The Bureau Files: Series 2
ooOoo
Episode 7: The Game (Part 3)
Glass shattered. Haru felt something whistle past her. She spun around to see two bullets embedded in the wall behind even as her mind slowly processed this near miss. Soft, mindless laughter bubbled aimlessly from her lips, but while her body swayed, her feet were solidly unmoving. Somewhere along the line, her mind had disconnected from her legs and she wasn't going anywhere. More nervous laughter dropped from her.
"Baron, would you look at that...? That was close..."
Something slammed into her and moments later another double-set of bullets shot into the wall where she had just been standing. The paralysing shock was knocked out of her system and she rolled back to her feet and, staying low, scuttled to hide behind the reception desk. It took her a few more seconds to realise that what had knocked her from the bullets had been a who – and that the who in question was Baron. She looked to the Creation as he joined her behind the desk. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Baron was in a quiet state of shock himself; he had forgotten Haru's memory loss and had assumed she would move the moment the first bullets missed. The Haru he knew – the one whose instincts had been honed by time with the Bureau – would have reacted instantly. But this Haru had fallen prey to her shock – and he almost hadn't realised this fast enough.
One second later. That's all it would have taken.
Haru must have read some of this in his face, for she dropped her gaze and looked away. "Sorry... about that. I should have moved sooner."
"No, it's my fault. I'm practiced at this; I should have been quicker to help."
"Well then, if you're so practiced, what do we do now?" There was a teasing note in her voice, something even almost close to the Haru he knew, even if it did sound somehow younger. She was, after all, a teenager at heart right now. She glanced back across the room, seeing how the evening light flickered as someone approached the door. Her grip on the knife tightened. "Well?" she repeated, the previous teasing note fast disappearing. "Any bright ideas?"
"I always have a few in reserve."
"Any of them likely to work?"
"A few," Baron admitted, "although it depends on your definition of 'work'."
"One that preferably doesn't get us both killed," Haru clarified.
Baron made a face. "Now, you see, that rules out half my ideas. Like this one, for example." Before Haru could question or even react, Baron just grinned and swung himself out of their hiding place and into full sight. Haru thought she heard a whispered, "Stay here," from the Creation, but it was so light she could have just imagined it.
Miraculously, Baron's reveal wasn't coupled with a splattering of gunfire and blood – or whatever Creations bled – but a strange sort of silence. The kind of silence where two parties are curiously sizing up the other. Haru considered moving to see, but that whisper kept her hidden. After all, it was her this Zaroff was hunting.
Baron walked away from the desk, rounding the counter to face whoever had entered.
"I hear you're looking for someone," he said.
"And I hear you're hiding them," the stranger replied.
"A fair assumption, I suppose," Baron answered easily. Haru started to wonder how many situations he'd tried to talk himself out of in the past if he honestly thought he was going to get anywhere with this. She didn't want to wonder how many times it'd worked though. She could hear footsteps – the heavier march of the hunter and the lighter, almost inaudible footsteps of the Creation – as they approached one another. Haru didn't dare glance to see just what was happening.
"In all my memories, though, I have no recollection of a being such as yourself," the other remarked, his words weighted by the sound of his footfalls. "Have I really forgotten so much that I don't know what you are, or are you something new entirely? What corner of the worlds were you dredged up from?"
"No world that you will ever see," Baron returned. "But, excuse my manners; I haven't introduced myself." In the momentary silence that followed, Haru gained the distinct impression he was bowing; she struggled to believe it was anything sincere though. "My name is Baron Humbert von Gikkingen, founder of the Cat Bureau and general busybody. I take it you are General Zaroff."
"So you've heard of me?"
"I've heard of your game."
"Well then you must know that you are standing between me and my quarry."
"I don't believe I am." Baron's tone was so light it would have been easy to mistake it for pleasantries, had it not had an icy undercurrent running beneath it. "You've come here in vain; the woman you seek is not here."
"Come, come, Baron; I am a patient man, not stupid. I know who I fired those warning shots at." The General's solid footsteps started to approach Haru's hiding place, but he was forced to stop as Baron intercepted him.
"I told you, she's not here," Baron growled. "The woman you agreed to your little 'game' with is no longer here; like yourself she succumbed to the virus and has no recollection of much of her past. She has no memory of the agreement struck between you two. So I would look elsewhere for your hunting grounds, if I were you."
"I would, but opportunities arise so rarely now."
Haru was pressing herself against the side, her heart hammering so hard she could swear it was making the desk rattle. She glanced down to her injured leg; it wasn't serious but she wasn't going to be running anywhere anytime soon.
