Chapter 18

Never as Simple

Zoe waited in agony, the minutes dragging on as the sounds outside began to fade. She grabbed handfuls of the blanket beneath her, holding onto them until her knuckles turned white with the effort of willing herself to be still. Sooner or later, she knew, Esteban and Kensinge would leave to go home, and when they left, the guards would immediately relax and begin to slack off their regular patrols. That would be her chance. If she bided her time, she would give herself the best shot of escaping. Where she was actually going, she had no idea. But, she reasoned with herself, anything was better than being stuck down here forever.

Shut away from the world inside her familiar cage, she had no way of measuring how many minutes had passed, but finally, all fell still outside. The patter of frequent footsteps eased away, fading to an occasional tap-tap-tap as the bored sentries proceeded with their rounds. It was now or never. Zoe slid off the bed as quietly as she could, seeming to feel each muscle in her body twinge with the attempt to be silent. She made it to the door without so much as a whisper of sound to betray her. Creeping in her boots was difficult and slow work, but Zoe had been practicing for such an opportunity. She had been perfecting the technique for weeks, venturing back and forth from her bed to the door, pacing the length of the room while making as little noise as possible before returning to her cot and repeating the whole routine. There was little else to do most of the time, and such exercises, pointless as they might have been, gave her something to work towards, a reason to get up every day, some hope of helping herself to earn an escape. She scrunched her toes into the worn boots, pressing down into the soles, feeling for as much control as possible. She almost never took them off nowadays, not even when she slept. The risk of being suddenly whisked away and having to leave them behind caused far more insomnia than the discomfort of keeping them on her feet while she rested.

Reaching the slightly ajar door, she paused for a moment, listening. Then, seeing and hearing no one, she slid her small fingers into the crack, edging the creaky metal hinges apart a little further. The sliver of light widened. The door squealed softly. Zoe froze again, her heart thumping wildly against her eardrums. Had anyone heard? She stared out, waiting for the footfalls, the pounding of running feet, expecting the image of a soldier to rear up in front of her and slam the door shut in her face with a deafening clang. But all was silent. Finally, as the catapulting of her heartbeat slowed, Zoe found her nerve returning. With a shaky hand, she pulled the door open, slowly, inching the gap wider and wider until it was just large enough to fit through. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment, then forced them open and slipped gracefully out, appearing on the other side of the container more quickly than she had expected. It had only been a short amount of time since she had been out here, but her eyes had grown accustomed to the dark. Now she stood in the brightness and blinked like a newborn animal, a thrill running through her as she gazed around the massive cavern. There was no one in sight. She had made it. She was out.

Zoe peered around the corner of her cage, then proceeded, sneaking along the outside of the container. She tried not to make a sound, but her watery legs were making the process difficult, seeming to buckle and wobble with every careful step. Finally, she reached the back of the crate and ducked, leaving the danger of the open warehouse for the safety of the shadows. She pulled herself deep into the crevice of discarded boxes she knew were kept there, trying to catch her quickened breath. It was just as well she had. A foot stamped into the ground beside her so unexpectedly that Zoe had to bite her lip to keep from exclaiming aloud. The soldier had rounded the trash pile without her hearing a sound.

Zoe leaned her head back against the container, clutching her knees to her chest and squeezing her eyes shut tight, waiting, listening for the horrible, inevitable moment when he stumbled on the unlocked door. Seconds passed, ticked over into minutes. The bootsteps faded. No yell went up. No alarm, no tramping of running feet. He had missed it.

The hands clutching Zoe's legs were numb. She shook the feeling back into them gently, wondering how much more of this her heart could take before it exploded for good. Eventually, she persuaded herself to peer out. The coast was once again clear. Time to go.

Zoe crawled free of her haven, pulled herself to her feet, and looked around, taking a moment to analyze her situation. Where to go from here? The underground warehouse had three entrances that she knew of, from her limited time outside her container. The most familiar one, the old tunnels she had been brought in by, was also the most heavily guarded. Which means it's probably the most direct route to the outside world, she thought, with a touch of disappointment. The others were still promising, however. They had to lead somewhere. Maybe she would even stumble on a faster method of escape in the process. There was one way in particular she knew Kensinge often took, though she wasn't hugely fond of the idea of accidentally stumbling upon her captor in some dark and unknown passage. Still, she reasoned with herself, she had waited quite a while - something Kensinge detested above little else. She liked to act quickly. She was probably long gone.

