Protector of Men Ch 35

"She's been in too long," Shade said, breaking the strange silence, "Someone needs to bring her in."

Cover put up a hand, gesturing for him to be quiet. Too much was happening for them to be sidetracked. He was annoyed when Kesia suddenly spoke again, alerting him to a new flash on her switchboard.

"Cover," she said, asking for his attention. He reluctantly pulled himself away from the screens. His glare told her to be quick.

"The Mayflower's requesting a line," she told him. His face fell, and he nodded a few times. Colombus suddenly appeared on one of the screens, her visage dark with weariness.

"We got him out," she told them. Random nods came from Purgatory; no one wanted to say anything in the somber situation. She sighed heavily and hung her head for a moment.

"Well, she continued, looking back at the camera, "We'll be heading back to Zion tonight so we can have a proper ceremony."

Again Purgatory nodded. Cover suddenly spoke up.

"I'm sure we'll all come," he added, hoisting himself into the camera's range. Kesia accommodated him silently.

Colombus nodded, then produced a weak smile and said her good-byes. Silence pervaded the walls of Purgatory once again.

"Look, if I knew where he was," Zandra answered, "I wouldn't be out here."

The man certainly doesn't give up easily, she thought angrily. She had better things to do than talk with this mystery man. She had someone's life to avenge.

"You must know of him, Miss…"

"Zandra," she answered in a huff, "I don't have time for this." The man sneered, but kept his cool He put his sunglasses back on. "You are trying what little patience I posses," he warned.

I don't have time for this!

The man pulled out his gun and caressed it as a mother would a child. He then looked at Zandra. What little I have left, he reminded himself, don't ruin your last chance to fulfill your duty.

"What do you want him for?" she asked quickly. Maybe he had a good reason to go after him. After all, Zandra figured, Neo did help to send Stephen to his death…

The man hastily put his gun away.

"Mister Anderson," he said with a sigh, "Has been my backache for a long time now."

Zandra nodded at the ground. She was getting nowhere, but she also figured that this person would not be good pissed off. The man stared off into oblivion, digesting his situation. This girl is strange, he thought to himself. He was perplexed by her lack of fear, her naivete…

She stepped back and ran an agitated hand through her hair, distracted by something. He noticed that there was blood on her hands that now streaked her otherwise sunny locks. She was now looking at the sky, her arms flopping at her sides as if they yearned for something more to do, to hold on to.

"Neo!" she suddenly screamed, almost startling him. Too loud, he immediately thought, she'll attract undue attention!

"Miss…" he trailed, trying to grab her arm. He missed. His tone was full of warning, but she took no heed. She easily pulled her arm away from his grip and left him powerless for a moment. He couldn't kill her for the information she could posses, and he was so consumed by his obsession that he would not leave. Not until his existence was threatened, which he feared would be soon.

"Neo," she said in almost a whisper, "Neo."

Her arms fell to her sides and she began to sob. Smith thought about pulling out his gun again, but thought better of it. She looked at her bloody hands and sobbed even harder. He's gone.

Zandra suddenly became quiet as she registered the sound of footsteps approaching her in the pallid street. She turned and looked out towards the road, noticing that the man also had a keen interest in the regular din of pattering feet. Neither had recognized the glitch that would have alerted the two to their new common threat.

Zandra realized that she would have to defeat these newly approaching foes in order to complete her vengeance. Stephen was still fresh in her mind. Freshly killed… Fresh meat. The three agents continued to walk stiffly towards them, almost tempting Zandra to run. But for some reason, she hesitated.

They suddenly stopped for a moment; one pressed his earpiece against his head.

"You again," another one hissed, taking a step closer. It took Zandra a second to realize that he wasn't talking to her, but the man behind her. She backed away slowly, hoping that maybe these agents weren't meant for her.

Smith was silently weighing his options. Either he could run, and trample down his own dignity in the process, or he could fight all three of them. Neither option seemed desirable, but he opted for the latter. Still, he wished that he were still safe, back when the three agents' existences were not necessary. Yet, he was almost glad to have someone to fight with. Thirty years alone was too much to bear.

"Yes," he said mockingly, adjusting his already impeccable tie, "Me again." He enjoyed the sensation of mockery, and quickly got back into his old feeling, brought back his old attitude. He prepared himself for the impending fight.

The three agents flew at the man, moving so fast that Zandra could not even see their rapid movements. Smith was instantly off the ground, but he wasn't done. He tripped one of the agents, and pinned him. The other two were busy trying to synchronize their movements, and weren't able to get to him fast enough. A moment later Zandra saw two of the man, and two agents.

What?

She took her opportunity and fled, hoping that not only would the same phone still work, but that Kesia would be watching, waiting. Zandra's heart fell as she envisioned Kesia watching her break, watching Stephen leave her when she needed him the most…

No one chased her as the continued to run to the familiar building. No one barged in as she waited for Kesia to call. No one cared enough.

Everyone was there to see her out again. Alias sat in her chair next to Zandra, holding a mottled rag. No one said anything as they took out her needle and undid her straps. Zandra tried to avoid looking anyone in the eye. All she wanted to do was curl up and cry… Or was that die? She didn't want to think.

Cover began to say something.

"No," she managed, pulling herself out of her chair. Cover looked surprised, but she didn't care. She needed to be alone, and he conceded that right to her. He nodded once, and Zandra left for her bunk. Kemp followed her.

Zandra landed on her bed with a heavy thud, and faced away from the girl. Kemp would not see the silent tears streaming down her face, but heard her intermittent sniffles. Naively, she thought that her story would ease Zandra's pain.

"Hey girl," she said, sitting on the floor opposite Zandra's bed. Zandra ignored her.

"I know you feel pretty bad about now," she continued, rubbing a hand across her own barely fuzzy head. Zandra was still silent. Pretty horrible didn't even start to describe it. Purgatory seemed too tame a term to use as her refuse now – but 'hell' would do the trick nicely. She was quiet again, which gave Kemp the erroneous cue to continue.

"Just wanted to tell you I know a little of what you're going through…"

Know what I'm going through? Zandra sniffled.

"… And," she continued, still rattling on, "I'm here for ya girl."

Here for ya?

Girl?

She's just too loud for herself, Zandra told herself. It's not her fault if she doesn't know anything about her and Stephen…

Zandra erupted into a fit of tearful hiccoughs as she thought of him again.

Gone. Before she got a chance to tell him how she had felt for so long.

"It's alright," Kemp cooed, inching closer, "It's gonna be alright…"

Zandra was becoming more and more angry with each word that Kemp blasted out of her mouth. It won't be alright, she silently mourned, it'll never be alright. Kemp went up to her bed and caressed her convulsing shoulder; Zandra was as polite as possible in pushing her away Kemp was silent.

"Please," Zandra managed between sobs.

"Please what, girl?" came her soulful rely, full of caring and concern.

"Please," she repeatedly begged, "Go away."

It did what Zandra had hoped – Kemp let out a quiet sigh and left the room without another word, and at the moment, she didn't care if Kemp was hurt. No one was as hurt as Stephen. As her sobs grew louder and more unmanageable, she wondered if he had been in pain. Probably so.

If only I couldn't done something! Zandra pounded her fist against the wall in a sudden torrent of emotion. She pulled her arm back, throbbing from an impact that was more painful than she expected. It all just made her cry more. She didn't care if the crew heard her. Nothing much mattered anymore.