Apocalypse Nowish

Chapter 6-Lost and Found

A dark, solemn man sat on a small boulder, hunched over in deep thought. Before him stretched the dark ocean and the vast sky above him. Behind him sat an old red car; a red haired woman leaning impatiently against it with arms folded. The boulder was no further than a meter from the edge, with a sharp cliff beyond it. There was a chilling sea breeze blowing into Wesley's face as he watched the ocean intently; his thin, untidy hair blew lightly across his eyes. For the first time in a while he had done something to be proud of, now he took the chance to spend a minute alone in thought. He craved so much to be able to put his tortured mind at rest and just be blown away by the gentle wind, like a feather, free of weight. At the moment weight was in unwanted abundance; his soul was tormented every second of every day, with guilt, anger, remorse. Breathing the fresh night air gave him a deep dose of hope, hope for himself, and hope for humanity. So, he sat and stared. The blackness before his eyes was like an endless void of relief, the black water, the black night; they all bore specs of hope among the dark. The white horses of the choppy water were but a reflection of the starry sky. Wesley saw it now, he saw the way he hadn't cared, the way he had hated, and all though at the time it was all he saw he knew now that all those feelings meant nothing. People saw his face, and it sparked the cold. Wesley didn't want to be a puppet with hundred of little strings, all neatly labelled, fear, anger, love; he wanted to be free of those feelings, those feelings that can drive a man to any place, whether it be hell or heaven. And right now, as he breathed his last breath of true air and heard his last sound of breaking waves, he realised that those are the things that made us human. He smiled to himself, and saw it in the night's reflection; it cracked the mask he had been wearing.

He turned his back to the waves and headed towards his car. Justine pushed herself away from the car and stood beside it, waiting for him with a visible feeling of relief. The gravel of the old road crushed beneath his boots as he approached the car.

"Finally. What took you so long deep-and-thoughtful guy? Having a private party up there huh?"

"Something like that." Wesley replied, without lifting his gaze to her.

"Why didn't you just drive off? Escape?" He continued, walking past her to the driver's side and swinging it open. Justine followed casually behind him, running her fingers across the bonnet.

"Ummyou had the keys, dumb ass!" He sat down in the seat and turned his head to Angel. Angel was in the back, lying across the seats. He was looking a lot better and Wesley was glad he's got there in time. Angel had been saved, but not by much.

"I'm sure you're perfectly capable of hot wiring a car Justine." He replied, his eyes still on Angel. He reached over to the door handle and slammed close the door. Justine peered in through the open, door window and smiled with fake sincerity. Finally Wesley broke his stare from the stirring Angel and looked Justine right in the eyes. Justine was intimidated by his close, hard glare. "Maybe you didn't want to." Justine gulped when she realised where he was going. Had she changed? Had she seen the light, so to speak? She contemplated everything she felt in a few seconds and tried to glare back in to Wesley's hard eyes and justify how she felt. Justine's hair was blowing wildly in the wind and she looked into Wesley's eyes, about 10cm from her own. She tried; she tried with all the will she had inside her to say sorry, to finally come to terms with what she had done to Wesley but at the last moment she retreated from the window and stood about a meter from the car. She'd lost to herself.

"You know I can't say it Wesley. It wouldn't be me if I did." Wesley smiled at her, shaking his head as he did. He stared at the steering wheel in front of him, and, without looking back up at Justine, fished a bunch of notes out of his front pocket and threw them out of the window. They blew about in the wind shortly before resting by Justine's feet.

"Wh?" Justine muttered with a curved brow.

"It's for the dentil bill." Wesley replied as the engine revved up. He didn't look at her; he kept a sly grin on his face and his eyes firmly on the road in front of him. Dust blew across Justine's hunched figure as Wesley sped off into the night and she huddled over her bundle of money. As the trail of dust in the air settled, she said out loud, "thankyou.".

