A/N- Okay this was totally not my fault this time. I have had this chapter ready for over two weeks to post, but my beta reader is sick… or rehearsing so it hasn't been beta-ed Then Liz kindly agreed to give it a once over and said it was fit for public consumption so that you could have it.
Thanks to Liz then for this and for her wonderful 10 reasons to read SF- that is sooo going on my site!
Chapter 10. A call to arms.
All his life he had been reared to believe that killing was just a way of life. Especially for a soldier of his stature, death was a trade and one that, despite his outward demeanour, he had, actually, been quite good at. Not to say that he randomly went around killing people; he just realised that murder had its place in life.
And as he sat listening to his new "counsel" he fondly wished for an assault rifle or two.
Pix leaned his chin on his hands and watched his new counsel. Mole, of course, was his 2IC and Pix had labelled him the person most likely to be killed by friendly fire. The lizard man had a way of making you want to slap him by saying hello. He smiled; it was like having B.J. back.
Dix was head of surveillance and made a great team with Techie, the new head of electronics, as neither of them would talk if they could grunt. Catering had fallen to a pregnant X called Gem who Pix could hazily remember aiding a Trainer during Life skills class.
The head of personnel was a chirpy, lumpy faced anomaly called Luke who chattered fast, furious and without seeming purpose. Both Feen and Chance had offered to take the place of the supply heads with the proviso that someone else would be appointed as soon as more people came into Terminal City.
Security and tactics were similarly filled with two transgenics who agreed on the terms that someone better qualified would fill in as soon as they arrived, Jay, an African- American transgenic with beaming smile that Pix recalled vaguely and a chameleonic anomaly called Kelpy. Pix took the defence job himself and was busy trying to co-ordinate his new counsel.
Who were driving him crazy.
Crazier.
He sat up straighter as Jay and Mole argued on the best ways to secure Terminal City and the use of weaponry.
"Bigger, more fire-power!" Mole demanded and Jay smirked.
"You know what they say about a man and his need for bigger guns?"
There were scattered giggles as the lizard's scales turned red.
"Listen, you prissy Princess, if I have to—"
"Lighten up, Mole!" Feen touched his arm and beamed up at him. "I agree with you, we could do with more firepower but surely security is uppermost priority right now?"
Her round pixie face and baby-faced grin did what no amount of Psy-Ops had ever managed to do. Mole softened and grunted as he sat back.
Pix gave Feen a grin and settle back.
Oh, this leadership thing was hard.
Anna slowly opened her eyes and stared at the rough wooden beams of the farmhouse barn where she had spent the night. It wasn't exactly the Ritz… unless they had a new breed of designer bedbugs that she hadn't heard about.
She rolled off the hay loft that she had crashed on and sprung to her feet, thinking longingly of her old bed at Manticore… and the showers that they had there.
And, right now, she'd happily kill for a bacon sandwich. Or maybe not kill, but she'd certainly maim someone for some toast.
But she'd massacre villages for coffee.
Anna nodded, satisfied that she had her priorities in order, and stretched languidly.
After her escape from those mindless minions yesterday she had decided that she needed to find somewhere to lie low for a while and gather her thoughts.
Anna sat on a nearby hay bale and thought about her situation with a calm that most of her friends wouldn't believe that she possessed.
Her situation may be uncertain right now, but she could rearrange things to her satisfaction. All she had to do was the make matters clear in her head. So, what was she certain of?
Number one- Ames White deserved to die. She nodded, that was pretty much a given.
Number two- Ames White was far stronger than he had right to be as a human… which would lead her to believe that he wasn't exactly human. So, if he wasn't a human, what was he? Anna brought her hand up to her mouth and began to gnaw on a nail.
Okay, no idea. Number three- Mr. not-so-human had developed some sort of virus that made it possible to single out transgenics and kill them. Which told her two things; one, he had a grudge against transgenics and two, he was dangerous. But that also meant that he knew about transgenics which would indicate that he was somehow connected with Manticore.
That, of course, would lend credence to the idea that the whole organization was aiming to annihilate their mistake.
Anna's eyes narrowed, she didn't see herself as a mistake. Maybe Cece… but not her.
She shook her head again and tried to concentrate. Ames White was bad, possibly dangerous and was out to get her. Good to know.
What else was she sure about?
Well, she wasn't going back to Terminal Dump heap that was for sure. She was fed up of being looked at with a mixture of hope and disgust. Just because she was Special Ops didn't mean she was special in other ways… and you'd have to be pretty special to want to take over leadership of that rat infested slum.
Anna shuddered at the thought of having to develop people-skills. Not happening in her lifetime. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her newfound freedom.
What she did want to do was get even with this Ames White who had tried to use her as a Guinea Pig.
Anna sat up. What she had to do was to sabotage his virus plans, to find out who sent him, what their agenda was and why they wanted to kill all transgenics. Oh, and then she'd kill his ass.
Anna nodded happy again. She knew she'd feel better with a plan—misinformation, chaos and death—it made a body feel good.
Of course, she'd feel much better with a shower, a change of clothes and food.
On cue her stomach grumbled and she bit her nail again. She had seen a Kwik-e-mart some way down the road and reasoned that she was quick enough to get in and out with food without being seen, or caught.
Anna stood up and headed for the barn door.
