storm
Marguerite closed her eyes, leaned against the balcony rail and tilted her head up to the sky, enjoying the hot gust of wind which caressed her skin. She liked the feel of approaching storms, they were as wild and unpredictable as she was.
Feigning interest in cleaning his guns, Roxton watched Marguerite closely. God, she was beautiful! But, more than that. He'd known beauties in his time, hell, lots of 'em, but this one was different. She was fascinating, smart, independent, tough as nails, but with a softness within which he was determined to grasp. One who he could be happy with forever.
A flash of lightening slashed across the sky, followed closely by a crash of thunder, shaking them both out of their reveries.
"Looks like it'll storm soon" commented Roxton.
"Figure that out all by yourself, did you?" replied Marguerite with a slight mocking smile, "Do you think it will delay them returning?"
Challenger, Ned and Veronica had journeyed the day before to the Zanga village to gather supplies and visit with Assai. It had originally only been Veronica who was to go but Ned transparently said he should go for protection and Challenger wanted to learn more about the medicinal value of the indigenous plants. Personally, Roxton thought that it was also to get a break from Marguerites near constant demands.
Joining her on the balcony Roxton gazed at the scudding clouds in the rapidly darkening sky, "This storm is coming on fast, I'm afraid they're likely to get wet, but it shouldn't slow them down much."
"Good, because I'm dying for a cup of tea" huffed Marguerite heading over to the bookcase. "There's nothing quite so civilized as reading a book while sipping tea."
"Oh, I'm sure they'll rush right through the jungle all the faster to get it to you" replied Roxton as he put the weapons away. "Why don't you make yourself useful and start dinner. Maybe if you took your time you won't burn it too badly."
Spinning to face him Marguerite angrily retorted "Me? Why do I have to cook again? It's your turn."
"You forget, my dear, I have to check the electric fence, hopefully shoot something for tomorrow's dinner, and protect you from ape-men, possibly in the rain! Unless of course you would like to trade . . . "
Crossing over to stand in front of him, eyes flashing with anger, and amusement, Marguerite gave in "Fine, I'll cook, but if you think that. . . . "
The simultaneous glare of light and blast of thunder reached them causing Marguerite to utter a shrill cry while Roxton grabbed her protectively. "That was close" he remarked distractedly, gazing out at the approaching gloom.
"Again with the obvious Roxton" Marguerite twisted out of his arms.
The sky had blackened to a shade of pitch and what had been a mild breeze quickened into a shrieking wail carrying sheets of pounding rain. Lightening, like a living thing, streaked by in a blinding frenzy, striking both the ground and nearby storm tossed trees.
"What is this?" Marguerite cried struggling to speak as the maelstrom of wind and water whipped through the tree-house, destroying as it went. "I've heard of fast storms but this is ridiculous."
Grabbing her arm to partially shield her from the onslaught Roxton had to shout to be heard, "I don't know, but we'd better get out of here! . We're forty feet up and no other trees around here have metal so we're likely to get hit by some of that lightening."
"What, leave shelter and go out into the storm, are you crazy . . . "
The concussive force of the lightening strike brought them to their knees, while the crash of sound made their ears ring. The storm howled through the freshly opened hole in the roof, making the most of its new entrance. Grabbing Marguerites hand tightly in his own Roxton yelled "Now is not the time for debate, let's go." The comfortable space which they all shared was gone in a morass of water, tables, books, supplies and papers. Roxton quickly abandoned any thought of packing anything and took his gun which was, as usual, close at hand.
The darkness fed their fears as he half-dragged the shaking Marguerite toward the elevator and he prayed God that it still worked. Shoving her in before him, he activated the mechanism which sent them shakily downwards. Marguerite clung to him as slivers of flashing light and the boom of thunder seeped in toward them. Holding her slender frame Roxton inhaled the scent of her wet hair and gloried in the feel of her warmth next to his; he would protect her to the last fiber of his being. She was his, and now he only had to convince her of that.
"What now?" Marguerite yelled as they reached the bottom.
"We'll have to get somewhere low, far away from the tree-house" he answered as he helped her from the elevator. The wind dragged at them, driving the rain into their faces and plastering their clothes to their bodies.
"That's your plan?"
Taking hold of her arm Roxton steadied Marguerite as they struggled across the compound. Abruptly, as quickly as it came, the wind died, going from a mind-numbing howl to a whisper, rain and lightening ceased as the clouds abruptly thinned. From somewhere out in the torn jungle foliage a strange, low, discordant hum slithered through the air.
"What the . . . " gasped Roxton.
"This is way too strange Roxton, what is going on?" stammered Marguerite scraping her dark hair out of her eyes
"I don't know" Roxton, drew his gun "but there's something out there." Warily, he watched the tree-line while slowly moving them both back to the tree-house.
As if created from thin air, heavily armed warriors in black burst out of the trees to surround them. Bloody hell, thought Roxton, only six shots and no spare ammo! The hum, grew louder becoming clearly the deep intonation of chanting and the warriors parted to admit six figures in dark robes and cowls, hands entwined.