Still Zoe hesitated. A large open space divided her and the doorway. Any potential cover the surrounding junk would have offered her was piled up carefully close to the walls. She could make a run for it .. but the sound of running feet would definitely give her away. Her best chance would be to walk as quietly and slowly as possible across the gap, and hope she had timed it right with respect to the patrols .. but the time it would take to walk quietly across that distance would be equally as dangerous. The longer she took, the higher grew the chance of being discovered. The warehouse was more or less open area. She could be seen from the other side of the room at any given point in time. She would never make it.

A yell from the other side of the cavern vaporized her mental analysis with a sizzle. She pressed herself back into a tower of empty boxes, trying to listen beyond the wild thumping in her middle ears. A series of heavy footsteps tramped past on the opposite side of her mountain of packaging. Another series of shouts rang out, followed by more shuffling feet. Zoe felt her heart sloop down to her ankles with a sickening lurch. The words were indistinguishable, but she knew what they meant. They had discovered her unlocked container. They must have. They'd be spreading out looking for her. Any time to consider her next course of action had been snuffed out. There was only one option now. Zoe fled.

Swinging around the corner of the tunnel mouth, Zoe threw herself out of sight, barely noticing as her shoulder slammed into the rough concrete wall beside her. Gasping for breath, she slumped down, pressing herself against the cold stone at her back. She didn't know if anyone had followed. She hadn't taken the risk of glancing back. Deep down, she knew she hadn't been able to summon the courage to look. Trying desperately to quiet the wheezing of her heaving chest, the girl closed her eyes and listened. Somehow the act of shutting out visual input seemed to divert power to her ears. She could hear more than she had expected to. The same dull chorus of agitated yells was continuing some distance away, accompanied by the sound of boxes crashing to the ground. A sharp clang rang out as one piece of machinery collided with another - the shrill reverberation of metal on metal.

Zoe waited, shivering against the coarse concrete, expecting to be yanked out at any moment. Every nerve seemed to be on edge, sending threads of fuzzy electricity licking beneath the surface of her skin. She had to suppress a sudden illogical urge to scream and give herself away. Zoe slammed a hand over her mouth and shut her eyes tighter, scrunching her toes into her boots once more as she forced herself to remain silent and wait. Several minutes passed. No one came. She had cleared the second level of the game. She had escaped.

She finally allowed herself to open her eyes and look around. The roughly-hewn passage, though still dim, was brighter than it had first appeared. It was nearly identical to the original entrance, on the opposite side of the compound. Zoe forced herself to her feet, using the wall for balance as she regained control of her trembling legs. The tunnel seemed to go on indefinitely, fading into darkness before it showed any sign of turning. No one was about. Zoe cast one last look behind her, and set off.

The only movement inside the stone passage was the flickering of the dull, yellow lights overhead. Set into the ceiling itself, they seemed to be nearly drained of battery. She wouldn't have been at all surprised if they suddenly crumbled into dead blackness, plunging the sections of tunnel ahead of her into shadow, one by one. Her heart skipped a beat at the horrid thought and she walked a little faster.

Eventually the soul-seizing fear gave way to calm, which in turn gave way to boredom as she ventured down the passage. It had begun to incline very slowly upward, but this was the only change she had noticed throughout the journey. The tunnel seemed to continue on forever, never turning to the right or to the left. Zoe forced her aching feet to keep moving forward, but she was losing momentum by the minute. The claustrophobic monotony of the endeavor had begun to take its toll on her. She could have been walking for hours, days .. or as little as ten minutes. She had no way of knowing. The muffled rhythm of her own boots was the only method of measuring how much distance she had walked, but even then, she thought, with a thrill of unreasonable panic, the hall looked just the same as it had several minutes ago. She could be walking the same path and going nowhere, stuck in a rotating conveyor belt of stone for all time. She might never get out.

