When All Is Lost...
Chapter Three
Quatre sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He had gotten no sleep for the night. He glanced at the clock, checking the time; six in the morning. He rubbed his face briskly before he rose and walked out into the hallway. The battle was over, and he had felt exhausted. By all rights he should have been sleeping. All he saw when he closed his eyes was that piece of metal slamming into Anansi, followed by another. Then the suit didn't move at all, freefalling to Earth as a fiery comet. He let his feet carry him automatically to the galley; perhaps a cup of tea would help to soothe his nerves.
"Hey Q-man."
Looking up startled, he saw Duo seated at a table. What surprised him even more was the full plate of food that sat in front of Duo, who was dragging a fork through it. "You look a bit haggard." he said walking over to the coffee machine.
"You're one to talk." he said, moving the rice around on his plate.
"Hm." Quatre returned with his cup and sat in front of Duo. "Can't sleep?"
"No." Duo slammed his fork down suddenly. "It wasn't supposed to end this way."
"I know." Quatre took a sip of the tea.
"Hilde's in the infirmary and my only sister is MIA."
"Is Hilde going to make it?" he asked.
"The doctors still aren't sure." Duo's hands clenched into tight fists. "Stupid woman nearly got herself killed."
Quatre sighed, giving Duo a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "We seem to find strong willed women."
A somewhat tense silence descended for a few seconds, neither Duo nor Quatre sure of what to say, much less look at one another. Finally Duo gave a sigh.
"You know I have no problem with you two, right Q-man?"
"I assume so. You haven't attempted to pound me or something of the sort." Quatre paused. "They haven't found her...have they?"
Duo nodded. "No, they still can't find out where she landed and where she is. You think someone would have seen a Gundam come crashing down into the ground or water."
"What if someone else found her? Have they talked to people in the area?"
"Yeah; and they've come up empty handed. I'm starting to think they're looking in the wrong place." Duo rose with a weary blink. "Look, I'm gonna see if I can get some sleep. You should too."
"I will Duo." Quatre said. "Take it easy for now."
"Yeah; I'll take it as easy as an ex-soldier can. Let me know if you need any help, all right?"
Quatre remained silent as Duo walked out of the galley, staring down into his cup. Ex-soldiers they were. They could go back to having a normal life and being normal teenagers. But where would he go? What on Earth would he do now that he had been kicked out of the house? How could he be sitting here like this when she was still missing?
Taking the cup, he walked down to the hangar, seating himself before Sandrock. He gazed at the handles of the shotels now in their sheathes. Never again would he have to use Sandrock. He paused as he shivered slightly; it suddenly felt cold. Walking over to the thermostat he looked at the temperature gauge. 'Odd...it's twenty one degrees in here.' He took a small gulp of the tea, feeling the warmth settling in his stomach. His flesh started to goose pimple as he made his way back to his room rapidly. It seemed as if it was simply getting colder. 'What's going on?' He frowned as he made his way down to the nearest control room. He nodded as he entered, waving hello to the few others there as he walked up to an empty console.
"You should rest Quatre."
He glanced back, hearing Trowa's voice. "I know I should." he shivered involuntarily. "But I can't."
"They're looking as we speak."
"I know. But I feel as if I should be doing more Trowa, not just sitting here waiting for someone to solve the problem." he took a sip before he spied Trowa's jacket. "Are you cold?"
"No. Here." Trowa took it off and gave it to him. "Do you need some help?"
"It would be appreciated." he said with a smile, pulling the jacket tighter around him. "I still remember what you said that night; when I couldn't even answer myself."
"And?" Trowa looked at him expectantly as he seated himself in the adjacent terminal.
"It was there all along." he looked at the screen wistfully before he booted it up. "I really appreciate this."
"Not a problem." Trowa said as he did the same. "If not for her sake, I want you to get some rest."
Quatre sighed as he rubbed his eyes and looked at the screen. He had been up for awhile now and he was starting to feel a general strain. Staying up for the past four hours poring over the information before him was rather gruelling. He reached over for his cup of tea, draining the last bit before he continued typing in the information.
"This had better work." he mumbled to himself as clicked the button.
