Part 28

Look what the cat dragged in


AN: Should Ffnet go down for a longer period of time, you'll find new parts on my site (link in the profile). And please leave feedback, positive or negative. I do write for the pleasure of it, but feedback gives me a boost. ;)
bigparola@yahoo.com

Dancinstar's comments improved this quite a bit. ;)

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For a while, Zack followed a pissed-off Max as she walked briskly through the streets. He even thought about catching up, about trying to convince her that she was better off without this...Logan guy. But the sadness he had seen in her eyes earlier stopped him. He knew she was hurting, but he had no idea how to help her. After walking a block, it occurred to him that she wasn't headed to the ramshackle house they had been squatting in for the past two days, and he slowed down.

How much did he really know? What if she was right? What if the strong irritation and unexplainable animosity he felt toward this name, Logan, was nothing but another Manticore trick? It was almost worse than the hate he had for Lydecker, building up in him at every mention of the name. And the thought of Logan and Max... Zack looked up, trying to find something, anything that would distract him. He viciously kicked an empty carton out of the way, just one of the many littering the street, and it flew high, only to thunk against a solid metal fence. The sound of what under different circumstances could have been a mortally wounded enemy helped sober Zack up. This rage of his was getting ridiculous. He was starting to be ridiculous.

Zack looked ahead, trying to see where Max had gone. Moving quickly ahead, with a grace only she could have, she was about to leave the deserted street and disappear around a well-lit corner. She probably hadn't looked back once.

Zack stopped, unwilling to follow. Max was Max. She had been his second-in-command, the one he could trust, unless emotions got in her way. They had been a team and it all reached back to a time long ago. He probably should follow her lead, go with her and protect her. But it was obvious she didn't want him to. Did he really want to follow? Was being a soldier and a brother enough, since she wouldn't allow more?

Sickening doubt crept up on him as he asked himself about the emptiness he felt. He suspected it wasn't linked to the few memories still missing, or to the anger surging through him. There had to be more than just anger in this life, more than just fighting. He'd have to figure out for himself what it was.

*

Max strode through the streets, angered at her outburst in Zack's presence. It hadn't been her intention to tell him that much. 'A soldier always plans ahead, X5-452,' Lydecker's voice kept ringing in her ears. 'Brilliant planning,' she snorted at herself. Her emotions had gotten the better of her once again, in front of Zack of all people. She bit her lip and looked down, furious with herself. The damp heat of the pavement had come to life in the blurry light ahead and slowly rose to her in shiny vapors. A female fog bank. Just that and nothing else. She had tried to peek out of the fogbank tonight and the emotionality of it had taken her by surprise. She wasn't supposed to feel it. She didn't want to feel it. And yet...it was there.

Max turned around a corner and looked up, wondering at the lone streetlight that threw shadows in front of her. Behind her, Zack was nowhere to be seen. They'd meet back at the house, she supposed, unwilling to return until she had cooled off and found a solution for her situation. At a moment like this, she found herself longing for the Space Needle. But around here, the houses were small; everybody would see her sitting on the roof. The street opened into a small plaza in the center of which an ornate fountain served as garbage dump. Here and there, several wooden booths sprinkled on the sides of the plaza reminded her of mushrooms. Max chuckled at the absurd thought. It would probably be a well-populated area in daytime, maybe a market of some sort. Even now, with the curfew near, there were a few people hanging around. Max smiled, noticing the sleazy types whistling behind her. A bit of an ass kicking would be a definite mood booster.

"Hey, honey...Come, let's share the sweetness..." One of the catcallers looked to be of the worst type and Max half-turned, glad for the distraction.

"Sure, sweetiepieeeeeeeeee..." The words dragged out and ended in a muffled "ouch" as Max went down, face first, steadying herself at the last moment on the object that had tripped her: a girl's outstretched legs.