Her square of hallway ahead seemed to be growing narrower now. She sucked in another raspy breath, staring from left to right in mounting terror as her feet increased their speed. The walls - they were definitely closer than they had been a minute ago. She could almost see them contracting before her eyes, pressing greedily inward to crush her. Soon she would be completely trapped, she thought, releasing an involuntary cry that she herself barely heard. She had reached a full sprint now, ignoring the sound of her pounding feet echoing down the hall. She no longer cared who heard her. She only had eyes for the walls. She would never get out of here. The passage would never end. She would be suffocated in concrete, locked in an immovable box of stone until she finally lost consciousness. She-

She slowed her breakneck pace, finally realizing through the swirling black dots in front of her eyes that something had changed. The concrete was gone. The stone enclosing her had abruptly vanished, as if by magic. The sound of her footsteps was also inaudible now, though she was still walking. She stopped. The rushing in her ears had died down to a gentle whisper. She looked down. The rough track beneath her feet had given way to a rubber carpet that seemed to extended the entire length of the foreseeable hallway. Zoe tapped her foot to test it. Her boot and the mat seemed to cancel each other out. The movement didn't make a sound. She looked up in surprise, almost ducking back into the familiar tunnel as she did so. The world above her appeared to be boiling and churning. She stared around in wonder.

She had entered what appeared to be a long, winding glass tube. It was much brighter than the passage, though, as the ground now seemed to be angling upward sharply, she couldn't see very far ahead. She was dry, as everything else inside the corridor appeared to be, but pressing against the transparent walls and ceiling at every angle was the same murky dark liquid. She was completely surrounded by the stuff - could it be water? Where was she? Running the length of the hallway on either side was a thin bar of luminescence, set exactly at the sharpest point of the curve, halfway up the wall. The reflection of the light made the outside water seem even darker still. Behind her now, looking back toward the stone mouth, she could just make out the large round water pipe cavities surrounding the tube. The frothy brown ocean around her was being sucked violently into the hollows in the concrete, but a few metres beyond the wall, far quicker than it ought to have - at least by any typical law of nature - the bubbling liquid grew still. There was no current, Zoe thought with a frown. Almost like the pipes were trying to suck in some sort of thick slimey goop instead of free-flowing water. Maybe she was walking through a sewer ..

Hesitantly, she ventured on, thankful to be free of her rock prison. She was equally thankful for the ridges that had been set into the rubber matting at her feet. Without them, her boots may have very well slid right back down the hall again.

As she ventured out further from the wall of concrete, the water seemed to clear a little. She appeared to be walking away from the city, walking - impossibly - right out into the ocean itself. Occasionally, the walls would fall away briefly to the sides, dotted here and there with a room or two, extending off the main track like grapes on a vine. The little rooms appeared to be fused into the tube at their doorways, almost as though a giant had molded them from the main piece, breathing them into existence in the same manner as one would blow bubbles out of bubblegum. Some were bigger than others. Some were more oblong, while others were nearly perfectly round. A couple even had dints or minor imperfections, as though the giant artist had accidentally pressed a little too hard on one side, leaving a massive thumbprint in the glass. Zoe almost laughed as she imagined the look of utter despair on his face. Such were the trials of creativity.

The sterile rooms felt like laboratories, both inside and out, Zoe mused to herself, peering down at another chamber through the glass. It seemed to be hovering in place below her. From the outside, the round rooms could almost have been modeled after boiling flasks themselves. Though the weaving neck of the hall was completely transparent, visible from any angle, many rooms were not. There were a couple with closed doors, ones that Zoe's keen stare couldn't penetrate from any angle. Evidently whoever worked here wasn't a huge fan of being observed every minute of every day and had decided they liked some degree of privacy after all. Who exactly those workers might be, she had no idea. She hadn't come across a single soul so far. The place appeared to be deserted.

All attempts to escape forgotten in her fascination with the strange place, Zoe continued on, following the winding glass snake around wherever it lead, staring out periodically to examine the water. She could see through it somewhat now, enough to make out shadows of bags and other trash darkening the brown walls of the hallway as they floated by. Looking up and around, it was now evident that this tunnel was simply part of an extensive network of other tunnels. She could see them, accented by similar rooms and winding about in the murky expanse surrounding her like the arms of a giant spider, before they finally seemed to join up to a huge heart at the centre. It was this massive bulb some distance away - visible only because of the web of glowing strings that hung from the ceiling to illuminate it - that all passages appeared to spring from. It seemed to be the centre of the operation, perhaps some kind of community meeting place. Zoe could finally make out shadows of people inside it, milling about like ants in their little glass colony. Above what she had mentally dubbed "the Hive", a wide, straight glass elevator seemed to stretch to the sky. Zoe followed it upward with her eyes.

A long way overhead, near the surface, a giant dark disc hovered. An island? An offshore base .. ?

Someone was coming.