"Whoever you are, don't move!" ordered Roxton loudly, as he rapidly assessed the situation. There was no way he could stop them all but he could at least slow them down to give Marguerite a chance to get away. " When I say go, you make a run for it back to the tree-house."
"What, and leave you to have all the fun, I don't think so . . . "
"Marguerite . . . " Roxton hissed between clenched teeth.
"All right, all right."
Releasing her hand, Roxton stood between her and those approaching. The chanting grew louder with each step as they crossed the muddy ground, rapidly reaching a crescendo. Roxton could almost swear he saw the eyes of the central figure glow as he aimed his gun toward them, he heard the crunch of their footsteps and felt the sigh of the wind and then . . . he felt no more.
"Nooooooo!" screamed Marguerite as she rushed to kneel at his side. "John, John, speak to me, say something goddam it" she whispered as she touched his face. A feeling of unreality washed over her, what was but moments seemed like hours. Nothing had appeared to hit Roxton, but still she had seen the light fade from his face and his slow, boneless, collapse to the ground hadseemed to last an eternity.
"No . . . no . . . this is not happening . . . " tears blurred her vision as her fingers frantically searched for a nonexistent pulse. Sensing the strangers approach she turned to them, rage, horror and grief warring within her fine features. "You killed him, you bastards, you killed him . . . " seizing Roxton's fallen weapon, Marguerite whirled to her feet and shot blindly her hands aching with the gun's report. She may not have been aiming well but she shot straight, she knew she did, and still the bullets seem to just fall from the air and splash harmlessly onto the soggy ground. In disbelief Marguerite collapsed back to her knees.
"No, Marguerite, he is not yet dead" smoothly intoned the leader removing her cowl to reveal her face, old, yet strong, surmounted by a graceful braid of silver hair, a strangely figured black amulet upon her brow. "My name is Marag, leader of the Nerites. He could yet live, but for a small consideration."
What, did they mean a price? But of course, there was always a Price, she thought bitterly, but she'd give everything she had to get him back, . . . everything. Cradling Roxtons limp body to her Marguerite's voice shook, "Go on."
"You must join us, willingly, and travel onward to our holding."
"And if I don't accept this kind gesture . . . " Marguerite replied through nerveless lips.
"Well then, there is always a choice . . . " the elegant stranger stated with a sweeping gesture of her hand toward Roxton.
"Some choice! ..... You save his life . . . and I'll go." She had nothing to lose. The stillness of Roxton form made her desperate.
"Wise decision" a gentle smile enhanced her features, at odds with her brittle, brilliant, green eyes. Bowing her head and rejoining hands with her companions, a low hum began to emanate from them, building in waves, not one note but many, rising and rising until . . . complete silence. "It is done."
Close by a small lizard rustled in the underbrush and the insects droned, but for the sound of their breathing there was no change. "What? What's done? Nothing's done! Roxton don't leave me . . . " whispered Marguerite as she wept on his chest, clasping his hand.
Gently, his hand tightened in hers as Roxton weakly replied "Don't worry, 't will be all right."
"Bring her - carefully! Take him also. We will leave now as there is far to go before dark."
"Wait!" Marguerite, ever defiant was determined to remain with Roxton for as long as possible "How do you know who I am and what could you possibly want from me?"
"Patience child, all will be revealed in time," replacing her cowl Marag gracefully turned and lead the raiding party back the way they came.
As two guards swiftly pried Marguerite away from a groggy and disoriented Roxton others bound his hands and, supporting his arms, followed. Not able to take her eyes off of him she saw he could hardly walk and knew they'd have to bide their time until he recovered before they tried to escape.
Surrounded by guards she allowed herself to be taken into the rank tangle of growth. The verdant greenery passed by with the hours, but she was blind to their form and fragrance, instead she focused on the man being half-dragged behind her. Damn, but she had nearly lost him. When he fell, it was like having her heart torn out, a heart which she had thought walled off long ago. I love him, but I won't let anyone ever hurt me again, I need him but . . . Stop it! She chided herself, these situations have never worked out for you, best to ignore it until the feeling goes away - depend only on yourself and you'll never be disappointed. Despair and confusion rippled through her soul. With a heavy heart Marguerite trudged onwards as they steadily moved upwards toward the mountains.
Hearing a guard yell she cast a concerned glance at Roxton to see him being forced along.
Gazing fixedly at her form, Roxton mused that he must be feeling better, considering that he couldn't feel much worse. He wasn't sure what had happened to him, just remembered standing ready to shoot to protect Marguerite, a strange pulse had ripped through his body, and then nothing, only blackness. Until he had become aware of a warmth beside him, and the scent of her which he would know anywhere. Oh, but everything hurt, and he was exhausted, if it wasn't for the two burly men assisting him he would have fallen fifty times by now. Awkwardly, he paused by a clear mountain stream to splash cold water on his face, ropes chafing his wrists. "Keep moving" barked a guard, roughly yanking him to his feet and knocking off his hat. The guards were too many and he was too weak to escape, he'd have to bide his time to come up with a plan to save her, perhaps some sort of diversion, funny, he hadn't seen any dinosaurs, not a sign of a raptor - where's a T. rex. to sow confusion when you need it!