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A panicked figure ran down the moonlit footpath of an empty suburban street. Further down the road a man stood behind a broken window and watched her as she desperately ran for her life. The man made no attempt to move as he watched her trip over and land with knees to the pavement. He could have smiled with pleasure as he heard her whimper. She was strong though, stronger than many, and she ripped off her shoes and threw them on to the lawn beside her as she struggled back to her feet and began to run again. A loud crashing sound of broken wood came to the man's ears from below him. He looked down at the flattened door and at the figure that stepped upon it. His slick, black hair shone with the bright moon, and his neat, dark suit menaced his strong figure. He looked up to the man at the window and received a silent nod. The man below looked forward for but a second before sprinting to the side and speeding towards the racing figure ahead.

Lilah's leg pained her every step as she ran down the footpath. She was tired, scared, and hurting but it was her newly found strive to live cracked at her feet, pushing her forever onwards. She held the thick, heavy book to her chest and trod the harsh ground with her tearing socks. Tears were forming in her eyes as she ran something was coming for her and God knows what it would do if it found her. It had killed the guard to her books with ease, and that meant a lot; with a book this important Wolfram and Hart would not take chances.

Suddenly, just as she was considering slowing her pace she heard rapid footsteps from behind. For some reason her body just stopped moving and she turned her head to the fast approaching hunter. Headlights from a car touched her back as she stared in shock at the man heading towards her. He wore a dark suit, atop a white shirt with a blue tie. His cruel, unblinking eyes were locked onto hers as he came ever closer. The thing looked inhuman against the soft breeze, and with its eyes so unforgiving. She shook her head as the thing arrived within 30meters of her. She heard the car behind her and smiled with pure relief. 25 meters. Lilah quickly sped onto the road, in front of the car and waved her arms around. The car screeched to a halt just in front of her. There was only one man in it and he swung open the door and went to shout out to her. 15 meters. The footsteps became faster and louder in the silent night. Lilah quickly ran around to the open door, and, without even looking at the man, reached into the car and grabbed the keys out of the ignition. 5 meters.

"Wh?" Before the man could finish his single word he had a long, sharp key through his eye. He screamed out deeply and painfully into the night, and it echoed into the distance. Lilah ripped the key out and blood spurted out onto the road just beside her feet.

She had no time to think any more, her mind had gone into action mode. She grabbed him by the neck and pulled him out of his seat, dropping him beside her, onto the dampened road. Jumping into the driver's seat, she rammed the keys back in their spot and revved the engine. The man lay on the road beside her, sobbing with unbearable pain as blood flooded his face and the road. Lilah saw the man running towards the car, now only about three meters away. As she pushed down on the accelerator with all her might, he took a huge leap forward onto the bonnet. His face was staring right into Lilah's eyes. He sneered at her and, as the car sped forward down the street, climbed forward. He used his fingers as claws to pull himself forward; its strength shocked Lilah, as it managed to slam its fingers right through the bonnet. She began to swerve the car to throw him off but his fingers were firmly dug into the steel.

As the car neared the house it had all began at; she leaned to the side to grab a steering wheel lock from under the passenger seat. She wrapped her fingers around it tightly as small fragments of glass showered her side. As she was sitting back up she saw another one of the men, exactly identical, rush out from the flattened doorway. Her eyes widened with fear once more. She was beginning to doubt she was going to live. She looked forward again. The man on the bonnet had smashed his fists through the windscreen and his hands were almost close enough to touch the steering wheel. Lilah's heart was pounding as she raised the lock above her head and swung it down on the man's grasping fingers with full force. His face did not change emotion and he continued to reach forward. Glass smashed across her face from the left as she raised the lock once more, this time leaning forward and bringing it down on his skull. She heard a sickening crunching sound as the end of the lock sunk deeply into his skull. He held on for a moment longer before blood began to seep through his hair and pour out of his nose. His eyes closed and he rolled off the bonnet. The car did a little bump as it ran over his lifeless body. Lilah began to feel sick as she tried to concentrate on the road. All that blood, death, she couldn't handle it. Her vision became slightly blurry as her mind ached and her stomach churned.

