New World, Old Ghosts
By AquilaDisclaimer: I own nothing related to Dark Angel, just the thoughts in my head.
Rating: PG-13
Email: hhinam@hotmail.com
Archiving: Please ask first.
Summary: Max and Logan come to the aid of a beleaguered cousin, while dealing with their own issues.
Spoilers: Post-Female Trouble. Just a few quick reminders: The entire storyline for this was sketched out over a year and a half ago and I haven't changed much since then from my original idea. So for any of you continuity freaks, remember this was started in the middle of season one and changes directions from the show from then on.
Author's Notes: O.K., I apologize for taking so long on this, but it's been a busy year! Five months of fieldwork is not conducive to getting a story written. Add to that the fact that my trusty betas are busier than I am and the result is that things take a while. I hope it was worth the wait. It's actually still a bit of a work in progress as my betas and I are still tweaking, but I figured at the rate we're going we'd never get it up so here it is. I want to thank everyone who has stuck with this story. I find it staggeringly flattering that anyone would follow a story for a year and a half! (especially at the rate that I post things). Have faith my friends, I will not abandon this story. I enjoy it too much. By the way, chapter 7 is about a third of the way done so hang in there.
Thanks as always to my trusty betas Joy, Chris and Mom, for making me think and for always being so supportive of my writing and every other aspect of my life.
Chapter 6
It was like walking through a minefield. Carefully, Max picked her way among the remnants of the massive trunks that littered the hillside like fallen soldiers from the day's battle. Even with her enhanced vision, she found herself stumbling in the deep trenches left behind by the machinery; trenches that were now hidden in the thick grass that was reclaiming the land around her. Stopping to gaze along the valley, Max couldn't begin to fathom how this razed land could ever return to the thriving forest it once was and the thought saddened her.
A clap of thunder jolted her out of her reverie as the storm moved ever closer from the southwest. The ominous clouds, pitted against the inky sky, filled her with an irrational sense of foreboding. It was probably already pouring back at the station. Logan would be worried.
Logan. Involuntarily, Max found her thoughts drifting back to their fight. They had lost control. She'd never lost control like that before and Max found herself reluctant to look for a reason, afraid she already knew what it was.
She felt a sudden shiver wash over her like a wave as she remembered the feel of his hand against her leg. Every point of contact had tingled with his touch, even through the heavy leather of her catsuit. For that brief moment, his warmth had washed over her and she had to fight the overwhelming urge to surrender to it… to climb down from her saddle, crawl into his lap and stay there. But then she remembered his words "Since when did you care, Max? I thought it was all just phoney sentimentality," and she felt all her barriers going back up. Did he really believe that? Her attempt to reach out had only caused more pain. She wasn't sure she could do it again. Still, she couldn't ignore the connection that raced between them at the contact. It was overwhelming… and terrifying. She had been so close to losing him last week and that had scared her more than she was willing to admit.
She had never felt this close to anyone before and to tell the truth, she had no idea how to handle it. They'd never exactly offered social lessons in her Manticore training. Until now, she'd been able to hide behind her 'female fog bank' as Darren had so eloquently put it. But Logan could see through the fog and for the first time, Max found herself wanting him to.
Suddenly, a rustling in the grass down the hill to the south snagged her attention. Soundlessly, she dropped to her knees, disappearing in the tall vegetation. Heart racing, she waited, mentally preparing herself for the worst, every muscle in her body taut and ready. Knowing she was downwind from her potential target, she inhaled quietly and deeply, trying to catch a scent through the pungent odour of new grass and the promise of rain. Catching a whiff of some sort of animal, Max released her breath. It wasn't a guard. Slowly, she peeked over the tops of the blades of grass and found herself staring into a pair of dark, shining eyes.
Max stifled a squeak, rising to balance on her haunches, unable or unwilling to break her gaze. She sucked in a breath as a flash of lightning revealed the eyes were set into a body and not simply hovering over the grass. Re-adjusting her eyes to the light, Max felt herself bristle, the cat in her genome making itself known. It was a dog… but it was more than a dog. It was sleek and held itself with purpose, its eyes belying cunning and curiosity. Max was transfixed. It was beautiful. The closest thing she'd ever come to a wild animal were the gulls down at the harbour but this was… amazing.