Footsteps muffled by the rubber flooring, it was very much to Zoe's advantage that the approaching members had had to come up to her, rather than the other way around. Had their positions been reversed, the thick black mat beneath her would not have concealed her presence. Rather, it would have concealed theirs. As it was, the soft voices of the researchers had probably been the only thing to give them away. Zoe managed to catch a glimpse of the tops of two heads before hurriedly darting back to the entrance of the most recent room. She pulled herself into the crevice of the darkened doorway, clinging back against the vinyl wallpaper and hoping with everything she possessed that the door behind her wouldn't suddenly open. Somewhat practiced in the art by now, she attempted to quiet her heartbeat, listening. She had glimpsed both a woman and a man in the tunnel, but the woman appeared to be doing by far the majority of the talking, saying something about reports and labs and "another inbound shipment". It sounded like she had more important places to be, Zoe thought. She heard the man mumble something in response as the woman's voice faded away, then she was gone. Zoe waited, sensing somehow that the man had not left with her, that he was probably still hovering in the walkway, just beyond her hiding spot. He seemed to have gotten distracted by something.

The hallway was silent for such a long time that Zoe began to wonder if he had left after all. Finally, she took a deep breath and peered around her corner, hoping for a tiny glimpse of the person in the corridor. She saw him immediately, and rapidly pulled back, narrowly missing banging against the door in the process. Her heartbeat had instantly accelerated, jumping back into double-speed mode all over again. She had only managed to catch a glimpse of his side profile as he focused his attention elsewhere, but she had recognized him. She knew him. In fact, she had seen him less than an hour before, though it seemed a lot longer to Zoe.

That man - Simon, Kensinge had called him. How had he gotten here so quickly? He must have taken the same exit she had come through .. she was lucky she hadn't run into him in the concrete tunnel. Zoe shuddered at the thought and pulled back a little further. What a horrifying prospect.

Simon still stood unmoving in the middle of the hall. He appeared to be studying a tablet intently. He certainly didn't look like he was planning on going anywhere in a hurry. Zoe peered out as far as she dared, watching his light brown hair wave gently, as though a soft breeze was slowly making its way down the hall .. only there wasn't any breeze. Because there wasn't any air flow. The shadows must be playing tricks with her eyes, Zoe frowned. Before she could even follow that thought to its natural conclusion, however, the culprit took shape before her. A massive dark object began to materialize out of the muddy water that sloshed against the glass. Simon seemed to sense some movement as well and looked up quickly, freezing as he did so. Zoe's own heart stopped in her chest at the sight. Swimming dangerously close to the glass tunnel, a huge creature was gliding peacefully past. Long neck, four large flippers, and a long tail. Even in the horrible gunk, the creature was beautiful. Zoe nearly forgot all about Simon in the wake of it. Not that it would have mattered if she had. Tablet lowered, arm hanging abandoned by his side, Simon stood equally entranced. So much so that neither of them noticed the second, larger shadow fast approaching on the trail of the first.

By the time anyone became aware of the intruder's presence, it was already too late to escape. As the two humans watched in shock, the newest shadow exerted its own power. Four enormous barbed limbs shot out like spear guns, wrapping themselves around the other animal and halting its progress instantly, bringing it from a gentle glide to a complete standstill in a matter of milliseconds. The movement, though silent, had had the effect of a dynamite blast.

Zoe jumped, unable to stop a gasp escaping from her. She slapped her hands over her mouth. The noise had sounded unmistakably loud to her ears. Simon had jumped back at the same time, his tablet falling to the rubber floor with a dull clatter. Both observers, unaware of the other's existence, watched in horror and fascination as the two creatures struggled. The killing tentacles had been sent out from a massive tube-shaped body, which had hovered in the water nearby for a moment before following the trajectory of its own limbs. As the Plesiosaur began to panic, the giant squid shot forward with a sickening rush and overtook it, its tentacles locking down tighter around the other beast. Zoe watched, heart in mouth, knowing her mind would never be able to erase the images she was seeing in front of her, but somehow unable to tear her eyes away. She stared, horrified, as the creatures barrel-rolled together, over and over until finally the struggling ceased. After what seemed like an eternity had passed, the squid's barbed tentacles retracted. The large, clear left eye of the creature hovered close by the corridor as it waited, watching curiously as the lifeless body of the first animal floated slowly away from it. Simon stood very close to that eye, appearing to be frozen himself. Zoe watched him, suddenly fearing for the safety of one of her enemies. A cold sweat ran down her spine as the eye, apparently mesmerized by its dead prey up until this point, suddenly shot down to focus on Simon. Zoe's entire torso felt like ice. If that thing went for Simon now, if it decided to turn and attack the corridor, they would all be dead. Between the thick, gluggy water and the monstrous predator, no one would stand a chance of surviving. She could only imagine what horrible thoughts must be flying through Simon's mind at the same moment. Nevertheless, he stayed perfectly still.

