Chapter 2

There was no warmth for Alec in the dark depths of the eye of the barrel, aiming down at him.

"Officer," Max said, muscles tightening like an elastic band. Commending herself for not flinching at the shock, she continued, "What can I do for you?"

Another pat on the back for keeping her voice calm and steady.

"I wanna see ID," the officer ordered, changing his one-hand grip to a two- hand grip nervously. Max had to force herself to look away from the twitching trigger finger, but at his face, meeting blue eyes.

"Just let me get-" Max began, reaching slowly into her pocket.

"Don't move!"

****

Alec jumped, ready to go in when he saw the trigger finger jerk, the gun aimed right at Max's head, but Max stopped him, her finger tapping away at the air.

What the fuck? The pimp is gonna shoot her!

She wanted him to do *nothing*! Just sit back and watch her get shot.

Angry, Alec's training held, allowing Max to do things her way.

****

Hands raised above her head, Max again resisted the urge to stare at the trigger finger itching the air.

"Well how the hell do you expect to see our ID's then?" Max heard Alec say in a sarcastic tone.

Max tapped for Alec to shut-up.

Noticing the officer was looking panicked, Max took pity on him and was about to order him to take the ID from her pocket, but he regained the situation.

"Stand-up, hands on your head," he barked. "Slowly."

Again, tapping to Alec, she ordered him to do as the officer said. Trouble was the last thing Max wanted tonight.

"That's it, nice and easy," the officer said and motioned to the wall. "Hands up against it."

****

Bad move, Alec thought, watching the officer darkly as he motioned with his gun. If Max gave the order- you'd be disarmed and your brains splattered against the wall.

Sighing inwardly, he complied with Max's orders to stand-up and about face.

****

Doing as ordered, Max gasped when she felt cold metal against the back of her neck, parting her hair to reveal her identity.

"This is officer Keith," a shaky voice said behind her. "I need back-up."

Shit.

"I've got their leader- 452."

Double shit.

Taking a calming breath, while tapping to Alec to move, Max knew that her next movement could lodge a bullet into the base of her skull. Killing her.

Spinning around, knocking the gun from his grasp, Max muttered a 'sorry' as Alec landed a brick on the officer's- no, Keith's head. Blocking out the sound of brick meeting head, she caught Keith and lowered him gently to the ground.

Alec dropped the brick next of Keith, but Max did not look up. Instead she checked his pulse, and her hand floated over Keith's cheek. Alive.

Just like me.

What if I were normal? The thought came unbidden to Max's mind. We could have been friends. Hanging at Crash and shooting pool together.

Everything suddenly seemed pointless to her. Transgenics would never be accepts. They were hated- no, feared by everyone.

Escape and evade. Go to ground. That would be the easiest order to give and follow.

The grief and despair that swept through her disappeared as a single tear slid down her face and onto Keith's cheek.

"Past boyfriend or something, Max?"

"No."

"You know him then?"

Ignoring him, Max almost reverently placed Keith's head on the ground before standing up. Refusing to look at Alec, she said: "We need to get back."

"Max?"

Simply shaking her head, she set off at a jog that quickly progressed into an all out run, her feet pounding against the pavement in unison with Alec. Seeing him catch-up, Max put on a burst of speed and took an intricate root back to TC.

****

"Quiet night?" Max asked Mole. She had not stopped running till she was through the secret passage and into what had become the control center of TC.

"As quiet, as quiet gets."

Max smiled slightly in relief.

"You ready to go off and smoke these god-awful cigars I picked-up for you?" Max said, tossing Mole the box of cigars.

"Girl, go to bed." Mole said, the cigar bud wagging in his mouth. "You look like you need it."

"Actually," Max said, stifling a yawn while waving her hand towards the tanks outside the fence, "What I really need is for those metal cans out there to explode from amount of ammo they got packed in them and heat me some bathwater."

"About the only thing they'd be good for," Mole mumbled while lighting a new cigar.

"Amen."

****

Max, stripped down to a vest top and some boxers, slipped thankfully into bed. It was her first time to see- let alone touch- a bed in over thirty- six hours. She'd been counting.

Her back hurt when she relaxed into her bed, it was so tense.

Closing her eyes and snuggling into one of the few luxuries she allowed herself- a feather pillow- she was haunted by the touch of Keith's cheek.

