| CAN'T WAIT
Summary: Part .00 I watch her. Always. She never knew it. Only felt my eyes envelope her. Like a whisper in the wind, my breath would be quiet. Funny that I'm using a similie, trying to tell you how much I loved her. I've never really been good at this whole emotion thing. I've been trying, for her. I wonder she's noticed. Her eyes . . . so . . . beautiful . . . always filled with her thoughts. Dangerous eyes, those that tell thoughts. They give her away so many times. Sometimes, I close my own eyes and imagine her when she was laughing. Her eyes were bright, that brown and gold glinting with such warmth. I imagine her voice. Its so rich. So deep and gorgeous. Its filled with apathy, exactly what she was trained for. Her sayings so quick and so cynical. Sometimes I hurt when I think how she views life. I want to mask all that's ugly from her. I want to hide it behind beautiful rooms filled with paintings. I watch her, though she doesn't know. She'll be standing and talking and I'll forgot to listen into what she saying and I'll just admire her. She'll shift her shoulders uncomfortable, wondering if somebody is watching her, then shrugs it off and continues talking. Her smile is so sweet. After every rude, after every sarcastic remark, she gives the receipient a smile that would melt dry ice. Her even teeth show no color other than whiteness. Sometimes, though, she may have a smudge of her stick against it. She never wears any real makeup. Lipstick, that's all. Once, I saw her with her nails done up. Manicure. It was wonderful, so dainty and so un-her. Then, when I wasn't looking, she went away for a few days. When she got back yesterday, the nails were chipped. I felt bad for the smooth polish that had been there only days before. She'll get them fixed. Yesterday was so long ago. I can't wait to see her. Part .01 Zack pulled his collar up over neck, overly conscious of the tattoo that had been starting to show again. Though it had been two weeks since he had gotten the barcode removed, he could still feel the tingle on the back of his neck, where the acid-like lasers had taken the ink away. Now, the bright pink skin was turning into an inky black mass of lines and he was looking for another parlor to frequent, one that wouldn't remember his face. He took a sharp breath in the freezing air -- air that woke his lungs up and made ice form in the air as he exhaled the carbon monoxide -- as she stepped out of the apartment building. Every bit of clothing she was wearing accented her fine figure. She was dressed mostly in dark colors, as was usual with her, but he could see white lettering on the front of her shirt. Squinting in the dark of the near-morning, he made out the letters. "Girls kick a**," he muttered to himself, smiling at the audacity of the shirt. "Good one, Max." As she turned the corner at the end of the street, Zack started walking, trailing her by just a few hundred yards. Walking briskly to keep up with her fast pace, Zack nearly ran into someone when he reached the corner that Max had turned on. He mumbled an apology to the man, then made as if to leave. "Zack?" asked the man. Zack turned his head sharply and glanced up into the face of the figure. "What are you doing here?" Zack recognized in dismay Bling's face smiling at him. He glared for just a moment, letting Bling feel uncomfortable under his eyes. "Trying to catch up to Max," he said gruffly, telling the truth, for the moment at least. Bling looked up the street he had just exited. Spotting Max, he pointed. "There she is. You'd better jog to catch up with her. I don't think she realizes you're here," Bling dropped his hand to his side. "You're probably right. I'd better get going. It's not that important, I was just checking up on her," Zach made his escape, slipping alongside a woman and disapearing around the corner. He was angry with himself. In the three weeks he had been in Seattle, he hadn't been seen once by any who would know and remember him. Why had he let himself slip up this morning? What in the world was Bling doing on the streets so early in the morning? Of course he would have to make himself known to Max. Bling would most likely mention Zack's name, introducing it in a casual way into everyday conversation. Max would be angry if he didn't show himself before Bling told her. Not that seeing her angry was one hundred percent uncomfortable for him. "Max," he said when he finally got about two feet behind her. Max turned her head sharply, then saw Zack's face and smiled. Zack's heart gave a leap as she reached over to embrace him. Part .02 Max let go of Zack, then stepped back and took a look at him. There