For what felt like hours, they regarded each other with a mixture of awe and wariness, until with a sharp huff, the animal turned and vanished into the night, the rustling of the vegetation the only evidence of its presence.
Before she could continue with her mission, Max was stopped in her tracks by a high-pitched, mournful howl echoing off the valley walls. As the sound faded, it was answered by a chorus of howls to the north, filling the oppressive night with their music.
"I guess I've just been welcomed to the neighbourhood," Max muttered under her breath as she rushed off to the plant.
***
Maggie smiled to herself as the chorus of howls echoed across the valley. Coyotes. Sparing a glance at her canine companion, she stifled a small chuckle. Otus was stock still, listening intently to his distant cousins below. Maggie welcomed the sound. The night had been too quiet. The encroaching storm seemed to hold the entire region in its thrall. The normal night sounds of the forest had been silent until now, as if holding their collective breaths in anticipation.
As the coyotes finished their conversation below, the night slipped again into an unnatural silence. Every muscle in Maggie's body was taut with wariness. The uncharacteristic worry in Max's eyes when she left and the eerie stillness of the forest had her every sense on a razor's edge. Eying Otus sitting next to her, Maggie felt a small tendril of warmth weave its way back into her mind, edging away ever so slightly at the worry. Her dog was at full alert, ready to protect them both. The realization allowed her to relax… if only just a little.
Suddenly, a sharp thump sent her heart leaping into her throat. Her pulse racing, Maggie scanned the darkness, desperately trying to anticipate the attack. The sound came again but this time she felt it…and all the air in her lungs escaped in a long sigh of relief. One by one, big fat raindrops struck the top of her hat. Pulling the felt brim further over her face, Maggie forced deep gulps of air into her lungs in an attempt to steady her erratic pulse.
It was going to be a long night.
***
Heavy winds drove the rain at nearly a forty-five degree angle into the massive green spires, diving the lone man forward as he sped along the trail and deeper into the night. Rivulets of water streamed relentlessly from the drooping bows, soaking into the mossy ground and seeping down the collar of Logan's already drenched jacket. He suppressed a shudder as a sodden cedar branch lashed his face as the horse drove him forward, underneath the tree's canopy. Gripping the saddle horn tightly in an effort to keep from slipping of the trotting animal, he carefully reached up to wipe the droplets from his glasses with only marginal success.
Despite the horrendous weather and the ever-present fear that nagged at his mind, Logan couldn't help the beginnings of a giddy smile that threatened to overtake his features. He felt like he was flying!
He couldn't feel where his legs touched the horse's flanks. It was as if one had become an extension of the other, like the centaurs of Greek mythology. It was completely different than his wheelchair. Though he knew he was still entirely dependent on Artemis to move, Logan felt free somehow. The gentle sway of the horse as he loped along the trail, as fast as the conditions would allow, was almost soothing. It felt natural. Under other circumstances, he would have enjoyed himself, a rarity of late.
Logan's sense of comfort was short-lived. A deafening crack of thunder brought his surroundings back into focus. They had already left the lake in their wake as Logan continued to urge Artemis along. For his own part, the horse continued to plough sure-footedly ahead, sensing the mounting urgency of his rider.
His heart pounded in his ears as the forest closed in on either side. Shadows suddenly became menacing, reaching out icy wet tendrils that clawed at them as they pushed their way through the moss-laded branches of a recently-fallen tree that blocked the path. Flashes of lightning revealed twisted forms and the illusion of glittering eyes. Thunder sent a shiver through both horse and rider and Logan fought to contain the dark foreboding that threatened to consume him. Pulling himself forward in the saddle, he urged Artemis on.
They had to make it.
***
She hit the gravelled courtyard with a soft 'thump'. Turning, Max smiled as she reflexively dusted herself off, pleased to confirm that she had not lost her edge and that clearing a 10-foot barbed-wire fence in one jump was still a piece of cake.
The orange glare of the halogen lights was nearly blinding after the darkness of the valley. Moving with the grace of a cougar, Max slipped into the shadows cast by the mountains of logs and allowed her eyes to adjust. Noiselessly, she made her way along the wall of timber towards the plant, on constant alert for signs of trouble.
