It had taken her a few months to get the energy up to find Jack. Her body insisted on her resting, and Seymon had taken it upon himself to look after her. So she spent a couple of months in the warmer climes of the south of France, Jack could wait a little longer. Her ship had kept an eye on him as he'd wandered around again, finally settling in some godforsaken place in Wales. It alerted her only now to his impending danger, the warning sound on her wrist strap annoyingly insistent as she ran through the streets of Cardiff.
It was dark and raining yet again. This planet must be cursed, its always raining she thought to herself. She pounded down the streets, searching for his bolt hole. The one place he would hide. From what she knew about him, he had never been a coward, dumb more than anything, act first think later, but this time he wouldn't have time to think. She skidded to a halt, to stare up at a street sign. Chapel of St John. Instinct told her he'll be close to that.
Ironic, Apparently they used to call Hart, St John. Sarcasm had still not been phased out in the 51st century. She stifled a snort at the memory of John lying naked in the alley apart from his own smelly socks stuffed in his mouth
She stepped up the pace, her ripped long jacket flying behind her as she ran. Her heels clicked on the cobbles almost in time to the rain. Lamplight softly illuminated the street, reflected back by the puddles. The slow lazy light disturbed as she raced through each puddle, oblivious of the water splash. Storm clouds chased the low simple rain clouds away. Each one tumbling over itself, in desperation to be the thunderhead. The air tingled she could taste the ozone as the air readied itself for a lighting bolt.
A flash lit up one side of her face, her hair plastered to her head. The rain beat a fast tempo on the cobles. A thunder clap rolled over her. But still she kept running. She liked running, made her feel alive. But this time she was running to save a life, Maybe two.
The gods must hate this place, its all rain, hills and bloody sheep she thought.
~~oOo~~
Inside a house, not far from the running woman, a clock chimed the hour. Almost midnight. A haggard lonely soul stood in front of the window watching the rain pound aimlessly against the glass. In the clouds fight for the thunderhead he caught a glimpse of the moon. Its brightness sudden and fleeting, made him shudder, he felt as though millions of eyes were watching him, waiting for a mistake. He shuddered,
That's the drug talking you know Jack,
Phire's voice echoed in his ears, He turned back to the mirror and stood there looking into his own eyes, watching someone else staring back at him through his own eyes was disturbing.
"You used me" he accused. In his head he heard the reply.
"I'm sorry. I had little choice in the matter."
"I've gone through hell, because you wouldn't let me die. When I wanted to die and rid myself of this… this"
"Addiction?" the voice in his head asked
"Yes this, this dependency." It was the first time he could admit that it wasn't something he controlled. It was something controlling him, making him in to the monster he had been. He didn't like being controlled. Death had been an option. Die and he would loose all physical desire for the drug. He would only have to fight the memory of it. He was good at burying memories. He'd been controlled by a simple drug … and Phire. She'd always been a control freak, and she'd used that same control on him. He hated her. If she' wasn't stuck in head he would have seriously thought about knocking seven bells out of her.
I know what you are thinking. Her voice echoed in the emptiness of his skull
"MMM"
Would like to have seen you try. I was three classes above you.
Gods he hated that woman, He hated the drug, he hated everything at the moment and the killer was, that he hated himself at the moment. He'd become an echo of himself, he was nothing.
Don't carry on this train of thought. You are something. Without you we cannot be. The agency created Flick, You were there, and you're just starting the path the gods laid out.
"Don't start that with me."
Look, without you Flick would have disbanded the Agency before it even started. Steele, Roo, Hart, L'beth, Viktor and all the others would have lead mundane little lives; the universe would have been a much more dangerous place. Steele would never had been able to save your home world, Hart would have never got out of the T'sha zone
"Maybe that would have been a good thing, Keep the psycho in with the other murdering time bastards"
True, but without you….
"I'm not normal any more Phire. I'm a nothing, a non entity"
You are something, something important. You've become an immobile force that only a certain few will be able to tame and their time is not for some years.
You're a necessity, you need to grow, leave childish things behind you. You will be required to make choices and live with them. You will need to make the ultimate sacrifice again and again. This place, this infant planet needs a guard and the gods chose you. So far this little world is unaware of its future. Come the 21st Century this world will change inalterably, and you will be needed to guide it, everything changes then.
He grunted not sure of himself to speak.