The squid had finally seemed to realize that his dinner was floating goodbye. It darted forward, curling up its limbs and using them to flick itself away, then sending one tentacle out to lasso the lifeless carcass once more. As they watched, it allowed itself to sink deeper into the water, disappearing into the filthy murk as it dragged its prize down into the depths beneath the glass labyrinth.

Simon was still for some time, though after a few minutes, Zoe thought she could make out the words, "Heather, what have you done .." murmured under his breath, evidently for the benefit of his own ears. The sound of his own voice seemed to calm him somehow, as shortly thereafter, he gave himself a little shake and bent to retrieve the fallen tablet at his feet. Dusting it off, he gave one last glance in the direction of the glass, then turned. Whatever he had ventured up for seemed to have been forgotten. He wandered back the way he had come, following the slanted hall downward until he disappeared from view.

Zoe waited just long enough to lose sight of him and then fled, her feet creating a dull thud on the rubber mat as she made her way down the hall. She ran, shaking, for the second time that day no longer caring whether she was heard or not. Her sickened stomach felt as though it was tied in knots. When she finally reached the entrance to the stone tunnels once more, she forced herself to slow down, trying to quiet her heaving breaths as she tiptoed back down the passageway. She was heading right back to her own prison, she knew, but perhaps there was a way to bypass it. Obviously she had chosen the wrong path to set out on when she had unknowingly followed Simon, but maybe she would be able to slip around. Maybe there was a way to avoid Kensinge's guards. Maybe they hadn't yet noticed-

Zoe stopped abruptly. Footsteps? She threw an uncertain glance over her shoulder. The dim lights flickered, but the hall was empty. She was still alone. She listened in the silence. Perhaps she had imagined it all?

Then it started up again: step .. step .. click .. shuffle ..

Zoe's jangled nerves were already on high alert. She took a steadying breath and tried to think clearly. It sounded as though something was sniffing its way down the passage toward her. But what? She hadn't seen a single live animal since she had arrived here .. unless one counted the cockroaches or the two creatures she had just encountered - one of which was now dead anyway. It didn't sound human .. unless .. A horrid feeling of dread washed over her. Get it together. She commanded herself, trying in vain to expel all the images of ghouls and phantoms she had dreamed up over the years from her immediate memory. There's no such thing as vampires, there's no such thing as vampires ..

She hesitated, listening. The sound of rushing water was still just audible overhead. The lights were emitting a faint buzz she hadn't noticed before. The heavy breathing of the unknown creature grew louder. It was clicking its way hesitantly down the passageway. Slowly, but surely. It was coming straight for her. Should she run back? Should she get help? The lights were too dim to see very far ahead, but she could almost make it out now, moving through the dark in her direction. Something almost all tall as she was. Something with strong muscles and dark fur.

The something was taking very measured steps, holding itself gracefully with every movement, head tilted warily as it approached. As it stepped out beneath one of the flickering lights, Zoe saw its eyes. Yellow, like the bulbs that barely lit the passage. Evil and slitted, like a snake's. Her heart stopped, her blood running cold. It was a dinosaur. And not one of the friendly ones. Zoe closed her eyes for a moment. Surely she was dreaming. Surely this was all one big nightmare. She would look up and find herself back in her container. Everything would be back to normal. She didn't want to play this game anymore. When would this horrible day be over?! She opened her eyes, focusing them back on the animal as a sudden jarring reality struck her. But .. this wasn't right. It couldn't be. What was a dinosaur doing in Chicago-

She had no time to finish the question, even as she thought it. The creature had been eyeing her for a lot longer than she had been able to see it. It had sized her up already. It had decided upon what to do with her long ago. Zoe realized with a sinking feeling that she had arrived late to this party. The animal's intentions had been half carried out before she had even known what she was fighting. The dinosaur clicked a claw against the concrete, pausing a few metres from her. It lowered its head, eyeing her maliciously. Zoe's breath came quicker. It's too late to run. As she realized the fact, the spring-loaded claws shot out. The yellow eyes flashed, the mouth opened to reveal a mouthful of arrow point teeth, and the creature finally made its first real sound. It screamed in triumph.