"Please, Baron; I insist. This is not your fight." A dangerous tone entered the General's voice. "Move aside."
"What about an exchange?"
Zaroff's curiosity piqued. "What do you have in mind?"
"Miss Haru is injured – she won't be much of a challenge anymore. Really not worth the time of a seasoned hunter like yourself."
"True... but I take what I get."
"I could take her place."
Haru's breath hitched and her legs locked. She became deadly aware that she should move – get up, do something – to stop him making this deal. She was sure that was what her older self would do.
But she wasn't her. She was Haru Yoshioka, school student, young teenager. She wasn't Haru Yoshioka, the Bureau member, the adventuress. And so her legs still wouldn't move.
"Now, why would I agree to something like that?" General Zaroff's tone was humoured. "It would be far simpler for me to finish what I've started here and come for the rest of you later. I don't like to leave a game unfinished." He started to walk but found his way blocked by Baron again. "Don't get in my way, sir; I'm sure that whatever you are, a bullet will do you no good."
"Of course, you'd have to hit me first."
Their discussion changed from conversation to action so fast that Baron's half-hearted laugh was cut short by a flurry of movement and – a heartbeat later – the jolt of a gunshot.
Haru yelped at the shattering sound, and edged to the side to see the two individuals tussling with the gun kicked to the side. Luckily, the bullet appeared to have gone wide and missed Baron entirely. The discarded gun was only a metre away from Haru's hiding place; if she could only edge over to it without being seen...
Zaroff crashed past her after a well-aimed blow from Baron's cane, tripping past the gun and stumbling against the desk. Haru withdrew behind it, now only with a single bureau between her and the General. She glanced round just enough to see Baron following after Zaroff, but he caught her eye as he approached. He quickly came to the same conclusion that she had – that the General was far too close to her for either of their liking. A fleeting moment of fear for her safety flashed across his face, distracting him for the merest second.
Zaroff saw the inattention and took it. He pushed past the Creation, grabbed the gun off the floor and rounded it to smack its butt into Baron's head. Unprepared, unaware, the feline went down. Haru screamed and her limbs buckled into movement – finally. She rose up, forsaking her hiding place to see Zaroff change his grip on the weapon and aim the barrel at the downed Creation.
"No..." she whispered.
Gun still aimed at Baron, Zaroff turned to look at the young woman. A tight smile curled at his lips. "So there you are..."
Haru dropped her gaze away to see Baron. He was blinking away the pain from the hit, and only now focusing on her. A faint trickle of blood ran down from his forehead and his brow creased at seeing her standing there, so stupidly vulnerable. "Haru...?"
"I won't let you sacrifice yourself to save me, Baron," Haru murmured. "I can't, not when I know that my older self wouldn't be able to live with knowing that. I may not know you, but she does." Haru smiled weakly. "I can't quite decide whether it's selfish or selfless to do something for a future version of myself..."
Baron started to get back up, but Zaroff shifted his gun to aim it directly into his heart. If eyes really could send daggers, the General would have been dead in a matter of mere seconds.
"This is none of your business anymore, Baron. Your agility took me off-guard the first time, but not even you can move fast enough to avoid a bullet from this range. While you, Miss Haru," he added, glancing to the young brunette, "are a different case entirely. You won't be moving too far or fast with that leg. It won't be much of a game unless you run." That same tight, humoured grin. "I'll give you thirty seconds to put some distance between us."
Haru didn't move. Her nerves hummed through her, buzzing through her system like a shot of coffee.
"Let's see... starting... now."
Haru still didn't move. General Zaroff stared at her, and then hoisted a second gun, a small pistol, from his side and aimed it towards her head.
"What are you doing, girl?"
She opened up her palm and the knife she had held onto for so long slipped out and clattered to the desk. "What does it look like?" she asked. "You wanted a game. I'm not giving you it." She met his gaze. "Shoot me now, if you like, but I won't play to your rules."
One gunshot rippled through the air, and then a second. Haru winced, eyes instinctively closing at the close proximity of the shots, but felt no pain. She opened her eyes to see that Zaroff had changed the angle of his gun at the last moment and peppered the wall with another set of bullets. He seemed dissatisfied by her lack of reaction.
"If you won't run for me, then maybe you'll run for him." He dropped the pistol back into its holster and returned all his attention to the shotgun barrel staring down into Baron. "I'm sure a few well-aimed bullets would stop whatever constitutes for a heart in this creature."
"How do I know you won't just kill him the moment I start running?" Haru whispered.
"You don't. I can only give you my word."
"And I'm supposed to trust that?"
"You can trust that I will definitely shoot him if you don't, as opposed to I may only maybe shoot him otherwise. His chance of survival depends on what you do. So... will you run?"