You're worried,
"HMMM what if I make a mistake?"
Make them, it's the only way you'll learn.
"And this planet?"
Needs you to make the mistakes. – Do you think in the three hundred years I've been around I've not made any? Biggest one of my life was telling Flick my secret
He raised his eyebrows in a questioning gesture.
No Jack, It's not for you to know that one yet.
~~oOo~~
She skidded round a corner, the puddles betraying the undulating cobbles beneath her feet. She grabbed a Lamp post to keep herself upright. The house has got to be here somewhere. Another corner another puddle,, this one sent her stumbling against a wall. She righted herself and found herself facing across the street a small brick built house. A bright red door clashed against the dullness of the street. A single light in the first floor window shone like a beacon. Gut instinct told her it was this one.
She knocked loudly and impatiently on the door. After an eternity an old woman answered.
"Hello?"
"I'm sorry but I'm looking for a man"
The old woman spluttered.
"So am I dear, but not at this house. Try the one further down the lane"
"No you misunderstand. I'm looking for a man who may be living here, Tall, Thin, rather attractive, Dark Hair. Sad haunted eyes."
The old woman nodded "You mean the Harkness man. He's a strange one. Always mumbling to himself… is he alright" the old woman made the universal sign for unstable. "I won't have mad people here. They do allsorts of damage"
"Where is he?
"Upstairs took the whole floor. Pays well for a mad person"
Cornelia took the steps two at time, Pausing slightly out of breath. Her hand subconsciously moved down to her stomach. Her once toned stomach bulged giving away its secret. Already she fancied she could feel the child wiggling under her fingers. She should hate Hart for what he did, but despite everything he'd been fun. Shaking herself back to now, she grabbed the balustrade and swung herself round to climb the next flight of stairs. She saw the light spill from under the door at the end of the short hallway. The door was locked and double bolted. Stepping back she squared her should and launched herself in its direction.
~~oOo~~
Jack sighed, "I never get told anything"
Think of the fun you'll have finding out. Phire replied
The door bulged inwards straining against the lock, as someone threw themselves against it
"Jack? JACK Answer Damn you!" a woman's voice called through the wood.
Are you ready? If there was another way I would take it, but this is the only way I know so that we can safely separate
"Slightly Scared"
Of dying? Phire asked slightly surprised
"Of the future"
Don't be, it's not something you can change
He picked up the short blade he'd stolen.
"I've been killed a few times, but never taken my own life." He stared at his upturned wrists.
"Will it hurt?" he asked. Mentally he could feel her shrug.
Did the other times you died hurt?
"Yeah Hurt like Hell, but its coming back that's worse." He couldn't stop fighting himself; he didn't want to do this.
Gods above Jack! Let me, you're not a suicide
He could hear the door slowly splintering and Cornelia shouting at him to open it. With a small smile at the mirror he felt the blade of the knife being dragged across a wrist, he sucked in a breath as the pain blossomed.
With a shaking hand he turned the knife round and slit the other. Crimson ribbons of blood seeped from the wounds and trailed down his palms, slowly coagulating then dripping from his fingers to the filthy carpet below. He could feel his energy drain away. Not quick enough. Cornelia would try to save him, he knew that. Phire placed the tip of the blade against his chest. He could hear Phire's weakened voice talking to herself.
Up a little and to the left, The heart isn't in the middle of the chest she instructed herself before she plunged the knife deep in.
He could feel the shock, the pain, the insistent beat of the heart slowing, beating against the knife. His warm blood ran down his arm before he released his hold on the knife.
The door finally gave way and Cornelia stumbled through it just as he dropped to his knees. Time around him slowed he could feel his breathing ragged and painful. Everything became clearer. Colours appeared bright in the dirty carpet. Slight strands of grey could be seen in Cornelia's hair as she came towards him, the lilac lining of her coat flapping around her. His knees collapsed pitching him forward, he hadn't the energy to stop it. The blade pushed deeper in. He could feel the vibration of her feet running across the floor. His vision tunnelled, the blackness enveloping him. He could feel her manhandle him over and rest his head on her lap. The warmth of his own body abandoned him. His breath became ragged and the damaged heart tried to pump what little blood was left in him up to his brain. He felt her tears splash on to his face. The last thing he hear was Cornelia choke back a cry.
"You Stupid Stupid man!"