A sudden noise fought off the sickness as the passenger door was ripped off its hinges. Lilah was silent, she didn't scream or cry, her mind was striving for one thing: survival. The man who had smashed the passenger window was now leaning in, beginning to get a good position on the seat. She couldn't reach him with the lock so she only had one choice. Both his hands were occupied, pulling him into the car, so she threw the lock, full force, towards his ugly, sneering face. He was instantly knocked back by its force and released his solid grip, falling limply to the ground and tumbling across the road. Lilah spied the three bodies lying across the wide street through the rear view mirror as she made a left turn. She felt sick from all the fear, revolt, and pain that had been branded in her mind from tonight. It was probably the most traumatising thing that ever happened to her. She peered down at her hands on the steering wheel; they were sprayed with thick, red blood and were a truly haunting sight. The car had suffered worse. The bonnet was littered with small holes where the man had shoved his fingers. Her half of the windscreen was missing, The door to her left was missing and there were little crumbs of glass all over her and the seats. Her mind began to turn to the many thousands of questions that had arrived during the last hour. There were far to many to consider so she shifted her thoughts to one. Who, or what, were the things after her?

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"Alright kiddos, hows about filling Lorne in on the solemn little secret you've got hiding under your skin?" Lorne said, as he dropped his scarf onto his suitcase beside him. No reply came from either Gunn, in the driver's seat, or Fred, in the passenger seat, and Lorne took the pause in conversation to strip himself further of his other bits of useless clothing he'd worn to not scare the living daylights out of people. Lorne stared into the rear view mirror and saw Gunn's eyes looking right back at him. As Lorne threw his black, leather gloves to the floor he kept his eyes firmly on Gunn's, and he saw the reluctance shine threw before he managed to speak. "I hate to be the one to tell you this, but, we've got a missing persons situation on board at the moment. "Said Gunn, turning his eyes back to the road. Fred practiced being a statue with her eyes glued to the road, letting Gunn do the talking. Lorne nodded understandingly before flashing a quizzical look and responding with a dumbfounded, "huh?".

"Well, what I mean isThey're all gone."

"What? Who's gone?" Fred finally broke her vow of silence and stillness when she turned around to face Lorne.

"Everyone" She sighed.

"By everyone, you don't mean"

She nodded solemnly and looked down at the floor.

"Angel, Cordy, Conner, Groo! All of them gone, and not a sign." Gunn filled in. Lorne was sitting in the middle of the three back seats and set his gaze onto the road in front. He stared intently for a second before replying with a blunt, "bummer". Gunn nodded. "It's been hell for us."

"Every day we've been following up the few leads we've had to no avail." Fred continued for him.

"I can see why you were so happy to have me back. Well, I'll see what I can do tomorrow." Lorne replied, adding a yawn and lying back against the seat.

"Yes, I think you should rest." Fred said, a little unenthusiastically.

"I'm agreed on that one." Lorne replied, staring up at the car roof. Fred was secretly disappointed in Lorne's cool response to their problem. She had always pictured him getting extremely angry or depressed at something like this, so when he was a able to shrug it off for the sake of a good night's sleep it made her feel a little resentful. Still she stopped herself from showing any signs of the thought, after all; she had no idea what had happened over in Vegas. He mightn't have slept for days.

He opened one eye when he felt an anxious vibe from Fred and saw her looking at his suitcase grimly. Lorne put a warming smile on his face.

"First thing tomorrow I'll check out every source in the book. I assure you Fred, from tomorrow morning I won't rest until I find something. We'll find them, one will lead to the other, you'll see."

Fred looked at him thankfully, with the sincerest smile she could muster.

"It's just a little hard to be optimistic when you've spent the last four days searching and not finding."

"Damn straight." Gunn added.

"I see now why you were all obsessive with the phone calls. I'm really sorry about that, not being able to talk long I mean."

"Have you asked Wesley on?"

"No." Said Gunn, cutting off Lorne's question.

"I see." He said with an exasperated look present on his face.

"Well," said Lorne, stretching his arms, making himself more relaxed in his seat, "it's still great to be home. Even if it isn't the home I expected."

