Chapter Ten

"You're right, Mac. Laura is a new Immortal."

Dawson's announcement greeted Duncan as he walked through the front door of the tavern. Dawson, the only other occupant, stood behind the bar, wiping down the counter. He tossed his towel aside as Duncan approached, and he pulled a manila file folder from beneath the cash register.

"What made you draw that conclusion?" Duncan queried, his eye on the folder.

"Have a seat, and I'll show you."

Duncan did as Joe requested, removing his coat and laying it over the bar stool next to him. Dawson opened the folder and took out the top sheet of its contents. Duncan found himself face to face with a copy of an old wedding photo. Judging by the dress the bride wore, Duncan guessed that the photo was taken during the early nineteen seventies. Other than that, though, she didn't interest him much. It was the groom who captured his attention. "This is the guy I saw at the hotel yesterday."

"His name's David Burke," said Dawson. "That is . . . or, rather, was . . . his wife Melissa."

"Where did you get this?" Duncan asked, still gawking at the photo.

"One of our researchers up in Vancouver sent it to me," Dawson explained as he handed Duncan the next sheet, "along with this."

It was the front page of an Ohio newspaper, dated twenty-two years ago. Duncan gave it a quick once-over. "Family of four presumed dead as fire destroys Youngstown home." He glanced up at Dawson. "Family of four?" he echoed.

"David Burke had his first death during his stay in a North Vietnamese prison camp. His wife claimed to have given birth to twins just before his release."

"I bet he must not have been too happy to learn he's not the father," Duncan mused.

"No birth records exist, and no adoption records. At least, none the researcher could find."

Duncan's eyebrows shot up. He could tell when Dawson was leading up to something. "Is that so?"

"It was Burke's first teacher who broke the news about Immortals not being able to have children. And no, Burke wasn't exactly thrilled to find out that little piece of news."

"What did he do?"

"Take a lucky guess."

Duncan shook his head. "That wouldn't be the first time an Immortal took his teacher's head."

"The house fire happened the same night," added Joe.

"What's your point?"

"My point is that while Burke would obviously have escaped the fire unharmed, there should have been three other bodies recovered." A dramatic pause. "Firefighters at the scene found nothing. According to the Youngstown Fire Marshal, no one could have escaped that blaze, and it was assumed the bodies of Burke's wife and kids were all burned to ashes."

"And this all has what to do with Laura and Jonathan?"

"Nothing, until this turned up."

Dawson gave Duncan a second front page, this one from a Vancouver paper. And it was much more recent than the first one.

Duncan read the date on the top of the newspaper. "October 25, 1995." He glanced at Dawson. "Yesterday's paper?"

"Check out the top headline," said Joe.

"Two die as car overturns: crash leaves two miraculous survivors." Without any prompting from Dawson, Duncan let his eyes fall on the photograph beneath the headline. Astonished, he looked back up at Joe. "Laura and Jonathan were in that crash, too?"

"Along with someone else you may recognize," said Dawson, pointing at the couple standing behind Laura and Jonathan in the photograph. "Meet Daniel Kessler, one-time Watcher, and his wife Melissa."

Duncan saw it at once. The woman had aged, of course, but the same dark hair, the same eyes . . . there was no mistake about it. "That's Burke's wife!" he exclaimed softly. "How did she . . .?"

His question went unfinished. Dawson replied, "One of our guys spotted Melissa Burke outside Windsor, Ontario, in August of seventy-five. She had two children with her, a girl, about two and a half years old, and a boy, apparently seven months old. He made the connection between those two kids and the twins who supposedly died in the house fire, and a Watcher was assigned to the family immediately."

"Let me guess: Daniel Kessler."

"Right, and it was about a year and a half later that Dan inexplicably left the Watchers, and he, Melissa, and her children dropped from sight."

"Where they stayed until their car crashed," Duncan concluded. "How much of this does Laura remember?"

"My guess is none of it."

Duncan was dumbfounded. "She's right in the middle of it, Joe! How could she not know at least something?"

"The accident." Dawson went on before Duncan had a chance to express his incredulity over that statement. "I read the article, Mac, and it said that Dan's car must have going like the proverbial bat out of hell when it hit a guard rail and rolled over. Jonathan came away unharmed, but Laura experienced massive head and neck injuries. She was declared dead at the scene, but when she revived at the hospital, it was assumed that the equipment the rescue workers used to take Laura's vital signs must have been malfunctioning."

"That still doesn't explain her amnesia."

