Part VI
MAYOR WILKINS' OFFICE-FIVE MINUTES LATER
Mayor Wilkins picked up the phone on the first ring and listened to the frantic voice on the other end for thirty seconds before commenting, "Doug, you're sounding too tense. You're not getting enough roughage in your diet, are you?" The voice on the line turned confused, then apologetic. Wilkins listened, then interrupted again, "Don't worry. . .good job on getting that information to me. . .oh, and about the roughage. . .go find a homeless person-plenty of fiber there. Bye." He put down the receiver and pressed the black button on his desk.
A moment later, Mr. Trick walked in, all business. "What's up, Mr. Mayor?"
Wilkins smiled and replied, "Yes, something interesting has come up. But where are my manners?" He picked up the plate on his desk and offered it to Trick: "Celery stick?"
With supreme effort, Trick repressed the nasty remark that came to mind and kept his tone businesslike. "No thank you, Mr. Mayor."
The Mayor smiled and put the plate down, commenting "No, I don't suppose you would. Still, I've been eating these things for decades, and I've never been healthier." He smirked and chuckled, "That will be changing soon, though." He frowned and got to the point. "Mr. Trick, do you know about Immortals?"
The vampire frowned and nodded. "Yeah, I've heard of those crazy bastards. Go figure. . .you're Immortal, you can walk around in the daylight and everything without having people try to stake you, and all those chumps want to do is hack each other's heads off. And they say demons have a weird outlook on life. What about them?"
Wilkins smiled and asked another question. "Have you ever heard of the Immortal Slayer?"
Trick shuddered and replied, "No, and I don't think I want to. That Buffy chick and her nasty little playmate Faith are causing enough trouble without having to deal with an Immortal version. What's the story?"
Wilkins took a few minutes to explain, including the fact that Alyssa had been seen killing an Immortal earlier that evening, along with her casual trashing of Faith soon after. Trick whistled and commented, "This sounds like a problem, Mr. Mayor. How are we going to deal with it?"
Wilkins clucked and shook his head. "Mr. Trick, you are a worthy assistant, but until you change your perspective on these things, you are not going to ready to go out on your own." Annoyed, Trick began to retort only to be stopped by the Mayor's raised hand as he continued, "What you see as an obstacle, I see as an opportunity. The blood of the Immortal Slayer is an immense source of power. I can tap it to improve the outcome of my Ascension, and those who are close to me can benefit also. Am I making myself understood?"
Trick smiled: this guy was finally making real sense. "You have my undivided attention."
The Mayor nodded and ordered, "Take fifteen of your best fighters out with you and find her. Bring her to me."
Trick frowned and responded, "No problem, but if this bitch is as nasty as you say, aren't we going to take serious casualties?"
The Mayor got up from his desk and opened a cabinet, while explaining, "The fifteen vampires with you will take care of any heat you get from interfering Slayers and their friends." He pulled a scoped hunting rifle and tossed it to Trick along with a box of bullets. "I'm leaving the incapacitation of Alyssa to your fully capable hands."
Trick hefted the rifle, loaded it, and nodded to Wilkins, commenting with a grin, "It'll be my pleasure, boss."
TALLOWHILE CEMETERY: THIRTY MINUTES LATER
Duncan's eyes swept across the line of trees that blocked further visibility, carefully searching for signs of their quarry. His paranormal senses were silent, assuring him that there were no Immortals nearby, but he was not inclined to relax, knowing that there were vampires everywhere in this place. He looked out at his allies. Buffy stalked the perimeter like an angry panther, ever vigilant for signs of danger. Faith, the younger Slayer, was calmer: Duncan had the impression that she drew more enjoyment from the work than Buffy did . . .he didn't know whether that was good or bad. Oz and Willow walked together, quietly discussing something-he gathered that they were a couple. Xander was also extremely vigilant, scanning all around him while keeping a stake and a vial of holy water at the ready; remarkably, the teenager seemed to have the instincts of a trained soldier. Giles carried a crossbow and several stakes, along with a small bag containing God knew what-he also seemed fully alert. As for his former nemesis . . .he trailed Buffy at a distance of about ten feet. Occasionally, Buffy would bark a question at him, and Angel would calmly answer, mollifying her. My God, he really is completely different now, he thought, his behavior would have been totally inconceivable from the old Angelus. He dismissed the thought as he felt a tingling in his paranormal senses. He called out; "Wait!" and the others halted, waiting for an explanation.
