Written with no intent of profit, and no intent to harm anyone's copyright.
Who is Kiley? Who is Kiley? Sheesh, guys, do you think I'm going to make this easy?
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Kiley entered the latest random town on her journey and sighed when she saw the crowd. So far she hadn't made it through one town without having to save someone from something, and the crowd before her didn't bode well for her chances of making it through this one unscathed.
The last town she had been in, she had managed to save three small girls from a house fire. The time before that, it had been rescuing a man who had been dared to climb a nearby cliff, and then froze in fear when he was halfway from anywhere. Then there was that stampede that had threatened a family on the road, which wasn't properly in a town, but a couple miles out. There hadn't been any more outlaws, but she had rescued a young wife and her child from an enraged and well-armed, drunken sot of a husband. She put the fear of god into him; it wasn't likely he'd be drinking again.
The incidents blurred in her mind as she tried to recall them. She was tired, tired of running and tired of saving people, over and over and over again. Couldn't any of these folks save themselves? Unfortunately the answer seemed to be a resounding no. She wasn't used to being surrounded by people without her sort of special skills. Her little tricks made it possible for her to reach people that others couldn't, and her training had left her with the experience that few of these town folk seemed to have.
She sighed, pausing a few blocks away from the group to give her time to find her resolve. She could do this, whatever it was. And it was likely that no one else on this planet could. In all good conscience, she couldn't walk away and leave whoever was hurt or missing, or in trouble, or whatever it was now to their own devices. It wasn't right. She tried to tell her tired body that, tried to convince her sore muscles that continuing on was the right thing to do, and after a minor struggle she managed to start moving forward again.
She reached the crowd and asked a grizzled old fellow to her left what the problem was.
"There's no problem, missy," he said shooting her a glance that lasted long enough to be a stare. "We just found water, that's all. Down there in those caves," he said, making a vague gesture towards the front of the crowd, "we have found an actual stream of running water. There's enough there for everyone in town, and then some."
"Oh." He turned at her lackluster response and frowned.
"Sorry," she responded with a smile. "I'm a little tired from my journey, that's all. Do you know if there's an inn about? A place I can get some sleep?"
He pointed to her right and said, "It's about three blocks in that direction."
She nodded her thanks and turned to go, relieved that, for once, it appeared she hadn't arrived just in time for trouble. She arrived at the inn and registered for the night. She ordered a meal, dined, and retired to her much anticipated period of slumber.
The moons danced through the sky, and the revelry around the mouth to the cave abated as people sought their beds. Suddenly, a cry rose up, a mother's voice piercing the quiet night with panic.
"My son, Rogel! Has anyone seen Rogel? Roooogel? Where are you?" Her cries echoed through the streets, calling back the people who had left and waking those who had already sought their beds.
Kiley was one of those. The cry sank through her unconsciousness, echoing through her dreams and pulling her out of sleep. The distress of the mother radiated towards her and only grew as others joined her search with no results.
Kiley sighed and sat up, rubbing her eyes in the hope that it would make her feel more awake. It didn't. So much for this being a quiet town, she thought as she threw back the covers and started to dress. The wails took on a greater note of distress as she was pulling on her boots. Grabbing her gun, she tied the holster around her as she hurried to the scene of turmoil.
What greeted her was a sight of chaos. People scurried here and there in a frenzied jumble like ants after the hill has been crushed, but unlike ants there was no purpose to their movements. After a quick survey of the scene she grabbed the arm of the man nearest to her and asked what the problem was.
"It's Rogel. He's gone missing, and were afraid that he's gone in the caves," replied the man before shaking her off. Nodding to herself she walked up to the knot of people that had surrounded the hysterical woman. She listened to her sob as those around her tried to offer comfort. Her husband held her in his arms as she suffered through the loss of her child.
Bloody good way to waste time, Kiley thought. She shouldn't have the breakdown until after the child is safe. A child of maybe eleven years stood nearby but excluded from the group of people surrounding his parents. He stared at them, and at those giving comfort while he was ignored. A wry smile twisted Kiley's mouth as she walked towards him and squatted back on her heels, lowering her head to his level.
"What's the problem," she asked him calmly.
"My, my brother's gone. We can't find him. Mama told him not to go in the caves, but we can't find him out of the caves and there's no other places to look anymore." The words tripped out almost faster then his tongue could supply them, blurring together in his haste to tell someone, anyone, even this stranger what was wrong.
