"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh."  Sound assaults my ears, pummeling my brain, and battering at the space behind my eyes.  The raspy clamor of my own inhalations was enough to bring tears to my eyes.   Movement seems millions of miles away, but I wasn't trained to give up in situations like these.

  Focusing with single-minded purpose on my hands, I imagined a hot beam of light breaking through the ice in my veins.  After three or four attempts, I was rewarded by the dismal thudding sound of heavy chains clinking.  Whoever had taken me prisoner apparently didn't plan on letting me go without a fight. 

What had happened to me?  I remembered meeting with Senator Burnhart, the near-kiss with Max, and then it became somewhat fuzzy.  I had a muddled impression of lots of bright lights and sirens, the police maybe?  Yes, the police had cornered us and started shouting something about me killing people and ripping their teeth out.  The same business with my good old brother Ben, only I thought that we'd cleared that little issue up with the police the last time it had happened.

 Somehow the scenario didn't fit.  The police knew that Ben was dead and that I was just an unfortunate twin.  They shouldn't still be searching for the killer.  A hideous foreboding chilled my already frozen body.  Brutal and corrupt as the Seattle PD had become; they didn't usually go around drugging prisoners. 

That meant one of two not very pleasant things.  Either the police had figured out what I was, or the whole thing had been an elaborate sham of the Familiars to get me to surrender myself without too much of a fight.  I hoped to god that it was the former situation, but somehow the latter was coming out as the more likely of the two choices.

 A new found panic seized me, pumping me full of adrenaline.  Clutching the inbred core of my bravery I snapped open my eyelids.  For a few moments sheer, blind panic enslaved my senses.  The room surrounding me was a singular shade of dull, metallic grey. 

I forced myself to breathe, and slowly opened my eyes again for a better look.  There wasn't any way that I could be back in the Grey.  No, while my prison was indeed painted in a certain, horrendously familiar shade, it was a real room with real dimensions.  I soak in the minute details of the place.  Even the crude, bumps in the cinderblock walls are comforting in their tangibility. 

Scanning more deeply, I see the imbedded outline of a door on the opposite wall.  Not useful as an escape route, even at full strength I would never be able to break the three inch thick manacles around my wrists, and the chains attached to them appear to be imbedded into the concrete of the walls.  Venting my growing frustration I bang my shackled wrists against the walls. 

"Good morning sunshine."  The voice seems to materialize out of thin air, though common sense dictates that there must be an intercom hidden somewhere.  "Or should I say killer."  It is a woman's voice, and an incredibly seductive one at that.  She chuckles at her own words in a husky contralto.

"So, I'm guessing that this isn't the police station."  My feeble attempts at wit just increase her laughter.  "Any chance of getting a decent cheeseburger in this place?"  May as well try to score some food out of the deal.  I haven't eaten since yesterday morning, even assuming that I wasn't unconscious for more than one night.

"Such a funny boy.  If I hadn't had a little chat with my new friend, I'd think that you weren't the right person."  I'm beginning to wonder if the woman isn't a little off her rocker, there's a certain edge to her voice that doesn't sound quite balanced.  "It's a shame really, we could have had so much more fun as you were."

As I was?  Is she confusing me with Ben, or was she someone that I'd met as my alter-ego, as 494?  "Where am I?"  It seemed like the next logical question for a prisoner to ask.  She giggles again, and I can distinctly detect a touch of madness in the deep tones.

"Now that would be telling Tiger.  And if I told, then it wouldn't be a secret anymore.  No, your just going to sit tight like a good little canary, I've still got me a kitty cat to catch.  Then I'll be queen, won't that be nice?  They will all fall at my feet, and I will keep you as my pet."  Well, no point in wondering about her sanity, cats and canaries my ass.  Then it struck me.  If she knew me, then she had the inside dope on the transgenic resistance.  I hadn't been the only one to compare Max to a cat.  I yelped as I jerked futilely on the chains and my knuckles banged forcibly against the cement walls.  Cats and canaries, I was bait and sure as Max's martyr complex, she would come for me.

"I'll get out of here.  If you're a familiar, then you know what I am.  You know that I can take whatever you want to dish out, so you might as well give up now."  Her mocking laughter trickles to a stop and I hear a sharp hiss of breath over the intercom.

"My, my the tiger has claws, but he should learn to keep his tongue.  She will come for you, and I will have her.  I'll have you and your little bitch, I'll have my people and the land will tremble.  Just remember, transgenic or not you can still bleed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I ran so fast my body blurred like water on a painted canvas.  Had to get back to TC, had to get help, had to get him back.  Needed to have him back.  Strangled sobs cut through me.  Twenty four hours ago I'd cut my ties with Logan and become a free woman.  Twelve minutes ago the man that I loved was ripped out of my arms by a stupid twist of fate.

So harsh was my anger that I forwent the secret entrance to the city, instead vaulting like the cat I was over the heads of the protestors and the edge of the wall.  Brushing off the hands of my perimeter guards, I continued to run like a woman possessed.  Fear preyed on the edges of my mind.  I'd seen her, I'd seen the dark woman from my dreams.  If she had been involved in Alec's arrest then he was in deep shit.

Barely breathing hard, I flung myself through the door to command central.  The looks on their faces brought me up short.  All of the anger and adrenaline that had kept me going through my flight ebbed away.  Biggs shot forward and caught me just as my knees buckled.  "I'm so sorry Max."

"Familiars?"  My voice was surprisingly controlled, as though another person were speaking my lines.

"We think so."

"Is he still alive?"

"Oh yes.  He's strong Max, he can take this."

"He can still bleed."

"They sent us a message over a cable hack about twenty minutes ago."

"They want me in return."  No one speaks.  No one needs to.