"I have no choice, do I?"
"Oh, you always have a choice. It just depends on how... you look at it."
"You mean whose life I value more; his or mine?"
Zaroff smiled. "Isn't that the choice we have to make every day? Should I do what's best for me, or for others? How far will we go to help others before the cost is too much? What is the point where our own needs overtake that of all others'?" That smile tightened even as the humour brightened. "So... will you play my game?"
"I'll play."
"Oh, one last thing before you leave..." He picked up the knife and tossed it to Haru. She just about managed to catch it by the handle and not the blade. "Stay in this building. Go wherever you like in it, but don't leave. If I see you so much as step outside, then I'm coming back for him–" he pointed to Baron "–to finish the job. It'll be more fun this way."
Haru glanced down to the knife, and then back up to the General. "If you say so." She met the eyes of Baron, who was still unable to move without coming into contact with the gun's barrel. His eyes were pleading, begging her not to agree to this.
Too late. She already had.
"Thirty seconds, did you say?" She attempted a humourless smile. "Let's say a minute. To give me a sporting chance."
Zaroff almost seemed amused by her request. "Alright. A minute. If you think that'll make any difference." He spun the gun round and smacked Baron unconscious with the butt. And the General was still smiling.
"Start running."
ooOoo
Baron woke grudgingly from the realms of nothingness. He winced as pain trembled through his skin as he attempted to open his eyes. His left one opened willingly, but his right felt sealed shut. He groaned and attempted to clear away the problem, but quickly found that his arms weren't going anywhere, tied behind his back as they were. He glanced over his shoulder and discovered that his tied hands were joined to someone else's.
Darcy.
He had forgotten her in the chaos, tied up and unconscious as she was. He stilled his actions, suddenly very aware that he was joined with a potentially unstable, and definitely dangerous, half-siren. By the looks of things, she was yet to wake.
Although, when she did, the last thing he wanted to be was in close proximity.
She was going to be very angry.
He glanced upwards, to where the corridors bridged above and a murky shaft of sunlight filtered down through the building. Everything was silent.
"Please, Haru... be safe..."
ooOoo
Haru's minute's grace had long gone. As she crept through the upper floors of the science building, she was all too aware that, somewhere behind her, General Zaroff was stalking after his prey.
It would have been all too easy to find a hiding place, camp down, and hope for the best, but a basic survival instinct stopped her. If she was found, she would have nowhere to run.
Game over.
As for running, Zaroff had made it plenty clear that Baron would reap the punishment if she tried to flee anywhere beyond the building. And she couldn't run forever – even though her older self was stronger and more toned than she remembered being in her teens. She had kept herself in shape, and she had no doubts that this was the influence of the Bureau. After all, circumstances like this meant she had to be.
Then again, even in shape, it was hard to run when one leg shot up with pain at every step.
No, she couldn't keep running.
And that left just one option.
To fight back.
She was bitterly sure her older self would have ideas – heck, her older self probably knew how to fight – but her current mental self, her young teenager self, didn't. Still, that didn't mean she couldn't try.
She had found her way to a corridor of offices, presumably once filled with scientists busy with their research and composing lectures for the students who passed through the university. But now they were empty, left in various states of abandonment. As quietly as she could manage, Haru peeked into the ones she passed in vain hope that something that could have weapon potential was just lying around. Some of the rooms were in pristine condition, as if its resident professor had just gone for the day and was still coming back; other rooms were in disarray with their filing undone and their papers scattered. It looked like, as they lost their memories, some of the professors had resorted to tearing apart their office for clues into their own past.
Haru quickly went past those rooms.
She passed by many of these offices, each as empty and useless as the one before it. There was still no sign of Zaroff, but he wouldn't be far behind. She picked up her pace, the carpet mercifully muffling each limping step. She reached the end of the corridor and found herself standing in the doorway before the bridge that passed over the reception.
She hesitated there, glancing down to the repeating bridges below. It didn't matter that she couldn't see anyone; if she tried to cross it then she would be utterly out in the open. The rooms behind her – and all others that edged the opening – had windows that faced out to the bridges. Zaroff could easily be watching from any of them.
She was about to turn around and head back the way she had come – climb yet another set of stairs in pursuit of a weapon or device more convenient than the knife – when she realised something.
On the other side of the divide, on the other side of the bridge, were the laboratories; one on each floor.
Haru hadn't been in many laboratories – in fact, the only ones she remembered were the small classroom ones she had used in school, and they were really just glorified desks with gas taps attached. But, still, there would have to be something she could use. Chemicals, scientific apparatus, perhaps just a well-aimed laboratory stool would do the trick.
