Warning: Rated for language, some violence and adult behavior.

The main characters of this story are based on characters from the cartoon 'Code Lyoko.' I do not own, nor do I claim, any copyright to these characters.


I must be insane, thought the man as he rode through the darkness. The night was clear and cold, and getting colder by the second. The single headlight of his motorcycle blazed ahead of its single wheel, illuminating the two lane road he was on, in the middle of the mountains.

I must be insane, he thought again, no sane person rides this kind of road at night! And certainly not in zero degree weather! If the cold don't get me, some roadkill in training will. Why am I out here?

The man continued on into the night, all the while asking himself what he was doing. No answer was forthcoming. At one point, he came to a small dirt road and turned onto it.

I swear, Connie's got a mind of her own tonight!

He carefully traversed the road, taking special care to look for wildlife and low hanging branches. Soon, he came to a little cabin in a clearing. The bike turned towards the cabin, then died as it pulled up.

"Great. Stuck in the middle of nowhere!" the man said to no one in particular.

He flipped up the front of his helmet, then took it off. The cold slapped him in the face like an insulted woman. He fished around and found his cell phone. He checked the signal, then dialed a number. He put the phone to his ear and started talking.

"Yeah, it's me. Yeah, I'm broke down again. No, I don't know why, she just died! Yeah, I know what time it is, and I know how cold it is out! Will you shut up and come get me! You got my 20 on the phone, right? What! An hour! Well, okay; there's a cabin here, I can at least get out of the wind. Yeah, thanks."

He ended the call and put the phone away. I swear I'm going to sell this bucket of bolts one of these days! He shook his head and walked into the cabin.

The door was open, and all of the windows were broken out, local kids probably. He looked about in the gloom and saw something lying on the floor. He thought it was some junk, that is until it moved and moaned. The mass of something then resolved itself into a young woman, a Japanese girl. She was wearing some kind of cocktail dress and little else. He walked over to her and set his helmet down on the floor. He took a close look at her, and saw she was in trouble. Close to her was what looked like fairly fresh vomit, and the girl was visibly shuddering. He took off his gloves and felt her forehead, almost jerking his hand away, she was so hot. He fumbled about and found his cell phone again, and dialed.

"9-1-1? Yeah, I'm out here in the mountains, and I've come across a girl, and she looks like she's in trouble... No, I don't know where I'm at road wise, but I can give you GPS coordinates." He rattled off some numbers from his cell phone. "Yeah... she's Japanese, pretty young. Looks like she was at a party. I can also smell liquor, and there's an empty vodka bottle here. No, no coat I can see, nothing. Yeah... I've got some stuff in my bike; I'm going to go get it. I'm setting the phone down next to her; maybe she can tell you something."

He set the phone on the floor next to the girl.

"Honey, can you hear me? I've got 9-1-1 on the other end of the line, and I want you to talk to them if you can. We're going to get someone out here to help you as quick as possible, so hang in there! I'll be back in a minute."

The man then got up and ran out of the cabin.


Yumi was lost in delirium now. Darker shapes flitted about her in the darkness, just waiting to feast on her soul once she died. She felt like whatever had infected her was almost literally eating her alive. Her head and spine were one constant throb, and she was alternately burning hot and freezing cold. She felt herself starting to slip away now, not just from consciousness, but life.

Then she felt him. Ulrich, her Love, her Life, was with her. She could feel his arms slide around her, pulling her close to him. She felt his love and his strength flow down the bond between them, and she recovered just a little. He continued on though, sending love and strength to her, until he had no more. As the despair started to slowly creep back, he suddenly sent her more love, more strength, from some reserve, some place she never knew he had. And then it grew, and grew. Now she recognized what was sustaining her, healing her; it was the Host of Heaven itself, imparting some its strength, its love on to her through Ulrich. Nothing could stand against them, nothing.

Whatever René had infected her with was beat back, and finally destroyed. Yumi would live, if she didn't die from exposure first.

She opened her eyes a crack. There, she saw figures standing all around her, the Host. They glowed softly in the night, men and women ready for battle, well worn armor and weapons at the ready. They stood there protecting her, until help could arrive.

Yumi didn't know how long she lay there, guarded by her angels, supported by her husband so far away, but soon, everything faded. Everything except for the whine of a motor getting closer. It came right up to the cabin, then abruptly stopped. She heard some movement outside, then a man's voice talking to someone, probably on a cell phone. She tried calling out to whoever was there, but couldn't because she was too weak. Now she feared that she would die within inches of rescue. Then she heard footsteps.

The figure of a man appeared in the open doorway, a large, rotund man. He stood there for a moment, looking around the room. She tried to call out, but only a soft moan escaped her lips as she shivered again. The figure finally noticed her, and hurried over to her. He set something down on the floor, some kind of helmet, and looked her over. He took off his gloves and placed his bare hand against her forehead, then quickly pulled it back. His touch had been cold, the greatest thing she had ever felt at that moment.