A little experimentation on his part produced a direction, and they followed him, Buffy at his side and Angel trailing at a discreet distance. They found her in a small park, sitting on a bench with her head in her hands. Buffy looked at Duncan and asked, "Okay, now what?"
Duncan replied, "Let me talk to her . . .perhaps I can convince her to talk to us on holy ground, so that she can feel safe." Buffy looked at her new friend and was concerned-if Alyssa attacked; he would likely be overwhelmed as quickly as Faith was, if not faster. "Are you sure, Duncan? I don't want to see you dead . . .twice in one night is quite enough, thank you."
Duncan chuckled under his breath, admiring the dedication of the young woman as he did so. "It's my place, Buffy. Remember, you must not interfere if she chooses to attack me . . .that is the foremost rule we have lived by for thousands of years." Buffy met his gaze and reluctantly nodded. Duncan walked to within fifty feet of the Immortal Slayer and called out softly, "Alyssa."
The woman looked up and met Duncan's eyes with her own. The crazed look that Faith had described was still there, and a pang of fear touched his heart. Gathering his courage, he called out again, "Alyssa. We want to help you . . .to protect from that which is driving you mad."
The Immortal Slayer laughed, and there was the taint of insanity in the sound. "You . . .help . . .me? What a cosmic joke that is. For centuries, I have tried to fulfill my duties as the Slayer, without ally or hope. Immortal after Immortal has challenged me and died, thusly endangering my immortal soul for my sin in killing them. Do you know how many times I have been tempted to lay down my blade and let one of them strike me down? But suicide would damn me to hell forever. I could cloister myself in a church, but then I would be prevented from practicing my Calling. I am doomed to eternal torment, perhaps no less than I would face in Hell, but this is the world I know, and I must play my part." Alyssa drew her blade with a speed that astonished Duncan and pointed it at him. "Leave me and never return, or surely I will kill you."
"Alyssa, wait. Listen to me."
Duncan whirled to see Buffy walking up beside him, with Faith about twenty feet behind, waiting silently. He looked sternly at her and snapped, "Buffy! You must not interfere!"
Buffy met his angry gaze with a quiet one of her own and replied, "She hasn't attacked you yet, has she? Besides, I think a change of approach is called for." She walked to within twenty feet of the Immortal Slayer and asked, "Alyssa, do you know what I am?"
The taller woman stared at Buffy for a long moment before her eyes widened, and Buffy could see the sanity returning to them as her paranormal senses fed her an astonishing conclusion. After a moment, she replied, "You are. . .a Chosen One! " She looked past Buffy at the waiting Faith and confusion ruled her expression, ". . .so is that one. How can that be?"
Buffy walked to within ten feet of Alyssa and began speaking again, strong emotion in her voice: "It's a long story, but I'd be glad to tell you, if you'd only be willing to listen. Alyssa, I've been the Slayer for nearly four years. I've suffered many hardships, but I know they are pretty much nothing compared to what you've put up with. The problem is, just by being what you are, you are a tempting target to the creatures who call this place "home". If they catch you, you are in for a long time of horrible torture, and I don't think I could bear that happening to you. Won't you come with us to holy ground, so that we can talk about this without worrying about any Immortals who might come by wanting your head?"
Alyssa looked at the young Slayer, and Buffy could see a tinge of wild hope in her eyes, only to see it vanish behind a cloud of cynicism. Alyssa snorted contemptuously and snapped, "Why should you want to help me? I'm just another Slayer whose time has past. Better to forget about me and bury me in some unmarked grave."