She would have to risk it.
She let the door swing softly shut behind her, listening hard for any sign that the sound had been heard. She took one gentle step across the bridge – and froze when the footstep flared up into an echo in the empty, open space.
The sound bounced off the walls and came back down upon her – this time coupled with the new sound of another door – somewhere – opening. She jolted into action – and she ran for the laboratory.
Every step that her injured leg took sent shivers of pain shaking through her. She gritted her teeth. She kept going. It was move or die – and the survival instinct was winning. She was running, but it was agony. Through ragged gasps, she threw her gaze everywhere across that open space – trying desperately to see where Zaroff was coming from. To see from where he would shoot.
She turned too sharply and put too much weight on her injured side. It gave way and she wheeled to her left.
A bullet hit where she had been but mere moments ago.
She glanced upwards and saw that Zaroff was leaning out of one of the office windows, his gun aimed and quickly readjusting for her new position. Their gazes met. From the way he was watching her, she knew he was waiting for her to move. He'd shoot her down the moment she got back up to run.
So she didn't.
She shot forward using her right leg, propelling herself towards the laboratory door but not rising like he had been expecting. His second bullet struck too far up and jammed itself into a patch of floor a metre before Haru.
With his double-barrel gun now exhausted of bullets (Haru hoped, although she was no gun expert – she assumed) she pushed herself up using the same momentum in which she had started forward, and ran the remaining half-dozen metres to the laboratory.
The entrance wasn't locked and so she easily pushed one of the double-sided doors open, but had to pause and glance back to the General.
He was still watching her, but the gun was no longer raised in her direction. And instead of irritation at his miss, he was smirking. Her little trick had amused him as if he were starting to think she might be more interesting to hunt than he had first assumed. But he wasn't worried – interesting she might be making this, but he didn't honestly believe she would win this.
She was no threat.
Haru jolted inside the laboratory and slammed the door shut behind her.
ooOoo
Baron had watched the proceedings with horror; he couldn't see the exact events very well from his viewpoint on the ground floor, but he heard the gunshots. After the first one, there was a silence in which time seemed to slow down. The shout for Haru died in his throat as all the breath went from him. As every long, tortuous second ticked by – a second in which he was without Haru – the guilt flooded him. He had brought her here – had let her go on alone after that fall from the bridge, had inadvertently put her in the path of Zaroff and let this crazed game go ahead.
The second gunshot started time again.
A second bullet needed meant the quarry was still kicking. Even as the thought crossed Baron's mind, he heard the echo of Haru's footsteps pound across one of the bridges and, then, silence again. It was shorter this time, but every second where Haru was silent was a second where Haru could be gone. But then there was a quick succession of steps and the slam of a heavy set of doors banging shut.
She had put a door between her and Zaroff – for now.
Baron started to pull anew at the binds that held him, but they remained steadfast. He glanced round to the laboratory doors on the ground floor – the ones where Dawson, Michael, and the rest of the Bureau had disappeared into. If they hadn't come out running at the sound of the gunshots, then they probably hadn't heard the gunshots at all. The laboratory doors were thick, after all; sound and precious else travelled well through them. No; right now he was on his own.
He started to struggle again, but with a new task in hand. He curled his fingers down to the bottom of his gloves and attempted to grip on them. At such a small action, it was surprisingly painful; his fingers almost entirely flattened against his palm at an acute angle that wasn't intended. But his little finger and ring finger snared the hem of his glove on his right hand, and he tugged off the white gloves in jerky, awkward movements. They dropped to the floor behind him.
He flexed his fingers, running the tips over his nails – or, more accurately, his claws – and reassuring himself that they were sufficient. They weren't long – otherwise they would have ruined the gloves long ago – but they were sharp, and they were strong.
He twisted his hands around, acutely aware that the binds that restrained his wrists were the same ones restraining the unconscious Baker's. If he moved too quickly, too sharply, he could jolt her awake. Instead he managed to bring his hands angled so that he could score at the bindings with his newly-freed claws.
At first he thought it was the awkward angle, but he was tiring quickly. He was having to blink back the exhaustion, not helped by the headache that was threatening to rise up. For a moment there was an overwhelming feeling of disorientation when he didn't know where he was – why wasn't he at the Bureau? His memory snapped back into place a moment after that, but it was enough to know.
Enough to know the disease was creeping over him. Perhaps he had already lost some memories but, unable to recollect them, was unable to know what he was missing.
He started to cut at the bindings again.
ooOoo
It would take Zaroff a while to catch up to the laboratory, Haru knew, but it was only a matter of time and she needed every second to count. She needed time to prepare her returning attack.
