Portrait of a Shattered Woman
Chapter 8
Escaping Reality: Part B
"Dead end or shall we climb the walls now?" – Faye Valentine
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The room roared around her. She needed to get out. She needed to get away, anywhere, as long as she was away from there.
She commanded herself to move. She commanded her legs to run, take her somewhere far away, but her body rebelled. She tried to be strong, but her legs gave beneath her.
It sprawled in front of her.
She kicked at it. She kicked to push the faceless, lifeless thing away. Pressing herself to the corner wall, she pulled her legs that had failed her in two respects to her chest and cried.
It wasn't the same.
What had she done?
It wasn't the same.
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The woman lifted to her toes and peered through the small window atop the metal security door labeled thirty-four. The hall was clear, but she was all too aware of the inconsistencies of first impressions. Faye rolled back to her heels and dropped her gaze to her watch, where the final digit shifted so that "11:59" stared back at her.
It was almost time.
Her escape as well as her anonymity depended on this job. She could not afford any mistakes no matter how small. Though, there was one factor that would play to her advantage, the man captured in her place. The night's deed would not be among those listed beneath Raven, but just another statistic collecting dust in the I.S.S.P. files labeled Homicide.
Unconsciously Faye's eyes slipped back down to her watch where the numbers remained unchanged. In less than a minute the security doors would unlock so that the patrolling security guards could change floors. It was that patrol that could cost her everything. Resting her weight on her toes, she risked a glance through the face size window, willing herself to match the halls and the adjoined rooms on the other side with the blueprints she had memorized.
Again, jade eyes lowered to her watch where the final digit rolled forward and midnight with all its morose glory lowered on the stairwell. For a moment there was nothing but the heavy breathes of silence, then the corridor filled with the echoes of bolts retracting from the security doors marking each floor.
The door edged open, but not without a dizzying amount of effort. Its heavy frame pressed into her left shoulder while she instinctively checked the hall for movement. Deciding it was empty, she stepped inside allowing the large door to slide back to its resting place, where it announced its annoyance with a resound crack.
Her body tensed at the sound. Through its half-lit window, the security door seemed to wink at her. Faye stood unmoving, searching the rasp of silence for a falter in its off-key symphony. The silence droned on untouched.
Before her a hallway stretched gray and unyielding in the lightless building. Never disturbing the soundless symphony, she moved through the building, legs hurrying to match pace with her mind that spoke of hallways and room numbers.
The wall to her left had become glass from her waist to nearly the roof. Behind it lay a room highlighted only by the occasional flicker of a light hidden behind a ceiling panel. Unable to distinguish any objects amongst the masses of shadows she moved on amongst rows of identical black doors lining both sides of the corridor where the same long windows spanned the distance between. Faye slowed by one such window. Inside the room was glowing a deep green as though a child's nightlight remained forgotten inside, soft but dark. Longer than it was wide, the room had a narrow table stretching across its center. Labeled bottles pressed against each other in the wooden shelf built above a cabinet on the wall.
Turning to continue onward, her vision was caught by something she had overlooked. A cylindrical container sat on the corner of the table, a cloudy substance concealed its odd shaped contents. A white cursor flashed on the black screen of the small laptop beside the container, awaiting commands from its owner who undoubtedly was near.
Her watch beeped. Faye was pulled from her thoughts of the abandoned computer, glancing to her sides, pressing herself to the wall as if someone was approaching.
When it was clear no one was coming, she continued down the hall until it opened into a wider room. She slowed. Three other halls junctioned into the area. To her left, built into the opening was an office, the side facing her entirely made of glass. A small dark keypad was built into the steal rimmed edge of the door that's center was made of the same glass as the walls.
Faye moved to the door, eyes ever watchful of the shadows that could produce guards. A slip of paper and a small flashlight were produced from her coat pocket. She read the numbers on the paper once. Twice. Then she punched in the code and waited as the door shifted in its frame, knowing this was a moment in which the old Faye would have winked to herself.