were silver tears in her eyes, ones that made Zack want to reach up and brush them away with the tips of his fingers. Ones that made him want to slowly follow with his thumb the trail that they would make with their saltiness and then hold her. Instead of doing either, he remained where he was, stiff with nervousness. "Zack," Max looked down. She looked almost ashamed. What was going on? Zack felt his expression break and his voice crack out words. "What's wrong, Maxie?" Zack used the old nickname, trying to ease the tension that had slowly built around them. Max reached up and hugged him again. "Ben . . . dead . . . no other choice . . . why didn't you stop him?" Max cried faintly into his thick coats. Zack pulled her back and looked into her tear streaked face. "Ben's dead?" Zack asked. Max nodded mutely. "Who?" Max looked down, then pointed to herself. Zack felt the blood rush from his face. "He was killing people. I stopped him from killing a priest, but . . . I broke his leg badly in the fight . . . Lydecker was there . . . he didn't want to be a nomily!" Max cried fiercely. "He wasn't going back there! It hurt me Zack," her face contorted. "I told him . . . I told him to talk about . . . about his happy place . . . then I snapped his vertebrae . . . God, Zack, I didn't want to do it! What other choice did I have?" Roughly, Zack pulled her against him and held her, letting his hand go through her hair. "It's okay, Maxie. It's okay. I swear. I know. I know, Maxie," he said, without much thought to his words. "I couldn't stop him, Maxie. I didn't know, I promise. I couldn't stop him if I didn't know." A lie. Zack was telling Max a lie. Then again, Zack couldn't very well tell Max that he saw the killings as a sort of therapy for Ben -- Ben, who couldn't control his emotions. "You did right, Max. He wasn't supposed to be a nomily." Max pulled back, once again. The hurt in her eyes. She moved her mouth several times. She didn't know how to tell him something, Zack could see. Finally, "I loved him and I killed him. I loved my brother so much and I had to kill him." "I know," Zack murmured. "I know." He held her again, for a moment, in the early morning, in the middle of street, praying, for the first time in his life, that the moment could go on forever. Part .03 They went at Logan's. Max had insisted on going there. Apparently, she had left her pager over there when she took a shower -- Zack could only assume after she had gotten back from the woods -- and changed clothing. At the moment, Max was looking in the hamper in the bathroom while Zack and Logan stared each other down. Zack had immense dislike for the man that kept Max in Seattle. Not only was Lydecker closing down on Max, but with the appearance of now four different known X-5s in the Seattle area, it had to be known as something of a hot spot for Manticores. Zack had warned everyone to stay out of the Washington area. He himself couldn't tear himself away from it, from Max. Max came out and gave a smile. She's smiling for him, Zack though enviously. She doesn't smile for me like that, so full of love. Zack purpusly stepped away from Logan's chair and nearer the door. Max noticed this movement, as did Logan, though neither commented on it. "So," Max said cheerfully, "when's the next X-5 reunion? Or is it rescheduled?" Zack looked at her, knowing that if it were possible he would tell her where all her brother and sisters were. Of the original eleven he had been in charge of, only nine remained for him to watch, for him to protect. The one that needed him most hadn't any contact number, but she was unaware of how close he was at most times. If things had been different, he would have taken her to each and every sibling. If Max had loved him, Zack would have shown her and told her exactly what each brother and each sister had made of their life. "Didn't you hear?" Zack said dryly. "It was last week. D*mn post office must have lost the invitation." "Yeah, they're awful nowadays," Logan said this with a laugh, but Zack was again reminded that he was the only one in the room to have ever had the feeling of no pulse. Logan had been twenty-one when the pulse had gone off, Logan had had twenty-one years of going into a store and finding it stocked full of food and other things that he had taken for granted. Logan had had only eleven years of not being able to find even the barest necessities sometimes. "So, how're the others," Max popped this on him, though Zack knew that she would ask, sooner or later. Max would always begin by asking about the next reunion, then of the others. It was her way of easing into the topic, of not scaring him, but