Tears came to Buffy's eyes as she heard the Immortal Slayer's words, then an immense anger rose to the surface. "Damn it, Alyssa. I spend hours every week learning about the Slayers who preceded me! I see their faces in my dreams. . .most of them died horribly, without hope of rescue or even assistance. My friend Kendra the Slayer died in my arms-I'll probably never get over that. But damn it, you're Immortal! Don't you get it. . .you've been a Slayer for four hundred years! Don't you think you have something to offer that doesn't involve you being killed by a vampire or being given a really short haircut? When I see you, I see hope! Please, can't we at least talk about it?"
Faith walked up beside Buffy and squeezed her arm before chiming in: "B's got it right, sister. I'm not thrilled that you chose to pound on me, but from what I hear you've had a rough time of it. I can identify. A pow-wow might be worth your time, don't you think?"
Alyssa put away her sword without apparent thought, and stood silent for a long moment before looking back at Buffy and Faith. "Very well, Chosen Ones. I do not guarantee that I will agree to what you propose, but I will listen. Take me to holy ground."
Duncan released the tension that caused his entire body to ache while he listened to the exchange between the three Slayers. Now all we need to do is get her to holy ground, he thought while looking around for the nearest route to a mausoleum.
Abruptly, Alyssa was knocked to the ground, and a red stain spread over her heart as a rifle shot crackled. Duncan sprang forward and reached the stricken Immortal, only to see that the wound would be temporarily mortal. Alyssa met his gaze and he could tell she knew that he had not betrayed her as the light left her eyes. Angrily, he got up and looked around, noting that the others were already efficiently searching around them looking for the assailants.
Buffy had spotted the ever-annoying Mr. Trick with a hunting rifle and tensed against the prospect of further bullets coming inbound. But Trick dropped the rifle, apparently realizing that it would be useless in close quarters. He whistled, and fifteen vampires broke cover and joined him as he walked towards the Slayers and their allies. When they were within thirty feet of the group of White Hats, Trick called out, "We've got you dead to rights, Slayers. Leave the body, and you'll make it through this night alive. If not, dinner time for us." He grinned, and asked:
"What's it going to be."
To be continued. . .
As before, comments are welcome and desired.
M. Scott Eiland
MAYOR WILKINS' OFFICE-FIVE MINUTES LATER
Mayor Wilkins picked up the phone on the first ring and listened to the frantic voice on the other end for thirty seconds before commenting, "Doug, you're sounding too tense. You're not getting enough roughage in your diet, are you?" The voice on the line turned confused, then apologetic. Wilkins listened, then interrupted again, "Don't worry. . .good job on getting that information to me. . .oh, and about the roughage. . .go find a homeless person-plenty of fiber there. Bye." He put down the receiver and pressed the black button on his desk.
A moment later, Mr. Trick walked in, all business. "What's up, Mr. Mayor?"
Wilkins smiled and replied, "Yes, something interesting has come up. But where are my manners?" He picked up the plate on his desk and offered it to Trick: "Celery stick?"
With supreme effort, Trick repressed the nasty remark that came to mind and kept his tone businesslike. "No thank you, Mr. Mayor."
The Mayor smiled and put the plate down, commenting "No, I don't suppose you would. Still, I've been eating these things for decades, and I've never been healthier." He smirked and chuckled, "That will be changing soon, though." He frowned and got to the point. "Mr. Trick, do you know about Immortals?"
The vampire frowned and nodded. "Yeah, I've heard of those crazy bastards. Go figure. . .you're Immortal, you can walk around in the daylight and everything without having people try to stake you, and all those chumps want to do is hack each other's heads off. And they say demons have a weird outlook on life. What about them?"
Wilkins smiled and asked another question. "Have you ever heard of the Immortal Slayer?"
Trick shuddered and replied, "No, and I don't think I want to. That Buffy chick and her nasty little playmate Faith are causing enough trouble without having to deal with an Immortal version. What's the story?"
Wilkins took a few minutes to explain, including the fact that Alyssa had been seen killing an Immortal earlier that evening, along with her casual trashing of Faith soon after. Trick whistled and commented, "This sounds like a problem, Mr. Mayor. How are we going to deal with it?"