"Put yourself in her place, Mac. You wake up in a hospital morgue, where all these people are freaking out over you, trying to figure out why you're suddenly alive when you're supposed to be dead. They start poking, prodding, and testing you because they want to make sure they aren't losing their own minds. Add to that the fact that while you survived, your parents, your sole source of support your entire life, won't come back ever . . . man, if that were me, my brain'd shut down, too."

Duncan placed the papers back in the folder and looked Dawson in the eye. "Do you think Burke found out about the accident, and wants to finish what he started back in seventy-three?"

"I wouldn't doubt it."

Duncan stood up rapidly, looping his coat over his arm. "If that's the case," he declared, "then I have to get back to the loft. There's no way we can keep Laura in the dark any longer."

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

The dojo was empty. Duncan expected it to be. Neither Laura nor Methos had any reason to be down here. Still, he had a strange, uneasy feeling which he couldn't ignore.

He turned to Joe, standing next to him. "You didn't have to come along," he said.

Dawson shrugged Duncan's words aside. "Mike can handle the place tonight. Besides, I have to keep an eye on you."

Dawson's Watcher duties were a pretense. "You haven't spoken to her father in twenty some-odd years," Duncan reminded his friend.

"I know. It's just that . . . well, she might take it better if I'm there when you tell her."

"Thanks," said Duncan.

"Don't mention it." The Watcher eyed him carefully. "How do you propose breaking the news?"

The presence of another Immortal washed over him. "I'm working on it, Joe."

Duncan's gaze went immediately to the elevator, which was slowing to a stop as it reached the dojo. He and Dawson watched as Laura lifted the door open with her right hand. She held on to Jonathan's carrier in her left hand, while his diaper bag hung on her left shoulder. The strap of her duffel bag threatened to slip from its position over her right shoulder, and she balanced the bag on her back before reaching for her large suitcase. She wore her denim jacket, and had evidently packed in a hurry. Duncan saw the hilt of her saber sticking out from an opening in the suitcase. She was visibly upset, and Jonathan's crying only added to her already tense air.

"What's wrong?" Duncan asked her.

"I'm leaving," Laura sounded determined, but her tone was laced with a tinge of panic. "I have to get out of here."

"Laura," Duncan began, "there's something we have to tell you first . . ."

The feeling hit again, this time coming from outside. Duncan felt the urge to run out and confront Burke right then and there - who else could it be? - but his attention was instead grabbed by the sight of Laura, who let everything she was carrying fall to the ground as she seized her temples. Jonathan's carrier hit the floor with a soft thud, and Duncan heard the barest sound of something rattling as it fell from one of Laura's bags. "Oh, God," she moaned weakly, "not now . . ."

She collapsed, and Duncan barely had time to catch her before she hit the floor. At the same instant, Methos all but crashed through the dojo's rear entrance. As Duncan guided Laura to the nearest weight bench, he took note of the rust-colored stains on the left cuff of Methos' bulky sweater, as well as the dried-up blood right beneath Methos' nose.

"Laura, wait a minute! I can explain . . ." Methos' voice trailed off, and he stopped dead in his tracks as he registered the scene before him. "Oh," he finished lamely. "Will she be all right?"

"She just sensed you, that's all." Duncan said dryly. "What happened?"

Methos' hand instinctively went up to his nose. "She, uh, hit me. Right after I cut myself." His tone suggested nothing of the sardonic attitude he'd had since Laura and Jonathan came into town. "She really doesn't know she's One of Us."

Duncan had his arm behind Laura, supporting her until she same around. He barely had time to breathe as she shakily got to her feet before she pulled him in front of her, holding him there as if her very life depended on it.

"Keep him away from me, Mac!!" Her deafening scream added to the nerve-wracking wailing Jonathan launched into when he was dropped. Still, Duncan was able to get past the ringing in his ears and realize which "him" Laura was referring to. Fortunately, Methos made no move toward her.

Duncan had to do something. Slowly and deliberately, he drew Laura around until she stood before him, and he tilted her chin up until she was forced to look him in the eye. Methos wisely backed away. "Laura," he tried to tell her, "it's okay."

"What?"

Laura's voice all but broke as it squeaked out that one word, but that one word shouted volumes that betrayed her fragile state of mind. This was not the way Duncan wanted to tell her. He, Dawson, and Methos - if Methos were willing - were supposed to have sat Laura down and calmly explained everything. She was not supposed to be losing it because of whatever stupid thing Methos said or did.

"It's okay," he repeated. "We know."