The overgrown, hidden track that Anna found herself walking along was something that she had only heard about in books and never thought that she would ever see herself. Honestly, in mid-America one didn't expect to see some gothic-esque shadow path complete with dark tree branches sweeping the ground and tangled thorns like a fence on either side.
It was like something out of one of those ridiculous mystery- horror stories that Mets liked to devour and pretend that he was far too sophisticated to actually read.
Anna ambled down it with a bemused smile and headed for the sounds of traffic, small though they were.
As she neared the road she could smell the smells of civilisation and her steps hurried at the thought of getting her hands on some food— finally.
The Kwik-e-mart was almost empty except for the lanky blond- haired teen, picking his nose and reading some porn magazine that had clearly seen better days.
She headed for the back of the store, hoping to steal her rations unobtrusively.
As she was contemplating the merits of getting caught with crackers or Wheat Thins as opposed to some actual food she heard the door creak and four children walked in.
Normally Anna would have scowled at their temerity to make loud noise when it wasn't warranted and go back to her choice— nutrition vs. nuts—but when her quick glance caught site of the dull grey military fatigues that they were wearing she stopped short.
They were torn, dirty and about three washes away from disintegrating but they were, unmistakably, Manticore casuals; which meant that these brats were Manticore rejects.
Anna folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against the shelf to watch the grubby blonde girl with a pronounced nose pick up one of the boxes of crackers that she had discarded herself.
A broad shouldered boy turned it over and looked at it curiously. "A barcode. What does it mean?"
Anna rolled her eyes. Great, not only were they kids, they were newbies who didn't even know what the barcodes on food boxes were for. She smirked as she wondered what they'd say if they knew that the codes on the boxes had exactly the same purpose as the ones on their necks. It was to tell one product apart from another.
The blonde smiled widely, a gap showing between her front teeth proving that she had a rough time since Manticore was incinerated. "Means it's ours," she said.
She grabbed the box from his hands and stuffed it down her shirt, motioning for the others to do the same.
Anna rolled her eyes again as they took the large packets and made damn sure that they wouldn't escape unnoticed. Really, didn't they learn anything about subtlety in Manticore?
"That's it. Let's go," said the other male with a tremor in his voice.
Before they could take any steps, however, Anna stepped in front of them.
"Gee," she snarled. "It's great to see the young people of today letting the side down. What exactly were you thinking… if you were, indeed, thinking at all?"
The blonde girl wrinkled her nose at Anna. "Who are you?"
"I'm your superior, brat, and I'll thank you to be a bit politer to the person who's gonna stop you getting your asses hauled in front of juvie court for knocking over a Kwik-e-mart!"
"A what?"
Anna rolled her eyes heavenward. "Please, Manticore and Psy-Ops, spare me from adolescents."
All eyes went wide at the admission that she was a fellow Manticorian.
"You're an X-series?"
Anna shook her head. "Give the boy a cracker. The point is, what you guys are doing is what we call… naughty."
"We're starving," the blonde girl moaned.
"You're exposing yourselves," Anna corrected.
"Can't you fix it?" the other girl asked.
"Do I look like an agony aunt?" Anna snapped. "What I can fix is your dumb-headedness. Stealing…where humans can see you is a big no-no. Create a distraction; then pilfer."
"Right and exactly how do we do that?"
"A big zero for you in tactics," Anna said and stalked over to the lanky-haired cashier.
"Hey," she said in her best sultry voice. The man looked up, past her long jean clad legs up to her tank top and fluttering eyes.
"Hey," he breathed and Anna leaned forwards pouting her lips.
As he leaned forwards to meet her Anna reached up and grabbed his neck, pressing down on his windpipe.
His arms flailed briefly and his eyes bugged as he ran out of oxygen.
As he fell unconscious, Anna dropped him to the floor.
"See, distraction," she gestured to the comatose man on the floor and leaned over his body to flip open the cash register, taking out the cash and pocketing it.
She paused and looked at the children. "Well? I thought you said you were hungry." She threw a few carrier bags at them. "Fill 'em up."
With a gleam in their eyes the four children snatched the bags and stuffed as much food as they could into them before following Anna out.
"How long has she been like this?" Zack asked as he trailed his palm over Emma's forehead.
"Since we got out," Zan said leaning against the doorframe of the darkened bedroom. "She wasn't too bad at first, a bit overwhelmed with everyone's thoughts and emotions, but after a few days—" he trailed off.
"Uh huh." Zack's reply was absent as he took the girl's hand in his own. "What's her name?"
"Emma."
"Designation?"
It took Zan a moment to remember it. "X5-148… I think."
Zack nodded. He remembered his first few weeks out of Manticore, thinking the whole world was his enemy, out to get him. He had been brought up to believe that everyone he didn't know was the enemy and out in the big bad world he didn't know anyone.
His first few hours were a medley of nightmarish feelings and frantic close-calls.
Then he had found one of his own—Brin—in the same condition that this Emma was in. It had scared him at the time and he had tried everything to get her back.
Of course, in the long run, it probably hadn't made much difference since she had succumbed to a Manticore induced viral agent anyway. He pushed his mind away from thoughts of his dead baby sister and concentrated on the woman in front of him.
She was beautiful… well; they all were, weren't they? She had short punky red hair growing just past shoulder length, and long limbs that were pale from lack of sun.
She was beautiful and Zack let his hand caress her pale, soft skin.