The man sat back, pulled out his cell phone, and dialed his phone. He spoke with the someone for a moment, then set the phone down close to her.

"Honey, can you hear me?" he said, "I've got 9-1-1 on the other end of the line, and I want you to talk to them if you can. We're going to get someone out here to help you as quick as possible, so hang in there! I'll be back in a minute." He got up and ran from the room.

"Miss? Miss? Can you hear me?" came a voice from the phone.

"Yes," Yumi finally croaked out, coughing as she did.

"What's your name?" the voice asked.

"Yumi. Yumi Ishiyama," she replied.

"Where are you, Yumi?"

"I don't know."

"How did you get there?"

"I don't know. Drugged." Yumi was exhausted from just this small conversation.

The man came back in, with a bundle of something in his arms. He picked up the phone and said, "I've got a survival blanket and a motorcycle cover with me. You really need to get an EMT out here, ASAP. Yeah, the cops probably wouldn't be a bad idea either."

The man said, "I'm going to bundle her up, hold on," and set the phone down. He dropped the bundle, then rummaged around in it until he found a small package. He opened it and removed the contents, then began unfolding it. It quickly became a large sheet of what looked like reflective mylar. He laid it down on the floor, then took Yumi and put her in the middle of it. When he touched her wet clothing he exclaimed, "my God, what happened to you! I'm sorry miss, but I'm going to have to get you out of those things." With that, he undid his jacket and took it off. He then pulled the sweater he was wearing under the jacket off and set it to the side. He then carefully rolled Yumi over, found the zipper to her dress, and undid it.

"I'm sorry, but I have to do this," he said, then pulled the dress down from her shoulders. Yumi wasn't wearing a bra or a camisole under the dress; with so much skin exposed to the air, she was even colder now than she had been a moment before. When he slid the dress down to her waist, he took the sweater he removed and put it on her.

The man then laid her on the mylar sheet, then pulled the dress the rest of the way off. Even in the dark, Yumi saw the man had an embarrassed look on his face as he reached up and removed her panties, throwing them with her dress.

Finally, he took the bottom of the mylar sheet and folded it up over her feet and legs as far as it would fold. He then took one side and pulled it up and around her, tucking it in on the other side. He then did the same with the other side, swaddling her. Next, he took the rest of the bundle and wrapped her in it. After finishing, he put his jacket back on and zipped it up. He then took the whole bundle, Yumi and all, and dragged it over to a wall, to a spot away from as many of the open windows and door as he could. He sat down, propped her head on his lap, and spoke into the phone again.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I've got her bundled up as good as I can, but you had better get her fast. Landmarks? I don't know. I'm off the main road in a small cabin though, and there's a dandelion yellow Kawasaki Concours parked in front of it. Yeah, I'll stay on the line..."

After giving the dispatcher as much information as he could, the man hung up the cell phone. As Yumi started to drift into unconsciousness, he leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, then began to softly sing. She had never heard words like this before, but she seemed to understand what he was singing. In her imagination, she saw luscious green trees, their leaves fluttering in the gentle breeze. She felt the warm sun on her skin and even more, she felt the sense of utter peace that washed over her as she slipped away.


As her eyes closed, he reopened his eyes, still singing softly to the heavens. His eyes glowed in the dark, betraying his possession. Just as demons sometimes possessed men to do their Evil, angels would sometimes possess men to do their Good. Such was the case tonight; a good man suddenly gets the urge for a late night ride into the country, his every step seemingly guided by Someone Above. The angel controlling him pointed the way, making sure everything was in place and ready for this rescue.

The gathered Host now reappeared and joined their comrade in song. They sang of Earth-That-Was, the world before The Struggle began. The song was bittersweet, the memories almost too painful to remember. But the song also was a reminder that there was Hope; that one day Earth would be restored to what it was in the beginning.


The lights hurt her eyes. About an hour after the man came, an ambulance arrived, along with the police and another man, her rescuer's friend. The EMT checked her out, asked her some questions, then prepared her for the ride to the hospital. One of the techs muttered, "damn, I'm surprised she's still alive," and continued his work. They put an IV in her arm and started pumping fluids into her.

The police spoke with the man who had saved her for quite a while. Then the officer came over and spoke with her, asking her if the man had been the one who brought her here. She said no, two others did. The EMT then told the officer that they needed to get Yumi to the hospital, and their questions could wait until later.

As they put her in back, Yumi got a better look at the man who saved her. He was wearing all yellow clothes, leather, it looked like. He had what looked like brownish red hair, with bits of white in it. His face was somewhere between round and blocky, and he had a white mustache and wore glasses. He carried a helmet out to the motorcycle and set it there. Both the bike and the helmet were yellow, too. As the man stood there and talked to his friend, she noticed the most striking thing about him.