"Then why didn't you tell me?!" Laura started pacing frantically up and down the width of the room, her arms flailing about as she made wild gestures to the air. She was moving like a whirlwind, and her words tumbled out of her mouth in a mad rush. "If I had known what Adam was sooner, then Jonathan and I could have gone to a church or a synagogue or a Buddhist temple or . . ."

The three men looked at each other. How did she know about holy ground?

Duncan grabbed her by the upper arms and shook her, perhaps more roughly than he should have. "Stop it, Laura!" he yelled. "Stop it!"

She tried to push him away. "Let go of me!" she shrieked.

Duncan lowered his voice, but he still had to find some way to calm her down and get some answers from her. "Not until you tell me, word for word, what your father told you."

He watched the mix of emotions cross her face. So did Methos and Joe, both holding their breaths. Duncan held his, as well, without realizing he was doing it until he heard Laura herself inhale deeply and begin to speak:

"It was when he gave me the sword . . ."

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

Montreal, 1989

They were in the living room, Laura and her father. Mom had taken Jonathan with her to the grocery store. Laura wished she were with them now, not standing here cradling her father's birthday present to her. Most kids got cars for their sixteenth birthday. She would've been happy with a new set of drawing pencils. What was her father thinking?

Even as that question occurred to her, Laura found herself transfixed by the gift. The scabbard was in excellent condition, and the saber's hilt was polished so that it gleamed. Laura could not help but be mesmerized by its beauty.

Her father stood in front of her. He seemed nervous, and she could well imagine why. The sword must have cost him a small fortune, probably more than any car. How did he manage to save up enough money to buy it? His salary was barely sufficient for the four of them to live on.

"Be careful when you unsheathe it," he said, a bit uncertainly. "Never touch the sharp end of the blade."

"It's gorgeous, Dad," she heard herself reply, "but why are you giving it to me?"

"You know all those fencing lessons your mom and I have been sending you to?" She nodded, and he went on. "They're so you know how to use a sword. You see, Laura, your brother is special, very special, but he's not unique. Others like him will seek him out and try to hurt him. Use the sword if you have to, for your own sake as well as your brother's. And remember this: no one will touch you on holy ground. It is the one place where you and your brother will truly be safe . . ."

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

Seacouver, 1995

By the time she finished her story, Laura was no longer hysterical, but Duncan still picked up on the anxiety in her voice. And her eyes were no longer on him; they stared at some vague spot on the floor.

"I don't know why he included me when he said that," she concluded. "He must have misspoken. Besides, whoever heard of people using swords on each other? It sounds like something right out of William Shakespeare. At any rate, I thought he was making it all up." She cast a resentful, sidelong glance at Methos. "I guess I was wrong."

Duncan loosened his grip on her arms. Thankfully, she didn't try to run again. "Laura," he attempted to explain, "Adam doesn't want to hurt you, or Jonathan. He wants to help you as much as Joe and I do."

"Why?" Laura questioned sharply. "Until yesterday, you didn't even know us."

Said Joe, "We know . . . something about you."

Laura shifted her wary gaze over to Dawson. "What do you know about me?" she ventured timidly. Her voice trembled with every word.

Duncan swallowed hard. "Laura," he said as gently as he knew how, "There's no easy way to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it straight out . . ."

His voice died out the instant her eyes were back on him. Duncan studied her clouded-over expression, and sensed that she was on the verge of making a very difficult decision. Duncan waited tensely, praying she'd make the right one.

Finally, at long last, she did. "Save it, Mac," she replied bitterly. "I'm out of here."

With all the resolution she could muster, Laura walked over to where she left Jonathan and her luggage. All Duncan, Methos, and Joe could do was stand by helplessly and watch. She hoisted the duffel bag over left shoulder, the diaper bag over her right, and reached for the suitcase with her right hand. Her left hand gripped Jonathan's carrier as she headed toward the front entrance.

"Laura, wait!" Duncan called out once he found his voice. "Let me drive you to wherever you're going."

"Forget it," she tossed out behind her, not even bothering to stop. "I'll hail a cab." With that, she was out the door, and Jonathan's cries diminished as the door closed behind her.

The moment the door slammed shut, Duncan turned on Methos, his glare saying more than words ever could. "It was an accident, Mac," Methos claimed, throwing his hands up in front of him. "I swear it!"

Duncan wanted to argue that point, but he never got the chance. Both he and Methos were hit by the arrival of another Immortal. Then, all three men were startled by the sound of gunfire. A woman's scream - Laura's - and they were out the front door.