Kiley put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. "I'll find him," she told the boy. "SAR. It's my job." At the boy's blank look she smiled and rose. "In the caves, right? I'll get him out."
He stared after her as she walked towards the mouth of the caves. A couple men at the entrance tried to bar her way.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but you can't go in there," said the men positioned to the left of the entrance.
Kiley didn't waste words on the man. Instead she crossed her arms and gave him a piercing look.
"Why not?" she asked quietly, injecting menace into her voice. She was tired more then she was pissed, but the sooner this kid was found the sooner she could go back to bed. Sleep beckoned, and she wanted to follow.
The man had the grace to look uncomfortable. "It's very easy to get lost down there. There are lots of corridors and shafts leading in all sorts of directions. It's a bloody maze. Sounds echo all around, and the rushing water roars the closer you get to it, covering all other sounds and adding to the disorientation. We're getting some of the men who know the cave to try to find him; we just have to wait for them to get to town."
She nodded, and asked "How long is that supposed to take?"
The other man replied, "It should only be another few hours."
She rolled her eyes. "A couple of hours is a very long time," she said as she started to push past them. They tried to stop her but couldn't seem to grab her to slow her down. "I can do a little spelunking in the interim, maybe save your boys some trouble," she shot back over her shoulder.
A couple of hours, she fumed as she wandered through the cave. Do those fools know how much trouble a child can get into in that amount of time? The cave twisted and turned around, moving back upon itself and generally tried to be as confusing as possible. She walked with one hand stretched before her, feeling for any obstacles that might bloody her face. After she deemed enough time had passed, she stopped for a moment and listened. She could hear the water coming form somewhere in front of her, and intermittently she could hear a wail. She smiled grimly, a picture of determination lost in the dark, then concentrated for a moment. In front of her face a patch of air began to glow, faintly at first but growing brighter as she waited.
When she was done she had a torch without the wood, a flame suspended in midair, merrily consuming oxygen without a catalyst. When it was bright enough for her she resumed her journey, the ball of fire leading her way a pace ahead.
Finding the child wasn't difficult for her. While the strange twisty nature of the cave distorted the sounds of his cries, making them seem eerily close or far away within a few steps, she didn't need to follow them. His mind was bright with panic before her, and all she needed to do was find the right combination of paths to reach him.
It took her almost two hours, two hours of wandering and doubling back on her trail when she reached a terminus to a promising path, but she finally found him. She doused her light as soon as she saw him. The picture that remained with her was one of a grubby little boy, maybe six years old, face streaked with tears and dust looking at her hopefully. When the light went out he started to cry again, but he wasn't able to choke out the first sob before he was in her arms.
She felt little fingers grasp her arms with a grip that was going to leave little finger-shaped bruises. She held him as he sobbed into her chest, giving him comfort as best she could. He was explaining that he had only wanted to see the water, but his words were lost in hiccups.
"Shh, shh, it's ok. I'm here, you're safe, it's alright," she whispered in his ear, words of reassurance and comfort. Slowly his tears eased, and he fell asleep in her arms. Satisfied that he was going to sleep soundly she summoned her light again and made her way back out of the cave.
Upon nearing the entrance to the cave, she paused to douse her light again and to listen to what was going on outside. She heard nothing, and surmised that most of the people who had been running about earlier had returned to bed. They were probably still waiting for those cave experts, she surmised.
She exited the cave amid no fanfare. The two men who had been guarding the entrance had left, as well as almost all the members of the town. The only people she saw were the family of the boy she held in her arms. All three of them sat together now, giving each other what comfort they could.
The father was the first to see her. She watched the light of hope enter his eyes as he saw his son in her arms, watched as he nudged his wife. Her tired eyes lit up as well and she scrambled to her feet, rushing towards Kiley.
"Rogel," she whispered in a voice gone hoarse from too much crying. She tore her son from Kiley's arms, waking him in the process. They both started to cry again, sobbing against each other as the other two family members arrived. The son wormed his way into his mother's embrace but the father paused long enough to shake her hand.
"Thank you," he said simply. Words seemed to have deserted him, but he collected himself with a visible effort and continued. "I don't think we can repay you for your kindness," he started.
Kiley cut him off with a wave of her hand. "SAR, sir. It's not a job; it's a vocation," she said, and then she pushed past him, leaving him to stare blankly after her.
Bed, she thought. Bed. Bed, bed, bed, sleep. Sleep.