She turned back to the laboratory and surveyed the damage before her. This was one of the places touched by the madness; perhaps scientists had even been in here trying to find a cure when their memories decayed into nothing. Petri dishes and beakers lay smashed across the room; on the work benches Bunsen burners stood like the last line of soldiers, still at attention even as all else had fallen apart.
She snatched up one of the burners and secured the metal neck between both handles of the double-doors. It wouldn't last for long – a few good shoves and it would come loose – but it would be enough to delay Zaroff for a few seconds longer. More importantly, it would act as an alarm for his arrival.
She limped through the laboratory – there was no point in stealth now; he knew exactly where she was – and began to hoist open every cupboard she could find. Weight scales, tweezers, test tubes and test tube racks scattered across the floor with her ragged search. Petri dishes, some with agar, others without, fell from another cupboard; the ones with agar were now coloured with the invasion of fungi and bacteria. Haru almost broke her toes when another cupboard revealed a microscope that toppled out onto her foot.
Along the long wall of the laboratory, fuming cupboards stood – large, glass-fronted cupboards with vents at the top to minimise the risk of dangerous gaseous chemicals extending into the rest of the room. Inside some of these, intact bottles of chemicals still remained.
Haru pushed one of the cupboard windows upwards to open it up and leant forward to examine the bottles. All had long, chemical names that she didn't understand, but some of the labels were aided by warning signs. One had an elaborate symbol with the convenient definition 'corrosive' added beneath it.
Haru quickly decided she like the look of that one.
She grabbed a cloth from the side and used that to pick up the bottle – anything labelled as 'corrosive' wasn't something she was going to be handling with her bare hands – and set it onto the work bench behind her before searching through the rest for equally-dangerous labels. More began to join the first and she started to feel a little bit more prepared. Although she would have to get close enough to him to throw the bottles' contents over Zaroff, but she would cross that particular bridge when she got to it.
The rattle of the Bunsen burner lodged between the door handles put a hasty stop to her searching. She froze, looking back and seeing the intimidating form of the General in the frosted glass windows of the doors. She grabbed a couple of the closest ones and – instead of running away like every instinct told her to – ran towards the doors.
The Bunsen burner gave way and the General slammed into the laboratory, but Haru was already at the entrance. She was ready. So when Zaroff appeared from between the doors she threw the contents of one of the bottles over him.
There was a pause. A long one where a whole lot of nothing seemed to be happening, only a rather confused duo; Zaroff in trying to understand Haru's action and Haru in trying to understand just what had gone wrong. She glanced down at the now-empty bottle.
The angry black cross symbol that she had taken to be a good sign of toxicity was indeed present on the bottle, but that there were also tiny words imprinted below it. She could just about make out 'poisonous to ingest' She groaned.
A slow, humoured smile spread across Zaroff's face. "Is that really your best shot?" He raised the gun and aimed it towards the stricken brunette. "Honestly, after your previous little display I had hoped for something a little bit more impressive. You disappoint me."
"I wouldn't count on it." Haru threw out the contents of the second bottle over the man and this time there was a definite reaction. He screamed. The gun was dropped and he attempted to wipe away the corrosive liquid. Some of the splashback from the attack had hit Haru – not much, just a few spots – and she was aware of a searing pain digging into her arms. And the General had had a much more generous dose.
She took the opportunity to kick the gun away from Zaroff; she overshot and it slid across the polished floor, through the open doors, and toppled off the bridge between the gap beneath the railings. She heard it hit the floor many metres below.
She started to run, but Zaroff wasn't letting her go that easily. Even in utter agony, his hand found her wrist. Her momentum meant she slammed into the wall and then her injured leg gave way beneath her. It had finally had enough.
She tried to push herself back to her feet, but all the strength that had been holding her up had sapped from her. She could feel that the fall had opened up the wound and it was bleeding again beneath the bandages. She dropped a hand to her leg and her palm came away wet and sticky, as blood seeped between the bindings. A tired kind of resignation settled into her and apathy hit her limbs. The adrenaline had finally surpassed its peak and all she wanted to do was sleep.
Before her, Zaroff was still reeling; he was trying to find his gun but, with his disorientation, hadn't discovered that it was gone yet. Slumped against the wall and suddenly lacking the strength to get up, Haru watched Zaroff spin on the spot searching for his weapon. He grew frustrated quickly and drew out a knife from his side.
Haru dimly recalled that she had had a knife like that too – what exactly had she done with it? Ah, there it was... on the work bench with the remaining harmful chemicals she had managed to find. Far, far out of reach.
