by: iluvaqt@hotmail.com
QT's notes: Many thanks to those who've reviewed and come back to read. ;)
Chapter 7: Confidence
"You know you can talk about anything, boo." Original Cindy took a seat next to her friend and ran her palms over her knees. Wondering if she'd have to prod further to evoke a response out of her brooding roommate.
Max glanced at Original Cindy briefly, before returning to the spot on the wall where the paint was a different shade to the rest. She didn't want to tell anyone what she was thinking about, it was just too depressing. It was bad enough that she'd had a terrible momentary lapse in judgment, not to mention the devastating reality that came as a direct result. She couldn't even begin to think of a way to explain the situation to Logan, how could she tell OC?
"Boo, I know you. You keep things inside till it's too big for even you to carry. It can't be that bad. OC's never judgin', just listenin' and please tell me I don't need to remind you that I'll take your secrets to my grave."
Max gave her a weak smile. "I know. I just. It's not that I can keep this to myself, it's gonna come out sometime. I don't even know where to start. And I know you won't judge me. I've condemned myself for my stupidity. "
"You and Alec, banged the gong."
It was a simple statement, not a question and Max was taken back."Sugah, there's no need to look surprised. You were gone for a long time. Nobody's thinkin' you been celibate. It was just a wild guess but it don't take no genius, considering you were livin' together for awhile."
"It wasn't like that. Just once…it was a mistake. We both knew it…"
OC folded her arms and sunk into the sofa. "Why do I get the feeling this ain't the end of it?"
"I'm pregnant." She just let it slip out. It was as if it had always been on the edge of her lips just waiting for her to let go. To her credit, Original Cindy didn't look shocked nor did she say anything.
Taking Max's hands in hers, she made her friend meet her eyes. "Whatever you decide, you know I'm there for my boo. Always."
Their foreheads touched and Max let a single tear fall from the corner of her eye. A shrill succession of beeps, interrupted the quiet. Reluctantly, Max reached for her pager and read the message.
"It's Tash. That's weird, I thought she went back to Minnesota?"
"Actually, she's in Chicago with her brother. What'd it say?"
Max reached for her jacket and pulled her hair from it's tie. "She's at Metro Med, she says it's urgent."
"Doesn't sound good. I'll go with you." OC got her keys and jacket before Max stopped her.
"I'm sure it'll be okay. I need you to cover for me. Normal's sure to blow a gasket and give me hassles today if he knows I'm gonna be late. We need the cash, boo. It's Thursday, just keep him guessing for an hour. I shouldn't be longer than that."
Max parked her bike in the underground lot and pocketed her keys. Getting off the bike, she started toward the hospital entrance. As she put her hand on the handle, jots of electricity shot up her spine. Tremors wracked her body as her attacker continued the assault. She managed to get a brief glimpse of his face, before her consciousness faded to blackness. In that moment - for it's short entirety - she'd felt more fear than she ever had in her life.
Only one name could fit the cold hatred on that face. White.
After they left the hospital yesterday, he was sure that she'd want to just relax and let him take care of her. He couldn't have been more wrong. She'd been quiet most of the ride home. And it was only when they were nearing he's apartment that she'd asked if he could drop her home.
So he'd dropped her at her apartment. He'd wanted to stay, especially because he didn't want her to be alone. OC wouldn't be back till 6 o'clock and despite her protests he wasn't sure that she was okay. He'd stayed for an hour. Just to make her tea and help her to bed. After getting her promise that she would call if she felt even a little weird, he unwillingly left.
Alone in his car, he had time to think about everything that had happened to them. Time to brood and he didn't like his thoughts. She still didn't feel entirely comfortable with him, she still had a wall firmly in place guarding her feelings from him. Why did she have to hide, or what did she have to hide? Was she afraid of him, afraid he would hurt her, or was it something else? Something about Beverly was a little off too. She was strangely quiet, almost secretive. She was holding something back. But he couldn't ask. It might not have even been related to Max. He had no right to pry.