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"What do you want from me?" Conner managed to say through his rushing breaths. He was breathing heavily with pain and even the smallest action such as talking added weight to his suffering. Conner was leaning against a concrete wall with his wrists and ankles bound to it by chains. It was a small room, with no windows and only one, closed, steel door. A couple of meters in front of Conner, Gavin was sitting on a small wooden chair, in front of a bare wooden desk. Behind the desk, in either corner, stood two, unmoving men. They stood to the shadows of the corner and their face could not be seen. The only light in the room was a bright lamp on the desk, facing towards Conner. Gavin was hunched over, with his chin resting on his palm, and his elbow on his knee.

"Yes, Conner. You are here for a reason. We will get to that later." Gavin said, standing up and beginning to pace backwards and forwards in front of Conner. "Tell me now." Conner spat, trying to sound as demanding as possible with his weak, tired voice. "Surely you should realise that you're not here to ask questions. You're here to answer them. You have noticed upon waking that you are dreadfully pained." Conner sneered hatefully and kept a cold glare on Gavin as he spoke. "Of course, with you being famously indifferent to pain, I added an extra touch."

"Why?"

"It was necessary to ensure that you had little power to resist. Of course, I don't want to hurt you, your Angel's son." Conner glared as he watched a cruel smile spread across Gavin's face.

"And you're his enemy." Conner said, a little more calmly. Gavin let out a small laugh. "Thanks for that. I rarely laugh." Conner smiled at his pathetic remark.

Gavin cleared his throat before continuing. "How about I tell you what I want and what you'll get in return."

"Sounds reasonable." Gavin smiled.

"I'm being very reasonable here. I can imagine what could happen to you if someone else around here found you."

"You didn't find me."

"Let's talk about Angel." Gavin said, ignoring Conners last comment and throwing him into the real subject.

"Why?"

"He's very valuable to us here at Wolfram and Hart, and, as you probably know, he's been missing for a very long time."

"What am I, psychic?"

"Don't play with me Conner. In this situation, well, let's just say, it could only end badly."

"It started off pretty bad."

"I know that you know where Angel is." The weak smile that was growing across Conner's face suddenly disappeared. Gavin really had no idea about what Conner knew but he knew the tricks of the trade. The best way to make someone talk was to make them think they had no way to lie.

"How would you know anything?" Said Conner, anxiously. Gavin leaned against the desk and smiled cunningly.

"You're lying!" He tried in desperation.

"Hey! I'm a lawyer!" Said Gavin before bursting into laughter. "But I'm also a man of my word. Are you?"

"Angel told me all about you, never trust them, he said." Gavin pouted sarcastically. "Well, last I heard you weren't exactly in with trusting your Dad."

"Please, feel free to call him Angel."

"WHERE IS HE?" Gavin shouted at the top of his lungs. Conner stared at him until he clicked his fingers loudly. One of the men from the corner of the room walked forwards, into the light, and stood in front of Conner. The man had a jaded face and wore a brown leather jacket.

A minute later and Conner still hadn't spoke. Gavin sighed at him and shook his head in a disappointed manner. The man stepped forwards and pulled out a knife. He twirled it in his fingers before striking it downwards, through Conner's shirt and less than a centimetre away from his skin. The knife ripped down the centre of his shirt, tearing it open. His shirt was sliced down through the middle and Conner took the chance to glance his painful chest. His eyes widened with horror as he saw the blotches of black and blue that littered it. It was now no mystery why it was so impossibly hard it was to breathe. The pain got worse, as it always does, when he saw the bruises, and it became even more painful with every torturous breath. The man kept his eyes off Conner's face as he lowered the blade of his knife to Conner's chest. Conner shivered as he felt the cold metal touching his bare chest. The man kept it gently resting on his skin, which seemed to drag out the fear.

"Alright, Conner, let's try this again shall we? Where is Angel?" Conner looked down at the knife on his chest, and felt the burning sensation that already throbbed through his mind. He sighed with lost honour and pride.

