Hey, thanks for the reviews!
miatachick: Thank you for the support! Unfortunately, the link you gave me didn't work!
shorty32539: Thanks! I'm glad you like it! And thank you for the info on ZULU. It confused me a bit when I'd watch the show and there would be a scene set at, like, 2100 ZULU, and it would still be light out. Thank you so much for clearin' this up for me!!!!
Cathy Fisher: I'm glad you came back for more! Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!! :D
Corinne: Thank you very much for coming back! And thanky for the comment!
CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: Thanks about the ZULU! I'd glad I was told now before I messed it up in the future! And thank you for your support!!!
jagchick105: Thank you so much for coming back for more!!! It means a lot!! Thanks about the ZULU thing, some reviewers have helped me out!
Navy Unspeakable: Wow, you seem to know a lot about this stuff! Are you in the navy, marines, or have parents in the armed forces? I didn't know that about the non-commissioned officer thing. Thanks for letting me know! The link you gave me didn't work though, but that's okay, cause I've used search engines to find info about ranks. Thanks again for reviewing!
flyboyfan: Thank you for all the info! And I'm glad you came back for more! I didn't know much on the ZULU thing so this helps a lot! Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CAUTION: The history of Private Arial Thomas has rape-relations.
(A/N) I'm bumpin' Lance Corporal Stephens' rank up (okay, *way* up) to First Lieutenant (is equivalent to a Lieutenant Junior Grade in the Navy). I did this 'cause I decided to make him the leader of the platoon and Lance Corporal seemed a little. . .low, to say the least.
Words in between the asterisk (*) are supposed to be italicized.
~sanctus
Chapter 3: Unpredictable
1535 ZULU Quantico Marine Corps Base Quantico, Virginia
Harm held a grim expression as he watched Private Saunders leave. Webb stared at wall, nothing particularly capturing his attention, but it probably kept his mind off the newfound possibilities. Instead of avoiding the thought of the accusation, Harm focused all his attention on it. Did a jealous Marine actually commit such a crime against one of his own? Whatever happened to semper-fi? Harm shouldn't have found this surprising though. He'd seen too many cases involving traitorous officers. Why was he shaken by this? The mere thought of the possibility that Thomas had been betrayed by one of her own made his blood curdle.
"Doesn't seem right, does it?" Webb commented solemnly.
Harm didn't have to reply.
A knock on the door shook him back to reality. "Enter."
The door opened swiftly and the Marine stepped in at attention. He was tall, over six feet, with a strong jaw which was clenched tightly. His steely eyes stared ahead in that discipline-of-a-Marine way. He was dressed in the usual camouflage garb with his hat held stiffly at his side. His expression was stony, but Harm detected a slight quiver in his eyes.
"First Lieutenant Stephens reporting as ordered, sir!" He bellowed, standing perfectly at attention.
"At ease, Lieutenant." Harm ordered. The Marine did as he was told and relaxed his shoulders slightly, his feet a few inches apart, and drew his hands behind his back.
"Sit down, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir." Stephens sat rigidly in the chair opposite of the desk Harm sat at.
Harm chose to enter the cross-examination casually. Regardless of your rank, breaking down a Marine was similar to trying to put a hole into a cement wall with your fist. Might as well start out with ease.
"How are you this morning, Lieutenant?" Harm said lightly.
Not a muscle moved in his face to reflect any kind of expression. "Fine, sir!" Stephens shouted again.
Harm cringed. There was nothing like a bellowing Marine in close quarters. "Lower the volume a bit, Lieutenant."
Stephens blinked, but relaxed slightly. A good sign.
"Stephens, you were the leader of the platoon, correct?"
Still no expression. "Aye, sir." And no further information.
"How long have you been in charge of the training missions?"
"Eight months, sir."
"Has it been going well," Harm said, "Besides the incident with Private Thomas?" He added nonchalantly.
Stephens blinked again and momentarily shifted his gaze to the commander, but quickly returned it to the white wall. "I have never seen a more sorry bunch of recruits in my entire existence, sir." Stephens said matter-of- factly.
