Very Important A/N: Okay, I decided to post all the remaining chapters I have written because this thing may be about to go on hiatus. My ISP is on the verge of bankrupcy, you see, and my connection might be turned off tonight. So this may very well be the last any of you hear from me or this story for awhile. If this does happen, I'll probably have the rest written by the time I get back on-line so you'll get the rest of it at that point, heh. Anyway...for the select few of you who actually give a damn about this story, I'm sorry to leave you hanging, but hey, if you think about it, this was a pretty good chapter to begin the hiatus on, eh? Nice little pseudo-cliffhanger. It'll be just like waiting all summer for the new season to begin, lol. But enough of my rambling...
*******
Since last night, she had felt as though someone was watching her, waiting for her to leave. Not that it surprised her; someone had managed to rip off a thing or two a couple days ago, and it was no secret they were looking for more. Max's bike had been moved from its sacred resting place and crashed heavily to the floor when the criminal had rushed out the window in a panic. Its new home, freshly bent handlebars, micellaneous dents and all, was in the room Max had once called her own, and Original Cindy was deadset on protecting it. Besides the lone photograph pinned up on the refridgerator, the bike was all she had left of her best friend. No one was going to rob her of that.
She exited the apartment and leaned back against the door, hardly daring to breathe. Sure enough, she heard the slight click of the window being opened and the soft, almost imperceptible sound of someone jumping to the floor. A few seconds later, she burst through the door and grabbed frantically for the knife she had taken to securing in her sock since she'd found out who and what Max really was.
"Freeze!" she yelled at the intruder, who had, as she'd expected, gone straight to the bike and who was presently shrouded in shadow. "Don't move, 'less you want me to gut you." //Aw, who you foolin? Like you got the balls to gut anybody. Original Cindy may go for the ladies, but she ain't no macho.//
The burglar did as asked, shoulders visibly tightening, in much the way did those of a frightened cat. Only two people she'd ever met in her life had reminded her of a feline, and they were both supposed to be dead. But this person's likeness to one of them had suddenly become painfully uncanny.
"L...look," she stammered as she tried to control her rising emotions, "much as I definitely will should I have to, I ain't all down with hurtin you. If I don't gotta resort to that, it's more'n cool with me. So why don't ya just get yo'self outta here right quick so none of us hafta get in a situation we ain't wanna be in."
"Well...I can't say I don't agree with you," said the thief softly. God, that voice was so familiar. God...it couldn't be, could it? The figure turned, her face coming into the light, and a fresh batch of tears welled up in the corners of Cindy's eyes. "But I AM taking the bike."
"Oh god, Max," Cindy whispered, dropping the knife and rushing without a second thought to embrace her friend. Even her tears were shocked away when Max backed out of the hug, nearly toppling over her "baby" in the process. "Boo, whuz wrong?"
"Nothing, I...I gotta blaze." Max rounded her bike, scoffing at the bumps and bruises it had suffered in her absence but figuring them relatively unimportant at the moment. This was not going well at all; horribly, in fact. Such a run-in was probably even less welcome than the one with Logan and she felt rotten. Rotten and fearful of another stupid argument. Such needed to be avoided; her departure this time around had to be as swift as possible, so she wheeled her bike from her room and took care to avert her eyes from Cindy's questioning gaze.
"Oh, nothin, is it?" she snapped as Max stalked by. "Yeah, nothin 'cept Original Cindy's homegirl's actin like she ain't recognize her best friend. Seriously, girl, what's on wit you?"
Max heaved a wavery sigh. "Nothing I want you to have to deal with, okay? I'm talking black helicopter stuff, which is why I need to get out of here."
"But...why? It don't make sense...I mean, they ain't never keep you from stayin before. What's so different now? You got friends here, Max. I'M your friend. I don't want fools takin you down again, for sure, but I ain't like ta see you hurtin none, either, and I can tell that you are. Somethin pretty wack musta happened...at least clue me in some."