He had found it rather odd that there had been so many discrepancies in the accounts. One said this and another said that; why did something so plain vary so much? Finally disgusted with wading through so much, he had calculated her trajectory landing himself and was now waiting for the computer to come up with a result.
The sharp beep of the program told him it was done. Frowning, he looked at the screen as the dotted flight arc appeared. "Up there?" he blinked for a minute before he looked at the screen once again; it was correct as well as his numbers and calculations. "It's closer to the Bering Strait; why are they looking on the Atlantic coast?" he absently rubbed his leg as he looked it over; it felt a bit sore.
Printing off the results he headed back to his room, a sense of puzzlement washing over him as well as another shiver. It still seemed cold. Opening the doors to his quarters, he shuffled over to the bed and collapsed down on it, sinking gratefully into the soft warmth. He burrowed beneath the blankets and curling up with the pillow in his arms; this seemed to be the only way to alleviate the coldness slightly.
The bright blue sky was crisp with little puffs of clouds going by the plane window. 'I never thought I would actually come here...' He rubbed the bridge of his nose; he still had other worries to take care of and what little money he had left would have to make do for who knew how long. Plus Duo had been more than a little peeved that he had left without him; but Duo had seemed very torn between staying with Hilde and coming with him. No one said making the decision for him was easy.
"I'll make do somehow." he mumbled to himself as he pulled his thick jacket tighter in anticipation; just looking out made him feel colder.
The plane started it descent easily, the tires squealing on the runway. Once it came to a stop, he grabbed his carryon and hurried off of the plane. Thankfully it was simply a bush plane, where the pilot didn't ask him too many questions.
"Welcome to the Northwest Territories!" came a cheery voice over the speakers as he passed through the hangar.
"Says you." he mumbled as he scrambled to put his gloves on; it felt colder already.
He paused by the exit doors, pulling out a scarf and a hat and bundling himself up properly. Steeling himself he walked out of the automated doors.
"Allah!" the muffled word came through the layers of cloth. "It's freezing cold here!!"
He hurried over to a can and got in, telling the driver where he wanted to go. The sooner he found her the better. The cab drive was somewhat short as it pulled into the town just about fifteen minutes away. The single lone street greeted him as he exited the cab and watched it drive down a few more steps and pull into the building at the side. Shivering through the layers, he walked down the street quickly, looking for a place that was filled with people.
"Maybe they can help me in there..." he paused looking into a somewhat dusty window.
Pulling his hat and scarf off, he walked in, the noisy chorus in the place dying down to a bare whisper. He looked around somewhat nervously before he took a seat at the bar.
"What can I help you with?" asked the person from behind the counter. "Did you want a drink?"
"At ten in the morning?! I can't', I'm underage!!"
"You shouldn't be in this pub then, should you?" the person looked at him hard under their eye.
"I know Sir-"
"Madame."
"Madame." he said his face going bright red as some laughs came from behind. "I just need your help with something; it will only take a moment of your time."
"All right then. Shoot kid."
"Thank you." he said. "Ah...did anything out of the ordinary happen here about a week ago?"
"Yeah."
"What?"
"Something crashed down in the ice out there and sank. A day later, some ship comes by and drags it up."
"Like a cargo ship?"
The lady nodded. "Yup; was an icebreaker with a cargo hold I guess. What they dragged up, it looked like a Gundam."
Quatre paused, taking out a piece of paper and scribbled quickly. "Did the ship look odd in any way? Did any one come into the town from the ship?"
"No...I don't think so. Not as far as I know at least."
"Oh, someone did all right. I was working that shift, not you."
Quatre turned hearing the masculine voice from the back. "You did?" he hurried over. "Who was it?"
"Not a nice fellow, you could tell by the tone in his voice. He walked with a cane and a bad limp; probably a groin injury or something." the man shifted in his seat. "Why do you want to know? You with a newspaper or something?"
"No; I want to find my friend."
"You mean that girl that he dragged in here with him? Black hair, and eyes that could make you regret anything?"
"Was she wearing a necklace? A spider?"
The man nodded." Yup, that's her. She was limping too; much worse than the guy, barely walking. You think he would have bought her a crutches or something. What happened to her?"
