Chapter 2

A Shot In The Dark

Disclaimer: Yeah, Landmark owns it all. This is the same disclaimer you read all over the internet and web. Let's be truthful, though – this could have been a great show that Landmark and Mattel let slide into oblivion. Shame on them for being before their time in the entertainment business.

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Smoke from the fires still burning inside the base billowed into the jumpship's cabin as they brought Jennifer onboard. They secured her stretcher to the med bunk, where Hawk immediately went to work. There was urgency in his actions, as he began cutting through her khaki shirt. He picked through the seam of the powersuit underneath, carefully avoiding the inlaid circuitry. As he moved to cut the suit off her left arm, he stopped and picked up a scanner. Jon could tell without even looking at the scanner that her arm was fractured. The skin looked mottled with bruises, and there was a lump where the bone was pushed out against the skin.

Jon left little room for argument as he stood at the head of the bunk, refusing to leave her side. Scout and Tank stayed at a distance, all of them in fear of getting in Hawk's way as he worked to stabilize their pilot. He put Jon to use, moving his hand to hold a bandage over the deep laceration on Pilot's head.

Matt began scanning her for more injuries. Though Jon had the most basic of medical training, he could see the extent of damage. He knew what Jennifer had meant when she told him she was "all broken up inside."

"My God," Jon breathed, looking at the scanner. He stroked her head, pushing a strand of matted hair off her forehead.

"Tank, get us out of here," Hawk ordered. "Scout, contact the Passages and find us a doctor."

They complied with his orders. Power felt the shudder in the hull as the jumpship lifted off into the sky that was stark and black, the air chilly and lonely. He watched as Hawk covered Jennifer with a blanket.

"How bad is it?" Jon asked quietly.

Hawk checked the scanner for reference. "She's bleeding internally. Could be her spleen. I'm pretty sure she has a concussion, and her arm isn't looking too good, either. I can stabilize her for now using stasis, but that's not going to last. She needs a surgeon."

Scout turned in their direction from his station. "I have the Passages. Patching them through to your screen. You have about four minutes before Dread locks on to the signal."

Jon stopped Hawk's hand before it could activate the screen. Power's voice lowered. "How long can we count on stasis?"

Hawk hesitated but did not give false hope. "An hour, maybe a little more."

Hawk flipped the switch on the monitor. The screen blinked on above the med bunk. Lydia, the doctor they had helped months before, appeared before them. Her honey colored hair was pulled up high on her head, and she sat before the camera very much at ease.

"Major Masterson, this is unexpected," she said congenially.

Hawk gave no time for pleasantries. "Doctor, we have an emergency. We need your help," he told her.

The cheery disposition was replaced with concern. She straightened in her chair. "Tell me what you have."

"Our pilot has internal bleeding and a possible concussion. Some broken bones, as well. The stasis is slowing the hemorrhaging, but she needs a surgeon."

"Send me an uplink of your readings."

Hawk nodded for Scout, who complied with Lydia's request. She looked down, watching as the information was transmitted to the Passages. When she looked up again, Jon saw little hope in her eyes.

"Major, I'm not equipped to handle anything this serious here. We don't even have surgical supplies. If I tried to operate with what little I do have, I'd be killing her for sure."

Power stepped into view of the monitor. "Then where can we go?" he asked with resolution. He was in no mood for negative answers.

Lydia gave it a moment's consideration. "There's a resistance cell, supposedly located in the midwest. Look for Robertsontown. It's one of the larger settlements. We've not had any official contact with them, but we're sure they're there. Many have spoken of the 'Healer'. No one has ever seen him, but we've heard some amazing stories, ones we've been able to verify."

Hawk took another read with the scanner. "How do we find this 'Healer'?

"From what we gather, you don't go looking for the Healer. The Healer finds you."

Power felt despair creep through him like a chill, the lack of solid options angering him. After all they had fought for since the team's inception, they had not once asked for outside help. They had solved their own problems, with their own resources, managing to save lives in the process. Now, the one time they needed help, there was none available from the people they had risked their lives assisting.

Still, Jon was not in the mood to give in easily. "Is there anything you can do to get word to the Healer that we need help?"

Lydia's compassion and warmth shone in her eyes. "I'll do everything I can, Captain. In the meantime, do what you can to sustain her vitals. You're her only hope until you can find the Healer. Call me if her situation worsens." Then she added, "Good luck."

The screen blacked out as the transmission ended. Power looked down at Jennifer and watched as Hawk began using everything at hand in the medical supplies to give her a fighting chance, a chance to live.

Reluctantly, Power left Pilot's side and moved to Scout's station. "Where is Robertsontown?"

Scout was working frantically in the database. "Already looking for it. The closest match I've found so far is a Robertstown in the old archives. It's definitely midwest."

"And you think that's the place?"

"I cross-referenced its location between the archives and our own map database. There's not a whole lot between here and there, and I don't see any settlements as big as the one the doc was talking about. It's has to be Robertsontown."

"Scout, you have to be sure on this," Power admonished. "If we go to the wrong place, and this Healer isn't there . . . "

"Yes, sir, I know," Scout said, finishing the unspoken thought.