He took a deep breath. "X5-148, WAKE UP!"
Emma's eyes snapped open.
"Hey, what—?" Zan started in shock, but Zack held his hand up asking for trust and silence.
"You have been asleep for far too long, X5-148," he called loudly. "You are failing your mission. What is important?"
Zan glared at him.
"The misshion," Emma slurred, years of training penetrating the haze caused by her pain.
"In order to function, you need to block your thoughts. What you lack is discipline. Discipline 148. Sit up!"
Emma slowly sat up and Zan's jaw dropped. She hadn't sat up in over two weeks, too weak to even try.
"Inside your head are compartments. Compartments for the senses; smell, taste, touch, sight, hearing and emotives. Are all six of these senses separate?"
"Yessir."
"What?"
"Yes, sir," she said more clearly.
"You have a lazy mind, soldier," Zack yelled making himself flinch. He hated doing this, hated reminding himself of the brutality of his former home. But sometimes their ingrained training was the only way to save them. Kindness and sympathy were all well and good but for soldiers who had been brought up to see them as weakness, they needed discipline rather than compassion to function. "Shut off your sense of smell, soldier—close the compartment. What do you smell?"
"Nothing, sir."
"Shut off your sense of touch, what can you feel?" he rapped on her arm.
"Nothing, sir."
"Shut off your senses of taste and sight. What can you see?"
Emma opened her eyes and stared blankly at the wall where Zan stood. "Nothing, sir."
"Shut off your emotive sense." Zack took a breath. "What do you sense?"
"Nothing, sir." There was wonder in her voice. "Nothing!"
"Open your eyes, Emma," Zack said with a grin. "See, smell, touch and taste, but keep the emotive shut tight."
Emma blinked and straightened up, looking at Zan.
A slow smile spread across her face. "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes."
Zan yelped in pleasure and jumped onto the bed, gathering her in his arms for an extended hug.
"Emma!" he choked. "Thank Manticore you are all right."
"No, thank Zack," Zack said seriously and they turned to him as one.
"Emma, Zack." Zan introduced. "He saved your life."
"Relieved," Emma held out her hand.
"Delighted," Zack grinned.
"What was that?" Zan asked gesturing to the two of them.
Zack sat back on the bed and thought about how to phrase what had happened to Emma. "In Manticore we all had certain animalistic traits passed on through our DNA, right?"
"Yeah, so?"
"Those who had Shark DNA had to sleep less because sharks don't really sleep."
"Yeah, I'd spend all night with Dek or Max and Chance talking," Emma said sleepily as she cuddled up next to Zan.
"Sleep is for more that regeneration," Zack explained. "Sleep allows us to make sense of our day, it allows our thoughts to be integrated into our system and processed. Your Shark DNA wasn't properly regulated because you haven't got anyone around the same DNA structure so your lack of REM sleep was causing you to be unable to assimilate the new emotions and sensations into your body. Basically too much information overloaded your system and without sleep, you were unable to process it."
"Makes sense," Zan said dubiously. "Not exactly a great design feature. I mean there is no telling where she'd be sent on missions and without her Shark DNA pals she'd be essentially useless."
Emma elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
"No offence," he said as he grabbed at his aching side.
"None taken, you big ox."
Zack stared down at the slim girl. "I see you are feeling better then. B.J. will be pleased."
Emma smiled sweetly as she yawned. "Shark DNA or not, I still feel like could sleep for a year."
"I'm sure we could find some handsome prince to wake you up," Zan teased not noticing Emma's eye flicker to Zack's.
"You already did," she whispered.
"Can I just go on record as saying," Isacar said, "that this is a bad idea."
"Seconded," Nyx said dryly as she settled back in the SUV.
"Thirded," Zeph added. "Motion passed."
"Well I think it's great!" Icarus beamed.
"You would," Isacar muttered as he glared at his twin. "But then again, you thought that chocolate pasta was a good idea."
Icarus flushed red. "It was a mistake, an honest mistake but at least I cook!"
"Kids!" Skye pleaded, rubbing her head. She placed her trembling hands on the steering wheel and bit her lip. She wondered what the Greeks would say if they knew that this had been her very first attempt to drive a car. Oh, she had plenty of theory practice and had had a go back at Manticore but this was her first solo attempt. Flex had managed to procure a post-pulse car to enable her to get about more and this was the first time that she had been tempted to use it.
Her hands had shook as she tried to recall which pedal was accelerate and which was break—a fact she had kept quiet from the Greeks sitting in the back. They would have had more to occupy them than their current squabble if they had known that their little lives were in the hands of a woman who had no idea what those little lights on the dashboard meant.
And as if the drive wasn't bad enough now she had to put up with their bickering.
"We all agreed to this to maintain our cover," Skye reminded them as she turned to look at the four faces behind her. They each showed some variance of the sulky teen and Skye felt the sudden urge to send them all to solitary.
Fighting her latent militaristic tendencies she gave them a fake smile. "Think of it as a mission."
"You said we don't have to do missions anymore," Zeph said troubled.
"Then think of it as a game," Skye bit out.
Isacar looked out of the window to the building next to him. "Public schools are the nurseries of all vice and immorality."
"Thank you, Henry Fielding," Skye said dryly recognising the quote. "Well, I was assured that this was a respectable school, they won't worry about missing papers—like birth certificates and stuff. Besides, having school aged kids running around is bound to cause comment."