Harm flashed a wry smile. "Well, considering the way I've heard officers describe their platoon in past, that's more of a compliment."
Stephens' eyebrows drew in a tad, but rapidly realigned.
"How long has Thomas been in your platoon?"
The smallest of a twitch in his eyes at the mention of Thomas's name.
"Since I took command, sir." Stephens said after a moments pause.
"Others have said she was a good Marine, Lieutenant. What's your opinion on her performance?" Harm said innocently.
This time, Stephens did look the commander right in the eye. "There is no such thing as a 'good' Marine, sir---only a perfect one. That's how we're trained."
A small snicker from Webb at the back of the room. Harm altered his gaze to the operative. Webb had always been smug when it came to Marine principles. Stephens didn't seem to notice Webb's affront.
"Thanks for the tip, Lieutenant. Why don't you just answer my second question then."
Stephens took in a shallow breath and leaned an elbow on the armrest. "My opinion is just that, Commander---an opinion. Does it really take precedence?"
The Marine was more opinionated than he thought. "What's wrong with just answering the question, Lieutenant?"
Stephens straightened in his chair, recognizing an order when he heard one. "Nothing, sir." Stephens thought out his answer for a moment. "Mind you, she wasn't a perfect Marine, but she was striving for it. It's---it's a shame, that she went through what she did."
Harm nodded in concurrence. "What was your relationship with Private Thomas?"
Stephens pursed his lips and let his eyes wander around the room. "Relationship?"
Harm glanced down at the file. "Well, you did say Thomas had been in your platoon since you first took command nearly a year ago. You must have established some kind of relationship with her."
Stephens nodded, biting his lip. "One of my recruits mentioned my--- discrepancies with Thomas, didn't they, sir?"
Harm tried not to look surprised. He didn't think Stephens would come right out with it. "Would you care to elaborate, Lieutenant?" Harm said coolly.
Stephens let a chuckle escape. "Thomas is competitive, sir. As am I. We'd clash sometimes."
"Despite your rank?"
Stephens shrugged. "She followed orders, sir. Discipline was not a problem. But she wasn't afraid to compete."
"Well, the others in your platoon seemed to take it seriously." Harm pointed out.
Stephens rolled his eyes. "Well, they take it the wrong way, sir. Sure, Thomas and I have pushed the limits a little, but it never got to the point where I would hurt her."
Harm shot his eyes to the Marine. "Who suggested you would ever hurt her?"
The Lieutenant's smile diminished.
***
1540 ZULU Quantico Public Library Quantico, Virginia
Mac scribbled the words down on a loose piece of paper. She read it over one more time making sure she got it right, and then stuffed it in her pocket. Grabbing her briefcase, she stormed out of the library, receiving a rebuke from an old librarian, and walked swiftly to her car towards the back of the parking lot. Mac fumbled with her keys for a moment before finding the right one and jammed it into the lock. That's when she felt that familiar sensation that she was being watched. Mac let her eyes dart back and forth. Two rows away were a mother and her two children. Behind them was an old man with a cigar. A few cars away from Mac was a kid, a student probably, balancing a tall stack of books in his hands as he inched his way his Oldsmobile Cutlass. Were they the only ones in the parking lot? Couldn't be.
Mac calmly unlocked the driver's side door, slipping her briefcase onto the passenger seat. She then casually glanced behind her to lock gazes with a massive German shepherd, not five feet away. The dog's eyes seemed to glow with fire, and foam dripped from his mouth, as every breath it exhaled came out as a growl. The student with the books heard it and he turned his head to see where the origin of the noise was from. His eyes widened in that deer-in-the-headlights kind of way. Mac tied to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. The rabid animal was but a few feet from her and she didn't even have a leg in the car. She knew what would happen if she moved.
The mother with her children had just noticed the dog and she hurried her children into their car. She then took out her cell phone, obviously dialing 911. The old man with the cigar didn't seem to notice anything going on.