"There really is nothing I can do." He said, with a disheartened look on his face. "He's in the water."

"What?" Said Gavin, a confused look on his face.

"Yes, the sea, the ocean." Gavin finally started to think about his answer.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I sealed him in a container and dumped him."

"In the ocean?"

"Yes, off point Dune." Gavin stood up straight and smiled with pure joy. He could not believe his luck, a promotion was now ensured. His accomplishments would now make him a minor legend around Wolfram and Hart. Not only did he find and capture Conner but he found Angel as well. He'd found the two things Wolfram and Hart desperately wanted.

"I was really hoping to keep him there." Said Conner, still looking at the concrete ground. Gavin signalled the men to stay outside and walked out the steel door without taking another glance at Conner. "Hey! Wait! Let me go! You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!" By the time he'd screamed out his last sentence the steel door was closed and there was no one left to hear his shout but himself. The lamp was off and he could see nothing but pure darkness around him. Conner was ashamed at himself now that the knife was no longer on his chest. He was ashamed at being so pathetic under danger, it wasn't fear that had got to him, it was hope. There was only one hope of getting free and that was to tell him. That hope was now dampened as he sat in the dark, empty room, with shame, despair, and gruelling pain.

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Lilah was still driving away form the street. Manor road, its name would ring fear in her mind when it was said. She had sped away desperately for the last twenty minutes, positive that she would look in the mirror and see a menacing figure sprinting behind the car. Finally, her mind and heart slowed as she escaped the horror by distance. The further she got the more clear her thoughts were, and now, as she parked the ruined car beside a suburban curb, her mind eluded the fear and rang questions endlessly within her thoughts. She was in a daze, and after the car halted to a stop she just stared out at the moonlit street before her. She was looking through the broken windscreen at the road and she remembered her last look of the horror. She could almost see the three men rolling around on the road in agony. She watched them writhe hopelessly within her thoughts and tried to ignore the sickening feeling that was stalking her mind. She gulped, swallowing her fear, and blinked. The image of the scattered bodies was gone, only the bare road stretched before her. She crawled over the passenger seat, vaguely feeling the glass beneath her knees. She stepped through the doorframe and stood up straight. She felt like collapsing but instead she watched the many crumbs of glass her laps had worn clatter to the pavement. She looked down at her feet, specs of darkness on her light brown socks barely visible through the darkness. She rubbed her forehead when she saw that her legs and feet were sprayed with blood. Whether it was her own that had ran down from the wound on her shin, or the blood from the man she had stabbed. She twisted her hands and looked at her palms. They to were splattered in blood. She really was about to feint then when something kicked in. She didn't know where it came from but suddenly she began to run, away from the wrecked car, away from the horror.

When she reached the next block she sat at a bus stop and pulled out her cell phone. Her hands were shaky as she dialled the numbers.

"Dillan? This is Lilah." She said, in a weak, strained voice.

"Because I know you will help. I'm stuck. Yes. I would like a car to come pick me up. Please, I'd be very grateful. Telosa St. The bus stop. Ok, great thanks!" She turned the phone off and dropped it back into her jacket pocket. She could have screamed with irritation just then. She hated sucking up to people to get something. Needing something from somebody else was bad enough.

As she waited for the car she tried to decide upon her next course of action. She picked up the thick book she had placed beside her and opened it up. It smelled of dust and looked to be one of the most ancient books she had seen there. She had no idea what the words on the wall were for but she was beginning to think whatever was coming was coming soon. She felt that there were some trying to kill her and others trying to save her. She was worried about the implications of whatever was coming from the beginning. She was on a quest, and she knew nothing of where it would take her. She was scared but at the same time determined. Suddenly, out of the blue, she realised what she had to do. She was going to borrow Wesley for a little translation.

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"Ah! The good old Hyperion. Do you know how great it is to be back? Very. In a depressing kind of way really." Lorne burst into a flood of emotions as he stepped through the hotel doors behind Fred and Gunn. He stood on the stairs and just looked around the lobby for a while. Fred and Gunn walked down to the reception desk and watched him with glad smiles present. Lorne took a huge, deep breath of the Hyperion air then smiled contently. "I'll go unpack, get comfy. Don't worry Fred, I'm not going to sleep yet."