Late that night, when he couldn't sleep, Logan tried to imagine that Max was there. Soft curls across her pillow. Soft, almost inaudible breaths that fanned his neck in warm caresses. A sore lump developed in his throat and he swallowed painfully. He wouldn't lose her again, he couldn't. Not after he'd finally felt her heart. He knew she loved him. But when would she let him love her?
She woke up, groggy and pained. Her arms were stretched above her, her feet barely touching the floor of her metal prison. It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the poor light, and focus on the sneering face below.
"Awake? Took you long enough. Superior?" He shook his head, musing to himself. They were no more superior than glorified assassins. Martial Arts students had more control and skill. Sure the X-series were stronger and more resistant to disease and environment, but still mortal. And in the case of Max and her fellow escapees, lacked discipline. Something he counted for more than half-baked genetic enhancements. "Sup'd up genetics, and for what? Science forgot the basic laws of nature. A bright light can only burn bright for so long. Then the fuel runs out and poof. No light. I bet they never told you about your life expectancy? Expendable soldiers. Of course you knew that." He gave her a rueful laugh. "Oh wait, you wouldn't. You and your little friends, escaping in '09. Thinking you'd found freedom, live the good life and all that rubbish people like to feed the gullible masses."
"It's not stupid to want a life of your own. Short or not, I don't regret the sacrifices I had to make to stay free. No one, not even you can take that."
White leaned on the railing and looked up at her. "Poor Max, caged and helpless. Just how you were meant to be. It's a shame that they closed the files on you. Their termination would have been so much more swift and humane." He watched her silently, reading the fear in her eyes. "Such a pity your sister decided to hide behind her name, you could have had a nice family reunion. And I can't deny it would have given me so much more satisfaction to bring Baxter to his knees before I killed her. As for that pathetic clone, he seems to have disappeared. They can't hide forever. I could have use for you yet."
Max noticed he was about to walk away; she dared defy her intelligence and asked, "Why are you doing this?"
"Vindication. You cost me everything. My respect, family, job… My son. Then, you won't know the first thing about that. He's everything. You know what it's like losing a child? I lost my first born at birth. The second, a girl, was two months premature. She didn't stand a chance. My wife nearly committed suicide with PND. It was a miracle that we even had Ray."
"I find it hard to comprehend that you believe in God but you murder innocent children," she spat.
"God had nothing to do with you freaks. I can see you haven't lost your sharp tongue. Maybe a couple of days in there will do you good."
"It didn't work for Manticore, it won't work for you."
"Maybe not. But it'll certainly keep you occupied for awhile," he said. Before she could retort. He'd opened the door at the end of the catwalk and disappeared.
Max pulled against her restraints. It was no use. They were made out of Kevlar. Unless she could cut them with something, she was stuck. Then there was the whole dilemma of being caged 12ft from the ground.
Not giving up, all she could worry about was Logan when he discovered that she'd gone missing. She only hoped that he wouldn't think she'd abandoned him.
Logan dived for the phone when it rang this time. The first time he'd been in the kitchen and couldn't reach the handset in time. He'd tried callback but it turned out to be a public phone and some street junkie had answered. Thinking it was Max and not wanting to miss her again, he'd almost resorted to gluing the handset to his palm. He'd tried paging her all day, with no answer. He was beginning to get a little concerned.
"Max?"
"No, sugah, it's OC. So you haven't heard from her either?"
Logan slumped into the lounge. "No, I've been paging her all day."
"She got a page this morning and took off. Said she'd be at work in an hour and never showed. The message said it was Tash, needing to meet her at Metro Med. But I called Tash and she didn't page Max. I'm getting a really bad vibe about all this."
"What time this morning?"
"It was about 8.30. I've been paging her since 10. I even called the service to check that her pager was working."
"Did the same thing. Listen, call Tash and tell her not to worry. We'll track her down. I'm gonna call up the service and see if I can trace the caller."
"I can do that. Just keep me in the 411, aiight."
