Chapter 18
Captives
San Francisco – May 23rd
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Water droplets echoed in Buffy's ears. Just below the audible spectrum, she could feel the vibration of heavy machinery. It had been nearly twenty minutes since she had allowed herself to be trussed up and carried off. Her captors had followed too many twists and turns for her to keep track of. She had to face the fact that she was lost. She hoped that Xander had been carried along with her, but she couldn't make any moves until she knew for sure.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The leaking water had begun to annoy her. She could just about hear a conversation going on a little ways off, but the incessant dripping prevented her from really concentrating on it. She wondered where she could be. The only thing she knew for sure about the trip was that they had gone down. Way down.
She could tell by the way they had carried her that it had been a steady progression deep under the city. Maybe twenty or so flights of stairs had been traversed to get them here. That would be quite a distance to go back up while being pursued by hordes of demons. She'd been in worse positions; she'd get through this one.
The echoes of dripping water were replaced by footsteps coming towards her. Several pairs by the sounds of it. Buffy checked the tension on her restraints. She could break them easily enough. Obviously, they didn't know who she was. The burlap bag was pulled off of her suddenly, and three pairs of eyes glared down at her.
It was dark, except for a few pools of light scattered about. Having been in complete darkness, Buffy's eyes were well adjusted to the environs. She could see the three shapes standing above her; at least one of them had a knife. She turned her head to see Xander a few yards from her in a similar position. She quickly calculated that she could take her guards, but Xander would be dead before she could reach him. She had to wait some more.
Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw Ray. He was talking excitedly with another demon, attempting to give him the file folder she had found. The other kept pushing it away, but finally hung his head in resignation. Something Ray had said seemed to end the argument. He took the folder and then headed towards the others.
She took a moment to really look at them, now. They were basically human sized, with blue-green skin and yellow eyes. Their skin was covered in small spikes. They were dressed in dirty clothes, castoffs most likely. They seemed to look among themselves quite a bit. Buffy realized it was fear. They were afraid of her, and they didn't even know she was the Slayer.
The one who had been talking to Ray approached them. "Get'em up," he said. "Looks like we're having a pair of guests for awhile." Buffy was roughly hauled to her feet.
"Hey, watch the outfit," she snapped. To her shock, one of them muttered an apology. The ropes on her feet were removed, and she was told to follow. And so they walked further into the blackness.
It was, she realized, some kind of utility. There were pipes and tunnels leading all through it. Water dripped and pooled in some areas. But the tag of 'SFMS' was stenciled on all the equipment. San Francisco Municipal Services she realized. They walked another quarter mile, and then down another flight of stairs. Those stairs led to a den, or perhaps 'warren' would be a better word, of demons.
Old sheets, bits of cloth or sometimes even plastic were hung up to define dwelling spaces. People mingled back and forth, all of them watching her and Xander with a mix of suspicion and outright fear. There were males and females present. And, she realized, offspring. She caught glimpses of children running about ahead, only to be herded into one of the enclosures before Buffy and Xander got there. She heard giggles coming from these. Not the cruel chuckles of demons who live to torture and devour humans, but the genuine giggles of children.
As she looked about, she began to notice a space of ages in the populace as well. There were young and old and ancient. There were many who appeared feeble; many looked ill. All about there was an air of poverty.
They navigated the makeshift lanes between the tent-like dwellings under the prodding of their captors until coming to a large air vent running horizontally from the wall. The vent was made of concrete and was a circle at least ten feet in diameter. The shaft of the vent ran ten feet from where they were standing to a large fan. The blades of the fan were running slowly, but Buffy knew that the gleaming steel could cut even her to ribbons if she tried to go out that way. Xander was pushed in first, and then Buffy after. Across the entrance the demons placed a metal grating, and locked it in place. Most of their captors walked off, but two remained to stand guard.
Buffy and Xander sat down on the curved concrete surface of the tunnel. They looked about cautiously, but determined that there was no one about to hear them talk.
"What do you make of it?" Xander asked quietly.
"Weird," Buffy said. "I mean, it's not what I would have expected from a hoard of demons." She looked about again, back through the grating at the makeshift city. "It's almost sad."