The building had been built with a clever mind to minimize the need for security, difficult to reach the top floor unnoticed, though not impossible. Four stairways and two elevators led to the forty-ninth floor, though only one flight of stairs located in the center of last accessible floor lead to the fiftieth. The only times the door was unlocked security guards would be nearby.
She stared up at the ventilation duct above the desk centered boldly in the middle of the room. It would be the only way to avoid the guards without a diversion. Faye stepped atop the table, sticking the end of the flashlight in her mouth, and slipped her fingers into the vent grate. She yanked, but nothing happened. She tried again, the metal slips digging into her fingers, but it remained in place. This time she pushed, the vent bending slightly beneath her, but still stubbornly refusing to move as it made squeaking noises of laughter.
White light, bright and horribly pristine began to grow in the hall. Faye pressed again, this time more urgently, slapping one hand against it. The grate remained in place.
Faye leapt from the table, moving towards the wall bordering the hall. Only a few steps away from the table one heeled boot caught the other. Feet flying out from beneath her, she spilled painfully on the carpeted floor and watched as the flashlight, free of her lips, bounced underneath the desk leaving a trail of batteries. Knowing it was too late to retrieve the flashlight she pulled herself up, crossed the room in three steps and seated herself to the side of a file cabinet against the wall that separated the office from the rooms in the hall, knees drawn to her chin.
His shoes clicked suddenly loud on the linoleum floor of the hallway. A beam of light flooded through the glass burning away at the darkness. It moved slowly from one corner to the other, nearing her position. Faye pulled at her ankles trying to ensure that the tips of her boots were covered by the cabinet's small figure while mentally reprimanding herself for not being as flexible as she once was. The light rolled over the cabinet casting its shadow on the wall. She dared not move, ignoring the cramping in her leg the muscles knotted themselves further.
The light remained focused in the room.
Faye inched forward, head beginning to lean so that she could peek around the deep gray of the cabinet.
Something moved.
It was to her left.
Several times she blinked trying to form a coherent thought. It was . . . bizarre, to say the least. She squat there peering awkwardly up at the wall, wondering what the hell was going on.
Dark shapes leapt across the wall, small and clumsy, but by god, shadow puppets none the less. One of her dark eyebrows quirked. This was the part where she would usually erupt in laughter and begin a stream of insults, but it was just too . . . bizarre. At the top of the wall a dog was chasing a cat, stopping long enough to mark a painting in its territory.
"What ARE you doing?"
Lightning fast the light and shadow puppets were gone. A second voice began, lighter than the first. "I-uh...well you see there's-"
"No man." The first began again. "I don't really want to know."
Someone sighed then it was the second again. "I-I'd better make my rounds." The click of shoes returned to the air, probably that of both men. "So what's with the extra security?"
The voices had grown distant as though she were hearing them through the opposite end of a cave. "Don't know. Heard the management's been worried. . ."
Faye teetered forward on her toes, peering around the cabinet to catch a glimpse of the two guards halfway down the hall strait ahead. Their words were no longer understandable just a deep echoing mumble. Deciding they were far enough away not to discover her, she stood slowly having to keep her legs half bent to ignore the throbbing in her knees that waved into her calves. She retrieved the flashlight and batteries beneath the desk, stuffing in her coat pocket before climbing up to the vent. This time, when she pressed against the grate it lifted beneath her hands, no longer a trouble. However, the problem soon became how even with the added height from her heeled boots could she pull herself up, resulting in her nearly flipping herself upside down to throw her legs up onto the opposite side of the vent.
One of the batteries slipped from her pocket, narrowly missing the smooth skin of her left cheek as it fell to patter on the desk before bouncing on the floor and tapping against the glass wall. Where the battery had passed through the air a crumpled slip of paper floated, dancing about in excitement of its escapement.
"Go on! I'll catch up. Just gotta take a piss!"