"I'd like to dispute the school age comment," Nyxie said after putting her hand up.
"Sixteen is still young enough to be in school, chick," Skye rubbed her forehead as she scanned over the building looking at available exits and entrances for her kids.
Her kids. Skye had actual children—how scary was that?
"Okay, looks pretty secure. Have a nice day."
No one moved.
"Scram!"
The doors opened and all four slunk out like they'd rather be back at Manticore.
Zeph turned his bright eyes to Skye. "D-do I hafta?" his bottom lip trembled and Skye forgot herself enough to feel a pang of sympathy with the poor kid.
She got out of the car and crouched down near him.
"Hey, Zeph chin up. It can't be all bad. Here you get to hang out with ones your own age. Okay, you might have to hold back on some of your abilities but at least they're on the same level."
"Yeah. Short," Isacar muttered until Skye's glare cut him off.
"But they won't be my level," Zeph protested, "I'm way smarter than they are. Galen gets to stay with you, why can't I?"
"Because Galen needs more care right now, he still gets scared at loud noises and people frighten him. You, however, are old enough and brave enough," Skye smiled at him and poked his little chest, causing him to giggle. "C'mon, soldier, buck up."
Zeph nodded and then flung his arms around her neck. "You'll come pick us up?"
"Count on it," she vowed.
"If the schmaltz fest is over," Isacar said. "Can we go get some of what passes for education in these primitive conditions?"
Skye rose and ruffled his blond hair. "Get lost."
"Bye, Skye!" Icarus waved and they turned as one to face the school as Skye got into the car and started the engine. Noting their nervous looks she hesitated.
"You'll be okay."
"Sure," Isacar nodded with a gulp, "No problem."
Skye drove away.
"Just us and three hundred hostiles, I see nothing to worry about," he finished dryly.
"Can we count this as a field test?" Icarus said, moving closer to her brother.
"How about an exercise in how not to screw up?" Nyx reminded them forcefully of the reason that they were there. This was part of their cover, they had to excel at this or risk being uncovered and possibly returned to Manticore.
The four of them took a deep breath and almost as one stepped towards the school.
Icarus tried to be her usual chirpy self as they mounted the steps towards the imposing building. "First stop, the Principals office."
"Something," Isacar prophesied, "that will probably be a regular occurrence."
Anna had never really excelled once she had made it into Special Ops. Drew beat her in escape and evade, Steve beat her at seek and destroy and Coco always whipped her in defence, whereas Feen was far and away better at electronics.
She contented herself with the fact that she didn't really care all that much now that she actually there. She was the best of the best. Only the really pretentious wanted to be the best of the best of the best.
But no matter what she had always tried to keep a high standard, which meant keeping on top of her game and knowing when she was being followed.
She was being followed.
Normally, this would make her paranoid or apprehensive. Right now she was just annoyed.
She spun around. "Go away!"
"Where?" asked the annoying blonde girl.
"I don't know!"
"You don't know or you don't care?"
"Pick one!" She threw her hands up in the air and walked faster ahead trying to leave the dirty little urchins behind.
Even as she stalked through the undergrowth she could hear their footsteps coming after her.
"Ma'am?" a tiny voice said. "We don't know what to do…or where to go."
Anna sighed and spun on her heel again viewing the faces in front of her. "Honestly, I don't care. I'm not maternal. I don't like children…or old people…or any people. About sixty miles that way is a little town called Seattle, full of other people that I don't like. In fact right in the centre there is a huge rat infested dump heap full of your kind."
"Our kind," said the blonde.
"Baby, I'm one of a kind," snapped Anna. "You, sadly, have made my list of people I actively dislike; it's a short list, getting shorter by the day. My advice? Other than get a hair cut and a shower? Head to Seattle and Terminal city. More X's, more anomalies and at least a hundred dirtier, smellier brats than you."
"You're not coming?" the smallest said in a whining voice.
"Do I look like the pied piper?" Anna growled. "Go. Little street urchins, seek and find mud."
With that parting shot she stomped further, listening to them argue as she lost herself in the forest. She had a plan; she didn't care about some group of whiny Manticore rejects. She was out to kill Ames White and no flea-ridden, grubby, chubby-faced little band of orphan-Annie rejects was going to get in her way.
Except for the one that was in her way.
"Did I stutter?" She demanded of the blonde. "Scram, scarper, vamoose, go, leave, be gone, gehen urlaub, partent, vada via, salga, allez-vous en! Get lost!"
"Impressive," the girl said. "How about this? No. Nein, non, nao, ninguna manera, keine Weisse. No way José!"
Anna regarded the scruffy looking little brat. She looked to be no more than thirteen at most. Her hair was the colour of dirty straw, her nose was turned up and her teeth were too big for her mouth. She was lippy and arrogant and annoying as hell.
"Little girl, I don't have time… nor the patience for this. I don't want you around. Find your scruffy little pals and leave me the hell alone."
"They've gone to find that place, Terminal City. I'm staying here."
"Like hell!"
"No, like this," she latched onto Anna's arm.
Anna flung her off like she was a disease ridden leper.
She was a child and that was close.
"Which part did I lose you on?" Anna rallied furiously. "I. don't. want. You. Around."
"I don't care, you are the first X I have seen since we broke out and I am sticking with you."