And his eyes- they were blue. The same blue she saw in Gem's eyes every day. The same blue to the sky they shared.

Groaning, dying for sleep, Max nearly suffocated herself in an attempt to wipe the image of Keith's eyes from her minds eye.

They weren't the eyes of the enemy, and they should have been.

Finally, after tossing and turning herself into a frenzy, Max's mind began to still and a calmness settle over her, sleep ready to come- when she heard a loud knock on the door.

Groaning, Max covered her ears from the noise and grunted a "What?"

"Little Fellow sleeping?"

"No," Max said, her initial irritation ebbing away quickly. "What's up Big Fellow?"

"Joshua got something for Max," he said, shuffling uncertainly into Max's room.

"Come here," Max said, shimmying over on the bed to make room for Joshua's large form.

"Joshua number 200," Joshua said, proudly revealing a canvas with a multitude of colors and a distinct brown swirl in its center.

"It's beautiful," Max whispered, unable to take her eyes off it.

"Little Fellow like?" Joshua sounded so uncertain that Max wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest, feeling safe from blue eyes.

"I love it."

Pulling Joshua further into the bed, Max rested her aching head against his warm and welcoming chest, murmuring a 'thank you' as Joshua's arms wrapped protectively over her.

This is what she wanted- someone to be comfortable with; to wrap her arms around, whose presence alone comforted her.

Joshua was like a great big teddy bear. His smell comforting, massaging her frazzles nerves. A warm body against her was like family.

Safe.

"Max!"

Someone had barged into Max's tiny room.

The intruder almost fell over the pile of clothing carpeting the floor causing Max, for an instant, to think if was Alec.

"What?" Max said, instantly alert, knowing sleep had only taken her for about five minutes sleep. Looking up at Joshua's face, she saw anger.

"Max sleeping!" he said to Mole and tensing against Max's side.

"It's alright, big Fellow. I got plenty of sleep." Max comforted him with a gentle arm on his shoulder.

Looking for the first at the intruder, Max registered the urgency on Mole's face. "What's wrong?"

"Nineteen transgenics are being held prisoner in sector 4. Logan's got the info."

Max could only groan.

****

"So what've you got?" Max asked while nursing a cup of coffee Mole had thankfully shoved in her face.

"Good morning would be nice," Logan said, refusing to look up.

Morning? Was it really morning? Had blue eyes haunted her for so long? "May be morning, but that alone don't make it good."

"Well, would an apology make it better?"

No, Max answered silently, but forced a smile in punishment for not keeping her thoughts in-check. "It would help," Max said in a grudging voice.

"Alright, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For not liking your hair- the fact I didn't seemed to annoy you last night."

Max's grip on her coffee mug tightened till she worried the mug might break. But what she really worried about was breaking was Logan's neck. How dare him not like her hair?

And doesn't this man have any sense? Was she such an air head that she could only think about her hair!

"I really like it," Logan added almost desperately.

Looking at Logan, Max saw a pained look cross Logan's face. "Don't sweat it- it's cool," she said, pitying the squirming man sitting in front of her. Still seeing a desperate look on Logan's face, she added, "I don't like it either."

"You going to grow it back, then?" A relieved look passed over Logan's face.

"Course." Max smiled thinly. "So what you got for me?"

"Hover drone footage," Logan said, clicking a final button and a screen popped up.

Max watched the screen as a white van pulled up and nineteen people were loaded off and into a guarded compound with chains hindering their movements, chafing at their wrists and ankles. The chains were linked so the prisoners were hunched over and looking into the butt of the person in front.

The room suddenly seemed too small. Max's anger was growing by the second, each intake of breath absorbing anger. She could scarcely watch the chain of people be prodded into the compound with tazars.

Furious at what she saw, Max took a tasteless sip of coffee, not even noticing the liquid scalding her tongue.

"I need co-ordinates, times and dates of that footage "Max's voice sounded nasal with anger.

"Just getting them." Logan sighed with relief as he heard Max back up and begin pacing, each footstep creating a large 'thump'-ing noise. Scribbling hurriedly on a scrap of paper, he handed them over to Max.

"Right, I'll assemble a small group and tonight we'll head over to see what we can find."

Without a backwards glance, Max walked away, surprised her mug was still in one piece, and nearly collided with Alec. He had been leaning against the doorframe casually, eavesdropping.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Max snapped while brushing past him.

"Same thing you are."

"Oh."