a way of startling him into a sudden answer. It never worked, Zack knew Max's style too well. Still, he let his features take a look of restraint. "Fine," he grunted out, turning from the door and walking to the window to stare out into the night, aware that Max and Logan both were watching him anxiously from the couch, aware of exactly how close they were sitting, aware of how Max's curls were falling on her face and back. "How's work been? Normal been giving you crap lately?" "Yeah," Max smiled at Zack's attempt at the easy Seattle way of speaking. "He's been riding my a** all week for signatures. As if I had the time to get signatures in my line of work, you know?" Zack listened to Max's words, her phrases, and memorized them. He was entranced by the way her mouth moved when she spoke, by the way her lips would form the words. He loved her lips, how plump and shiny they were. The rest of the evening was similar as described above. Logan would make small jokes, Zack would ask Max questions, sometimes with Seattle slang, sometimes with out, and Max would reply with bright cheerfulness that everyone knew she didn't feel. Zack left, before anyone could stop him. He knew that he was a rift in the room. He didn't know how to stop being the rift. He was much better watching her life, not being in it. He would have to learn how to intergrate himself into her life, slowly. He would have to learn how to make her love him. Part .04 Zack forced himself to check on the others for two weeks before he went back to Seattle. Zack realized that he needed to make certain that everyone was still okay. True, there hadn't been any messages on the number that he had given them. There was still the idea that they couldn't reach the phone. Zack checked up on Tinga and her adorable son, so bright. He feigned happiness at the latest baby pictures that Krit showed him of her nephew. He made certain that Jondy didn't do any more suspicious motorcycle stunts. Then he returned to Seattle. He returned to Max. Max was still her wisecracking, cynical self when Zack began watching her life again. Sketchy, her odd friend in the weird hat, was at the time trying to see how far Max would let him go with her. Max was very patient, in the way that Zack knew that Max would blow Sketchy's head off if he went to far. Sketchy, usually drunk when he was brave enough to accost Max, hadn't crossed any lines yet. "Sketchy," Max said one day when she had been fondled a little much, "if you don't get your hands off me, I will personally castrate you. And I mean it. Don't think I wont. I don't know if I've told you this, but I've done it before . . ." "Meah, Yex, Meah right," Sketchy slurred. Zack detested men who allowed themselves to be taken over by drink. They were weak, letting themselves get overtaken by something so evil. Something that had taken over Lydecker was something that everyone should stay clear of. It made a strong man weak. "Look, Yex, I think I might hork . . ." "Not over my shoes," Max said, pulling Sketchy to his feet and pushing him toward the back. Sketchy had been trying to go out through the women's bathroom. Whether this was an intentional try to get into the women's room or Sketchy's mistake for the alley doorway, it was anyone's guess. "I feel like I've done this before. Next time, Herbal, its your turn." "Right, my sistah," Herbal replied good-naturedly, taking a large bite out of a cookie. Zack smelled a slight ordure coming from the cookie and was willing to bet it was a specially made cookie. Zack had seen such cookies before, and knew of their secret ingredient. "Like I've never heard that before," Max said, turning Sketchy around back toward the door. Zack had heard it before, also. "Wrong way, boo. You gotta go this way." ~*~*~*~*~* Zack was watching her, maybe three weeks after he had returned to Seattle, when suddenly he experienced an incredible urge to run out and just hide her from the view of the world. Zack wanted to hide her from everything that would hurt her, everything that would want to hurt her. And that's when he got the plan. It didn't begin as a plan. It began more like a flight of fancy, a daydream that he didn't take seriously. It was just a fleeting thought, a thought that came back to him again and again. It seemed crazy at first, it seemed impossible. Then, ever so slowly, he began to realize how it could work. Zack saw how it would certainly show Max how much he cared. It would show her how much she meant to him. He didn't rush out to her at that moment, the moment when she was on the street. On the contrary, for weeks, he gathered the supplies he would need. He brought a warehouse in