Part 8
A cold breeze kicked up from somewhere, riffling across the back of his neck and down his arms and sending a shiver through him that roused him from the trance-like state he'd somehow drifted into. OK, time to move – he couldn't sit there all day, could he?
He swung his legs out of the car and slid to the ground, the harsh contact of sharp gravel on bare skin dragging his gaze down to assess his current situation. He realised with dismay that he was dressed only in a black tank t-shirt and sweatpants – no shoes, a fact that he couldn't remember registering at any point during his headlong rush for freedom. It sure did now, though, making his progress to the back of the car to check out the trunk's contents less than pleasant. And it was a wasted journey anyway – it yielded nothing more than the expected spare tire and jack, and a half empty bottle of water. No gas can, no clothing, no footwear, none of the things on his wish-list – how unreasonable was that!
He closed the lid again, resting both hands on it and letting his head fall forward as he tried to prevent what felt alarmingly like hysteria taking a grip. This was just great! Miles from anywhere, more suitably dressed for a dojo work out than a cross-country hike, running from something he didn't understand and with no idea where he was running to. Good work, Jesse – real good work!
With an effort he straightened and looked around. A distant rumbling drew his attention to the towering thunderclouds, spitting occasional streaks of fire as the impending storm grew in force, and he could feel the approaching rain in the soft caress of the fine veil of moisture riding the wind that was starting to toss the branches of the trees.
Indecision tore at him; should he stay and avail himself of the shelter offered by the car? Or go off in search of help? Dressed as he was, it should have been a no-brainer – he wasn't going to get far with no shoes, with nothing to protect him from the weather and the falling temperatures as the afternoon drew towards evening.
But there was something just below the surface of his mind screaming at him that he needed to keep moving, that sitting here waiting for... whatever he knew was after him to just catch up would be far worse than whatever the elements could throw at him.
'But where can I go?' wailed the child in him. He suddenly felt very small and very, very alone, dwarfed by the natural immensity of his surroundings and the apparent vastness of the dilemma that faced him. But the child answered its own question. 'Home. I want to go home.' Simple. He should be able to remember where home was, shouldn't he? And not the home of his childhood, a place he knew he no longer wanted to be. No, some place he belonged now, where he'd be safe. But when he dug into that part of his mind where that information should live, it seemed empty, a void he could find no clues in, nothing that even began to identify where that place might be.
Something told him this wasn't the way it should be, that there had to be more to his existence than that which he could find in his memories. It was as if he was only half a person, as if that which made him whole had been taken from him somehow. But the more he searched for something, anything to tell him what – no, who he'd lost, the more his head ached until he couldn't even see straight, let alone think.
Unnoticed, a silver curtain of rain had moved towards him across the valley beyond, and the chill shock as it hit cleared his vision a little. He was drenched in seconds, the raindrops hammering against his bare skin as the wind swirled behind them, the downpour so heavy he could barely see a few feet in any direction. But although the car stood nearby, offering immediate refuge, his mind seemed unable to accept it as a viable course of action.
Why was this happening to him? 'It's not fair!' his inner child cried out again, hot tears welling up to be brushed angrily away, and a sob catching in his throat. And with it, as he held his breath to force it back down, came an unexpected yet totally familiar sensation he almost forgotten. He looked down to see, as he'd known he would, the signature of his massed self and he clung gratefully to the fact that somehow this part of who he was hadn't been entirely lost to him, even if what it had led him to seemed to be.
But crawling up from the recesses of his mind, he heard again the words the older man had spoken to him. "Do you know *what* you are?" The question that had provoked his panic-struck quest for freedom. And the words once again struck terror through him, forcing any rational thought from his mind as the pain expanded again to fill all available space and sending him stumbling away down the road, unaware of where he was going but just knowing he had to get away.
**
"Brennan? Shalimar? Where are you?" Adam's voice, sounding pissed as Brennan had known he'd be when he found they weren't at their post. He raised an eyebrow at his companion and nodded towards the in-car camera, but she shook her head, not wanting to have to actually face Adam's displeasure.
"We're... er... just taking a drive," she said casually.