It was a gamble. Power knew it. Make the right choice, and Jennifer had a chance. Make the wrong choice, and she would die aboard the jumpship within a few hours. No matter how he weighed the options, they had to go with what they knew.

"Lay in navigation, shortest possible route," Power ordered, clapping Scout on the shoulder.

Tank prepared for the flight in the cockpit. "What about the gates? Dread has the codes. We could get jumped again if we use them."

"No choice," Power answered. "Lay in a course and get us there."

Jon returned to the medical bunk.

Hawk was working on Pilot's head, trying to stop the bleeding. "If we had a base, I'd feel a lot more confident. I could do something there. This rust bucket wasn't built to be a flying hospital."

"Anything I can do?"

Hawk stopped his work and looked up at Jon. A brief, sympathetic smile played on his lips. "Let her know you're here. Let her know she's not alone. I've done all I can for now. It's up to Jennifer to hold on until we can get help."

Then Jon was alone with her. Hawk drifted off to the cockpit to help with navigation. Jon was left to stand alone at Pilot's side. Carefully, he picked up her hand and held it in his. Her skin had warmed a little since they had found her, but death still seemed to linger so close that thought he could feel the feathery tendrils of its grip caressing his own hand.

Guilt washed over him again. He tried to push it away, but it came back with a vengeance. He refused to bow to it.

"You have to hold on, Jennifer," he whispered quietly. "There are things you need to know, but I want to say them when I can look into your eyes. We're going to find a doctor to help you, but you have to fight this. You have to do your part."

"We're preparing to enter the gate. Stand by," Hawk called.

There was a momentary feeling of buoyancy as the ship entered the gate. Jon felt disoriented but only for a few seconds before they exited on the other side. He still held Pilot's hand and swore he felt her grasp his fingers just briefly before they were slack and lifeless once more.

"On course to Robertsontown," Scout reported. "E.T.A. nine minutes. We're going to have to set down outside of the populated area."

Jon hated to leave Jennifer's side, but he knew it was necessary if she were to have a chance. He moved back to Scout's station. "We'll use the bike to make it into town. Scan for an area where we can land without being noticed."

The sergeant continued to work his console. "Already on it, Captain." He examined the results of his work. "Looks like there's an area just outside of town that doesn't have a lot of traffic. I'll keep an eye out on your approach. Right now, it looks pretty deserted."

"Seems like our best bet," Power concurred. "Hawk, you're with me. Tank, you and Scout will stay with the ship. If you see trouble coming, you're ordered to take off and do what you can. Hawk and I will go into town and find the Healer, if he's there."

Hawk rose from his place in the cockpit and walked toward Power. "What's the plan?"

"I wish I knew." Power shook his head. "We'll go in and see what we can find. If the Healer isn't here, we'll look for someone who can help Pilot."

Power began moving toward the hatch. Hawk stopped him by the arm. "And if we can't find someone?"

Jon's frustration and anger bubbled to the surface again. "That's not an option," he said with solid determination, his jaw tightening.

The landing area Scout had picked was desolated and dark. The only light came from the landing beacons on the underside of the jumpship. Hawk and Tank retrieved the sky bike from the hold and prepared it for flight.

Jon gave a final set of instructions to Scout and Tank. "Keep a channel open in case we need a quick exit."

Scout nodded. "What about Pilot?"

Hawk handed him the scanner. "Keep checking her. If the stasis begins to fail, contact us. I'll come back to the ship."

Scout accepted the scanner in his hand and looked at it. "Right."

Jon fired the engine on the sky bike and hit the throttle. It lifted into the sky with ease, carrying the two men toward Robertsontown. The trip was short, but it allowed Jon time to absorb what had transpired that day. In a short amount of time, the base his father had built had been destroyed, and for the first time, one of his team had been seriously injured. It was never an impossibility to him, but it also not something he had entirely envisioned. They had all taken painful hits from Blastarr and Soaron. However, they had all managed to walk away in the end.

Pilot could have walked away, he knew, but chose to stay. She had taken up Jon's cause, believing in him when she found it so hard to believe in herself. She thought of him as a sort of savior. The truth was that Jennifer was the one who had kept the team alive by her sacrifice. Jon could only to sit back and watch from a distance, knowing she had taken to heart the words he had spoken to her when he brought her to the team.

"What do you say we circle around and get a feel for the place before we land?" Hawk suggested.

Night had fallen, blanketing the sky in a shroud of darkness. The air was turning crisp as winter approached. The cloud cover provided adequate camouflage for the flight.

Jon began circling the town from high altitude. Robertsontown was not just a settlement. It bordered on a large town in its size, not the usual settlement size of most clusters of survivors. The inhabitants roamed the streets en masse as the nightlife began to stir. Jon could hear music playing inside the establishments even at the sky bike's altitude. Drum fires burned, accompanied by the flash of dazzling lights that emanated from the facades of the bars and shops. From the look of the foot traffic on the streets, the party was just beginning.

Activity on one of the side streets caught Power's eye, and he dropped down for a better look. Two men were brawling. A crowd gathered around them, hollering encouragement and cheers for each blow landed.