She turned to the left and walked a few steps before feeling something eerie behind her. Turning quickly, she saw a tall, slender figure staring at her from a few blocks away. Her heart stopped for a beat as she saw the eyes of the man, the eyes glowing blue with an inhuman glow that rose from their depths.
"Shit," she breathed.
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Knives started to walk towards Kiley while she considered her options. Running seemed out of the question now. Attacking would be suicide, and she wasn't that desperate yet. Throwing herself at his feet and groveling for mercy was an option, but she it wasn't one that stayed in her mind long enough to be discarded. She would not grovel for anything, not even her life. Throwing herself at him, and smothering him with kisses lasted long enough to jumpstart her sense of humor. She was unable to come up with a decent course of action, so she might as well make her final thoughts amusing ones. Starting a musical dance number in the street might work, but she seemed to be missing a few cast members. Throwing herself to the ground and flopping around like a fish offended her sense of dignity, but she might try acting like a cat, twining around his ankles and purring. Or, maybe not. Her eye caught the gun riding at Knives' hip and decided that she should probably try to not get too close.
Unable to arrive at a safe option, she decided to just stand her ground. Since she couldn't come up with any life saving actions, she would just have to depend on her reactions. She adjusted her stance, shifting her weight to a shooting stance but keeping her hands away from her gun. She wiped her hands on her shirt, getting rid of the dust and sweat that would harm her grip if she needed to reach her weapon. She folded her arms across her chest, tucking her hands into the crooks of her elbows. Her chin came up as she threw her shoulders back, and she projected attitude as she waited for him to make the first move.
First rule of life, she thought. Don't panic. Second rule of life, fake it as long as you can. Both rules seemed to apply to the situation at hand.
Knives watched her assume her posture of defiance. It amused him, but didn't stop him, or even slow his advance. He continued his slow stalk until he was close enough to loom over her. He could smell her fear, a tantalizing perfume, but one that was too faint. She feared him, but not enough. He watched as she shifted her face a little, to better look him in the eye, but waited in vain for a display of fear as she did nothing more. He looked down at her, knowing that his eyes were glowing and knowing that its effect was disconcerting to the vermin. He wanted to see fear in her eyes, wanted to know that she respected the power he had over her. This vermin needed to learn respect, needed to learn her place in the world. She needed to learn that she had no power over her own life.
She didn't give him what he wanted. Her gaze didn't shift, even as her pupils contracted from looking at the light. Her eyes gave nothing away, nothing that he could use on her as a lever, nothing to manipulate her with. Even her mind was calm, calm like the sky in morning, calm like she hadn't a care in the world.
What was wrong with the woman? Didn't she know how overmatched she was? Didn't she realize he could kill her with a thought? No one had looked at him without fear since Rem, and even she had been a little wary of him. Even Vash was careful around him, worried that the wrong move or gesture might set him off, might make him explode into a frenzy of death. But not this female. Why? What did she know that gave her so much confidence?
And now what was he supposed to do?
Well, the vermin had been walking away from that group by the mouth of a cave. Maybe she cared about their fates. Her actions of the past few weeks showed that she cared about strangers; maybe she would care about the lives of these.
He broke eye-contact and looked behind her, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. "Hostages," he said, lingering lovingly over every syllable.
That got him a reaction, but not the reaction he wanted. Her eyes lost their openness, lost the calm look he had been unable to understand. What replaced that look was not the fear he desired, but an icy anger that made her eyes hard. Coldness settled over every feature, moving outwards from the eyes. The lips thinned and grew set. He knew now that what he had seen before was a posture of waiting, of waiting for him to make a move, and now that he had she was reacting. Unsure as to what she was doing he continued to stare, but his eyes lost their glow as his anger faded into puzzlement.
She stepped back a pace and straightened her posture, lowering her chin and squaring off her shoulders. Her arms were lowered to her sides and held tightly against her thighs. She looked to have planted herself on the ground. Knives watched implacably, waiting for a response that made any sort of sense. She slowly raised her left arm until it was parallel to the ground with the palm held facing the sky. Her eyes didn't leave his as she slowly closed her fingers over her palm as if she were closing them over strings suspended in midair. Then, with one quick motion she jerked her hand forward and twisted her hand so the palm was facing the ground, and then she opened it, like she was letting go of whatever she had grabbed.
Behind her the family fell to the ground.
They didn't move, not to get up, not to breathe. Their hearts had ceased to beat, their minds to function. She had killed them.
Knives couldn't keep the surprise from his face. This was not what he had expected.