Zoe was frozen. She tried to dodge, tried to duck, tried to scream, but nothing worked. Her limbs were numb, her throat was too full of horror to allow room for anything else. She locked eyes with the creature as it tensed its muscles, lowering itself for the attack. I'm dead, she realized, as a wave of electric terror shot through her paralyzed mind. Already she could almost feel the bite of its teeth clamping around her neck, could almost hear the snap when the world would go black for the last time. The creature gathered itself .. and sprang.

A series of deafening shots rang out from either side. Zoe's eyes shut tight as she slammed her hands over her ears, waiting for the impact from the animal. It never came. She felt a firm hand squeeze her shoulder and gradually summoned the courage to open her eyes. Kensinge was standing a few metres away, nudging an unmoving mound of fur on the concrete with the edge of her boot. Zoe's eyes crept up to meet those of the man above her. Esteban's gaze was as solemn and unreadable as always. She would never understand just how they had come to be there when they had, appearing seemingly out of nowhere to save her life, or how she had never noticed their presence or heard their footsteps until it was nearly too late. Nevertheless, despite everything, she would be eternally grateful that some kind twist of fate had led them back to her.

Zoe turned to Kensinge shakily.

"Is it .. dead?"

The scientist didn't answer. She knelt beside it, tilting her head this way and that as she examined it. Zoe's terror began to give way to curiosity. She ventured forward slowly. Her guardian angel kept pace with her, his hand resting gently on the slim shoulder. Zoe paused beside Kensinge, who still seemed preoccupied with her kill.

"Definitely Nykoraptor .." She was muttering to herself, poking the ugly head with the tip of her pistol. "Where did you come from?"

Zoe peered past her, down at the animal's face. Its evil eyes, so full of malice just a few minutes ago, were now glassy and blank, as though it had died of shock instead of the bullets embedded in its chest. She shuddered and stood very close to the large form of the soldier beside her. Kensinge seemed to sense tiny movements better than large ones .. or maybe she paid more attention to things other people tried to hide. Whatever the case, she finally turned to look up at the small girl.

"Don't get too close."

"Why? It's dead."

"You can't be sure of that."

Zoe eyed her numbly.

".. how could it not be dead, you shot it about fourteen times."

Kensinge glanced at Esteban, who allowed a small smile to touch his face. The scientist sighed in a long-suffering fashion and turned back to the girl.

"Be that as it may .. I believe the real question is, what are you doing wandering the halls trying to get yourself eaten alive? Shouldn't you be in your crate?"

"Probably." Zoe replied flippantly. "Shouldn't you be on a date? That guy before seemed pretty keen on it."

Kensinge eyed her for a minute, then nodded at the dead creature.

"Keep talking, little Terra Novan, and he can sleep in your room tonight."

Zoe crouched down beside the limp body, reaching out a hand to pat the scrubby fur.

"If he's a Nykoraptor .. how did he get here?"

"Now you're asking the right questions." Kensinge turned to exchange a look with her second-in-command. "Cause that's exactly what I want to know."

"I forgot how tasteless this food was .. if you can call it that."

Taylor dropped his spoon into his dish with a clatter, grinning over at the opposite side of the table as Zayne flinched. Jim reached out and pulled the boy's head back around gently, dabbing at his temple with the practiced ease of one who's had more than a couple disaster-prone children.

"Come on, now, hold still. Almost done."

"Crybaby."

"Shut up."

Lucy, sitting on the opposite side, squished between Mira and Taylor, merely leaned her elbows on the table and grinned. Jim, sensing that his time with his restless patient was growing short, ignored her and kept working. Upon returning home, an unsteady Zayne had proposed to go straight to bed. He had quickly found himself apprehended and made to sit and endure Jim's torturous healing administrations instead. Aiva had volunteered to do the honors herself, but Zayne had vehemently refused. If Aiva's muttered retorts were anything to go by, he always did. She had dropped the first aid kit into his ungrateful lap and left the room. According to Lucy .. she always did. Jim, however, wouldn't take no for an answer. He had sat the boy down immediately and gotten to work, pretending he'd forgotten all about his own cuts and bruises. As Taylor's helpful suggestion that they form an assembly line and take care of each other's minor abrasions was looked upon with coldness and patronization, he had proposed a more appealing alternative. Thus, they had gathered around the table to eat.