Hollow eyes switched between the object on the floor by the door and the hallway where the guard, back to her, was waving the other at the end of the hall to go on. She couldn't leave the paper. She needed it to get out, but the building would return to complete lockdown in only a few minutes. The vent scraped across the inside of the shaft with a series of grinding noises before falling into place over the room, Faye having made her decision. She would get it on her way out.
It was smaller than expected, only enough room for her to lie flat in. She'd always expected from the movies she had seen that the vent would be large enough for her to crawl on her knees in. It seemed that movies always got things wrong. Faye slid herself through the dark shaft, each rap of her hands on the metal infinitely louder in the echoing around her.
It was funny how things changed. Spike and Jet were always claiming that she had been sloppy and left a trail, or rambling on about how it was a wonder she ever caught a bounty without their help. Now, they were searching for her, the one bounty that no one could find or had ever laid eyes on, and lived to tell about it. A part of her, something deep within her wanted to laugh, bristle even at the thought that they had always called her careless. She was taking so much care. This was something that had to be done properly, she couldn't afford to be careless during something this difficult. Another part of her almost smiled at the challenge. Of course, this was difficult, but this was still only minor compared to some of her more . . . "exotic" experiences.
Her breasts scrubbed against something sharp as another grate came into view, soft light piercing through its cracks like the sun through water. This was her exit. She lifted the grate and slipped through, landing at bottom of a set of stairs. She took them two at a time, fast at first; slowing as she realized that the architect had attempted to see just how many steps he could place in the area. Rounding a corner she knew he had achieved his goal. Faye finally reached the landing, the final door looming gray before her. She pulled her gun from its place in the inside pocket, pressing it to her chest as she maneuvered to open the door. The surroundings were suddenly becoming more crisp, awareness of everything growing as the remainder of her old self was sealed away and the mercenary known only as the Raven burst through the door into the office, gun extended before her.
It was large, two desks, boxes in the corners, she sliced it from her mind since it didn't matter. The lamp on the desk was on, but it didn't matter and was sliced from thought as well. Instead, she focused on the man standing behind it, back turned hands clasped together behind his back as he watched the night sky through the entirely glass wall. "I wondered how long it would be before they sent you."
Her finger twitched over the trigger, though she said nothing.
"I guess it was only a matter time before they sent someone." With agonizing slowness, as though he were underwater the man whose last name was Lilan turned to face her. There were a few wrinkles, she would have guessed late forties early fifties. His thick lips rolled upwards. "Didn't expect him to send someone famous."
Lilan just stared at her, hazel eyes flickering with something between anger and sadness. The woman made no reply just continued her steady gaze at the man, his persistent stare never waving even as she kept on staring, unmoved by his anxious acknowledgment. The silence droned on. She had no words for him, though her finger refused to the pull the trigger. He knew.
"Are you not going to shoot me? It is what you do best, after all."
Silence, then came Raven's raspy voice. "I do nothing."
He laughed. "It's an interesting bird, the raven is. It doesn't have a beautiful song. Its plain, blends in with everything. A difficult one to catch, but you and I both know that's not really why it's your name. Isn't that right Faye Valentine?"
There was no fear, just a strange sensation in the back of her mind saying that this was not right. She willed her finger to move, to pull the trigger. It was easy. It was a simple task, but her finger refused. Her flat voice came, softer than she had anticipated. "How do you know my name?"
Lilan continued talking, there was no sign her had heard her. "They're not even too vital. All they do is watch the dead. They're the eyes of death, you know." He sighed, head shaking slowly as he ran a hand along his chin. "And now the eyes of death are watching me . . . should've known."
Eyes of death? She ignored it, voice still neutral, though louder this time as she spoke the words slower. "How do you know my name?"
"Faye, Faye, Faye Valentine." There was something strange in his eyes hazel eyes almost a mad, desperate glint. "Valentine...My Valentine..." Lilan turned, leaping, body crashing through the glass window, shards sparkling as it shattered and they flittered over the edge together. The woman hurried to the end of room, shards of glass crunching beneath her shoes as she craned to see over the edge.