The bulk of the storm was closer now. The air had cooled suddenly and thunder rumbled more insistently. Fat raindrops left deep imprints in the gravel yard. Max picked up the pace, the cat in her loath to get wet. As she rounded a corner, a flash of lightning illuminated the hulking form of one of the machines, its massive steel jaws glowering menacingly above the small woman. The crack of thunder followed almost immediately. It wasn't going to be much longer before the clouds burst. Steeling her resolve and making one last check for danger, Max covered the remaining distance to the main building with a tremendous burst of speed and flattened herself against the wall.
Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough. With another deafening roar of thunder, the sky opened up. Rain pelted down in cold sheets, running in rivulets along the cracks between the red bricks.
"Damn it!" Max muttered under her breath as she searched the wall for her intended target, shielding her eyes against the driving water. Spotting the window, Max sprung up onto the ledge and in one fluid movement, dispatched the lock and slipped inside.
The silence in the building was a shock after the roar of the storm outside. The atmosphere was still and heavy. Dust filled the air, flickering like tiny stars in the light filtering in from outside. The smell of sawdust and machine oil filled her nostrils. Bergstrom's operation was rather dated, with main offices immediately adjacent to the mill. The plant had been built long before architects had started separating the pencil pushers from the log drivers, building the sterile, clean offices that had characterized forestry companies that had cropped up before the pulse.
Crouching silently in the shadowed corner of the hallway, Max trained her ears for the sound of any unexpected guards. Maggie had been pretty sure the plant was left unguarded at night, a symbol of Bergstrom's air of invulnerability that he so loved to flaunt. But, Max didn't like to settle for even the slightest uncertainty. 'Pretty sure' had left her in hot water before.
Reassured by the oppressive silence of the building, she pulled a small towel out of her knapsack and quickly moped up the water beaded on her catsuit and rubbed the excess water from her hair. Finally, Max cleaned up the puddle she had made on the floor before returning the towel to its place in her bag. It wouldn't do any good to leave a trail of muddy footprints that even a child could follow and besides, the cat in her insisted on being as dry as possible. The only drawback was the room now had a clean spot underneath the window. Couldn't be helped. With luck, no one would really notice. Satisfied with her efforts, she made a beeline for Bergstrom's office. She was nearly to the door when it hit.
A debilitating wave of nausea sent her staggering, as she bit back a gasp. Max raised a shaky hand to the back of her head in a futile effort to stem the hot lance of pain that shot down her spine. Convulsing violently, she toppled forward, crying out as her kneecaps connected with the unforgiving linoleum, sending jolts of pain along her already oversensitive neurons. Tears leaked from her tightly closed eyelids as Max struggled to regain control.
'It's just another damn seizure' she repeated weakly in her mind, as if the thought alone could bring her out of the red haze of agony that threatened to consume her.
Blindly, she brought a handful of tryptophan from her pocket to her lips and forced herself to swallow, nearly crying out as the pills pushed their way past the constriction in her throat. Slumping against the door to Bergstrom's office, Max willed her faculties back to normal. The image of Maggie waiting for her alone on that ridge floated across her dazed mind, stirring the dark foreboding that refused to be stamped down at the thought of leaving her there. The strength of the feeling began to focus her scattered thoughts as the tryptophan began to take effect.
Painfully slowly, she narrowed her mind to that one thought. She had to get back to Maggie… now. Her hands began to still and her breathing deepened, filling her lungs with almost cleansing rushes of oxygen. Gradually, Max blocked out the pain, drawing all she could from her Manticore training. Carefully, she lifted herself to her feet, determination warring with the nearly overwhelming desire to sink into oblivion and escape the pain. Damn it, she was going to finish this.
***
The rain-soaked boughs of Douglas Fir swayed heavily in the driving wind. The loud groaning of their trunks could barely be heard over the pounding of the rain and the intermittent rumble of thunder. Maggie sat sullenly under a leaning trunk, peering through the wall of water for any sign of Max coming over the ridge.
'Let's just get this damn night over with. I'd give just about anything to be home, curled up in a warm dry bed.'
Home. Her thoughts drifted back to the station and Logan. Sighing heavily, Maggie recalled the look on her cousin's face as she and Max had ridden off into the sunset, so to speak. She knew it drove him nuts to be left behind, but he hadn't accepted any of her offers of help, so they had had no choice. Still, the wait must be killing him. It was killing her.
Maggie normally prided herself on her patience. Normally, she could sit for hours watching a bird or studying some other wildlife, but tonight she couldn't escape the restlessness. Even in its release, the storm bore down on her, reducing the range of her senses and increasing her edginess with each flash of lightning. The din of the rain and the roar of the thunder made it nearly impossible to detect an approaching intruder.