"Will do." Not even a heartbeat after leaving her, he was on the phone to the carrier company. "I need the number and ID that paged 35041988521168 this morning. A friend disappeared and it could be the only lead we have."
The woman on the other end was very sympathetic and helpful. "I can't give you a name, but I'll give you the return number. Oh, wait. It's a public booth. I can give you an address."
"That'd be great." He hastily scribbled the supplied address and thanked the woman.
16th Ave, between Pike and Union Streets, about a block from Metro Medical. Someone had to have seen something. He called Sam, thinking he might have seen Max. He got the doctor's answering service. He decided to head down there, even though he didn't think he'd have much luck.
After half an hour of asking every person he met, which were all of 6 people. He got back in ol' Bessie and spent the rest of the night driving around scanning the streets. He checked; Crash, the alleys around her apartment, the safe house on Mercer St, Alec's old apartment, South Market and the Space Needle. He climbed up to the roof through the observation deck and sat for what seemed like hours. It had been the first time he'd been back up there since the night after they took down Manticore. The night he thought he'd lost her for the first time. Sometime before sunrise, he found himself back across the street from the phone booth.
Blinking, Logan realized he must have finally fallen asleep. Checking he's phone, he was disappointed to see there were no missed calls. There was one message, from Original Cindy. She wanted to know if he'd heard anything. He didn't reply.
Getting out he walked across the street to the booth. From there he could see some of the stores beginning to open and a few people leaving for the day. An old lady sweeping the pavement a few doors down, looked up at him. He lifted his hand to wave at her, but she quickly turned and went indoors.
Logan hurried after her. "Wait. I need…" She tried to close the door, but he stopped her. "Please. I'm looking for a friend. Do you know if anyone used that phone, yesterday?" He pointed to the one not far from her shop door. "It would have been about this time."
"There were a couple people. I don't remember what they looked like. I don't want to know."
"Male, female? Short, tall. Anything?"
She looked like she was going to tell him to leave, before she bit her lip and met his gaze. "There was one man. Very mean looking. He wore a big dark coat, a bit like yours. I thought you were him from a distance. When I looked at him, he told me to mind my own business. So that's why I went inside when I saw you. You're taller, I think. And he didn't have glasses." She put her broomstick against the wall and wiped her hands on her apron. "Wait one minute. My grandson is always watching people from the window upstairs. Thinks he's a private eye or some silly thing like that. Maybe he saw something."
Logan waited downstairs in her small bakery. The smell of fresh bread made his stomach start protesting loudly. The lady returned with a young boy, no older than 7. He looked like he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"Hi, I'm Logan. I hear you like to keep an eye on the street. Making sure people don't get up to trouble?"
The boy nodded vigorously. His grandmother chuckled, "I bet he likes to think so. We've had a couple of false alarms with the police because of his over active imagination. He's banned from using the phone now."
"My name's Joshua."
"Joshua, can you help me out? I'm looking for a friend, and I think she might be in trouble. Your grandma says that there was a man that used the phone booth yesterday. He was wearing a coat like mine looked a little like me but he was shorter. Do you remember him?"
"Yeah," Joshua said excitedly. "He drove a nice car. A Mercedes E-Class. I know it's not that new but I like it. My dad says it's a classic."
His grandmother frowned at that, but Logan was happy the boy had paid attention. "Do you read the plates? Which way was he headed?"
"I know where he was going. I followed the car with my binoculars."
"Yours?" his grandmother questioned. "Your grandfather's. And they're not to be played with." The boy's face fell.
"Listen, tell me where the car went and I'm make sure you have a pair of your own."
"It went to Metro Medical. It left a bit later. 30 minutes? I'm not sure where he was going after that. But he was driving fast."
"You don't remember the registration?" The boy shook his head and Logan stood up. "I'll have the binoculars delivered. Thank you for you help."
"You don't have to," the woman started.
Logan help up his hand. "It's a gift. Thanks again."
"We hope you find her."
Logan nodded and walked out.