Knowing full well that she could be torn to pieces, Mac immediately turned her eyes away from the dog's. First rule in dealing with a rabid canine--- don't stare into its eyes. The student had gone frozen long ago and as he peeked over his stack of books, his eyes darted from Mac to the dog. He noticed Mac's uniform and he seemed to think that she would know what to do.
"What do I do?" He asked softly, his voice shaking.
Mac clenched her fists. "Don't move." She said, emphasizing both words.
The kid nodded. "Right." He did this well. Good. Mac didn't need to deal with a frantic civilian. The mother gave her a reassuring look that said the police were on the way. Now, Mac just had to stay still, and wait to see what the dog would do.
Short hair stood up at the shepherd's neck and its snout quivered as deep growls erupted from its throat. It bore its teeth just to make Mac even more uneasy. Mac then noticed that it had a collar. Where the hell was its owner? The dog then crouched and took a few steps closer. Mac felt her chest tighten as the dog taunted her. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she noticed a figure standing amongst the trees in a woody area just outside the parking lot. She couldn't make out any features, but he stood there, with his hands on hips. Mac suddenly got the sense that this was his dog. She was right. The man made a whistle with fluctuating notes. The dog cocked an ear in the man's direction, and it reared its haunches, preparing to attack. Mac held her breath.
Shrill sirens erupted in the distance. The dog's ears went flat to his head at the sound and it suddenly cowered back. Mac blinked in surprise. A piercing whistle shot through the air, and the German shepherd tore off in the direction of the man. This was Mac's cue---she ran after the dog. When the man saw her coming, he whistled again and the dog sprinted even faster. The man also ran deep into the woods, the dog close at his heels. While this went on, the police and an ambulance had pulled into the parking lot. Several officers stepped out of their cars adorned with protective wear. Mac had stopped running when she got to the edge of the woods; her feet were burning from the high heels she wore. A cop jogged up to her and gave her a once over.
"You all right, ma'am? We got a call there was a rabid dog."
Mac nodded at the woods, the man and his dog long gone. "Some guy, he was in there. The dog belonged to him. He ordered it to attack me."
The cop peered into the woods. "All right, we'll send a team in. You sure you're all right?"
Mac licked her parched lips and waited for her breathing to become normal again. "I'm fine. Excuse me, I need to make a call."
***
Webb mentally stored the new information. So First Lieutenant Stephens was their suspect. There was certainly motive, but Webb didn't see Stephens as the kind who would betray one of his own. He was completely devoted to the Corps. Rabb seemed convinced, but not entirely. To pull off Thomas's kidnapping, Stephens would've had to have strong contact with Chechen military. Or at least have enough connection to make a business deal. Webb would check records and see if the Chechen military had suddenly come upon a large sum of pocket money. In the meantime, efforts would be made to establish some kind of contact with Private Thomas. Her testimony would be priceless.
And where was Mac? She should have called Rabb at least fifteen minutes ago. And everyone knew how punctual the Colonel was. As if on cue, Harm's cell phone went off as he was putting files back into his briefcase. He answered it immediately and before he could even establish pleasantries, Mac was off. Webb could hear her voice faintly and it sounded like she didn't even take a breath. Apparently, the information she had must have been bad and worse because Rabb's expression deepened from a frown to plain concern. This peaking Webb's interest, he sauntered over to Rabb, a question mark clear on his features. Rabb listened to Mac go on. She'd stop to take a breath giving Rabb a chance to put a word in, but she'd interrupt him immediately.
"All---all right, Mac, just------are you okay?" On the other end, Mac's tone suggested annoyance. Webb could make a "Of course I'm okay!", "Oh--- okay, Mac, I'll meet you there. Yeah---yeah, ten minutes----we have information, too. Possibly a suspect," Harm added, giving a glance to Webb. Mac exploded with more questions. Harm closed his eyes in obvious frustration.
"Mac, I'll explain it at asylum. See you there." Harm snapped the cell phone closed and drew in a large breath. Webb stared at the commander blankly.
"Well, what'd she say?"
***
Mac stared at the phone for a moment, her mouth parted slightly in disbelief. He hung up on her! How could he tell her that he had a suspect and hang up on her?! Mac scoffed in disgust and tossed the phone to the passenger seat, deciding that she better concentrate more on driving.