"Why is the likkle girlie all scared of being alone?" Anna mocked.
"Yes."
"Tough." Anna stormed past her.
The blonde shrugged and followed.
Hours later, Anna was impressed in spite of herself. Her little blonde shadow had stuck with her pace all day. She must have been tired and Anna was setting a mean pace but the girl was determined not to give up and she had to give her kudos for tenacity.
Despite it being as irritating as hell.
Of course now the night was well along and Anna had stopped for the night.
Whilst the little brats had been pigging out on candy and snacks, Anna had gone into survival mode and had made sure to filch items that she could use later—matches, water bottles, knives, hunting gear—and so she was sitting in front of a roaring fire toasting a rabbit that she had caught a few miles back.
She heard snuffling getting closer to her position and tensed even though she knew it was the blonde.
Anna grinned evilly as she purposely wafted the scent of cooked meat towards where the girl was hiding. She heard a stomach rumble and her grin widened.
"Hmmm, smells good," she said aloud and was rewarded by the small plaintive; "Bitch," from the undergrowth.
Anna chuckled and pulled a long strip of hot meat from the bone and nibbled on it.
From the direction of the bushes came a few sniffles and then the blonde girl pushed open the foliage and stepped into Anna's camp eyeing her dolefully.
"I'm cold," she announced quietly and sat on the dirt ground by the small fire that Anna had managed to get going.
"Is that my problem?" Anna responded and pulled off another strip of meat to chew on.
The blonde stared at her. "You're mean."
"You're catching on," Anna smirked. "Ready to go find your furry little friends?"
"No," the girl said. "I'm sticking around, whether you like it or not."
Anna eyed her thoughtfully.
The girl shuffled closer to the fire and tried to warm her shaking hands.
She watched Anna carefully. "Is…is there any of that left?"
"If there is, I'll package it up for tomorrow." Anna's eyebrows rose in challenge and the girl shrugged.
"I went seven days in training without food."
"Congratulations," Anna said. "Where's your water bottle?"
The girl opened and closed her mouth for a moment and then sagged in half-defeat.
Anna hid her smile and went back to her dinner.
"I could carry your gear for you?" The girl said hopefully. "Or I could be a distraction for when you commandeer things."
"Distraction is right."
"You know statistically civilians are more likely to trust a woman with a child."
"That right?"
"Hmm," the girl was warming to her cause. "We could take turns as lookout so you get some sleep. I could scout locations as I'm smaller and less obvious than you."
Anna didn't answer that.
"I can cook!" the girl tried desperately. "Better than cooked meat, I excelled at Life Skills!"
"Listen, brat," Anna said, "you want to stay with me because you think you'll be safe, right? Well I'm not heading for safety. I'm heading right for the snakes den. There is a nasty man who is out to eliminate all transgenics. He is faster, smarter and stronger than a human and is well funded—which makes him doubly dangerous. He pissed me off and now I am after him. This isn't some pleasure cruise, brat. I'm out for blood…and so's he."
The girl gulped. "I want to stay."
"Then you're an idiot." Anna sat back. "I'm going fast and I'm going hard. I don't like you and that isn't going to change. If you came with me I would expect you to keep up and I wouldn't wait for you if you didn't. You'd get left behind all alone. I would not be nice to you and I wouldn't care if you got hurt…or worse. If you get captured I will not save you and I'll expect you to pull your own weight."
The girl smiled.
"What?"
"You went from 'if' to 'when'."
Anna rolled her eyes. "It changes nothing, brat. You keep up or I'll ditch you. Don't expect me to be nice because it ain't gonna happen."
"Got it!"
Anna eyed her dubiously. "You got a name, brat?"
"A designation."
Anna rolled her eyes. "I think I'll take a leaf out of Max's book and name you… Ralph."
"Ralph," she tried it. "I like it. Why Ralph?"
"Because you make me sick," Anna answered with a glare. "One last proviso, brat, if you speak before I've had my morning coffee I won't be responsible for my actions."
"Okay."
"Scratch that…if you are a morning person you can hit the road right now."
Ralph hid a smile. "I'm not."
"Don't get smart," Anna warned.
"I won't," Ralph vowed and crawled over to where Anna sat on the log. "I'll try not to make you regret it."
"Too late," Anna sighed and handed her some strips of meat.
Zack had finally managed to convince Emma that it would do her the world of good to get out and go for a walk with him.
It would be the first time that she had stepped out since the fire and she was more than slightly dubious about doing so.
She couldn't forget the excruciating pain that lanced through her as she succumbed to the myriad sensations that swamped her before.
She still shuddered when remembering the screams and echoes of pain as they thundered through her veins.
Zack gripped her arm as they made their way down the stairs. He glanced over to her pale face and marvelled that he had only known her a few days. He had sat with her for the past few days, trying to help her block the transmissions form those around her and showing her ways of opening and closing those processes without letting anything else in. He snuck a glance at her quickly.
Her punky hair hung in layers by her cheek and her hands trembled as she clung to him, still feeling a little weak from her confinement. She was an odd mixture of fragility and strength that had him confused.
"Hey," she whispered. "Quit staring, I'm not gonna fall to pieces."
"Good to know, soldier," he said with a rare grin and she felt her heart turn over at the softness that became apparent in his gaze.
"Ready for this?" he asked as he pushed open the door.