Loud laughter boomed behind her, but the slimy offers of help barely reached Max's ears. She was too busy scrutinizing the girl sitting on the sidewalk, her back leaning on the shabby wall of an uninhabited house, legs stretched out in front of her.

"Damn," Max cursed and straightened up, angry at her own sloppiness. The culprit was still sitting in the same place. A wisp of blonde hair reached over the girl's face, and more hair, of a brown shade, stuck out in several directions from under the washed-out jeans cap. Streaks of dirt made anything else barely recognizable, but a pair of green eyes looked up pleadingly, making Max relent.

"What'ya doing there, kid?"

"I'm not a kid!" was the grumbled response, eliciting a smile from Max, who was now squatting in front of the half-blonde girl. She must have been about thirteen years old, maybe even fourteen.

"How about a name then?"

Silence and a scalding look were the only answers. Only now did Max notice a few bruises and some dried blood under the hair. Looking down at the legs, a dirty, faded bandana wrapped around a knee caught her eye.

Even though she didn't have her back turned to them, Max's squatting position had encouraged the catcallers to approach and jeer some more, hoping to get a better view. Reassured that the girl wasn't hurt too badly, at least physically, Max was pondering if she had been tripped on purpose or not, when she noticed one of the three men nearing to only a few feet away.

The girl's eyes involuntarily widened and Max took that as a sign to slowly rise to her feet, slightly swaying for more effect. One moment she was winking at the girl, the other she was already facing the three leering men.

"You lost something, honey? Maybe we could give it to you," the bearded one chuckled.

Max smiled sweetly, as if relieved. "No, not really, but I think *you're* gonna lose something."

A swift kick in the groin sent the bearded man to his knees, but the other two jumped Max from both sides--one trying to grab her longish hair, the other going for a choke grip. A curse escaped Max, who silently promised herself she'd get a haircut. But before the two could grab a serious hold, their heads clunked together with a thud and a well-placed kick sent them flying next to their mate.

Disgusted, Max wiped her hands off on her jacket and grumbled. "Even if I had a bad hair day, that's none of your business."

Behind her, the girl chuckled, her eyes large in wonder. "That wasn't bad."

"Yeah, well, next time I'll wear a wig." Max grinned, her mood seriously improved by the quick fight. The almost healed arm hadn't caused any problems, either. She eyed the girl, in sympathy, and yet wary of her role in the little skirmish. "Can you get up?"

Max extended a hand and the girl made a grab for it, when suddenly the streetlight was covered by a shadow and Max reflexively turned, encountering an arm with a knife. The bearded man had recovered, but not for long. The struggle took mere seconds before the man's arm was propelled forward and the knife whizzed through the air over the girl's head and lodged into the wall, shortly followed by the man's head.

"Ouch!" the girl cried out, staring alternatively at the knife in the wall over her head and at the man crumpled in her lap.

"Come on," Max prompted. "He doesn't need a pillow."

The girl stood up, shaky at first, holding on to Max's arm to step over the bearded thug and then hobbling along with her. Max looked around. There was no one else on the street at the moment, other than the three crouching victims of her anger, but that didn't mean they should stick around. Glancing at the blonde limping along next to her, Max made a last attempt.

"So, if you don't want me to call you 'kid,' how about a name? I'm Max."

Green eyes looked up impishly. "Call me Kittie. Just Kittie, with two 'i's."

Max grinned involuntarily, which brought her an accusing stare from Kittie.

"What were you doing there, anyway, sitting on the sidewalk?" Max prodded, curious about the girl.

"Just resting." Sullen silence followed and Max sighed.

"Will you at least tell me who put the rainbow on your face?" They had turned into a somewhat fancier street now and the blue-tinted swelling was more noticeable in the bright streetlight.

"If you tell me how you got those three down on their knees in 30 seconds," Kittie countered.

"I've got moves, learned to fight early on. That's all." Max glanced sideways at Kittie, not sure if she'd buy the half lie, but the girl was all excited and didn't notice.