Below, about fifteen feet down was a landing to a metal fire escape. Lilan had already lowered two landings. Raven lifted her gun, both hands clasping to help aim over the side of the building. She fired twice, both bullets cracking as they hit the landing and ricocheted into the darkness. Now three landings down, Lilan reflexively covered himself with his hands at the sound of the gun report, then paused his escape long enough to glance up at her. He locked eyes in a challenge and had the audacity to smile. A hand lifted and waved as he pursed his lips in a kiss goodbye to her. That was how the chase began.
Her response was to hop down onto the fire escape, gun in one hand as she began taking the stairs behind him. Several floors down she paused to watch the man leap from the rusted brown metal of the fire escape to a foot wide ledge on the side of the building. She leapt over the next few sets of stairs to the level he had jumped from.
It was mad. Even without her emotions, she knew that he was mad from fear. Adrenaline coursing his entirety, pushing him further, despite whatever reason may have had to say about it. He was entirely instinct and reaction. She knew. She was the same, only without the fear as the cause.
Raven threw one leg over the rail, then pulled the other over and flung her body into the air. Her face slammed against the concrete of the building causing her feet to sway on the ledge, the shuddering rising up through her legs so that her whole body wavered, arms flailing to regain balance. One hand reached forward grasping the nose of a lion carved out of the wall, steadying herself before climbing across its back to shuffle along the edge, eyes focused on the ridge beneath her that was almost invisible in the late hour of the night.
She reached the end of the wall, turning to follow around onto the other side barely in time to see Lilan leap the small alley below to the shorter building, almost twenty five feet down. He landed on his feet, though they gave beneath him, his body toppling over them. Slowly, he stood and leapt off the same edge, landing on the building's fire escape. The woman followed suit, hurrying to the larger area he had jumped from and stepped back dashing the few extra feet before jumping into the air. Like him, she landed off balance and tumbled across the roof, though she recovered quicker and began to close the distance between them.
Suddenly, she saw the man stop, froze, head lowered over the side of the railing, then he turned moving to the opposite side of the landing.
He had run out of room. The stairs had rusted off years ago.
Again the man glanced back at her, and then he leaned over the opening that would have lead to the ladder that would have lead down to the first set of stairs. He stepped through it, grabbing, as he fell, onto the side of the metal beam that had once supported the stairs and began to slide down. She stepped off the building, falling the short distance to the metal wired floor, and moved to follow him down the pole. She leapt.
She wasn't sure how long she held onto the pole, the world growing around her in a blur amongst the darkness as it bore into her palms and thighs undoubtedly sending ribbons of red spiraling. Her feet collided with another landing, though her legs were unprepared and gave beneath her. She sat there while only a foot away Lilan flipped himself artlessly over the railing, landing in a hapless, painful heap on the ground, where he lay gasping for breath before he stood, slipping and sliding across the slick pavement into the crowd of people.
Raven stood, ignoring the gashes on her left arm and leg and threw her body over the railing, air slapping her as she fell nearly three floors, body half rolling half bouncing off the front extension of the restaurant to the pavement. She stood, turning about to regain sight of Lilan. He was plowing upstream against the crowd of people wandering the streets, ignorant to the events unfolding. She burst after him, dodging the people, eyes locked between his shoulder blades, catching his eyes each time he turned long enough to see her.
She collided with a woman who began spurting out curses that were lost in the noise of the city as she ran onward, gradually pulling closer. She had not increased her speed.
They always thought they could escape. They always ran, though the predator, efficient as its job, would eventually catch up. No one could run forever. Those that were ignorant enough to try and fight the predator were always overpowered, their fear having crippled them. The predator always won.
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She pulled the gun across the floor to her side. It was the cause of her sickness. It was why she could barely breathe. It was why that thing . . . no, she couldn't look at it anymore. Those eyes, unflinching, locked on her. They were piercing her, judging her.