She looked back to the General and he was staggering his way towards her. He was slow – still dizzy from Haru's attack – but Haru wasn't going anywhere. She kicked feebly out with her feet, hoping to aim for his shins when they came within reach. With a revival of survival instinct, she turned her head to the doors and screamed out for the one person she trusted to save her.
Even if she remembered nothing about him.
ooOoo
How long had he been at work at this?
Come to that, what was even going on? He knew he was in a situation – but that covered most, if not all, of Bureau work. That practically encompassed all of it, come to think of it. The real question was just how much of a situation it was and where exactly everyone else was. He hoped they were safe.
Because the real inconvenience of memory loss, Baron felt, was the lack of context. Especially in situations like this. He was going to break free any moment now – the bindings were almost falling off him now thanks to his work – but, after that, what then? Should he be running away or running towards? And just what was there to run to or from anyway?
This would be a whole lot easier if someone else could fill him in on the gaps. Especially since the last thing he remembered was settling down to deal with the paperwork after a particularly harrowing case involving a lost witch's cat.
He couldn't even ask Baker, who was well and truly unconscious.
The last fibre of the rope gave way and his wrists came free. He moved his hands out from behind his back and massaged the feeling back into them. He picked up his gloves and pulled them back on. There. Everything was back to normal except... ah, there was his cane. Kicked out under the sofa.
He stood slowly up, the muscles in his body telling him he had been sitting down for quite a while and had kind of settled into place at the inactivity. He gently moved Baker so that she was leaning against one of the sofas, now she no longer had him to rest against. He rolled his shoulders, expecting the ache that came at the movement, and finally swept his cane off the floor.
Now all there was, was to find the rest of the Bureau and work out exactly what was going on. He knelt down by Baker and tried to nudge her awake. Even when friendly, it was best to wake sirens with the utmost care. Muta had almost lost his tail a few times that way.
Baker winced and the beginnings of consciousness trickled back into her. Her eyes slowly blinked open and then focused on Baron. "Who–" she started, and then, upon seeing his appearance, changed it to, "What are you?"
A small smile settled over Baron's features. Only Baker would change the politer 'who are you?' into the blunt 'what are you?' with conscious thought. But her question indicated that he wasn't the only one with the memory loss.
"I am a Creation, Darcy Baker; at your service." Since he was kneeling, he resorted to a quick tipping of his tophat. "I take it you remember as little as I do as to how we ended up here then?"
The half-siren groaned, wincing as she gradually woke up further. "No, no..." she murmured. "I remember a little. Some of it is coming back now." Her eyes narrowed and she glared at the feline. "Who hit me?"
Baron smiled again and gave a little shrug. "Unfortunately, that is beyond my knowledge at this moment in time. I had hoped you would be able to fill in the blanks as I do not remember even coming to this world."
Darcy Baker watched Baron carefully, her eyes narrowing as if to try to perceive if this was a trick. She must have found her answer, though, for she murmured, "You're serious... You were telling the truth earlier – something really is stripping people of their memories." Her face soured. "Don't expect me to help you though. Maybe a lot of time has passed and I really did change in those years, but I don't remember them. I don't remember you."
Baron paused. A few things clicked into place with Baker's words. "How... little do you remember?" he slowly asked.
"Last time I checked, I was back in my hometown."
"So if you don't remember me, then... you'd only discovered you were a siren at the time," Baron murmured. "Which means..." He remembered what their initial meeting had been like and it wasn't pretty. In fact, it had been their most dangerous case to date for a long time.
Something of his thoughts must have visibly passed over his face, for the half-siren snorted and said, "Oh, relax. I'm not about to butcher anyone – not yet, anyway." All the same, she fidgeted as she spoke, as if physically having to restrain the bloodlust. It didn't do much to install confidence into the Creation.
At that moment, something fell from one of the floors above and smacked into the ground between them. Both individuals paused, and glanced down to the gun that had apparently just fallen out of the sky.
Baker was the first to move, casually picking up the weapon and looking down the barrel of the gun to see the damage. "Not too bad; it might even shoot still..." She glanced up to the floors above. "But where...?"
"BARON!"
The Creation's head shot up. That voice... he didn't think he recognised it, but the owner definitely knew him. And it sounded like she needed help. He started into a sprint towards the stairs, just hoping that he could get there in time. To his surprise, the half-siren caught up with him. "Baker! What... are you doing?"
"Hey, it sounds like something's going on up there," Baker replied. She gave a fanged smile. "There's not a chance I'd miss out on action like that."
Baron just had to hope she wouldn't end up shooting a friend.