"Not in the slightest," she responded. "But I have been reliably informed that if my brain dribbles out of my ears, Zan will have your head on a platter."
Zack nodded. "Message received loud and clear."
He took her hand and led her out into the bright sunshine and Emma blinked.
"Bright," she hissed and covered her eyes.
Protective feelings that Zack hadn't even known he possessed welled up and he pulled her into his chest, shielding her from the sun with his body.
Emma snuggled into the musky warmth of his leather jacket and inhaled the strong cedar smell of his body.
"Hmm," she said quietly and Zack stroked her back. He had become used to her after only a few days and it made him worry.
He had always tried to be the strong one, the one that they could rely on to keep his head in a crisis and not to fall apart. He could not afford sentimentality and that was what this imp of a girl made him feel.
It wasn't allowed in his world and he had to put a stop to it.
Now.
"Ready to try again?"
Emma frowned, not wanting to move away from the comfort that he offered. He pushed her away and she sighed.
"Okay, then."
They stepped forwards into the bright sunshine and Emma held tight to Zack's arm.
"So," she said to break the silence, "where are we headed?"
"Phone box," he said shortly.
"Okay," she tried again. "Why don't you use your cell phone?"
"Traceable."
"Nice day, isn't it?"
"It's okay."
Emma's eyebrows rose. She was all for silence but his monosyllabic answers were frustrating.
"Him, Emma," she said sarcastically, "It's a wonderful day, dear, hey how about those bears?"
Zack blinked. "What bears?"
Emma hid a smile at his bewilderment. He was so adorably clueless.
"Never mind the bears," she said. "How about conversation?"
Zack deliberated for a moment. "Conversation is counterproductive. Our objective is to secure your wellbeing and find a payphone."
"How can you ensure that you have obtained your objective unless you speak to the one whose wellbeing you seek to secure?" Emma countered knowing full well that she had the verbal ability to tie people in knots. It had been a talent of hers that had driven many of her unit crazy- Metz in particular. He had loved to win conversations and expound logic. Emma's ability to take a simple conversation and make you so confused that you ended up defending a position that you originally attacked had left the austere man frustrated beyond all reason… and had been one of Emma's most enjoyable memories; to see the tidy Italian with ruffled hair and frowning face was her most cherished picture.
Zack bit his lip as he stared into the mischievous eyes of the imp by his side. She was baiting him in a way that reminded him of Jondy at her most provoking.
He would not rise to it.
"I can use visual data to determine the validity of my prognosis," he stated.
"A good soldier uses more than one avenue in case one is corrupted."
Frowning Zack countered. "My vision is not corrupted."
"No, but it is from a second party via conjecture, whereas my own opinion is first hand since I am the primary in this case. No soldier works on second hand data so by default you must trust my judgement to ascertain my wellbeing." Emma grinned inwardly as Zack paused.
Dammit. She had a point and that grated more than anything else.
"Fine," he bit out. "Are you okay?"
"Not telling," she teased impishly.
Zack's jaw dropped. "What? Why not?"
Emma shrugged. "I do not feel that your question was properly motivated. My wellbeing isn't paramount to you and I feel slighted by your neglect, oh look, phone box."
Emma leaned against the box giving him her brightest smile.
Zack shook his head in disbelief and walked inside, shooting her an odd look as he closed the door and picking up the phone.
He punched in the number and waited for it to ring.
Ben absently noted the caller ID of the one ringing and fought the urge to roll his eyes.
Zack, of course. For the first time in years Ben was reasonably happy and content and his big brother had to ring to ruin things.
Well, not tonight, pal. Ben grinned and shoved his phone into a drawer to muffle the buzz.
"Who was it?" Drew asked from her place on the sofa.
"No one important," Ben said as he came and sat back next to her. Drew swung her legs over the end of the sofa and settled with her head against his chest, picking up the popcorn from the floor.
Ben draped his arm over her shoulders and shifted to get comfortable again. Drew had been in his house for just over two weeks and it was if she belonged there. After their first few forays to find her a new place to live they had laughed so hard and had finally given it up as a bad idea. Now Drew lived with Ben and it felt so right to him. They spent the day in his supply and acquisition business and the nights they either went on heists or snuggled up to watch movies. They spoke long and hard about things that no one else had ever understood, save Max, and found that they had much in common. Their joy at the hunt, the pure thrill of hunting someone else and knowing that they were better.
Of course there were things that they didn't talk about by mutual, unspoken agreement. But everything else was free for all.
To Ben it was like heaven. For too many years he had been left to his own devices, unable and unwilling to have someone else in his life. His big brother had actively discouraged affection and dependence on others and, by necessity; Ben had been forced to keep himself to himself and was never allowed to have someone to call his own. He had been lonely for most of his life.
Until now.
Although he realised that Drew had someone who she cared about deeply; even loved, it was Ben that she stayed with and Ben that she spent all night talking to.
They had come to something of a comfortable relationship that never progressed beyond mild flirtation and innuendo; despite the wishes of either party. Ben knew that he wouldn't jeopardise the feelings of contentment that he had when she was around. He never wanted to feel that lonely again and he was prepared to do whatever it took to keep her in his life.
He switched the movie back on and settled back eager to spend the quiet time wrapped around this woman.
"Hmm!" Drew said as the film progressed.
"What?" Ben asked absently as he watched the nervous man on the screen tap on the door of his date.