Wilkins clucked and shook his head. "Mr. Trick, you are a worthy assistant, but until you change your perspective on these things, you are not going to ready to go out on your own." Annoyed, Trick began to retort only to be stopped by the Mayor's raised hand as he continued, "What you see as an obstacle, I see as an opportunity. The blood of the Immortal Slayer is an immense source of power. I can tap it to improve the outcome of my Ascension, and those who are close to me can benefit also. Am I making myself understood?"
Trick smiled: this guy was finally making real sense. "You have my undivided attention."
The Mayor nodded and ordered, "Take fifteen of your best fighters out with you and find her. Bring her to me."
Trick frowned and responded, "No problem, but if this bitch is as nasty as you say, aren't we going to take serious casualties?"
The Mayor got up from his desk and opened a cabinet, while explaining, "The fifteen vampires with you will take care of any heat you get from interfering Slayers and their friends." He pulled a scoped hunting rifle and tossed it to Trick along with a box of bullets. "I'm leaving the incapacitation of Alyssa to your fully capable hands."
Trick hefted the rifle, loaded it, and nodded to Wilkins, commenting with a grin, "It'll be my pleasure, boss."
TALLOWHILE CEMETERY: THIRTY MINUTES LATER
Duncan's eyes swept across the line of trees that blocked further visibility, carefully searching for signs of their quarry. His paranormal senses were silent, assuring him that there were no Immortals nearby, but he was not inclined to relax, knowing that there were vampires everywhere in this place. He looked out at his allies. Buffy stalked the perimeter like an angry panther, ever vigilant for signs of danger. Faith, the younger Slayer, was calmer: Duncan had the impression that she drew more enjoyment from the work than Buffy did . . .he didn't know whether that was good or bad. Oz and Willow walked together, quietly discussing something-he gathered that they were a couple. Xander was also extremely vigilant, scanning all around him while keeping a stake and a vial of holy water at the ready; remarkably, the teenager seemed to have the instincts of a trained soldier. Giles carried a crossbow and several stakes, along with a small bag containing God knew what-he also seemed fully alert. As for his former nemesis . . .he trailed Buffy at a distance of about ten feet. Occasionally, Buffy would bark a question at him, and Angel would calmly answer, mollifying her. My God, he really is completely different now, he thought, his behavior would have been totally inconceivable from the old Angelus. He dismissed the thought as he felt a tingling in his paranormal senses. He called out; "Wait!" and the others halted, waiting for an explanation.
A little experimentation on his part produced a direction, and they followed him, Buffy at his side and Angel trailing at a discreet distance. They found her in a small park, sitting on a bench with her head in her hands. Buffy looked at Duncan and asked, "Okay, now what?"
Duncan replied, "Let me talk to her . . .perhaps I can convince her to talk to us on holy ground, so that she can feel safe." Buffy looked at her new friend and was concerned-if Alyssa attacked; he would likely be overwhelmed as quickly as Faith was, if not faster. "Are you sure, Duncan? I don't want to see you dead . . .twice in one night is quite enough, thank you."
Duncan chuckled under his breath, admiring the dedication of the young woman as he did so. "It's my place, Buffy. Remember, you must not interfere if she chooses to attack me . . .that is the foremost rule we have lived by for thousands of years." Buffy met his gaze and reluctantly nodded. Duncan walked to within fifty feet of the Immortal Slayer and called out softly, "Alyssa."
The woman looked up and met Duncan's eyes with her own. The crazed look that Faith had described was still there, and a pang of fear touched his heart. Gathering his courage, he called out again, "Alyssa. We want to help you . . .to protect from that which is driving you mad."
The Immortal Slayer laughed, and there was the taint of insanity in the sound. "You . . .help . . .me? What a cosmic joke that is. For centuries, I have tried to fulfill my duties as the Slayer, without ally or hope. Immortal after Immortal has challenged me and died, thusly endangering my immortal soul for my sin in killing them. Do you know how many times I have been tempted to lay down my blade and let one of them strike me down? But suicide would damn me to hell forever. I could cloister myself in a church, but then I would be prevented from practicing my Calling. I am doomed to eternal torment, perhaps no less than I would face in Hell, but this is the world I know, and I must play my part." Alyssa drew her blade with a speed that astonished Duncan and pointed it at him. "Leave me and never return, or surely I will kill you."
