This is the second of two chapters loaded today. --elle
Chapter 72
Upstate New York
Through the binoculars, the place looked deserted. Matt had been watching now for almost an hour. The isolated building… looking as if it might have been an old brewery once upon a time sat on deserted property amongst some lightly forested rolling hills. Matt could not feel any other immortal in the area… but then he and the women were likely too far away.
He glanced up as Amber approached and handed him a bottle of water. "Thought ya might be thirsty," she said.
"Thanks." Matt grasped the bottle, opened it and downed about half of it. He rubbed one hand across his forehead to wipe at the light beads of sweat. "It's hot for this time of year."
Amber crouched down and nodded. "Any movement?"
He shook his head. "I think it might be deserted."
"One of us could find out."
Matt nodded. "Who gets to play bait."
Amber grinned. "That would be me, I think. You and Katya are likely much better fighters… and older. It would be you two they might most be interested in. I'd need ya two to help rescue me." She'd listened to the two of them talk about the medieval England they'd grown up in hundreds of years ago… and the immortals they'd both known over the years. Amber had felt a little out of her depth with these two… They even made Connor seem young.
Matt chuckled, "Somehow, Amber, I don't think you'd ever need rescuin'." His soft southern drawl was still there… but the longer he spent with the two of them… the more elusive it became… as if the southern gentleman he'd been portraying for the FBI in recent years was gradually fading away. He handed the empty bottle back to her. "You goin' now or waitin' until dark."
"I don't think waitin' will do me any good if they are really and truly there… but I don't think they are."
"I don't either." Matt raised the binoculars to regard the deserted building once more. Finally he sighed. "No time like the present."
Amber grinned. "On my way." She rose and, hugging the trees and underbrush, made her way around the preimeter.
Katya laughed from further back. "That girl has enthusiasm!"
"The foibles of youth," agreed Matt. "Were we ever so young?"
"I was… young and foolish."
"She had a good teacher, though. I met MacLeod once."
"Connor?"
Matt nodded. "The other one too, Duncan. But it was Connor who made a real impression on me."
"Why is that?"
"He had an intensity and seriousness about the game that made you think he'd find a way to survive… no matter what."
Katya moved forward and took the binoculars from his hands as she watched Amber's progress. 'I wonder what happened to him exactly. I heard he was dead… but no specifics."
"I have a feeling she knows… It might be the reason she wanted to see this place so badly… see for herself what went on here that changed him."
"But he died in the city."
"Physically… so I heard."
"There she goes." Katya laughed and handed the binoculars back to Matt. "Think I'll get ready in case she needs some help. She rose and crept back towards their hidden car. Matt could hear her stretching and going through a light workout… just in case.
Looking through the lenses, Matt grinned as the young woman sauntered up to the building, whistling some Irish aire she knew. He chuckled, "You do have gall, Amber Conroy!"
She vanished into the building. Ten minutes later she re-appeared, whistled sharply and motioned them down. Evidently the coast was clear. Matt rose, waved and walked back to the four-wheel drive vehicle they'd rented. He hopped in as Katya started the engine and drove down the hillside and along the gravel road to the front of the building.
"It's deserted," Amber said as they approached her. "Looks like it's been deserted for years. It smells like old death."
Matt nodded his understanding. He was familiar with buildings that had hosted old crimes. If they were bloody enough… the smell of blood lasted long after the scenes had been cleaned. But when he entered… he realized this place had never been cleaned. They'd likely just removed the bodies… and moved on.
In a dark sub-terranean room all three stared at a dozen strange gurneys, that tipped vertically and bore signs of heavy restraints. The death smell was strongest in here… and Matt could smell not just blood but the putrid smell of rot and waste.
Katya kicked at something on the floor then crouched near it to examine it. She picked up a syringe and sniffed. "I think they may have used the same drugs on them they used on us. It smells familiar.
"No!"
Matt turned to regard a distraught Amber.
"He said they were friends… that this was just a chance to leave the game for a while… to rest." Amber turned. "This isn't rest… it's torture!"
Katya rose and hugged the younger immortal… attempting to comfort her as she wailed and stamped. Connor had inspired great loyalty in his students. The few Matt had met over the centuries told him that much.
"Let's look elsewhere," Matt motioned for Katya to bring Amber out of here. He was sorry she'd seen this… that the last of her illusions about what had happened to her teacher had been dashed… but honestly… Matt had seen worse… and some of it done by their own kind. From the look Katya had given him… she had, as well.
In a darkened room that might have been an office or file room at one time… they found only empty and open drawers.
"When our Watcher friends left this place… they took their records with them," Matt murmured. His flashlight played over the walls… resting at last on a torn map of the world still hanging on the wall. He crossed to it but saw nothing interesting. He lifted it and shown the light on the wall behind the map to be certain he wasn't missing anything.
"Wait!" Katya cried out. "There are pin holes in the map.
Matt shown the light on the front side and look and felt the surface of the map closely; his fingertips finding one pinhole in Northern Mexico.
"No… lift the map and go behind it… Shine the light from the back side," Amber said.
Matt nodded and did so. Katya and Amber grabbed pen and paper and began to write down the coordinates of the pinholes.
"One is here… upstate New York. Maybe that means these other holes were other Watcher Sanctuaries or facilities."
"If we can get these locations out to your friends, Katya… we might be able to put a stop to some of this."
"Absolutely," Katya smiled with determination. Let's see what else we can find around here and then we'll use that fancy computer of yours to get the word out." With that… the three immortals re-doubled their search efforts.
They found nothing else though, the map had likely been left because of it's size, it's ripped state, and the fact that whoever had removed everything else, had not considered there would be any clue of their activities on a map of the world.