"Friendly little town, isn't it?" Hawk mused through the comm.

"Let's hope so, because we're starting the search at that bar."

"Seriously?"

"The Healer's not a public figure. He's resistance, and resistance in towns like this meet in places like that."

He sensed Hawk's dismay as silence lingered.

"Well, then," Hawk said, finally, "we better get to it."

They set down just outside of town and secured the bike to voice command. The air was decidedly warmer on the surface, and Jon welcomed the relief it brought. He was about to set off for the bar when Hawk stopped him.

"It's your call, but I think we better go in unarmed," he said, nodding toward Power's holstered pistol.

"And it could be a mistake if we don't bring weapons," Jon countered.

"We saw a fistfight from the air, not a shootout. I'm willing to lay odds there aren't a lot of weapons on hand. If we go in there armed, we'll be run out of town before we can even start looking for the Healer."

It was the last thing Jon wanted or needed to hear. Although the choice had been an easy one, the disappointment of not finishing the job with Blastarr when they had the chance was gnawing at him. He had no desire for a second helping of regrets, and that included ones that involved being outnumbered and maybe outgunned.

Still, Hawk had a point. The sight of weapons might ignite a confrontation before due time, and that was not something they needed. Time was running out to find help for Pilot.

"All right – we'll stow them in the bike. Just keep your eyes open while we're in there, though."

Hawk grinned. "I was going to do that anyway, my friend."

The crowds they had seen from the air provided a perfect way for them to slip into the town. It was easy to blend in with them, as loud music blasted from the doorways of taverns and specialty shops. The bar where Jon wanted to begin was a block away from where they had hidden the sky bike amid cargo containers.

There were several food vendors on the streets. The scents ranged from the wonderful to the strange. The scene was surreal and full of more life than Jon had seen in months. It was clear that Dread's influence in the midwest was not as devastating as it had been in the far west. Either the cells of resistance in this part of the country were strong, or Dread simply had not created enough forces to infiltrate the stronghold of human will to live.

By the time they had reached the bar, the fight had disappeared. The patrons had drifted back inside where music was booming. Jon and Matt slipped inside the door and found a small table to the side.

"What now?" Hawk yelled over the din.

Jon looked about the bar, seeing a myriad of roughnecks, all milling about and talking. One by one, heads turned toward them. They were strangers among people who relied on familiarity for security. One man, in particular, stared at them. He was large, and Power was willing to wager that the guy would have given Tank a run for his money in a fight. He said something to the bartender that set things in motion very quickly.

The music cut off, bringing the attention of everyone in the bar on Power and Hawk. Jon's stomach tightened, realizing things were happening too quickly. The burly guy made a line for their table and stood square before it. He crossed his arms, displaying huge bare biceps that bulged with muscle. His blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the stubble on his face said that shaving was not a priority.

"You don't belong here," he said in a deep, gruff voice.

Jon sat passively. "I'm looking for someone, the Healer."

The man laughed with a bellow. The others around him joined him. "The Healer, eh?" He got down close to Jon's face. "There's a magic shop on the next block. Maybe the witch there can give you some potions," he said with a raucous bellow that ignited another round of laughter.

"That's very helpful of you," Jon said. "I'll take it under advisement."

The smile on the man's face disappeared. It was replaced with a look of mounting impatience. He got even closer to Jon's face. "I don't like you," he said more quietly.

"Sorry you feel that way," Jon replied. In his periphery, he could see Hawk inching away from the table, preparing for what seemed inevitable.

"I don't like you, and I'm sure I don't like your friend, there," the man said, nodding toward Hawk. Others in the bar began circling the table, like sharks about to enter a feeding frenzy.

Jon had no need of confrontation. As Hawk had pointed out before they arrived at the tavern, a fight only meant they would be delayed in looking for others who might know the Healer. He eyed the man intently.

"We were just leaving," he said evenly.

The man nodded, patronizing Power. "Oh, you can say that again."

His hands reached out and grabbed Jon by the collar, lifting him out of the seat. Before Power could react, his arm was cinched up behind his back. He was propelled toward the tavern door, with Hawk receiving much the same treatment. The bar erupted in cheers and catcalls as the man pushed toward the door.

Just before he was through the doorway, the man deviated in their path to the outside and slammed Jon against the wall.

"Meet me out back in five minutes," the man muttered quickly in Power's ear. Then he hurled Jon out into the street.

The dirt road was hard. Jon was stunned briefly when his head hit the roadway. He recovered in time to see Hawk tossed out the tavern and propelled forward at the hands of the man's friends. Hawk lay on the ground next to Jon, looking up at the night sky. The street traffic paid little attention to the two prone bodies in the street. They walked around the two men and continued on as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

"Well, I think that went pretty good for our first time," Hawk said wryly, brushing off some of the dry dirt of the street. It billowed out in little puffs of smoke that caught in his throat and made him cough.

Jon got up and helped Hawk to his feet. "Follow me." He set off for the end of the block.

"Where are we going?" Hawk asked, keeping pace.

Jon hoped his instincts were on the mark. "I think we just found the Healer."