"You do that." Said Gunn, smiling and nodding his head. Gunn and Fred were both leaning against the reception desk as they watched Lorne lug his huge trunk up the staircase. As soon as he was out of sight Fred jumped around in front of Gunn, smiling joyfully. "It's so good to have him back isn't it?" They were both smiling and leaning closer to each other's face as they spoke. "Sure. But I could have managed with just you."

"Managed? Is that the best you can do?" She teased.

"Managed to love it." After this they were so close they could feel each other's warm, steady breaths. Fred leaned forwards and pressed her lips against his. They put their arms around each other as they kissed passionately. Their moment was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the front doors swinging open. What they expected to see when they turned their heads was far from what they got. The front doors were wide open and In front of them stood Wesley, with Angel. Angel had his arm over Wesley' shoulder to help him stand. He still looked pretty delirious although his eyes were open and he sensed all that was happening. The door swung closed again as Wesley stared at Fred and Gunn in eachother'ss arm, a concealed feeling of resentment present. Fred quickly let go of Gunn and ran over to Angel. Gunn noted that she seemed to let him go for the sake of Wesley.

"Angel!" She had the most sincere look of joy on her face as she ran up to him. She helped sit him down on the grey couch in the centre of the room and looked into his dazed eyes. Gunn walked over with an equally happy smile. "What's wrong with him?" He asked Wesley, without looking him in the eye. "He's been under the ocean for days. It's played with his mind, the lack of blood, the pressure, it eroded his sanity." A panicked, saddened look flashed across Fred's face. She had gone from overwhelmingly relived and happy to overwhelmingly sad and disheartened in the space of a few seconds. "Wha" She tried to form the sentence her mind was giving her but her voice was weak and shaky. "It's only temporary. Provided he is treated correctly in the pivotal first day or so he will be fine."

Although slightly relieved at this, she was pained that Angel had gone through so much pain. This was undoubtedly the worst she had ever seen him. He looked so weak and deprived. Floods of emotions were running through her as she watched the tortured eyes of the champion before her.

"Hold on, what the hell do you mean ocean?"

"You're not going to like it." Before Gunn could reply to that Fred flicked her eyes to Wesley. Now she felt anger seeping into her thoughts.

"Tell us." She demanded harshly. Wesley and Gunn were slightly taken back by her sharp, strong comment.

"Conner, Justine. They captured Angel and dumped him in the ocean, sealed in a metal container." Wesley could see the sense of betrayal evident on both of their faces.

"That son of a bitch." Gunn said, sitting down beside Angel and shaking his head.

"Why did he do it?" Fred asked, her eyes looked intensely onto Wesley's.

"Holtz faked his death to make it seem like it was Angel who had killed him. You could imagine what Conner thought of that." Fred was getting madder and madder by the second. "Bastard! At least his dead."

"All that time he spent with us, it was all a lie. He hated the lot of us." Wesley looked at him unsympathetically then turned his attention back to Fred. "He'll need a lot more blood."

"You're not going?" Wesley cringed at this remark, fighting the temptation to stay. He couldn't, not yet.

"I've done all I can." And with that remark he turned his back to the inhabitants of the hotel, walking back towards the door. It was then that Fred noticed the bandage wrapped tightly around his wrists, or more so the thick colour of blood that had soaked through it.

"Bu" Gunn grabbed her wrist to stop her and whispered, "leave it Fred."

She swallowed her urge to drag him back. Her life seemed to have a crack in it when Wesley was not around. The door swung shut and Fred and Gunn turned their attention to Angel. Angel turned his head to Gunn. "Gunn." He spoke softly. "That's right bro, you're back." He smiled and thought of the strangeness of how only 1 hour ago he and Fred had no one. Now they seemed to be finding everyone, or at least they are finding them. He ignored the threatening questions of Conner and Cordy and relaxed with the knowledge that Angel was back.