There was a brief pause, then, "Of course you are. And you wouldn't be anywhere near Southmore Ridge, I don't suppose." The sarcasm couldn't totally disguise the undercurrents of irritation that she didn't think were completely aimed at them but she kept quiet, thinking now was not really the best time to try and find out for sure. "I told you to keep track of him from here!" Adam continued forcefully. "We don't know how he'll react to your presence there – it could spark off another episode and we might lose him irretrievably."
"Well, you know, Shalimar kinda felt it would be better to stay a bit closer to him, so we can get to him quicker when the time comes," Brennan offered, ignoring the glare she threw him for dropping her in it. "And now we're here, I'm inclined to agree. There's a big storm hitting this area right now, Adam, and Jesse is out there in it somewhere. We passed the car a few miles back, but his signal puts him just up ahead– which means he's still running. And unless someone left a change of clothes in the Beamer, he isn't going to be enjoying this at all." He peered gloomily out through the rain battering against the windscreen.
"Are you any nearer to working out why this has happened?" Shalimar asked anxiously. "Or more to the point, how to put it right?"
There was another pause.
"Not yet. Emma and I are still... discussing the matter."
"What's to discuss?" Shalimar said, heatedly. "If she did something to him, she undoes it. End of story!"
"It may not as be straightforward as that." Adam was obviously being careful with what he said, and Brennan had to wonder if Emma was there with him.
"Well, you'd better get it straight pretty quick," Shalimar almost growled, "'cos I think we've just been spotted!" She pointed to the locator signal on the display built into the dashboard, angry at herself for allowing their conversation to distract her from it. "Look, we've gone past him somehow."
"Damn!" The curse came both from Brennan as he looked ahead for somewhere to turn round, and over the com system from Sanctuary.
"Maybe you should just find him and bring him in now," Adam continued after a moment, a little distractedly.
The feral's hissed, "Yes!" merged with Brennan's, "Might not be all that easy," as he bounced the car up and down both grass verges to get it facing the other way. "I don't think he'll come without a fight, and I'm not gonna be able to zap him in these conditions if he doesn't want to play nice."
"Do what you can," Adam responded hurriedly. "I'm going to talk to Emma again – hopefully by the time you get him here, we'll have come up with a plan for helping him."
A sentiment that was most definitely shared by all concerned.
****
A cold breeze kicked up from somewhere, riffling across the back of his neck and down his arms and sending a shiver through him that roused him from the trance-like state he'd somehow drifted into. OK, time to move – he couldn't sit there all day, could he?
He swung his legs out of the car and slid to the ground, the harsh contact of sharp gravel on bare skin dragging his gaze down to assess his current situation. He realised with dismay that he was dressed only in a black tank t-shirt and sweatpants – no shoes, a fact that he couldn't remember registering at any point during his headlong rush for freedom. It sure did now, though, making his progress to the back of the car to check out the trunk's contents less than pleasant. And it was a wasted journey anyway – it yielded nothing more than the expected spare tire and jack, and a half empty bottle of water. No gas can, no clothing, no footwear, none of the things on his wish-list – how unreasonable was that!
He closed the lid again, resting both hands on it and letting his head fall forward as he tried to prevent what felt alarmingly like hysteria taking a grip. This was just great! Miles from anywhere, more suitably dressed for a dojo work out than a cross-country hike, running from something he didn't understand and with no idea where he was running to. Good work, Jesse – real good work!
With an effort he straightened and looked around. A distant rumbling drew his attention to the towering thunderclouds, spitting occasional streaks of fire as the impending storm grew in force, and he could feel the approaching rain in the soft caress of the fine veil of moisture riding the wind that was starting to toss the branches of the trees.
Indecision tore at him; should he stay and avail himself of the shelter offered by the car? Or go off in search of help? Dressed as he was, it should have been a no-brainer – he wasn't going to get far with no shoes, with nothing to protect him from the weather and the falling temperatures as the afternoon drew towards evening.
But there was something just below the surface of his mind screaming at him that he needed to keep moving, that sitting here waiting for... whatever he knew was after him to just catch up would be far worse than whatever the elements could throw at him.
'But where can I go?' wailed the child in him. He suddenly felt very small and very, very alone, dwarfed by the natural immensity of his surroundings and the apparent vastness of the dilemma that faced him. But the child answered its own question. 'Home. I want to go home.' Simple. He should be able to remember where home was, shouldn't he? And not the home of his childhood, a place he knew he no longer wanted to be. No, some place he belonged now, where he'd be safe. But when he dug into that part of his mind where that information should live, it seemed empty, a void he could find no clues in, nothing that even began to identify where that place might be.