***
"Leave me alone." She'd said it for the umpteenth time, yet they never listened.
*How can we?* They answered. Arial clamped her fists over her ears, though she knew they only existed in her head.
"Please go away!" She cried out, sobbing. Arial could feel them shaking their heads at her.
*We can never leave you. You need us!* So many voices all answering as one.
"You're killing me." She whimpered.
*They* are killing you. You need to be afraid of *them!* The voices replied, referring to the people dressed in white that stabbed her with little needles every day.
Arial nodded reluctantly. "I know. But there is someone new." She whispered. Arial could feel the anger welling inside of them. But there was something else she didn't recognize at first---fear. They feared these new people.
"Why are you afraid of them?" Arial asked.
They didn't answer at first. *They are outsiders. We cannot trust them, Arial.*
Arial narrowed her eyes and wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. "But I recognize them. I recognize *him*."
*No, you don't! They will hurt you! He will hurt us!* So much anger! And the overwhelming fear!
"They can help me." Arial realized. She ignored the protests as she figured this out more. "They are here to help me. He is here to help me." It was a revelation. For so long she trusted her voices. She was sure they kept her alive. But they were really just keeping her from getting better. She could hear them screaming at her to stop thinking such thoughts. For a moment, Arial considered letting go. This was done to her. She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them. She'd put so much faith in her voices. Now she would let go. One by one, she would ignore them. And one by one, they would disappear. Then, she would have her revenge. She would have her revenge on that man. He should have been there. He should have saved her. Now, who would save him?
***
TBC
***
Any suggestions? Comments?
Oh, and I have another request. I tried looking up some information on schizophrenia, (WebMD.com, that sort of thing) and I got some information, but nothing in-depth. Does anyone have any experience dealing with people with schizophrenia? I have a lot of medical info, but nothing about their *actual* behavior and everyday life of someone suffering from this disease. Any info you might offer would help greatly!
Thanks for reading!
~sanctus
miatachick: Thank you for the support! Unfortunately, the link you gave me didn't work!
shorty32539: Thanks! I'm glad you like it! And thank you for the info on ZULU. It confused me a bit when I'd watch the show and there would be a scene set at, like, 2100 ZULU, and it would still be light out. Thank you so much for clearin' this up for me!!!!
Cathy Fisher: I'm glad you came back for more! Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!! :D
Corinne: Thank you very much for coming back! And thanky for the comment!
CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur: Thanks about the ZULU! I'd glad I was told now before I messed it up in the future! And thank you for your support!!!
jagchick105: Thank you so much for coming back for more!!! It means a lot!! Thanks about the ZULU thing, some reviewers have helped me out!
Navy Unspeakable: Wow, you seem to know a lot about this stuff! Are you in the navy, marines, or have parents in the armed forces? I didn't know that about the non-commissioned officer thing. Thanks for letting me know! The link you gave me didn't work though, but that's okay, cause I've used search engines to find info about ranks. Thanks again for reviewing!
flyboyfan: Thank you for all the info! And I'm glad you came back for more! I didn't know much on the ZULU thing so this helps a lot! Thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CAUTION: The history of Private Arial Thomas has rape-relations.
(A/N) I'm bumpin' Lance Corporal Stephens' rank up (okay, *way* up) to First Lieutenant (is equivalent to a Lieutenant Junior Grade in the Navy). I did this 'cause I decided to make him the leader of the platoon and Lance Corporal seemed a little. . .low, to say the least.
Words in between the asterisk (*) are supposed to be italicized.
~sanctus
Chapter 3: Unpredictable
1535 ZULU Quantico Marine Corps Base Quantico, Virginia
Harm held a grim expression as he watched Private Saunders leave. Webb stared at wall, nothing particularly capturing his attention, but it probably kept his mind off the newfound possibilities. Instead of avoiding the thought of the accusation, Harm focused all his attention on it. Did a jealous Marine actually commit such a crime against one of his own? Whatever happened to semper-fi? Harm shouldn't have found this surprising though. He'd seen too many cases involving traitorous officers. Why was he shaken by this? The mere thought of the possibility that Thomas had been betrayed by one of her own made his blood curdle.