Zayne sat on the other side in his singlet, trying to snatch mouthfuls of food while he endured the treatment of Jim's Beauty and Restoration Facility. He threw a longing glance at a half-inflated bun that sat nearby, then forgot all about it a moment later, gritting his teeth and trying not to squirm as Jim put the finishing touches on his face. Whatever he was being dabbed with, it hurt like the dickens, and while he'd developed a certain amount of respect for the man over the past weeks, he wasn't sure he could stay in his seat for much longer if the torment continued. He felt as though his face was about to rip wide open. Jim seemed to sense the boy's raw nerves and put his dabber down, reaching for a large white bandage with one hand while holding the boy's colorful hair out of the way with the other. Zayne watched him for a moment, some unknown sense telling him that Jim was about to say something he wasn't going to like much. He was right.

"That accident .. with your class .." Jim began, murmuring quietly, as though he was trying to keep his words out of the earshot of the room at large .. not that the attempt was of any use at all. Everyone else at the table was staring directly at him, listening curiously. Jim continued, seeming not to notice them.

"I used to be a cop, you know. Once upon a time. Saw some sad stuff, had to deal with some really lousy people, but that .. I don't think I ever came across a situation as sad as that one."

He secured the bandage and allowed the thick hair to fall back into place, then shook his own head, looking into the boy's eyes soberly.

"I'm sorry."

Zayne turned away, reaching for his sweater and pulling it stiffly over his head. He bit his lip to keep from crying out as the material touched his bruised shoulder. Jim reached forward, helping him to finish the procedure without comment. Fully clothed once again, Zayne sat in silence for a few seconds, staring down at the table.

"It's .. not .. I don't want to talk about it."

"Alright .. then how's this." Jim changed the topic, instantly assuming a sterner and more parental manner. Zayne looked up quickly at the change in tone. "You shouldn't have attacked those guys back there. You had no chance of winning whatsoever. If we hadn't been with you, you could have been killed."

"That's what I'm always telling him."

Zayne's eyes bored into his unrepentant cousin.

"They started it. I couldn't back down."

"Once upon a time, I would've agreed with you wholeheartedly." Taylor gazed into the dull light of the room heater as the hum filled the empty silence. "But violence isn't always the answer."

Mira and Jim stared at him, the latter's mouth dropping open as he paused, bread halfway to it. Taylor smiled briefly as the boy nodded, obviously humouring him.

".. okay."

"Alright." The former commander leaned back and put his hands behind his head. For some seconds, this seemed to be the end of the short discussion. Everyone exchanged a look or two and turned away, only to turn back to him quickly as he continued speaking.

"Say you're walking along and some guy shoves you on the way past." Taylor watched Zayne, rocking on his chair slightly and assuming the demeanor of a lazy grandfather. "What do you do?"

The boy eyed him cautiously.

"Depends. Did he mean to?"

Taylor shrugged.

"Sure, let's say for the sake of this conversation that it was intentional. How do you respond?"

Zayne shrugged as well, subconsciously mirroring the older man's gesture.

"An eye for an eye, right? Guy's gotta defend himself."

"So?"

"I shove him back."

"And he falls and breaks his wrist."

Zayne blinked, then stared into Taylor's face, an unrepentant glint beginning to grow in his dark eyes.

"So? He started it."

"Alright, now let's say it wasn't on purpose."

"Yeah, but he still shoved me."

"True." Taylor conceded benevolently. "But he was on his way home after his sister's funeral. He wasn't watching where he was going because of the tears in his eyes."

For an instant, the corner of Zayne's mouth curled up in what could almost have been the makings of a grin. Then it was gone.

"Well, then he should've apologised or something so I knew it was an accident."

"Ah, but he was so choked up, he couldn't get the words out." Taylor countered, his eyes twinkling. "And you shoved him. Now he's got a dead sister and a broken wrist. How do you feel?"

"Pretty lousy, I guess .." The boy admitted warily. ".. but how was I supposed to know?"

"You weren't." Taylor replied, in a manner that could almost have been considered soothing. "Now, what if all that was true .. but he was feeling angry with the world in general after the funeral, so he shoved you on purpose?"

Zayne frowned a little. Hadn't they already covered this scenario?

"Then I'd shove him back. His fault."