Whoever this friend was.
ooOoo
Instinct surged up through Haru at the last moment. The last residual trace of survival energy propelled her into action as the knife came down. She pushed off against the wall. As she rolled away, the blade hit the plaster; she turned back and kicked into Zaroff's legs. He staggered back and Haru dragged herself to her feet, supporting herself on the nearest workbench.
Zaroff grabbed her ankle and stopped her in her tracks. She kicked back at him again, clinging onto the edge of the workbench and dragging herself back. Her fingers brushed one of the bottles; it spun on the spot, tilting towards her for a moment before falling past her grip and smashing onto the floor.
She winced and recoiled as the liquid spilt onto her jacket. Her fingers passed over the bottles and snagged on the knife she had so carelessly left on the surface. She slashed back towards the General, missing him but forcing him to retreat back. He released her and she scooted further back. Where was Baron?!
Using the scattered stools, she hauled herself away and limped towards the door. Zaroff kicked at her and she collapsed forward just as the double-doors opened and she fell into the arms of a familiar Creation. Despite everything, she blushed.
"B-Baron?"
The tawny feline looked to the brunette with mild confusion. "And who are you?" He couldn't deny she was a fetching young woman, but he wasn't aware that he knew her. She blinked up at him, gears slowly whirring.
"Oh... not you too."
There was the sound of movement from behind and she remembered the situation at hand.
"But... let's perhaps talk about this later. In case you hadn't noticed, we kind of have a problem." She glanced back to Zaroff, who had stumbled back to his feet and was still armed with his knife. "Tell me you have a plan..."
"Plan?" Baron echoed. "Until thirty seconds ago, I wasn't aware what was even going on... I'm not sure I do even now." He shifted round so that he was standing before the young woman, cane in hand. "But I'm well-rehearsed in the art of improvisation."
"Oh really? Great." Haru turned around and saw that they had a newcomer; the recently-awoken half-siren. "Oh, really?" she repeated weakly. "Great. Baron...?"
"Uh-huh."
"What is she doing out here? Isn't she trying to kill us?"
"Not right now."
"If you're lucky, it might even stay that way," Darcy added, smiling with a mouth full of teeth. She raised the discarded gun from earlier and aimed it towards the General. "Right, time to see whether this beauty still works."
"Baker, we can work this out without violence," Baron reasoned.
"No, Baron; we really can't. Move, General, and I blow your head off."
The man froze, glaring at the half-human through his blistering skin. "I should have just killed you long ago, without the game. You're nothing but a monster."
"So I've been told," Darcy replied. She shot him through the head.
Haru screamed and Baron simply tensed at the gunshot. "I told you there was no need for violence," he said quietly.
The half-siren lowered her weapon. "And I disagreed. Anyway, the matter's over now."
Haru couldn't tear her eyes away from the body as it slumped forward and finally collapsed onto the polished floor. The entrance wound of the bullet was only the size of a penny, but the exit was a gaping hole in the back of his head; a mass of red mess that pooled over his hair and onto the ground.
"We should go," she whispered. She dragged her gaze away, trying to look anywhere but at the corpse. Was this something that she regularly dealt with when working with the Bureau? Perhaps when Darcy Baker was involved, but by the way Baron had reacted, she doubted this was commonplace. "Dawson will still be working on a cure."
ooOoo
"I don't believe I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance since my memory loss." As the trio sat in the ground floor laboratory, reunited with their companions, Baron addressed the young woman. "My name is Baron Humbert von Gikkingen–"
"Yes, I know who you are." Haru sat on one of the tall laboratory stools, her toes only just brushing the floor as she leant precariously on the seat. She watched the toe of her boots trace patterns in the dust. "You introduced yourself to me after I lost my memory."
"And how exactly did you get entangled with this fiasco?"
Haru shifted her gaze up to the Creation. "According to what you told me earlier, I apparently work with you guys." She nodded back to where Muta and Toto were racing each other around the laboratory. With the General gone and the Doctor working steadily on a cure, the atmosphere had somewhat relaxed. "I'm part of the Bureau," she added when the feline didn't react immediately.
"I see."
Haru's face fell a little. "Do you really not remember me?"
"Have we known each other... long?"
"I... I don't know. I can't remember." 'But I had thought... hoped... that something might remain... I could see the love you held for my future self – can it really have just disappeared without a trace?' "But we met once when I was in school. You told me that you rescued me from an unwanted marriage..." She trailed off as she sensed some final spark of realisation trickle into the Creation. "What?"
"What... did you say your name was again?"
"Haru. Haru Yoshioka."
Baron blinked several times over the span of a single second. The gears were whirring. "Haru? But you're... I mean..." He shook his head. "How many years have I missed?"