"I can't do that," Max replied with a sniffle. "I already did once, and..." //The pain...oh god, Zack, why didn't I listen in the first place?// "...well...let's just say I already ended one relationship on a bad note. I don't want that to be the way it goes down with you and me, okay?" She didn't give Cindy a chance to answer...minutes later she was speeding toward the state line, trying to focus on the rush she typically received from the ride but failing miserably.
Cindy, meanwhile, couldn't keep from collapsing in sobs. Her best friend had just walked out of her life...not because she was dead or captured, but of her own design. No explanation. No real good-bye. And one all important name was now insisting it have Cindy's full attention. She gave in to its demands once she'd calmed herself considerably and dialed the familiar digits with a sorrowful sense of desperation.
*******
Ah, the phone. What a joy it was to be subjected to its annoyingly monotonous tone. His sanity thanked him for setting the machine to pick up after only the first ring, and he sank back into both his pillow and his depression when he realized the caller wasn't Lydecker. It sounded like a frantic Original Cindy...she'd probably just received the same warm reception he'd gotten from Max the night before. Oh well. He'd deal with her some other time. Maybe not at all. None of it mattered anymore. He felt this strange need to make sure Lydecker got out all right and knew Max's current status, but after that was through, it was all over. Eyes Only, even. Sure, he'd carry his part of the bargain and compromise Manticore should his ally fail to check in. But that would be it. It was time to pack it in. He had no reason to drag it out any further, not even a reason to protect his wealth. Max was gone. Because she wanted to be. And he couldn't handle that.
It was almost strange. At least when she'd been presumed dead, there was a certainty that she cared and that she felt toward him what he felt toward her. He had thought finding her alive would lead to a realized dream, make him happier than he'd even imagined. Boy, was he wrong. He almost wished that she had really died; whatever they might have had was over either way, but it would have been a slightly positive end had it been on the battle field. They'd have parted on good terms. Now, though, he didn't even have that to go on, and he had to curse himself for being so selfish and even daring to think such things. He felt like a zombie, destined to wander aimlessly through a worthless existence, like he was undeserving of anything more. And as a result of that, the same feelings of helplessness he'd felt when he'd lost his legs for the second time were resurfacing, slowly pushing him toward a self-induced end.
*******
"Oh no," he groaned when his vision had righted itself. This was a cell. With an intercom and a camera. And his head hurt like hell.
He last remembered taking out a young guard in the hall, only then to be confronted with blackness. Someone had obviously taken the opportunity to knock him out. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Good thing he and Logan had agreed on minimal contact...had they used coms or some other device to stay in touch, good old Eyes Only would surely be sharing this cell right now.
He got to his feet, amazed and oddly pleased that they felt secure enough not to have restrained him. He scrutinized the room for anything he could use to his advantage, quickly agreeing with the level of confidence they had in his successful incarceration. He could find nothing, not even a blind spot in the camera, which was highly sensitive to motion and mirrored his every move. Check and mate. He hoped Logan had the guts to go through with the anti-Manticore hack.
"Nice to see you finally back on your feet, Deck," came a cheerful female voice over the intercom. He startled at first, then scowled at the recognition.
"Wish I could say the same about hearing your voice again, ELIZABETH," he spat bitterly. He cringed at her subsequent chuckle.
"You always were quite the witty one," she mused. "I'd almost go so far as to say that you're who X5-452 gets it from, but in light of your failures the past 11 years that wouldn't make much sense, would it?"
He ignored the insult, focusing on the more important matter. "What do you know about X5-452? Are you saying you have her alive?" She chuckled once again, louder and far more annoyingly this time.
"Don't even try it, Deck. One of the wonderful things about this situation is that, as usual, I'm not obligated to tell you anything. But you, on the other hand...you've been associating with some people we're very interested in getting our hands on. X5-711, X5-701...possibly even the great Eyes Only himself. And you're in no position to deny us their locations."