Compulsively, Maggie glanced at her watch, only to find it one minute later than when she had last checked. Sighing, she brought the timepiece to her ear. Still ticking. Time itself had slowed to a crawl. She shuddered in disgust as an icy droplet of water, freed from the confines of her braided hair, trailed its way down the collar of her raincoat, under her flannel shirt and then to the small of her back, leaving a cold trail in its wake.
"I think I've had just about enough rain to last me a week, huh Otus?" Maggie muttered to the sodden animal crouched at her side. The dog looked up forlornly at the sound of his name then dropped his head heavily back down onto his paws.
But the storm showed no signs of abating and Max wasn't due back for another ten minutes. Raising the collar of her raincoat against any further icy invasions, Maggie settled under the log to wait.
Then she felt it.
The hair on her arms and the back of her neck suddenly stood at attention. Someone was near.
Otus snapped to full alert with a soft woof, sniffing the air, trying to isolate a scent in the soaked atmosphere. Maggie's heart kicked into overdrive as she watched her companion, searching the darkness for the source of the discomfort amid the chaos of the storm. Slowly and silently, she edged her diminutive form further into the shadows under the massive log, shrouding herself in the ferns trailing over the ancient wood. Tapping into all her training as a naturalist, she sat stock still, straining her ears through the noise of the storm for any signs of an approach but she knew in the back of her mind that if Otus couldn't hear anything, neither would she.
Suddenly, Maggie's heart leapt into her throat at the sound of rustling in the nearby underbrush. Forcing herself to breathe silently through her nose, she reached for her belt. Trembling fingers clutched at the hilt of her hunting knife, a flick of her thumb releasing the clasp that held it in place. From what Max and Logan had told her, she knew she was no match for these soldiers, but damned if she wasn't going to go down fighting.
Another rustle … closer this time. The horses tethered nearby shifted nervously; their soft whinnies heightening Maggie's apprehension. They were sitting ducks and she knew it. Drawing her knife from its sheath, she waited for the coming blow. The world around her narrowed, the roar of the rain fading behind the relentless pounding of her heart and the rustling in the bush that now seemed to be circling her, coming closer… closer… Maggie braced herself as she felt the presence nearly on top of her, one hand clutching the knife, the other holding Otus silent, praying against hope that they had still not been discovered. Giving into the overwhelming fear, she closed her eyes waiting for the attack and … nothing.
The sigh of relief died in her lungs as a small but strong hand closed over her throat. Panicked, her eyes flew open and she instinctively swung the knife in her right hand up from its place at her hip, slicing her assailant's outer wrist.
An angry shriek cut through the din of the storm, as yet another crack of thunder rocked the valley. But instead of releasing its grip, the hand tightened, slowly closing off Maggie's air supply. Gasping frantically, Maggie was flung forward through the sodden ferns and into the open, slamming into an exposed rock with a sickening thud. The knife she had been so desperately holding on to was knocked out of her hands by the impact, coming to rest in the ferns at the base of the rock. Her hat, on the other hand, went skidding across the mossy forest floor. Through the thick haze of pain and oxygen deprivation, she heard Otus growling menacingly, the sound bringing a weak smile to her split lips.
'Get 'em boy!' she mentally cheered as she listened to her faithful friend snarling and barking at her assailant. But her hope was short-lived. As the spinning world began to right itself and her vision cleared, Maggie caught a glimpse of a lithe dark figure in the backlighting of a sheet of lightning. As the massive dog lunged for the figure, the scene before her became a blur of movement in the shadows, ending with a pained yelp that sliced through her heart. Thunder muffled the sob that escaped her brutalized throat as the figure turned again and Maggie found herself staring through the watery veil into the glittering eyes of her predator.
Fighting down her rising panic, Maggie felt blindly for her knife in the waterlogged leaf litter, never breaking her gaze from those dark, emotionless eyes. Suddenly an arc of lightning overhead bathed the forest in a blanket of light, seeping into every corner and Maggie gasped.
"Sarah!"
"Time's up, Maggie." The woman hissed.
"Why?" The seconds stretched into an eternity in Maggie's head. 'Keep her talking. Max'll be here any second. I've got to find a way to warn her.'