"Well, I apparently graduated university and left home a good six years ago," Haru said, "so you must be somewhere between that and... about a year ago?"
Baron hesitated. "You came back."
"What can I say?" Haru shrugged. "I guessed I missed you."
"AHA!"
Both individuals leapt out of their seats as Dawson gave a cry of triumph.
"Have you done it?" Haru asked. "Have you found a cure?"
"Almost," replied the Doctor. "I've definitely worked out why Michael was immune. Have you heard of smallpox?"
Haru shook her head. "It sounds like a disease."
"It is," Baron answered. "A very nasty disease that, fortunately, has been eradicated since the eighties."
"And that was because an English physician and scientist, Edward Jenner, discovered that people who caught cowpox didn't suffer from the much-worse smallpox. He introduced the first successful vaccine in known history."
"Well, that's great and all, but unless this is the rebirth of smallpox, what's your point?" Haru asked.
"Well, Michael here helpfully came with a cold," the Doctor replied, unaffected by the brunette's blunt words. He probably faced retorts like that on a daily basis when working with Baker. "A cold that seems to carry much the same effect on the disease as cowpox did on smallpox. Of course, it's going to take a good few hours before I can create anything that would work but... well, after that we'll be cured." James Dawson grinned to the group. "We can go home."
ooOoo
"So..." Michael sat at the desk of the closed pet store and gave a long, low, and thoughtful whistle. "That's what you do in your spare time. It would explain our first meeting."
Haru smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry."
"I guess this also explains why you suddenly disappear from time-to-time..." Michael's voice trailed off as he recalled the unintended adventure he'd gone through that day, absent-mindedly stroking a purring Muta who had, unabashedly, invited himself in after the duo. "Haru... should I be worried for you?"
"Worried?" Haru scoffed. "What for?"
"I've seen the world you operate in – and it's a long way away from the mundaneness of a little town pet store," he said, motioning to the shop around him. "It's dangerous – back there today, you could have gotten yourself killed – you almost did! On several occasions!"
"To be fair, she only gets herself nearly killed about once on your average Bureau case," Muta added from the sidelines. "Anyway, Baron would never let anything like that happen."
"I'm just aware that Baron won't always be there for her," Michael retorted. Given the events of the last day, he seemed to have got over his shock of a talking cat and was taking the whole thing in his stride now. He even seemed to enjoy the feline's presence. Michael looked back to Haru. "You may not remember it, but there were several times when you were on your own."
"I can handle myself."
"No, I saw that," the young man answered honestly. "Under normal circumstances – but today was evidently not normal. Haru, you thought you were a teenager, you had no recollection of the Bureau, and you had no idea how to defend yourself in that state. What about the next time something like that happens?"
"Again, to be fair," Muta repeated, "that's the first time that's happened."
"I'm not giving up my Bureau work," Haru warned him.
"No, I'm not asking that. I can see you... well, you enjoy it. And I can't ask you to give something that obviously means so much to you up. All I'm asking is... well... be careful." Michael smiled softly. "And tell me when something is going on. I know I probably can't help – I haven't got the experience like you do and I'm not about to jump into another world any time soon – but I do appreciate knowing what madness is going on in your life. It won't stop me worrying, but I'd rather know you were in... Atlantis swimming with the sharks than knowing nothing at all."
"Michael, I ... I wasn't expecting that." The young woman grinned, not afraid to admit she was completely surprised by his answer. "Thank you – for understanding." She leant forward and kissed him. "I was so afraid that if I let my two lives combine, I'd risk losing one. And I don't want to lose you."
"Well, don't be afraid. I'll always be here, in the world of sanity and normality," Michael returned happily. "Whenever you need me, my door will always be open."
Muta got up and scarpered out of the shop. "I'm getting out of here. This mush is bad enough back at the Bureau..."
ooOoo
Inspired by:
The Most Dangerous Game. (AKA: The Hounds of Zaroff) Written by Richard Connell.
Terra Nova: What Remains. Directed by Nelson McCormick. Written by Brynn Malone.
ooOoo
A/N: Yes, after several requests, I decided to bring Baker and Dawson back for this case. They were my favourite OCs (bar Michael) from the first series, and I hoped you enjoyed their return.
ooOoo
Next Story: Wonderful Thoughts
Teaser: It was something of fairytales, something of myths and legends – but the stories had never spoken of such wide jaws or such long fangs. / "Ah... Captain Hook, I take it." / "Stop muttering and walk the plank!" / Where are we, birdbrain?" "If I wanted a safe bet, I'd say in trouble." / "I'm guessing you would just hate to lose your furry friend here..." /
"Wonderful thoughts," she whispered, and stepped off the plank.