Truthfully, this frightened him to the core. But he had become a master at suppressing such emotions, so he reacted with a laugh. "And what if I don't know, hmm? What if I'm unable to give you those locations?"
"Well," Renfro replied, "then I guess we'll just have to kill you."
*******
Since last night, she had felt as though someone was watching her, waiting for her to leave. Not that it surprised her; someone had managed to rip off a thing or two a couple days ago, and it was no secret they were looking for more. Max's bike had been moved from its sacred resting place and crashed heavily to the floor when the criminal had rushed out the window in a panic. Its new home, freshly bent handlebars, micellaneous dents and all, was in the room Max had once called her own, and Original Cindy was deadset on protecting it. Besides the lone photograph pinned up on the refridgerator, the bike was all she had left of her best friend. No one was going to rob her of that.
She exited the apartment and leaned back against the door, hardly daring to breathe. Sure enough, she heard the slight click of the window being opened and the soft, almost imperceptible sound of someone jumping to the floor. A few seconds later, she burst through the door and grabbed frantically for the knife she had taken to securing in her sock since she'd found out who and what Max really was.
"Freeze!" she yelled at the intruder, who had, as she'd expected, gone straight to the bike and who was presently shrouded in shadow. "Don't move, 'less you want me to gut you." //Aw, who you foolin? Like you got the balls to gut anybody. Original Cindy may go for the ladies, but she ain't no macho.//
The burglar did as asked, shoulders visibly tightening, in much the way did those of a frightened cat. Only two people she'd ever met in her life had reminded her of a feline, and they were both supposed to be dead. But this person's likeness to one of them had suddenly become painfully uncanny.
"L...look," she stammered as she tried to control her rising emotions, "much as I definitely will should I have to, I ain't all down with hurtin you. If I don't gotta resort to that, it's more'n cool with me. So why don't ya just get yo'self outta here right quick so none of us hafta get in a situation we ain't wanna be in."
"Well...I can't say I don't agree with you," said the thief softly. God, that voice was so familiar. God...it couldn't be, could it? The figure turned, her face coming into the light, and a fresh batch of tears welled up in the corners of Cindy's eyes. "But I AM taking the bike."
"Oh god, Max," Cindy whispered, dropping the knife and rushing without a second thought to embrace her friend. Even her tears were shocked away when Max backed out of the hug, nearly toppling over her "baby" in the process. "Boo, whuz wrong?"
"Nothing, I...I gotta blaze." Max rounded her bike, scoffing at the bumps and bruises it had suffered in her absence but figuring them relatively unimportant at the moment. This was not going well at all; horribly, in fact. Such a run-in was probably even less welcome than the one with Logan and she felt rotten. Rotten and fearful of another stupid argument. Such needed to be avoided; her departure this time around had to be as swift as possible, so she wheeled her bike from her room and took care to avert her eyes from Cindy's questioning gaze.
"Oh, nothin, is it?" she snapped as Max stalked by. "Yeah, nothin 'cept Original Cindy's homegirl's actin like she ain't recognize her best friend. Seriously, girl, what's on wit you?"
Max heaved a wavery sigh. "Nothing I want you to have to deal with, okay? I'm talking black helicopter stuff, which is why I need to get out of here."
"But...why? It don't make sense...I mean, they ain't never keep you from stayin before. What's so different now? You got friends here, Max. I'M your friend. I don't want fools takin you down again, for sure, but I ain't like ta see you hurtin none, either, and I can tell that you are. Somethin pretty wack musta happened...at least clue me in some."
"I can't do that," Max replied with a sniffle. "I already did once, and..." //The pain...oh god, Zack, why didn't I listen in the first place?// "...well...let's just say I already ended one relationship on a bad note. I don't want that to be the way it goes down with you and me, okay?" She didn't give Cindy a chance to answer...minutes later she was speeding toward the state line, trying to focus on the rush she typically received from the ride but failing miserably.