He had been a person once. He had had a family. He had been an eager father. He had been a brother looking out for his younger sisters. He had been a businessman. He had been . . . hehadhehadhehadhehad . . .
The gun was now resting in her lap.
She couldn't.
They were unblinking.
What had she done?
It wasn't the same. . .
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In front of her Lilan turned, darting into one of the alleys, the sides of his blue suit's jacket billowing behind him. She mimicked, watching him turn down another as he reached the end of the first. She followed, coming to an abrupt halt just inside the new alley.
It was a dead end.
The predator always won.
Raven lifted her chin, hair flipping behind her ears as she threw her weight to one leg and propped a hand on her hip, gun held loosely in the hand hanging beside her slack leg. "Dead end, or shall we climb the walls now?"
The man's head kept darting about in the shadows, and she knew he was still searching for an escape, a hiding place, a weapon, anything that might prolong his life if only a few extra minutes.
They all stalled.
The gun burned heavy in her hand. She couldn't lift it.
"It was worth a try." Lilan grumbled turning to face her with pale narrowed eyes though perhaps only from despair. "How many more?"
She tapped the gun against her thigh, just to remind him it was still there. "What?"
"How many more till those eyes of yours have had their fill?
The gun was heavy. Too heavy. It was so cold pressing beneath her chin.
Raven lifted the gun. "I don't know."
Lowering his head, his shoulders sagged in the dark and empty alley, utterly broken. The mysterious man with his arrogance that had taunted her, laughed at her identity was defeated. "They'll catch you, you know."
Her eyes squeezed shut. There were tears on her lashes. The gun was shaking beneath her chin.
She mumbled an apology.
She, too, had been a person once.
"You can't escape them." He shook his head, mumbling wildly, eyes flashing in the dim light, hoping to take pleasure in adding fear or anger to her in his last moments.
Stepping forward so that she could see him better in the dark, Raven spoke disinterestedly. "Haven't you seen the news? They already have."
BANG
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It had been a lively place once. Now, it was dead. The Bebop seemed emptier, darker, more sullen then she had ever remembered it when she returned. The shadows were more ominous with a moaning silence more offsetting than the night's events.
She stepped into the room, body going rigid at the sight of Spike seated on her bed, staring at his hands. Immediately her face was plastered with an unreadable look, eyes closing off from the world around her. Faye leaned against the door frame, one hand on her hip in fake casualness though it could not soften the sudden tension.
The bed squeaked as Spike stood, moving towards the door, pausing long enough beside her to fix her with a steely mud colored eye where a swarm of expressions swam in murky waters. Faye didn't notice. Without a word the bounty hunter continued out the door, neither speaking. Someone else, anyone else would have shuddered under the look Spike had given her, though her eyes were locked on the envelope he dropped on the floor, from where on the pearly cover laughed a black bird.
He knew.
It was over.
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Author's Note: Wow, so it's been a ridiculously long time since my last update to this. I know that no number of apologies can make up for it, though I am deeply sorry. My interest in this story had faded and I decided it best to take a break from it rather than force myself to work on it. Then we all would have suffered through terrible unthought out chapters and quick writing. Thankfully, the time off has been wonderful and I feel renewed and am able to continue. Sorry.
On a brighter note, I've taken several writing classes and am developing a new technique. Due to a "program" my teacher has introduced, I'm able to write better quality work in shorter time. It's a monkey mind vs. elephant mind kind of thing, so I hope to be able to make up for the lack of updates. By the way, the italicized writing is all flashbacks, er well she's not technically flashing back, but its about the same thing. This is a good chapter to pay attention to...hint hint, despite it being boring. Besides, LOL, The proverbial shit has hit the fan.
On a final note, I want to take just a minute to thank everyone for their support through this time. I can't thank you all enough for the kind words. I love you guys. And as always, critical feedback and general feedback are welcome. Seriously guys, I LOVE you. See I can be serious sometimes. :P