"Doesn't seem right, does it?" Webb commented solemnly.
Harm didn't have to reply.
A knock on the door shook him back to reality. "Enter."
The door opened swiftly and the Marine stepped in at attention. He was tall, over six feet, with a strong jaw which was clenched tightly. His steely eyes stared ahead in that discipline-of-a-Marine way. He was dressed in the usual camouflage garb with his hat held stiffly at his side. His expression was stony, but Harm detected a slight quiver in his eyes.
"First Lieutenant Stephens reporting as ordered, sir!" He bellowed, standing perfectly at attention.
"At ease, Lieutenant." Harm ordered. The Marine did as he was told and relaxed his shoulders slightly, his feet a few inches apart, and drew his hands behind his back.
"Sit down, Lieutenant."
"Aye, sir." Stephens sat rigidly in the chair opposite of the desk Harm sat at.
Harm chose to enter the cross-examination casually. Regardless of your rank, breaking down a Marine was similar to trying to put a hole into a cement wall with your fist. Might as well start out with ease.
"How are you this morning, Lieutenant?" Harm said lightly.
Not a muscle moved in his face to reflect any kind of expression. "Fine, sir!" Stephens shouted again.
Harm cringed. There was nothing like a bellowing Marine in close quarters. "Lower the volume a bit, Lieutenant."
Stephens blinked, but relaxed slightly. A good sign.
"Stephens, you were the leader of the platoon, correct?"
Still no expression. "Aye, sir." And no further information.
"How long have you been in charge of the training missions?"
"Eight months, sir."
"Has it been going well," Harm said, "Besides the incident with Private Thomas?" He added nonchalantly.
Stephens blinked again and momentarily shifted his gaze to the commander, but quickly returned it to the white wall. "I have never seen a more sorry bunch of recruits in my entire existence, sir." Stephens said matter-of- factly.
Harm flashed a wry smile. "Well, considering the way I've heard officers describe their platoon in past, that's more of a compliment."
Stephens' eyebrows drew in a tad, but rapidly realigned.
"How long has Thomas been in your platoon?"
The smallest of a twitch in his eyes at the mention of Thomas's name.
"Since I took command, sir." Stephens said after a moments pause.
"Others have said she was a good Marine, Lieutenant. What's your opinion on her performance?" Harm said innocently.
This time, Stephens did look the commander right in the eye. "There is no such thing as a 'good' Marine, sir---only a perfect one. That's how we're trained."
A small snicker from Webb at the back of the room. Harm altered his gaze to the operative. Webb had always been smug when it came to Marine principles. Stephens didn't seem to notice Webb's affront.
"Thanks for the tip, Lieutenant. Why don't you just answer my second question then."
Stephens took in a shallow breath and leaned an elbow on the armrest. "My opinion is just that, Commander---an opinion. Does it really take precedence?"
The Marine was more opinionated than he thought. "What's wrong with just answering the question, Lieutenant?"
Stephens straightened in his chair, recognizing an order when he heard one. "Nothing, sir." Stephens thought out his answer for a moment. "Mind you, she wasn't a perfect Marine, but she was striving for it. It's---it's a shame, that she went through what she did."
Harm nodded in concurrence. "What was your relationship with Private Thomas?"
Stephens pursed his lips and let his eyes wander around the room. "Relationship?"
Harm glanced down at the file. "Well, you did say Thomas had been in your platoon since you first took command nearly a year ago. You must have established some kind of relationship with her."
Stephens nodded, biting his lip. "One of my recruits mentioned my--- discrepancies with Thomas, didn't they, sir?"
Harm tried not to look surprised. He didn't think Stephens would come right out with it. "Would you care to elaborate, Lieutenant?" Harm said coolly.
Stephens let a chuckle escape. "Thomas is competitive, sir. As am I. We'd clash sometimes."
"Despite your rank?"
Stephens shrugged. "She followed orders, sir. Discipline was not a problem. But she wasn't afraid to compete."