Surrey, British Columbia. Tazers were stocked. He knew what he need to do, what level to get on everything. He knew her level of resistance, he knew what she was immune to and he knew what she wasn't. He knew how to control her. He knew how to make her smile, how to make her laugh. He knew how what made her cry. It was her mind that he was so intertwined with. It was her mind that he wanted to use and her mind that he loved so much. He knew what things to buy to make her comfortable. He didn't want to scare her. He wanted to make a homelike environment. Zack spent thousands, all from various bank accounts he was * lucky * enough to get access to, on things he considered worthy of Max. A new motorcycle was the first thing on his list. As soon as it was purchased, he went out and got a state of the art alarm system installed in the warehouse. He was careful. He didn't want everything to fall down. Zack was away from her for an extremely long period of time. Zack was away from four months, gathering his supplies. The longest he had ever been away from Max, actually. Even those two terrifying months when he was first out of Manticore, Max was the first of his siblings that he found. He had been extremely angry at Jondy when he realized they weren't together, but he had gotten over it. Zack knew he had to be careful. Careful soldiers get the spoils of war. Those who aren't careful, those who aren't the best, get nothing. Part .05 She wouldn't know. It would be done without her realizing what was happening to her. His plan would be so careful. It needed to be that. Zack was quite proud of himself. He had set out with an objective in mind and now it was almost accomplished. Before he set the final stages of his plan into order, he checked on the others. Always, he must be certain that they were safe. He must be certain that they were in no danger, no danger of any of the many things that could be wrong with them. Zack was their leader, he was the one who needed to keep them safe. Out of the original eleven that he had been in charge of, after the escape, only nine remained to be looked after. In all fairness, as Zack often told himself, there was only one who needed his attention, only one who posed any threat. She was in Seattle. However, Zack was going to change that. It was his ultimate plan. The thing that would help him keep her safe. It was genius. It was, of course, exactly the sort of plan that Lydecker would have been proud of. In the shadow of his plan, Zack saw no wrong with this. ~~~~~~~~~~ Zack restrained her when she was alone. Tired. It was just after a few hours of working for Logan. She was annoyed at something, it was plain to see. It made it easier for Zack. All he had to do was tap her on the arm, make his presence known to Max. Then, he tazered her. It was simple. Max twitched a few times, then slumped forward onto Zack. Smiling, Zack brought her forward the few steps it was to the car that he had rented. Placing Max in the back, he lifted the seat vertical once again and then eased into it. As an afterthought, Zack went back to Max and injected into her the sedatives that he had brought along. Zack resettled himself comfortably into the front seat. Starting the car, he drove into the darkness, heading northward. The first of his plan had gone brilliantly. Max was still asleep in the back, hopefully she would stay that way for several more hours, as Zack made his way to the second step. Part .06 She began to wake three hours into the trip. So the sedatives -- designed to knock a man out for twelve to fourteen hours -- had a fairly good effect. Zack first noticed her stirring and calling -- groggily -- out something her couldn't quite make. "It's okay, Maxie," Zack said as he turned off the road onto a shoulder. Opening the door, he looked at her figure, haphazardly positioned, try to reorient herself. "How're you feeling?" Zack asked as he filled the needle. Max made some sounds, sounds that sounded a lot like his name. "Yes, Maxie, Zack's here. I'm gonna take care of you," he told her as he put the needle into her vein. She fought very slightly as he was doing so. He went much further north than the location of the warehouse was. However, there was stradgy in this. If Max had even the vaguest thought of the time passing, he wanted to give her idea there were much further away from Seattle than they actually were. Finally, two hours away from the warehouse, he turned and went toward it. The warehouse was on an almost deserted street, far out into the country. There were two or three other warehouses, he would have to be careful; though, from the smell of the chemicals, they were just as