"Come on, kid, that's pretty heartless." Taylor chided, and Jim had to conceal a grin of his own. He cast a glance at Mira, who returned the look, smiling a little over Lucy's head. The girl had leaned further across the table in front of her, entranced by the conversation. Taylor was still eyeing Zayne, though now he tilted forward slightly, spreading his hands in petition.

"I mean, don't you think a grieving man deserves some leeway?"

Zayne groaned a little under his breath, looking away as if the conversation suddenly bored him.

"Alright then, I guess I wouldn't shove him."

"But .." Taylor was enjoying this a little too much. ".. you don't know any of that information at the time. All you know is that some guy on the street bumped you."

"Alright then, I guess I would punch him!" The boy replied in exasperation. Taylor's eyebrows flew up into his silver hairline.

"Oh, so you're punching him now? Did you hear that, Jim? This is getting worse and worse!"

Zayne looked from Jim to Taylor in angry, bewildered silence. Finally, he slumped back into his chair, folding his arms sullenly, his too-long sleeves flopping over themselves like squished black seals.

"Stop it, you're .. you're confusing me."

"I'm confusing you?" Taylor snorted. "Kid, you're swinging back and forth like a rickety bridge."

"Well, I dunno I guess!" Zayne shot back, nearly losing his temper for the second time that day. "You're overcomplicating everything."

"That's cause nothing is ever as simple as it seems." Taylor set his elbows down on the table, meeting the boy's flashing glare with such cooling calm that Zayne found his own anger dampening somewhat. Taylor continued seriously. "People do the wrong thing for the right reasons and the right thing for the wrong reasons all the time .. but sometimes people even do the wrong thing for the wrong reasons and you still can't blame them for it. You see?"

"Not really."

"Then you'll have to take it from me."

Zayne eyed him dully.

"What qualifies you to be such a source of wisdom? Just cause you're old?"

"I am old." Taylor chuckled. "But I'm also a guy whose son has tried to kill him repeatedly for years."

Lucy perked up at this.

"You have a son?"

"And he wants to kill you?"

Her cousin seemed to be quietly processing the new information. He was eyeing Taylor intently, his expression unreadable.

"Years?!" The exclamation broke forth from the seat beside Zayne's. "Come on, Taylor, it was a couple of weeks at most."

"Directly, maybe." The former commander snorted, stubbornly clinging to his tale. "But it was enough."

Lucy watched him, her dark eyes as wide as saucers.

"What happened?"

"Long story."

"Isn't it always." Zayne decided to chime in, evidently still feeling somewhat bruised by the previous conversation, but more than willing to watch Taylor squirm for a while instead. "Well, whose fault was it, his or yours?"

"What came first, the chicken or the egg?" Taylor retorted. "The point is, everyone has a reason for what they do, be it beliefs, upbringing, or history. Defend yourself if you have to, but don't damage someone just because you can."

The others stared at him wordlessly.

"I'm going to bed." Zayne finally muttered, standing and gesturing to his cousin in the same beat. "C'mon, Luce."

Lucy stood begrudgingly, pausing to pat both Taylor and Mira's shoulders with either hand before skip-jogging toward the stairs. They were finding she never seemed to be able to go anywhere via an ordinary walk. Zayne followed her more slowly, and as she went up, he hesitated, stopping at the first step railing and turning back. The others watched him, determined to maintain their silence for as long as it took him to break his. Finally, he looked up, meeting their eyes with a stubbornness that implied the action was rather difficult for him.

"Hey. Thanks, by the way."

Taylor nodded.

"You got it."

"Anytime, kiddo."

"Wait." A voice rang out from the banister above. They looked up to see Lucy poking her head down at them as her cousin began to climb the stairs after her. She leaned on the railing, her dark braid resisting gravity for a moment before giving in and falling over her shoulder. "Your son .. is he alive?"

Taylor studied the inquisitive face in silence for a moment, then a small smile began to prickle across his features.

"I hope so, kiddo."

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for an instant, he seemed to be seeing far beyond the round, white room, his mind overwhelmed instead by images of jungle forests and waterfalls, of blankets of stars above a smattering of little homes, of markets and festivals and distant music trickling throughout, mixing with the happy laughter of families and friends alike - of one family, for that's what they were. That's what they had been. Who knew what had happened to them by now.

As his arm was shoved roughly, he blinked and shook his head, then pushed the animal's hard nose away with a firm hand. His gaze returned to the girl above, though this time, the smile was laced with a new element as trickles of deep sadness revealed themselves through the creased lines of the weathered face.

"I hope they're all alive. I really do."