"Well, the others in your platoon seemed to take it seriously." Harm pointed out.
Stephens rolled his eyes. "Well, they take it the wrong way, sir. Sure, Thomas and I have pushed the limits a little, but it never got to the point where I would hurt her."
Harm shot his eyes to the Marine. "Who suggested you would ever hurt her?"
The Lieutenant's smile diminished.
***
1540 ZULU Quantico Public Library Quantico, Virginia
Mac scribbled the words down on a loose piece of paper. She read it over one more time making sure she got it right, and then stuffed it in her pocket. Grabbing her briefcase, she stormed out of the library, receiving a rebuke from an old librarian, and walked swiftly to her car towards the back of the parking lot. Mac fumbled with her keys for a moment before finding the right one and jammed it into the lock. That's when she felt that familiar sensation that she was being watched. Mac let her eyes dart back and forth. Two rows away were a mother and her two children. Behind them was an old man with a cigar. A few cars away from Mac was a kid, a student probably, balancing a tall stack of books in his hands as he inched his way his Oldsmobile Cutlass. Were they the only ones in the parking lot? Couldn't be.
Mac calmly unlocked the driver's side door, slipping her briefcase onto the passenger seat. She then casually glanced behind her to lock gazes with a massive German shepherd, not five feet away. The dog's eyes seemed to glow with fire, and foam dripped from his mouth, as every breath it exhaled came out as a growl. The student with the books heard it and he turned his head to see where the origin of the noise was from. His eyes widened in that deer-in-the-headlights kind of way. Mac tied to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. The rabid animal was but a few feet from her and she didn't even have a leg in the car. She knew what would happen if she moved.
The mother with her children had just noticed the dog and she hurried her children into their car. She then took out her cell phone, obviously dialing 911. The old man with the cigar didn't seem to notice anything going on.
Knowing full well that she could be torn to pieces, Mac immediately turned her eyes away from the dog's. First rule in dealing with a rabid canine--- don't stare into its eyes. The student had gone frozen long ago and as he peeked over his stack of books, his eyes darted from Mac to the dog. He noticed Mac's uniform and he seemed to think that she would know what to do.
"What do I do?" He asked softly, his voice shaking.
Mac clenched her fists. "Don't move." She said, emphasizing both words.
The kid nodded. "Right." He did this well. Good. Mac didn't need to deal with a frantic civilian. The mother gave her a reassuring look that said the police were on the way. Now, Mac just had to stay still, and wait to see what the dog would do.
Short hair stood up at the shepherd's neck and its snout quivered as deep growls erupted from its throat. It bore its teeth just to make Mac even more uneasy. Mac then noticed that it had a collar. Where the hell was its owner? The dog then crouched and took a few steps closer. Mac felt her chest tighten as the dog taunted her. She closed her eyes for a moment, and when she opened them, she noticed a figure standing amongst the trees in a woody area just outside the parking lot. She couldn't make out any features, but he stood there, with his hands on hips. Mac suddenly got the sense that this was his dog. She was right. The man made a whistle with fluctuating notes. The dog cocked an ear in the man's direction, and it reared its haunches, preparing to attack. Mac held her breath.
Shrill sirens erupted in the distance. The dog's ears went flat to his head at the sound and it suddenly cowered back. Mac blinked in surprise. A piercing whistle shot through the air, and the German shepherd tore off in the direction of the man. This was Mac's cue---she ran after the dog. When the man saw her coming, he whistled again and the dog sprinted even faster. The man also ran deep into the woods, the dog close at his heels. While this went on, the police and an ambulance had pulled into the parking lot. Several officers stepped out of their cars adorned with protective wear. Mac had stopped running when she got to the edge of the woods; her feet were burning from the high heels she wore. A cop jogged up to her and gave her a once over.
"You all right, ma'am? We got a call there was a rabid dog."
Mac nodded at the woods, the man and his dog long gone. "Some guy, he was in there. The dog belonged to him. He ordered it to attack me."
The cop peered into the woods. "All right, we'll send a team in. You sure you're all right?"