Something told him this wasn't the way it should be, that there had to be more to his existence than that which he could find in his memories. It was as if he was only half a person, as if that which made him whole had been taken from him somehow. But the more he searched for something, anything to tell him what – no, who he'd lost, the more his head ached until he couldn't even see straight, let alone think.
Unnoticed, a silver curtain of rain had moved towards him across the valley beyond, and the chill shock as it hit cleared his vision a little. He was drenched in seconds, the raindrops hammering against his bare skin as the wind swirled behind them, the downpour so heavy he could barely see a few feet in any direction. But although the car stood nearby, offering immediate refuge, his mind seemed unable to accept it as a viable course of action.
Why was this happening to him? 'It's not fair!' his inner child cried out again, hot tears welling up to be brushed angrily away, and a sob catching in his throat. And with it, as he held his breath to force it back down, came an unexpected yet totally familiar sensation he almost forgotten. He looked down to see, as he'd known he would, the signature of his massed self and he clung gratefully to the fact that somehow this part of who he was hadn't been entirely lost to him, even if what it had led him to seemed to be.
But crawling up from the recesses of his mind, he heard again the words the older man had spoken to him. "Do you know *what* you are?" The question that had provoked his panic-struck quest for freedom. And the words once again struck terror through him, forcing any rational thought from his mind as the pain expanded again to fill all available space and sending him stumbling away down the road, unaware of where he was going but just knowing he had to get away.
**
"Brennan? Shalimar? Where are you?" Adam's voice, sounding pissed as Brennan had known he'd be when he found they weren't at their post. He raised an eyebrow at his companion and nodded towards the in-car camera, but she shook her head, not wanting to have to actually face Adam's displeasure.
"We're... er... just taking a drive," she said casually.
There was a brief pause, then, "Of course you are. And you wouldn't be anywhere near Southmore Ridge, I don't suppose." The sarcasm couldn't totally disguise the undercurrents of irritation that she didn't think were completely aimed at them but she kept quiet, thinking now was not really the best time to try and find out for sure. "I told you to keep track of him from here!" Adam continued forcefully. "We don't know how he'll react to your presence there – it could spark off another episode and we might lose him irretrievably."
"Well, you know, Shalimar kinda felt it would be better to stay a bit closer to him, so we can get to him quicker when the time comes," Brennan offered, ignoring the glare she threw him for dropping her in it. "And now we're here, I'm inclined to agree. There's a big storm hitting this area right now, Adam, and Jesse is out there in it somewhere. We passed the car a few miles back, but his signal puts him just up ahead– which means he's still running. And unless someone left a change of clothes in the Beamer, he isn't going to be enjoying this at all." He peered gloomily out through the rain battering against the windscreen.
"Are you any nearer to working out why this has happened?" Shalimar asked anxiously. "Or more to the point, how to put it right?"
There was another pause.
"Not yet. Emma and I are still... discussing the matter."
"What's to discuss?" Shalimar said, heatedly. "If she did something to him, she undoes it. End of story!"
"It may not as be straightforward as that." Adam was obviously being careful with what he said, and Brennan had to wonder if Emma was there with him.
"Well, you'd better get it straight pretty quick," Shalimar almost growled, "'cos I think we've just been spotted!" She pointed to the locator signal on the display built into the dashboard, angry at herself for allowing their conversation to distract her from it. "Look, we've gone past him somehow."
"Damn!" The curse came both from Brennan as he looked ahead for somewhere to turn round, and over the com system from Sanctuary.
"Maybe you should just find him and bring him in now," Adam continued after a moment, a little distractedly.
The feral's hissed, "Yes!" merged with Brennan's, "Might not be all that easy," as he bounced the car up and down both grass verges to get it facing the other way. "I don't think he'll come without a fight, and I'm not gonna be able to zap him in these conditions if he doesn't want to play nice."
"Do what you can," Adam responded hurriedly. "I'm going to talk to Emma again – hopefully by the time you get him here, we'll have come up with a plan for helping him."
A sentiment that was most definitely shared by all concerned.
****