"I don't get it!" Drew said in annoyance.
"Get what?" Ben stared down at her dark hair.
"That," she waved at the screen. "The flower thing. I don't get it!"
"What's to get?"
Drew sat up and Ben felt the cold move into the place where her warmth had just been. He felt bereft when she wasn't there. She was quickly becoming an obsession.
She spun to face him. "She doesn't have a garden… she lives seven stories up…what's with the flowers?"
Oh, the movie. "They're a present."
"Yeah," Drew said in frustration. "But what is the point?"
"Point?" Ben looked baffled.
"I get the point of presents. I do. We watched that 'Mummy' thing and he gave her stolen digging tools—useful, practical. Even that 'Pretty Hooker', he gave her jewellery which she could have pawned for cash when she was back on the street. But I don't get flowers. They are neither practical nor useful. They offer no nutritional or intrinsic value. They die in a few days and then all you have are decomposing stems."
"First up," Ben said trying to hold back laughter. "Is it was Pretty Woman, not Pretty Hooker. Second, you don't 'get' flowers?"
"Mets… this guy back at Manticore brought me flowers but I just didn't understand why. Dek brought me a gun. That I got. It was a double action PSS. 7.62 millimetre with a special purpose noiseless cartridge. It was sweet." She smiled softly remembering the kick of that gun.
Ben bit back a laugh at her tender expression even as he felt the bite of jealousy that she spoke with such affection to an unknown male. "Okay, we are a bit different because we are taught to think practically but humans…norms are taught that appearances matter more. That's why they all wear make-up and are worried about the way that they look. Flowers are attractive; they add colour and beauty to any home."
Like you do, he wanted to add.
"But they die so quickly," she protested. "Why would humans want to be reminded that life is transient?"
Ben shrugged. "Most live in the moment, their lives are inconsequential and trivialities please them."
"Huh," Drew considered this. "So aesthetically flowers have a purpose."
"Yeah." Ben nodded. "Although they do say it is the thought that counts. I guess for a guy to buy a woman flowers mean that they actually were thinking of them."
"Huh," Drew nodded at that thought process. She sighed. "I'd still prefer a gun." She settled back against him.
"Me too," Ben agreed and hugged her tightly. "Something else we have in common."
He smiled as she rested her head just below his heart beat and he curved his arms possessively around her body.
Drew was reduced to hysterics when she awoke the next day to find her bedroom full of flowers.
Carrot knocked on the door to the abandoned house and was greeted by a faint snuffling.
"No—no—no nobody home."
Carrot grinned. "It's me, Joshua. It's Carrot."
The door edged open and a flat nosed face poked through the corner turning into a huge smile when it saw who stood there.
"Hah! Carrot fella!"
Carrot looked around. "You have cleared up well, Joshua. This place looks amazing."
And it did. He had obviously taken the time to make sure that his fathers former house was as perfect as it could be and the floors were clean and tidy. But recently he had had taken to moving furniture around so that he gotoptimum reading space.
"Found pictures," Joshua said without preamble. "Father made pictures."
Carrot looked at a painting that was proudly displayed…upside down.
"Nice," he said.
Joshua grinned in pleasure at the praise from his friend.
Carrot turned to the huge dog-man. "Hey, guess what, Joshua old pal?"
"What?"
"We're going out!"
The way that Joshua's eyes lit up let Carrot know exactly how welcome this was to the man who had been shut up in one basement or another for most of his life.
"Out-outside?"
"Uh huh," Carrot grinned as Joshua seemed to suddenly feel the urge to chase after the tail that he didn't have.
"Joshua must get coat…and shoes," He started out one way and paused. "Brush hair." He turned and paused. "Shoes!" He spun in a circle and Carrot covered his mouth to smother the laugh that threatened to erupt.
"Calm down, big guy. We are going to go see Tara and Cece and they really don't care of your hair is brushed," he comforted. "In fact," he paused, "I think its best of you leave it as is, we will still have to disguise you from the common people."
"People scared of what they don't understand," Joshua said knowingly. "Running, screaming."
"Yeah, and mobs and torches and lynching…it's all very complicated." Carrot grinned. "So, you almost ready?"
The walk from Joshua's place to Carrot's apartment took less than twenty minutes and held a kind of frustrated amusement as Joshua insisted on stopping every few steps to peer excitedly at some new item or situation. Carrot was pleased and indulgent to his friend's whims…even if he did balk at letting Joshua sniff hydrants.
Some things went even beyond what the normally placid Carrot felt comfortable with.
People did give the seven foot tall man odd looks but were put off investigating any further by the hurried pace that Carrot tried to set for his friend. They arrived at Carrot's apartment in good time and Joshua was fairly jumping with joy at the opportunity to meet new people.
Carrot entered and allowed Joshua to follow him in, let8ing his friend get accustomed to the new smells and sounds.
"Welcome to Casa del Carrot," Carrot said.
"Casa Carrot," Joshua enthused and couldn't help a small bark of happiness.
"Carrot?"
They turned to see Tara walk into the room, drying her hands on tea-towel.
"Hey there," she greeted Joshua with a smile. "You must be Joshua, I've heard a lot about you."
Joshua ducked his head in partial embarrassment and grinned. "Carrot fella says nice things about Tara."
"Good," Tara leaned back against Carrot. "I must say that I never thought you were that tall."