Mac licked her parched lips and waited for her breathing to become normal again. "I'm fine. Excuse me, I need to make a call."
***
Webb mentally stored the new information. So First Lieutenant Stephens was their suspect. There was certainly motive, but Webb didn't see Stephens as the kind who would betray one of his own. He was completely devoted to the Corps. Rabb seemed convinced, but not entirely. To pull off Thomas's kidnapping, Stephens would've had to have strong contact with Chechen military. Or at least have enough connection to make a business deal. Webb would check records and see if the Chechen military had suddenly come upon a large sum of pocket money. In the meantime, efforts would be made to establish some kind of contact with Private Thomas. Her testimony would be priceless.
And where was Mac? She should have called Rabb at least fifteen minutes ago. And everyone knew how punctual the Colonel was. As if on cue, Harm's cell phone went off as he was putting files back into his briefcase. He answered it immediately and before he could even establish pleasantries, Mac was off. Webb could hear her voice faintly and it sounded like she didn't even take a breath. Apparently, the information she had must have been bad and worse because Rabb's expression deepened from a frown to plain concern. This peaking Webb's interest, he sauntered over to Rabb, a question mark clear on his features. Rabb listened to Mac go on. She'd stop to take a breath giving Rabb a chance to put a word in, but she'd interrupt him immediately.
"All---all right, Mac, just------are you okay?" On the other end, Mac's tone suggested annoyance. Webb could make a "Of course I'm okay!", "Oh--- okay, Mac, I'll meet you there. Yeah---yeah, ten minutes----we have information, too. Possibly a suspect," Harm added, giving a glance to Webb. Mac exploded with more questions. Harm closed his eyes in obvious frustration.
"Mac, I'll explain it at asylum. See you there." Harm snapped the cell phone closed and drew in a large breath. Webb stared at the commander blankly.
"Well, what'd she say?"
***
Mac stared at the phone for a moment, her mouth parted slightly in disbelief. He hung up on her! How could he tell her that he had a suspect and hang up on her?! Mac scoffed in disgust and tossed the phone to the passenger seat, deciding that she better concentrate more on driving.
***
"Leave me alone." She'd said it for the umpteenth time, yet they never listened.
*How can we?* They answered. Arial clamped her fists over her ears, though she knew they only existed in her head.
"Please go away!" She cried out, sobbing. Arial could feel them shaking their heads at her.
*We can never leave you. You need us!* So many voices all answering as one.
"You're killing me." She whimpered.
*They* are killing you. You need to be afraid of *them!* The voices replied, referring to the people dressed in white that stabbed her with little needles every day.
Arial nodded reluctantly. "I know. But there is someone new." She whispered. Arial could feel the anger welling inside of them. But there was something else she didn't recognize at first---fear. They feared these new people.
"Why are you afraid of them?" Arial asked.
They didn't answer at first. *They are outsiders. We cannot trust them, Arial.*
Arial narrowed her eyes and wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. "But I recognize them. I recognize *him*."
*No, you don't! They will hurt you! He will hurt us!* So much anger! And the overwhelming fear!
"They can help me." Arial realized. She ignored the protests as she figured this out more. "They are here to help me. He is here to help me." It was a revelation. For so long she trusted her voices. She was sure they kept her alive. But they were really just keeping her from getting better. She could hear them screaming at her to stop thinking such thoughts. For a moment, Arial considered letting go. This was done to her. She wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them. She'd put so much faith in her voices. Now she would let go. One by one, she would ignore them. And one by one, they would disappear. Then, she would have her revenge. She would have her revenge on that man. He should have been there. He should have saved her. Now, who would save him?
***
TBC
***
Any suggestions? Comments?
Oh, and I have another request. I tried looking up some information on schizophrenia, (WebMD.com, that sort of thing) and I got some information, but nothing in-depth. Does anyone have any experience dealing with people with schizophrenia? I have a lot of medical info, but nothing about their *actual* behavior and everyday life of someone suffering from this disease. Any info you might offer would help greatly!
Thanks for reading!
~sanctus