That night at the motel, Matt set his computer up and he and Katya began contacting everyone they knew with the coordinates they'd written down. Amber did a food run, returning with a bucket of chicken and a twelve pack of beer. She settled down on one of the beds as the other two worked out their next step.
"The closest one is in Mexico," Katya said.
"That's not exactly friendly territory these days."
"All the more reason to check it out. The coordinates suggest it's in a desert area."
"I still say let's go to California first. Let's deal with the ones here and then move out."
"Maybe you should wait to hear where the others are, and what they find out," Amber spoke up from the bed. She picked up the remote and shut the television off as the other two looked at her.
"We don't know precisely where anyone is… that's the advantage of email."
Amber pulled the quilt up around her and scrunched down in the bed. "Then let them tell you which one they'll head for. Problem solved." She turned out the bedside lamp and closed her eyes. She was tired… and she wanted to sleep… and not dream.
Matt chuckled. "She's right, you know. If we just get the info out there and let others choose where they'll go… instead of trying to direct everyone from here… we'll likely have just as much luck as if we try to direct everyone."
Katya shot him a sharp glance and then shook her head laughing. "Fine… we've sent the word out… We'll wait until tomorrow morning and see if we get any feedback."
Katya rose and pushed Amber over as she climbed into the bed.
Matt chuckled. "I could sit here and let you have the other one… or you could share with me."
"Somehow I don't think so," Katya murmured. "Get the lights, will you."
Matt turned the lights out.
-----
Within the dream
The armies of the night clashed across the landscape. Beneath a violet sky, forked with lightning, the ancient Spartan warrior Kyra stood to one side watching the slaughter. The sword in her hand felt oddly light… as if it were not there at all.
"It is the end of days!"
Kyra stared blankly at the other immortal. Oriental… a middle-aged man… but not so old as she.
"You and I have arrived at the the Gathering. We are all who remain," the man continued. "I waited on holy ground until all were dead. Now we fight for the prize." He assumed a stance with his Chinese sword and smiled hungrily.
Kyra shook her head. "This is a dream… this is not real."
"It is real if I say it is real!" the man said haughtily as he attacked.
Dream-like… as if in slow motion… Kyra blocked his feeble strokes… until his sword flew from his hands and vanished into the violet mist swirling at their feet. She lay her sword across his neck.
"In the end there can be only one!" the man cried out as he fell to his knees.
Kyra stepped back. "Who are you? Or do dreams have names?"
"I am Kiem Sun," the other replied, leaning forward on one hand while rubbing his neck.
"Then where are we? How did we get here? If this is the Gathering… what happened to all the others?"
"What do you mean?" Sun leaned back on his heels.
"I didn't fight them? Did you?"
Kiem Sun shook his head.
"Then this is a dream."
"If we die in the dream… are we dead in reality?"
Kyra laughed. "I guess it depends who's doing the dreaming. Am I dreaming of you… or?"
"I see your point." As Kyra turned away to observe again the clashing armies of mortals fighting to survive… Sun noticed his sword re-appearing in the dust. He reached for it and stood.
Kyra turned back, staring at his blade. Slowly she dropped hers to see it vanish. Kiem Sun raised his sword to attack and then froze.
"Bah!" he lowered his blade and stalked about the small promontory.
"If we are all there are… then the winner will be alone," Kyra said. "That is no prize… it is Hell."
Sun paced back and forth, finally flinging his sword off into the distance. "It has been too long since I fought. I find I do not want your head."
"Nor I yours."
Kyra's sword flickered once more into existence at her feet. She ignored it.
"Is this my dream or yours," the Oriental asked stepping closely beside her, noting he sensed only her in this vision. Usually his dreams of the Gathering over the years had been of him facing and fighting all comers. He raised a hand to lightly brush her blonde hair.
Kyra shook his hand away and turned back. She noted that although middle-aged… this Kiem Sun was lean and muscular… she ran one hand over the thin silk of his shirt… aware of the rock-hard feel of him. Gasping she stepped back murmuring, "If we are all that remain… we can choose to end the fight so that neither of us is alone."
"And if this is a dream?" Kiem Sun asked.
"Then you are my dream."
"And you are mine." Kiem Sun reached out to pull her into an embrace, aware that she was doing the same.
He flew off into the purple sky. Kyra reached upward and screamed into the raining lightning as he vanished into the night.
Kiem shouted denial as his golden vision vanished in the darkening gloom of the dream. He was alone… and the prize was a lie.
-----
Watcher Compound
"What happened? Why didn't they fight?" Rawlins spat out as one of Wilderman's white-coated associates wheeled number 5 away. "They weren't friends… they didn't know one another. You said the scenario of the final fight would produce results."
Wilderman stared at the readouts and glanced at number 10. "For a moment… they were joined in the dream… not as strongly as number 47 and his unknown partner… but approaching it."
"What does that mean?" snapped Rawlins.
Wilderman ran the video one more time as the two figures fought and then cast down their weapons and began to embrace. He shook his head. "The Gathering… the final fight for the prize is supposed to be a biological imperative. That's what you said." He stroked his chin thoughtfully considering. "Perhaps it is something else… perhaps I need to re-write the program."
Rawlins leaned over the gurney, letting his eyes travel over the lax and sleeping form of number 10. "You will give up your secrets old one. You are the oldest of all I have… save two… and them I have other plans for them… I cannot use one of them at the moment… thus the other sleeps. You are likely closer to the secrets than all of the others. I will unlock them."
Pivoting he stormed out.
Behind him Wilderman ran the video again… seeking the answers. "Why don't they fight?" he murmured. "Why don't they fight?"