Cindy, meanwhile, couldn't keep from collapsing in sobs. Her best friend had just walked out of her life...not because she was dead or captured, but of her own design. No explanation. No real good-bye. And one all important name was now insisting it have Cindy's full attention. She gave in to its demands once she'd calmed herself considerably and dialed the familiar digits with a sorrowful sense of desperation.
*******
Ah, the phone. What a joy it was to be subjected to its annoyingly monotonous tone. His sanity thanked him for setting the machine to pick up after only the first ring, and he sank back into both his pillow and his depression when he realized the caller wasn't Lydecker. It sounded like a frantic Original Cindy...she'd probably just received the same warm reception he'd gotten from Max the night before. Oh well. He'd deal with her some other time. Maybe not at all. None of it mattered anymore. He felt this strange need to make sure Lydecker got out all right and knew Max's current status, but after that was through, it was all over. Eyes Only, even. Sure, he'd carry his part of the bargain and compromise Manticore should his ally fail to check in. But that would be it. It was time to pack it in. He had no reason to drag it out any further, not even a reason to protect his wealth. Max was gone. Because she wanted to be. And he couldn't handle that.
It was almost strange. At least when she'd been presumed dead, there was a certainty that she cared and that she felt toward him what he felt toward her. He had thought finding her alive would lead to a realized dream, make him happier than he'd even imagined. Boy, was he wrong. He almost wished that she had really died; whatever they might have had was over either way, but it would have been a slightly positive end had it been on the battle field. They'd have parted on good terms. Now, though, he didn't even have that to go on, and he had to curse himself for being so selfish and even daring to think such things. He felt like a zombie, destined to wander aimlessly through a worthless existence, like he was undeserving of anything more. And as a result of that, the same feelings of helplessness he'd felt when he'd lost his legs for the second time were resurfacing, slowly pushing him toward a self-induced end.
*******
"Oh no," he groaned when his vision had righted itself. This was a cell. With an intercom and a camera. And his head hurt like hell.
He last remembered taking out a young guard in the hall, only then to be confronted with blackness. Someone had obviously taken the opportunity to knock him out. Wonderful. Just wonderful. Good thing he and Logan had agreed on minimal contact...had they used coms or some other device to stay in touch, good old Eyes Only would surely be sharing this cell right now.
He got to his feet, amazed and oddly pleased that they felt secure enough not to have restrained him. He scrutinized the room for anything he could use to his advantage, quickly agreeing with the level of confidence they had in his successful incarceration. He could find nothing, not even a blind spot in the camera, which was highly sensitive to motion and mirrored his every move. Check and mate. He hoped Logan had the guts to go through with the anti-Manticore hack.
"Nice to see you finally back on your feet, Deck," came a cheerful female voice over the intercom. He startled at first, then scowled at the recognition.
"Wish I could say the same about hearing your voice again, ELIZABETH," he spat bitterly. He cringed at her subsequent chuckle.
"You always were quite the witty one," she mused. "I'd almost go so far as to say that you're who X5-452 gets it from, but in light of your failures the past 11 years that wouldn't make much sense, would it?"
He ignored the insult, focusing on the more important matter. "What do you know about X5-452? Are you saying you have her alive?" She chuckled once again, louder and far more annoyingly this time.
"Don't even try it, Deck. One of the wonderful things about this situation is that, as usual, I'm not obligated to tell you anything. But you, on the other hand...you've been associating with some people we're very interested in getting our hands on. X5-711, X5-701...possibly even the great Eyes Only himself. And you're in no position to deny us their locations."
Truthfully, this frightened him to the core. But he had become a master at suppressing such emotions, so he reacted with a laugh. "And what if I don't know, hmm? What if I'm unable to give you those locations?"
"Well," Renfro replied, "then I guess we'll just have to kill you."