"I don't know..." Quatre said in a whisper as his pen stopped for a few seconds, horrid images flashing through his mind. "Did he say where they were going?" he said as he got a grip on himself. "Where did they stay?"
"Just outside of town; that must have been a few days ago. You can go and see if you want; just out west by ten minutes, you can walk. I rented it to him for the time. If you see that no good rotten bastard, tell him he owes me my safety deposit and the rent. All I know is that when the ship went, they both went."
"How much did you charge him?" Quatre asked out of sudden curiosity.
"More than I should have." the man snorted. "Men like that make terrible tenants. People like you on the other hand..." he paused. "Hey kid, you need a place to stay while you're here? I can give you a deal on it."
"No I'm not staying long. I have to find the ship. When did they leave, do you have a specific date?"
"Around the end of last week kid; and I mean Sunday by that."
"Really?" he shoved the piece of paper in his pocket again; today was Tuesday. "If you don't mind, I think I will go and see the house."
The man gave him a wave. "Go. But I haven't been up there yet, so I don't know what it's like."
"That's all right." he said with a smile as he pulled back on his hat and scarf. "Thank you very much!" he exclaimed running out of the building.
Quatre paused, looking over that paper before he shoved it back in his pocket and hurried over to the house. It was ten minutes away like the man had said. When he approached it, he found himself looking at a rather cozy two-storey cottage, the white filler in the chinks standing out against the dark wood.
"Quaint..." he murmured as he walked up to the door and pushed it open.
Dust motes rode down on the filmy streams of sunlight. Quatre did move, his entire body motionless and strained. There was an air around here, as if something wasn't quite right. He walked in slowly, unsure of what he would find. Furniture lay overturned, some of it broken to pieces, the stuffing lying around in silent testament. He picked his way across, heading for the door at the end of the room. Opening it slowly, he peered in, seeing the table sitting there, a lone chair pushed in. He walked out slowly and headed for the flight of stairs. The creaks echoed out eerily through the air, making the hair on the back of his neck rise sharply. Coming to the top he paused for a minute, unsure of what door to go to between the three.
"This one..." he said in a strained voice as he walked down to the one on his left.
He placed his hand on the door, not twisting on the knob. There was a strange fear inside to even open it. It was as if there was nothing good on the other side. He took a deep breath, getting a hold of himself as he opened the door and walked in. The darkness greeted him first, shading everything in the room. He walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains, bright sunlight flooding into the room once more.
"What?" he paused seeing a sledgehammer resting against the door jamb.
He went over and picked it up, only to drop it again quickly. He fell to his knees, breathing hard. Pain had gone lancing through his body, particularly from his legs. It was so tangible that it could have crippled him. Rising shakily, he backed away from the tool and sat on the bed, trying to get his breath back. It took him a few minutes but he got it back; but that peculiar feeling in his legs didn't disappear.
"Allah, please don't let it be what I think it is..." he begged in a whisper; he had a sinking feeling though that it was. After a few minutes of silence, he rose and started to walk out of the room. "What was that?"
He turned back, hearing the sound of paper against a surface. There on the night table was a envelope, with no name. Hesitant, he picked it up, faint and hazy images running through is mind, like the images he saw when he closed his eyes. Bleakness, whiteness and the sight of a fist coming towards him all flooded his mind. He shook his head before he started to open to envelope; it reminded him too much of him and what he had done to him. One hand unconsciously rubbed his cheek where there scar was. He looked inside once it was open, feeling a weight inside.
"Allah..." his face went pale as he turned the paper upside down, allowing the object to fall out so he could see it better.
The amber spider rested in the palm of his hand, winking up at him almost mockingly. His hand closed around it instinctively as he tried to recall Jess' touch. It seemed farther away now, as if she was drifting beyond any reach, beyond his reach. Looking back inside, he yanked out the piece of paper and read it, his heart sinking. He had a vague idea of what the words meant but they were enough to chill him to the bone; the words on the paper made it painfully clear. He looked once more to be sure, swallowing hard as he read them again; there was only one person who could have written it.
'Yurusunai. Kisama no itooshi o korosu.'
Yurusunai. Kisama no itooshi o korosu. = I can't forgive you. I will kill your beloved. [At least...that's what I want it to mean. I can only hope it's right. I hope... ^.^;;]