"Would you show me?" The words didn't come out as a plea, as Max expected, but instead out of wariness, as if the girl doubted the right to ask.

"Girls kick ass, you know that, don't you?" They both smiled. "So spill, what happened today? Tell me and I'll show you a few moves," Max coaxed. She didn't know what prompted her to ask about the girl's day. After all, she'd be gone in a short while, back to Seattle, where rumor had it that transgenics were fighting for their lives. Maybe she needed to take her mind off her problems. Or maybe it was Kittie's stubborn refusal to talk in the first place that had kindled Max's curiosity.

Cutting deals, that was something Kittie understood and approved of. In a matter of minutes, they were strolling through what had once been a park, not caring about the damp grass, the garbage piles or the noises of scurrying rodents here and there.

Kittie's hurt knee made any extensive exercise impossible, so Max showed her how to kick a man where it counted and to squirm away when gripped. Soon, girly giggles and cheerful laughs echoed through the badly lit park.

"I'm still waiting, you know," Max prodded after a moment of silence, thinking of sending the girl to her crib and returning to face Zack.

"Oh, that," Kittie reluctantly answered. "Well, I was walking downtown, you know, where all the big shots have their shiny offices, and there was suddenly a lot of smoke and a car came screeching to a halt right in front of me."

Max nodded. "And?"

"And that was it." Kittie pursed her lips and moved her foot, trying to squish a strand of grass into the humid soil.

Max had to wonder about her own sanity for a moment. What had possessed her to offer help in the first place, she couldn't imagine. Maybe a hunch that the girl worked for the three sleazebags. Annoyed, Max turned to go.

"Wait!" Kittie exclaimed. Seeing that Max intended to leave, she conceded. "I kinda got hit by a car."

"Kinda? Listen, kid, you either tell me or you don't. I got my own problems."

Max' tone had lost its softness as Kittie noticed, and she was back to calling her "kid" again. Kittie hurried to explain.

"Well, the car was smoking and it would have hit me, but there was this guy who pushed me away and we fell. Hurt my knee. Then the car exploded and I got some stuff flying at me; hit my head, too." Kittie was almost whining, but Max's calm attitude told her it wouldn't get her far. So she continued, pensive. "They said it was an accident, but it sounded more like a bomb."

Max looked at Kittie, amazed. This was the last thing she had expected to hear. She had anticipated a puny scheme with the three scumbags, using the girl for a little game of "rob the passersby," not this. She eyed the girl suspiciously. "They, who're they?"

"The suits who came out of the building and took everyone inside. The man who pushed me told me to run, and I did. I've been hanging around the area the whole day now. They haven't come out yet. And a police car came and went right afterwards. Took care of the wreck." Kittie's eyes lit up in excitement as she recounted.

"What do you mean, they haven't come out? Where was this?"

"One block away from where we met. But you're right, I've been with you for a while now, maybe they got sent home," she mused.

"And you're sure you weren't just helping the three ninnies get to me?" Max asked. There was no way to be sure the girl wasn't blushing under the streaks of dirt.

"No way, those guys were creepy!" Kittie whispered and suddenly looked up to Max, glancing away after a second. "I gotta go, my momma's waiting."

Before Max could respond, Kittie had given her a quick hug and sprinted, still hobbling somewhat, briefly waving good-bye.

"Hey, be careful!" Max whispered after her, tempted to follow. "Momma, my ass," she muttered. That girl sure didn't act like she had a mother waiting for her.

Max turned, heading to the suburbs again, where Zack must have been waiting at the house for a while. They needed to talk and plan the return to Seattle. Maybe with the recently acquired "funding," as she liked to call it, she could get a new bike. In a sudden fit of inspiration, Max felt for the money Zack had swiped the other day and cursed silently. Her pocket was empty.


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Good? Bad? I know, I know. You all want to see the reunion. It's coming, and fast. ;)