worried about the new neighbor as he was about them. He reached there almost eight hours after leaving Seattle. So many detours, so many times he had stopped and calmed his racing heart. Hardly any delays at the checkpoints into Canada. He carried her into the front of the warehouse. From the outside, one would almost assume it was a normal warehouse. If you viewed any of the windows, you would see shelves, stacked with wooden boxes, against a wall. When you entered, you viewed what you assumed was a hallway, about five feet wide, with shelves against the wall. If you walked that hallway, you would come back to the original starting place -- the wall went the entire way around the warehouse, with no apparent door inside. Upon closer inspection of the boxes, you would find many were empty, though, if searched carefully, you would find blankets in a few of them. Zack walked exactly twenty feet, turning once, then viewed some boxes carefully. Placing Max on the floor, he moved some boxes aside, revealing a door. He carefully manuvered the boxes so that he would be able to slip through them and reach the door. Opening the door, he scooped up Max and went through the door. Once inside, he turned and moved a bookcase against the wall, fastening it in place with a hook. It was now invisible to the unobservant observer. The inside of the room was almost exactly the same as the outerway. There was a four and a half foot wide hallway, though, instead of five. The shelves lining the walls. were filled with metal boxes, locked. Going to the opposite wall that he was facing, Zack once again opened a door behind some boxes, this time showing a large and ample room, filled with what appeared to be living room furniture. Zack placed Max on the couch, the turned and fastened a large bookshelf over the door. There were no windows to be seen. Zack smiled to himself, viewing the room. It looked to be an apartment of sorts. An apartment that was a box within a box within a box. It was extremely big, with many lighting fixtures in the high ceiling. There was an open kitchen and a dining room connected to the living room. They almost seemed to flow into each other. There was a hallway toward the right, away from the kitchen and dining room, with three doors. Two of the doors were opened. One was a closet, filled with hangers and boxes. Zack removed his coat and placed it on a hanger, then closed the door. Once again picking up Max, Zack went with her to the second room that was open. It was a bedroom, with a huge bed in the middle of it. The main colors of the room seemed to be dark blues, purples, and blacks. There were open doors showing a bathroom and a closet. Zack placed her on the bed, the sat down on the chair and watched, anticipating her awakening. Part .07 Zack waited quite a while for Max to begin stirring. It began with a soft twitching of the cheeks. Laying on her side facing him, Zack watched as her eyebrow slowly moved up and down with the movement of her cheeks. Finally, she flashed her eyes open momentarily. Closing them, she opened once again, then once again she closed. Finally, after the fifth time of such exercises, she kept her eyes open. "Zack," she whispered, "where am I?" Dazed, she tried to raise her head. Zack could see that the effort was beyond her, as she put her head down on the pillow once again. Smiling at her, Zack gently reached over and cupped his hand over hers. "It's okay, Maxie," he murmured. "You're with me right now . . . nothing will hurt you . . ." "Why am I here?" she seemed stronger at the moment, Zack thought. Zack just shook his head, then put his finger to his lips, indicating that Max should be quiet. Keeping eye contact with him, Max seemed almost hypnotized by the deep hue. Suddenly, she shook her head, as if clearing cobwebs from it. "Zack!" she cried. "Maxie, its okay . . . you're okay . . ." Zack tried to tell her again. Max leaned up on her elbows, pulling the covers un-tucked. "You're a redundant person, aren't you?" she snapped. Zack smiled; his vinegar was back and ready to fight. She would find nothing to fight with here. Glancing proudly around, Zack noted the pillows in the room. The dark purples and blues of the pillows seemed to be everywhere -- propped up against the end of a bookshelf here and there. "I told you before, and I'll tell you again, you're safe," Zack leaned back in his chair and watched as Max bundled out of the bed. Inwardly laughing at her confusion as she frantically looked around the room, he kept a calm exterior. "There aren't any windows," Max had come to that conclusion very quickly. Zack watched as she went to the hallway after pacing