"No hostages," she said with a cold smile.
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Knives looked at the fallen bodies. They lay in an undignified sprawl, limbs tangled around each other, the arms of the mother still mostly wrapped around her too-still son. The moons drifted shadows over the still forms, making them look like some arcane sculpture out of a malignant nightmare. They were very obviously not alive, and the nature of their death had granted them no dignity. He could see nothing wrong with the bodies, nothing that would account for the sudden death. A quick examination of their physiology didn't give him any clues, either.
He exhausted his options of examination from this distance. His mind pondered the evidence before him, trying to figure out the means of death, but coming up with nothing. Then he looked at Kiley, her cold, cold eyes and malevolent stare. He could see anger written in every line of her body, a serious anger that promised pain. His assumption that there was nothing this woman could do to him was eroded by the look in her eyes. It didn't make him afraid; instead it fascinated him. One of the vermin might actually be a threat. How. . . interesting.
"How amazing," he said, wonder in his voice. "How did you manage to do that?" He started to walk towards the bodies, but Kiley shifted her weight and blocked his way. He shot her an irritated glare that slid off her like water on glass. He raised on hand to cuff her aside, but she said something that made him pause.
"If you persist in threatening me, you're never going to know," she said in a frosty tone. Looking at her Knives sensed something that didn't belong on this hot planet. She was too cold for this place of heat and sands. She was elemental ice, the coldness of a frozen land, of the deepness of space unlit by any stars. There was nothing in her of this land, nothing at all. It was as if she was an alien, something that had been exiled to this place so foreign to her core nature.
Knives looked down at her, nonplussed. What was this woman? His questions, which had sent him on this quest in the first place, multiplied tenfold. She seemed to know so much, so many things she could not possibly have knowledge of. She did things that were impossible for a human to do, and yet she did them. She was a puzzle, an enigma, a riddle that he couldn't solve. And she obviously knew how to do things that he had never even dreamed existed, like this instant death thing. If he could learn that, the vermin would fall before him like leaves in a typhoon.
How marvelous.
Silence stretched between them as Knives thought. He weighed torturing the information out of her against asking for it. While he didn't like the thought of supplicating a vermin for anything, the look in her eyes and the tricks she had already pulled left him worried that torture might not be successful. It was always easier to manipulate but she was succeeding in making it impossible for him to understand her well enough for that tactic. Plus, she had said if he persisted in threatening her she wouldn't teach him. Perhaps, all he had to do was ask.
"I'll let you live if you teach me these tricks of yours," he said finally. Besides, if asking didn't work, torture could come later.
She nodded. "That's what I hoped for," she said with a crooked little smile, the ice melting out of her eyes. It almost wasn't a threat, and it was about what she had wanted to come out of this confrontation. Knives would no longer be chasing her, at least. What remained to be seen was whether she could survive teaching him a trick or two.
Her left arm rose again and reversed the motions she had made before, grabbing the strings she had released, twisting them, and releasing them again, palm ending up facing the sky. The light of the moons glistened off her palm as the people behind her gasped with the resumption of life. Energy poured out of her, and it was all she could do to keep from passing out in the middle of the street.
"First object lesson: stasis field," she said as she turned. He glanced after her but looked as the family collected itself from the ground. They were disoriented and had trouble coordinating limbs to work in concert, but these symptoms passed quickly. They shot a terrified glance at Knives and ran stumbling to his left.
Shaking his head at the marvel of it all, he turned to the right and followed the woman to the inn. A stasis field? Whatever was that? She had managed to surprise him again. He was sure that they were dead. Perhaps this girl wasn't as cold as she tried to play. That would make it easier for him; he didn't mind killing creatures that got in his way. If she did, well, hostages might work in the future. It was something to keep in mind.
She tensed as she heard him behind her, but said nothing. He followed her into her room and watched as she crawled into bed. Almost instantly she was asleep. She hadn't even paused to take her boots off.
Knives looked at her, wondering at what sort of creature she might be. Her face didn't relax in sleep, but her brain waves had calmed to the point that he knew she was not faking to avoid unnecessary questions. Her body was exhausted, her energy was depleted. Whatever that stasis field was, the working of it obviously took much out of her. Interesting.
Settling himself on the floor, Knives pushed aside the clothes that Kiley had left there in her haste to answer the call of the distressed woman earlier. He prepared to fall asleep, settling his head on interlaced fingers held behind his head. He thought that tomorrow should be fascinating.