"There's no almost about it, Buff." Xander was strangely serious. "This is the sucks-o-rama of a life. These people … demons, whatever … they've got nothing. Nada. Zip. Zilch. The old first-time-playing-Zelda score." He shook his head. "I don't mean to sound out of line here, but I've seen places like this on the news. In Bosnia!" He turned to her, seriousness etched on his brow. "Buffy, this doesn't make us look like the good guys, you know."
"I know," she said, and meant it. "I need to think," she said absently.
"Sure thing," Xander said, and moved himself further down the tunnel. "Just let me know when you decide what we're going to do, okay?" He turned away, not expecting a reply.
Buffy saw the same things Xander saw. The difference was that Xander felt those things as well. He was deeply emotional, even empathetic. That's why he cultivated such a continual, sarcastic wit. It kept the world at bay so that he wasn't overwhelmed by it. But Buffy knew of his loyalty to her. She knew of his black-and-white view of the world. There was right and there was wrong for Xander; good and evil. That's why he had such a hard time with Spike. Spike was evil; for Xander, that was enough.
So, if Xander in his black-and-white view of the world should take pity on these demons, Buffy knew that she seriously needed to rethink things. It was possible that the sympathy was misplaced. These demons may be just as willing to kill her as look at her. They may just decide to go ahead and roast her and Xander for dinner. From the looks of things, the two of them might be the most nutritious thing this group had seen in months. They could be vicious and evil, but somehow Buffy didn't think so.
Then she realized that Xander only saw with human eyes. She was seeing the truth of things. So maybe if Xander saw what she saw, he'd change his mind and all of this would make sense again. Good idea, she thought to herself, and reached down to take out the Amulet of Arinoth to loan to Xander. That's when she remembered that it was still in Congressman Greene's office.
"Xander," she said quietly.
"Yeah Buff," he replied.
"Xander, I don't have the amulet anymore," she said quietly. "It's still in the congressman's office." She felt a chill go down her spine.
"Okay, one more thing to add to the to do list. We'll put that one right after break out, grab the file, and oh yea, figure out what the hell is going on." Xander, at least, was finding his own personality returning.
Buffy, on the other hand, was finding herself drawn more and more into the question of what she was seeing. If she had the amulet, would she see anything different? She didn't think so. That simply gave rise to more questions. Perhaps these demons weren't so, well, demonic. If that was the case, the congressman was probably deceiving them. Maybe they were just pawns in his game. Poor, starving, desperate pawns.
Buffy was pulled from her thoughts by the opening of the grate. A demon entered their tunnel, a long knife in his hand. Buffy stood up to face him. She turned her body into a combat stance, or at least the best facsimile of one she could muster with her hands tied behind her back.
The demon, though, held up his hand. "I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "My name is Torry. I'm Ray's brother."
"What's with the knife, then?" Buffy asked, keeping herself positioned to parry any attack he might spring.
"Well, I thought you might be more comfortable if I removed the ropes around your wrists," the demon replied calmly.
"Why would you do that?" Buffy asked suspiciously.
"For two reasons. First, because I really don't like seeing people tied up," he shrugged a little self-consciously at the admission. "I don't think any sentient creature should have to go through that if we can avoid it. Second, because you're going to promise me that you won't try to escape until we get this thing figured out." He smiled.
"Why would we do that?" Buffy asked again.
"Because it's the only way to get me to cut you loose. That's why." The demon shrugged again, content to let Buffy think it over.
Buffy watched the demon for a long time, gauging his honesty. "Twenty-four hours," she said. "I'll give you twenty-four hours, and then I'm free to try and escape."
"Deal," he said, and swiftly cut through the ropes binding her hands. "Him, too?" the demon asked.
"Yeah," Buffy replied. "He'll abide by it."
With that, Torry cut Xander's bonds as well. Xander's wrists were still encircled by the metal police cuffs, although the chain between them had been broken by Buffy. "Anything you can do about these?" Xander asked, holding up his wrists.
"Possibly," Torry said, and then turned to look at Buffy. "Why don't I show you around. We may be able to find something to eat, and I'd like to find out more about you."
He began to walk out of the tunnel, so Buffy and Xander had no choice but to follow. He led them back along one of the tent lanes towards an area in back. The whole time they walked, he pointed and talked like a tour guide.
"Only a handful of human's have ever seen this," he said, indicating the city as a whole. "We settled here in '98 after getting the contract to maintain the underground equipment of the municipal service. It's not much money for the work that has to be done, and only those of us born with the ability to mimic humans are officially on the payroll. But everyone here pitches in, and we all share in the profits. It's usually enough to buy food enough for everyone along with some of our other sources."