"Alyssa, wait. Listen to me."
Duncan whirled to see Buffy walking up beside him, with Faith about twenty feet behind, waiting silently. He looked sternly at her and snapped, "Buffy! You must not interfere!"
Buffy met his angry gaze with a quiet one of her own and replied, "She hasn't attacked you yet, has she? Besides, I think a change of approach is called for." She walked to within twenty feet of the Immortal Slayer and asked, "Alyssa, do you know what I am?"
The taller woman stared at Buffy for a long moment before her eyes widened, and Buffy could see the sanity returning to them as her paranormal senses fed her an astonishing conclusion. After a moment, she replied, "You are. . .a Chosen One! " She looked past Buffy at the waiting Faith and confusion ruled her expression, ". . .so is that one. How can that be?"
Buffy walked to within ten feet of Alyssa and began speaking again, strong emotion in her voice: "It's a long story, but I'd be glad to tell you, if you'd only be willing to listen. Alyssa, I've been the Slayer for nearly four years. I've suffered many hardships, but I know they are pretty much nothing compared to what you've put up with. The problem is, just by being what you are, you are a tempting target to the creatures who call this place "home". If they catch you, you are in for a long time of horrible torture, and I don't think I could bear that happening to you. Won't you come with us to holy ground, so that we can talk about this without worrying about any Immortals who might come by wanting your head?"
Alyssa looked at the young Slayer, and Buffy could see a tinge of wild hope in her eyes, only to see it vanish behind a cloud of cynicism. Alyssa snorted contemptuously and snapped, "Why should you want to help me? I'm just another Slayer whose time has past. Better to forget about me and bury me in some unmarked grave."
Tears came to Buffy's eyes as she heard the Immortal Slayer's words, then an immense anger rose to the surface. "Damn it, Alyssa. I spend hours every week learning about the Slayers who preceded me! I see their faces in my dreams. . .most of them died horribly, without hope of rescue or even assistance. My friend Kendra the Slayer died in my arms-I'll probably never get over that. But damn it, you're Immortal! Don't you get it. . .you've been a Slayer for four hundred years! Don't you think you have something to offer that doesn't involve you being killed by a vampire or being given a really short haircut? When I see you, I see hope! Please, can't we at least talk about it?"
Faith walked up beside Buffy and squeezed her arm before chiming in: "B's got it right, sister. I'm not thrilled that you chose to pound on me, but from what I hear you've had a rough time of it. I can identify. A pow-wow might be worth your time, don't you think?"
Alyssa put away her sword without apparent thought, and stood silent for a long moment before looking back at Buffy and Faith. "Very well, Chosen Ones. I do not guarantee that I will agree to what you propose, but I will listen. Take me to holy ground."
Duncan released the tension that caused his entire body to ache while he listened to the exchange between the three Slayers. Now all we need to do is get her to holy ground, he thought while looking around for the nearest route to a mausoleum.
Abruptly, Alyssa was knocked to the ground, and a red stain spread over her heart as a rifle shot crackled. Duncan sprang forward and reached the stricken Immortal, only to see that the wound would be temporarily mortal. Alyssa met his gaze and he could tell she knew that he had not betrayed her as the light left her eyes. Angrily, he got up and looked around, noting that the others were already efficiently searching around them looking for the assailants.
Buffy had spotted the ever-annoying Mr. Trick with a hunting rifle and tensed against the prospect of further bullets coming inbound. But Trick dropped the rifle, apparently realizing that it would be useless in close quarters. He whistled, and fifteen vampires broke cover and joined him as he walked towards the Slayers and their allies. When they were within thirty feet of the group of White Hats, Trick called out, "We've got you dead to rights, Slayers. Leave the body, and you'll make it through this night alive. If not, dinner time for us." He grinned, and asked:
"What's it going to be."
To be continued. . .
As before, comments are welcome and desired.
M. Scott Eiland