On the back of his jacket was a picture of a dark haired woman, straddling a huge banana. On top of the banana was a motorcycle helmet, and in front of the banana was what looked like the front wheel of a motorcycle, spinning. The woman was leaning forward, hugging the banana close to her, her hair whipping back like she was moving. Above and below the picture was the phrase, "Women Love the Phat Banana."


At the hospital, people kept asking her questions as she tried to go to sleep. They would ask her things like, what's your name? How old are you? Is there someone we can contact? Do you know your blood type? She answered as best she could.

All the while, nurses came in and checked her out, admonishing her to stay awake. One came in and drew what seemed like a gallon of blood. Finally, a doctor came in and looked her over. He checked her eyes and her throat, and got a strange look when he looked there.

"Yumi, did you hurt your mouth tonight?" he asked.

"No, but something tasted funny when I woke up at the cabin," she replied.

"Well, it looks like you cut your tongue on something sharp, several times," he replied, "the cuts don't look too deep, but I'd love to know how they got there."

Yumi could only shake her head, she didn't have any answers for him.

Finally, the doctor finished. "I think we will need to run some tests, get some x-rays. Given some of what I've heard from the EMTs and what I've seen, I would like to draw some spinal fluid to rule out spinal meningitis or something like that. Also, the police are here, and want to do a rape kit."

"Huh, rape kit?"

"Yes. Given what they saw at that cabin, they think you might have been sexually assaulted. They want a sample from your vagina for DNA testing and evidence. You don't have to have it done if you don't want to, but if there's any chance you might have been raped out there, I'd do it."

"Okay, I'll do both," Yumi replied.

Afterwards, Yumi had trouble deciding which was worse, the rape kit or the spinal tap. Both had been uncomfortable in different ways.

The spinal tap was relatively simple. They came in, applied a local anesthetic, and stuck a needle in her back, drawing out some spinal fluid. They put a bandage over the puncture, and told her to be careful about sitting up or moving about for a while. She found out why when she rolled over. Immediately, she got a near blinding headache, which lasted for a few minutes.

The rape kit was a different kind of discomfort. She had pelvic exams before, but they usually warmed and lubricated the instruments before they used them. They didn't do either in this case. The nurse explained that they couldn't have anything on the instruments that could contaminate the evidence and render it useless. It also didn't help that a male police detective had to stand there and watch the whole procedure, seeing parts of her that only her doctor and Ulrich had a right to see. But the nurse quickly got the samples required in the manner necessary to satisfy the law, and they left, returning her to her room.

Finally the doctor came back. "Well, I've got some of the results of your blood work, and you are a mess. Your white blood cell count is abnormally high, which tells me you are fighting one hell of an infection somewhere. You've also got a blood alcohol level about three times the legal limit for driving. Plus, you've got a 103 degree fever, and it looks like it's coming down from somewhere higher. All in all, I'd say you're lucky to be alive right now."

Yumi just smiled weakly at him.

"Anyway, I'm putting you on antibiotics through your IV to see if that knocks the fever down. We'll be watching you at least overnight, and in the morning, we hopefully will know more."

With that, the doctor left.

The nurse came in after the doctor and told the girl that the police wanted to talk to her, but she told them that Yumi needed to rest, and they could wait until the morning. She then said that there was another man wanting to see her, that he was with her when she was brought in.

At the door peering in, Yumi saw the Phat Banana, the man who had saved her. She smiled and motioned the man to come in. The nurse left, saying she would be back shortly.

"Thank you," Yumi told him once they were alone, "I don't think I would be alive if you hadn't found me."

"Glad to be of service," the man replied, smiling, "you're just lucky Connie has a mind of her own. I don't think I could have found that place if my life depended on it."

"Well, maybe I should thank her when I see her," Yumi said, "but I thought you were alone?"

"I was. Connie's my bike," he replied, "she's cantankerous as hell, but if you treat her right, she'll take you anywhere and back again. Look, do you have anyone you need to call?" He reached in his yellow jacket and pulled out his cell phone. "Here, call anyone you want, I've got enough minutes on my plan to call Mars and talk for a day."

She took the phone and called the only number she could think of, Allen Maxwell's. Sandy answered the phone, and Yumi explained her situation and where she was. Sandy said they would be out there immediately and hung up.

"Thanks," she told the man, "I needed to hear a familiar voice. Look, I don't want to keep you any longer, I'm sure you've got a long ways to go tonight. And what do I call you, Phat? Mr. Banana?"

The man smiled, "nah, that's just a nickname. Name's Terry Preston, from up in Hagerstown. Pleased to meet ya."

"Yumi Ishiyama. I'm very glad I met you, Terry. Thanks for all you've done."

"No problem. Rest well and good luck." The man smiled and left.

Yumi finally settled down and relaxed. She was still hurting, and she was still ill, but she felt better and safer now than she had all night.

As she drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard Terry Preston's voice say, "the Host will always stand by you, Yumi."