He led them into a large common area where food was being served. It was, to Buffy's surprise, normal food, if a little bland. There were large pans of pasta in steamer trays, and everyone was lined up cafeteria style. At one end were some rolls, which turned out to be day old. Torry handed them trays and they got in line with the rest of them. Buffy inquired as to the recipe for the red sauce, expecting blood or brain to be at least one of the ingredients. Ragu, she was informed simply. And worms, Torry added. Buffy and Xander decided to skip the sauce.
So, sitting and talking over plates of spaghetti and day old bread, Torry continued his story. "We're what you might call refugees. You call us demons, but that simply means that we're not from this dimension. And to be completely honest, no, we're not. But that doesn't make us bloodthirsty villains, either. We'd prefer to live in harmony with humans, if we could arrange it. That's not very likely, though."
"If it's not very likely, why come here?" Buffy asked.
"Well, a lot of folks would say 'stupidity.' Frankly, I'm inclined to agree with them. But the long and the short of it is that we didn't intend to come here, per se. We just needed to be not there." Torry paused a moment to gauge their reactions. "Our home dimension was overrun by demons of a violent and brutal nature. They killed many of us; they enslaved even more of us. When it became apparent that all was lost, those of us that could run, ran. We ran to the hills, to the mythical Gates of the Gods. With the right spells and incantations, we were able to open a portal out of that dimension to someplace else.
"The only problem was, we didn't know enough to be able to specify where that someplace else was. We just needed to get anyplace else. So we ended up here." He shrugged again. It was, apparently, the most utilitarian human gesture he knew.
"Sounds like you could've used a better travel agent," Xander commented.
"You ain't kidding," Torry replied. "We were in just such a rush, what with being hunted down and systematically exterminated and all, that we took what we could get. And, just to be sure, we blew up the portal behind us. So, we ended up here, and have had to make our way ever since."
As Torry talked, Xander felt someone watching him. He looked over to his side, to see a disheveled little demon with long hair and stained frock staring at him. She picked up an old newspaper and held it in front of her face, but Xander could hear giggling from behind it. Cautiously, he took one finger and drew down the paper until he could see her eyes.
"Peek-a-boo," Xander said, and the little demon girl giggled some more. Xander even smiled a bit.
"Would you like to see my dolly?" the little girl asked.
"Sure," Xander said, and was promptly presented with a ragged Barbie doll. It was well worn, with big tufts of hair missing. One foot was missing. It had obviously been picked out of the trash. Subsequently, it had been painted blue and had small thorns glued to its face so that it more greatly resembled the owner.
"My sister said she was ugly, but I fixed her, see?" the little girl chattered on. "I made her skin the right color and added her holbos," she pointed to the thorns on the face. "Now she's beautiful!" The girl looked up at him with wide eyes. "Don't you think she's beautiful now?"
Xander sought for words for only a moment. "Not as beautiful as you are," he said to the little girl, and she smiled. Xander then turned his attention back to Buffy and Torry.
"And now here we are, a refugee colony reduced to a state of abject poverty. Hunted by the demons that have taken over our home, and by humans as well. There's been very few humans we have learned to trust. Congressman Greene is one of them. But then we find you two snooping around in his office, which wasn't so bad. But the particular file you had – well, that's a whole new ballgame.
"So, I'm going to ask you this once, and only once. Who are you working for? Who hired you to help destroy us?"
* * *
Xander and Buffy lay in the concrete tunnel, trying to get comfortable. It was going to be awhile before they could attempt an escape. The challenge Torry had laid down to them had come as a shock. They could scarcely form words, let alone an explanation. Tongue-tied, they grappled with the question for a few minutes.
Then Buffy tried the truth. There was nothing much that could go any more wrong, now was there? So she began explaining. In actuality, she didn't get through more than a handful of words before Torry got up from the table and had them escorted back here, to their makeshift holding cell. Reflecting on it, Buffy thought that perhaps, We think Congressman Greene is an evil, body-stealing demon who's using you and trying to kill me was not the best way to begin the conversation.
And so they had ended up back here, watching the hours crawl by to the steady drip, drip, drip of the water, waiting for an opportunity to try and escape. It would be morning soon, when the demons mostly went to sleep. Perhaps then.