back and forth in the room. "There aren't any window's anywhere, Zack," she called out to him. "I know," Zack said quietly. He knew that Max could hear him, however softly he spoke. He felt no need to shout, plain as it was that Max did. Zack stood up, then walked to the door, slowly, methodically. "There are skylights, Max." "I can see the stupid skylights, Zack. Why the hell am I here?" Max stormed into the room, pushing Zack out of the way. "How do I get out?" Max opened the door to the closet, then the bathroom. Finally, she sat heavily down on the bed. "You don't get out," Zack walked toward her. "You stay with me. I brought you here to make certain that you never get hurt." He braced himself when she walked over and slapped him. "You can't control me," she spat out at him. "I'm leaving." Once again she rushed out of the room. Zack sat down on the bed where Max had been sitting previous to her departure. A small smile played across his features as he listened to here futile attempt to find some way of reaching the outside. "Goddamnit, Zack," he heard her screech. When Max became tired of searching for a way out, she tried to break the walls down. Little did she know and soon did she find out that the walls Zack had built were made of a strong steel and concrete combination. Cursing him, she deserted her attempts of smashing her way out and sat down, fuming, on the couch. Zack walked out of the bedroom, through the living room, past the steaming Max, and into the kitchen, where he began to make dinner. Bringing out from the refrigerator several bowls, he opened them and inspected their contents. "What're you making?" Max glanced upward at Zack, just to her side view. Not stopping from the task at which he was working, Zack replied, in the same quiet voice he had been using all evening, "I'm making dinner for us." "Zack," the voiced that issued forth from Max's throat was desperate. "Why am I here?" Zack stopped, confused. Hadn't he already made it clear to Max? He must save her from herself, at all costs. Even if it meant keeping her from what she thought she needed. "Maxie," he said, getting back to his work, "you can't just run around, super girl that you are." "I see the sarcasm that's laced into your words," Max told him, looking down at the couch. Zack knew that she was formulating a plan. "Don't you love me?" Without pausing to think at all, Zack replied, "As I love the life in my own body." "Then let me go . . . Zack . . . you're behaving like a nomolie," Max declared. Zack dropped the onion he was holding and ran to her. "I am not a nomolie!" he cried. "I am never going to tolerate that! Do you understand!" Suddenly, he was shaking her, hard, by the shoulders. With every word, her head went back and forth. "I. Am. Not. A. Nomolie!" "Zack, stop it! Zack, you're hurting me!" Max reached up and tried to pry Zack's grip from her shoulders. For the first time, Zack realized what he was doing. "I'm sorry," he told her, gruffly. Max moved her head a bit, checking out her neck. "I didn't mean to use physical violence on you." "Let me go," Max tried again. Automatically, Zack replied no. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Of the days that went by, the first had been the easiest. Each day trapped in captivity, Max walked and paced as an animal. Twice, she started destroying bookshelves, getting dangerously close to the hidden door. Only just in time, Zack was able to subdue her with a shot of the clear liquid which he had bought from his source. On the eighth day, Max seemed less angry at Zack. He was glad, because she he been getting rather hostile in the latest days. Zack was even permitted to brush her wavy hair after she had taken a shower. He had softly brushed it with the large, brown brush, letting his fingers stray and stroke her hair. He sensed the change in her mood before he actually realized it. Without warning, he was on the ground, being wrestled by an armed Max. She had what appeared to be a gun. Zack knew how much Max loathed guns. He knew it. Eva had been to dear to her and had been killed by a gun. Zack knew that Max would never fire. Until she did. She missed him by just barely nine centimeters. Suddenly the game had become dangerous. Zack was no longer playfully romping, he was stopping Max from killing him. That is when he did the only thing logical. He pried the gun from her fingers and turned it up her, shooting her once in the head. The anguish he felt filled him to the very core. He knew without checking her life was gone. Once again, Zack had failed at his mission. There was nothing to do but to turn the gun upon himself, which he did promptly. THE END |