Joshua stood up straighter, proud of his stature.
"Hey guys, do you have any Chilli's left?"
They turned to watch Cece as she walked out of the kitchen engrossed in a banana sandwich. At their silence she looked up.
"Holy Renfro!" she gasped on seeing Joshua. "You're huge!"
"Joshua," he said pointing at himself.
"Cece," she pointed at herself. "Sandwich." She pointed to her sandwich and took a large bite.
Joshua blinked, bemused and confused at her attitude.
"Oh, ignore Cece," Tara said. "She's pregnant."
"What-what's pregnant?" Joshua asked innocently.
"Uh…it means that she's having a baby."
Joshua shook his head. "She said sandwich."
Tara giggled. "No, she's not eating a baby."
"Although I wouldn't put it past her," Carrot said who had been witness to Cece's odd eating habits these past few days.
Cece glared and swiped at her straw-coloured hair in annoyance. She had been bemoaning the fact that it had grown to past her shoulders and was getting on her nerves. Of course, there was little that she didn't complain of these days.
"What I meant is that she has a person inside her stomach," Tara tried to explain.
Joshua's eyes opened wide in horror and he raked Cece with his wide-eyed gaze before running over and grabbing her waist. He dropped to his knees.
"Get out!" he yelled to her belly and gave her a shake. "Food inside, people outside!"
Carrot fell off the sofa clutching his sides at the look on Cece's face. It was a priceless mix of shock and incredulity mixed with mashed banana which, he knew, would stay with him forever.
Tara wiped her eyes and covered her mouth. "No, Joshua, he's supposed to be in there!"
Joshua stood up and gave her a puppy dog look that begged someone to please explain.
"Sit down, pal," Carrot patted the seat next to him. "I think we need to explain the whole sperm and egg thing?"
"Joshua likes eggs," he said pleasantly. "Fried."
"See, Neanderthal man is alive and well," Cece pointed out.
"No," Tara frowned at her. "Innocence doesn't equal primitivism."
Cece bit down on her sandwich and watched as Carrot was telling a horrified Joshua about the birds and bees…or in their case, the test tube and syringe. His astonished glances to her mid-section were as funny as they were humiliating and she longed for this to be over already, even as she was terrified as to what would happen when it all was.
Her a mother.
Her a mother.
It was inconceivable. It was impossible. It was inevitable.
It was scary.
"So, inside Cece is a small fella who will be a big fella one day?"
"Exactly," Carrot beamed. "Probably this big to start off with." He held his hands apart about twelve inches. "Or smaller."
Joshua shook his head. "Even smaller than little fella."
"Little fella?" Carrot said absently as Tara slid into his arms.
"Uh, Max little fella."
Joshua blinked as attention was suddenly on him.
"You know Max?"
Joshua nodded. "Little fella used to come see Joshua in the basement with the downstairs people. She watched screaming fella and made it all go away. Then when lights and loud noise came, she let us out. All of us out, that was the plan and we blazed!"
"Uh huh," Tara nodded. "Have you seen anything of her since we came out?"
"No," Joshua pouted. "Joshua like little fella, want to see again."
"We do too, pal. If you smell her or hear a thing, you'll tell us right?"
"Will do."
"I wonder what Max would say about this," Cece said morosely pointing to her mid-section.
"Maybe if we find her soon enough, you'll find out."
"How long until new fella?" Joshua asked.
Tara paused, thinking hard. "Well, in humans usually it takes approximately 266 days. But…"
"What?" Cece asked as Tara trailed off.
"Well, I was thinking. Humans take nine months to gestate but would Manticore really want a soldier out of action for almost a year?"
"Not a viable use of merchandise," Carrot saw her point.
"I know that animals have a different time period for gestation, with all our animal DNA it's possible that they programmed something like one of their time frames in, to cut out the long period of inactivity."
"So this could all be over sooner?" Cece wasn't sure whether to be elated or more depressed at that. On the one hand it would all be over, on the other hand it would mean that her nightmare arrived sooner.
"How soon are we talking here?"
"Well, I never made a study but I think that I remember from my mammalian studies that uh, monkeys were 164 days, or sheep were 148 give or take."
"So half the time?" Carrot nodded. "Makes sense."
Tara bit her lip. "But we don't just have mammalian DNA, we have all kinds. Dogs do it in 62 days whereas mice take only 21."
"I don't have mice DNA," Cece said shrilly.
"Be grateful we don't have hamster DNA," Tara said dryly. "16 days total."
Cece shuddered. "Well, that would be last week, so I think I'm safe there."
"Don't elephants take a couple of years to give birth?" Carrot said, sadistically enjoying the scared look on Cece's face.
Joshua frowned. "Let's ask him."
Before anyone else could say a word he knelt by Cece's stomach, this time laying his ear gently against the small curve of her belly.
"Hey, new fella," he whispered. "You joining outside people soon?"
He listened intently, not noticing the tender expression that suddenly covered Cece's face.
He looked up suddenly and grinned. "New fella said when good and ready."
Carrot burst out laughing, followed by Cece and Tara. Joshua beamed and stroked one hand over her mid-section before standing.
"I think with an answer like that, there is no doubt that he is Cece's child. He takes after his mother."
With a wondering look at Joshua Cece touched her stomach and smiled softly.
"Yeah."
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