"I have my orders. Why is irrelevant," was the soulless answer. "Your termination is the final objective and I will complete my mission."
"So that's all I am. Just another job for you?" Maggie fought to keep her voice level as her fingers closed over the wooden hilt of her knife.
"I do as I'm ordered." Sarah snapped and, for a brief instant, Maggie thought she noticed a very slight waver in her attacker's voice, as though she was not as in control as she seemed. Desperate for any potential weakness, Maggie kept prodding.
"And what's in it for you, Sarah?" Maggie seethed as she tightened her grip on her only weapon and slowly brought her legs beneath her, waiting for the next round. "What do you get? Money? Honour? Job satisfaction?"
"Enough!" The soldier roared as she lunged at the scientist, but this time, Maggie was ready. Rearing back on her haunches like a cornered animal, she thrust the knife forward, sinking it into Sarah's flesh, just under her left clavicle as the other woman grasped Maggie by the shoulders. Growling, Sarah flung the small woman backwards at a frightening speed. All the air in her lungs was forced out painfully as Maggie's back cracked against the unyielding trunk of a nearby cedar and her body slumped to the ground like a rag doll.
Knowing she was dead if she closed her eyes, Maggie shook her head violently, wincing as her mind screamed out against the assault, trying to clear the fog enough to stand. Through her tear-filled eyes, she watched her would-be killer warily and gasped as she saw the woman pull the knife from her shoulder as though it were embedded in butter. Not even a wince creased her features as the blade cleared her flesh. The biologist's mind raced wildly as she tried desperately to figure out just what she was up against. Logan and Max were right. These were not your ordinary soldiers.
As the knife hit the ground, lightning again blazed across the sky and for a brief moment, Maggie got a good look at the face of her attacker. What she saw chilled her to the bone. A dark emptiness gazed unerringly back at her. There was no trace of the Sarah she thought she knew. There was no spark of remorse or even satisfaction to colour her features. It was like staring at a killing machine.
As her heart thudded wildly in her chest, Maggie drew as deep a breath as her battered lungs would allow. Bracing herself against the spongy bark of the cedar behind her, she watched as the soldier crossed the distance between them with a purposeful stride, the rumble of thunder sounding like a death knell overhead. Every bone in Maggie's body screamed in pain and her mind swam with fog. She knew she was no match for what was coming toward her, but damned if she wasn't going to cling to every last minute of life that she could. If she could just hold on a little longer, she might find a way to warn Max and at least save her life.
Her attacker lunged like a jungle cat across the last few feet and Maggie struggled fiercely as she felt a hand clamp around her throat. Eyes wide from lack of oxygen, she gasped like a fish out of water as the soldier slipped her fingers on either side of her spinal cord. Up close, Maggie could make out a cold fire in her killer's eyes, the faint glow of blood lust a predator has just before the final blow.
In one last moment of terror, Maggie closed her eyes against the penetrating stare as she waited for the snap that would send her into oblivion… but it never came. She opened her eyes to a blur of motion as a large body slammed into the predator's flank, knocking her off her feet. Maggie was flung forward as the chokehold was released. She rested on her knees in the cool moss, trying to force air into her starving lungs. She watched through clouded eyes as her would-be assassin came up kicking, landing a well-placed foot into her saviour's stomach, who took the blow as if it was little more than a nudge.
The horses still tethered nearby pulled at their reins as the two figures continued their battle, like a well-choreographed dance. Brushing a stray lock of wet hair from her eyes, Maggie squinted through the rain trying to identify her rescuer.
As a yet another sheet of lightning flooded the forest floor, Maggie gasped as she caught sight of short black curls bouncing around the head of the woman warding off her attacker.
"Max!" Maggie cursed inwardly as the croak that was her voice was barely audible over the roar of the storm.
It was still enough to get Max's attention. As she turned to check on Logan's cousin, she left herself open. In that split second, a fist collided with her jaw and she staggered backwards at a sickening angle.
Maggie watched, horrified as Sarah grabbed a handful of Max's hair, yanking the other girl forward so that they were face-to-face in the darkness.
Wrenching herself from her opponent's grasp, Max brought a shaky hand to her mouth. The chaos surrounding them seemed to evaporate as she spoke.
"Brin?" The name was weighed heavily with pain and horror.
Staring back, her eyes steely, her attacker smiled.
"Hello, little sister."