Author's note: Used Collins's rant about the wolf spider from "Toby or Not Toby" (season 2 episode 24).

Not sure how many more chapters there will be. The last chapter (35) supposed to be "The Last Chapter" but due to circumstances beyond my control, it is not. Postings may be erratic for the next few months (even more so than they are already). I'm involved in another writing project for my Zorro fandom and for which I may also receive royalties. I've earned a whopping $17.80 so far on the other Zorro book project I worked on earlier this year. I have finally lost my amateur status as a writer.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

"Walter, do you know why the wolf spider is a Darwinian marvel?" Collins asked out of the blue. Staring at the road ahead, Walter watched as they drove past a few scattered houses, far enough apart to still be considered to be 'out of town.'

He diverted his eyes from the windshield to his companion behind the wheel. The wolf spider? Why was Mark bring up such a common spider, a species which were mildly venomous and were opportunistic hunters who often ambushed their prey. . .? Unless. . . Did Collins think himself to be like a wolf spider? Venomous and opportunistic? Walter could hardly believe the other man would whimsically compare himself to an arachnid.

"Because it lives alone," Mark answered his own question before Walter had the chance. "That is what makes it superior. It depends on nobody. Does that remind you of somebody?"

Okay, so he was comparing himself to a spider. Unless. . . Walter was supposed be the spider. Which made no sense at all. Collin's time at the mental institution had obviously not been well spent.

Once again, Collins continued on before Walter could open his mouth. "Kicking me off Scorpion was a deep betrayal."

Hindsight was 20/20 but Walter knew firing Mark and getting him the mental help he needed have been the best thing he could have done for the other man. At the time though, he had second and third guessed himself on whether he had done the right thing. Odd Collins considered Walter's actions a betrayal. He had been the one who had been betrayed. Betrayed by someone he thought he could trust and had his best interests in mind. Instead of depriving him of both food and sleep for days on end. . . Pushing him to the edge of his own sanity. . . Just so Walter would become compliant and easily manipulated into unquestioningly obeying Mark's warped demands. It had almost killed him.

"But it served me well."

"Uh, huh." Half listening to Collins' rambling, Walter caught a glimpse of a sign bearing the town's name. Lucerne Valley; population, 5,200; elevation, 2,935 feet. He tucked those facts into his memory banks, pleased to learn his current location. Up ahead, he noticed a lone car with its headlights on, sitting in the parking lot of a small grocery store. As they drew closer, Walter could see a star imprinted on its door and the light bar resting on the vehicle's roof, a positive indication it was a law enforcement vehicle.

A plan swiftly formed in his head and he wasted no time putting it into action by quietly unbuckling his seat belt and hoping the indicator light would go unnoticed.

". . .and you are what Scorpion made you - a weak and feeble man," Mark declared, his contempt plain. "Who cares about feelings and senti. . . What are you doing?, Roll that window back up!"

"I need some fresh air," Walter said as he leaned into the wind flowing into the van. "I can think better when I'm fully oxygenated."

"Fine," Collins sneered before picking up where he left off. "Feelings and sentiment and friends rather than about loyalty to the only person who was truly your friend. You didn't need the others then and you don't need them now. It will just be you and me this time. No outside interference. Who knows what we'll be able to accomplish together. It will be perfect. You'll see."

Walter took a deep breath as their vehicle came within a few feet of the police car. His plan had to succeed. . . Because the future Collins had mapped out for them. . . He definitely wanted no part of it.

Sticking his head and his upper torso out of the open portal, he yelled, "Hey! Hey, pig!" It was a term he'd heard Happy use while talking about the police. Then he imitated a gesture he'd seen Toby make on several occasions, although he wasn't sure which finger remained upright. Using the middle finger on one hand and his ring finger on the other, both feeling awkward, he waved them in the cop's direction. "Hey! Pig!"

"What the. . .?" Collins grabbed the back of Walter's shirt and started yanking on it. "Stop this nonsense!"

He shouted even louder as Mark tried to pull him back inside. Trying to struggle out of the other man's grasp, he noted he'd finally captured the officer's attention as the patrol car's light bar flipped on.

"Get in here!" The combination of Walter relaxing and Collins's sharp tug caused Walter to tumble back inside, falling against the other man. The van careened out of control as Mark had only one hand on the steering wheel. He narrowly missed hitting a light pole before swerving back out into the center of the street.

Walter untangled himself and climbed back into his seat, the lights from the cop's vehicle flashing in the side mirror. A smile of satisfaction flickered over his lips as a siren blipped on and off.

"Damn you, Walter," Collins said through gritted teeth. "You'll pay for this." He jerked the van to the side of the street.

Barely waiting until they'd come to a complete stop, Walter jumped out and ran toward the patrol car as the officer stepped out.. "My name is Walter O'Brien," he said in a rush. "I'm being kidnapped by an escaped inmate from the Atascadero State Mental Institution. He kidnapped my...m-my fiancée, and uh, a Guatemalan midwife t-too, and tried to steal our baby and he blackmailed. . ."

"Whoa, slow down there, buddy," the cop said, his hand resting on his holster. "Your fiancée and baby and this midwife, are they in the van?"

"No, they're at the barn." He dragged his hands through his hair in an attempt to control his frustration.

"I can explain, Officer," Collins said as he strolled out from the other side of the van, his arms half-raised in the air.

"Who are you?" asked the cop. His fingers tightened on the butt of his firearm.

"I'm Walter O'Brien, and this. . ." Mark pointed at Walter, who could only stare in disbelief, "is Mark Collins, the escaped inmate."

The officer, whose name tag read 'Hernandez,' jerked his thumb toward Walter. "He says he's O'Brien.

"Of course, he does," Collins replied calmly. "He's a psychopathic liar. Can't believe a word he says."

"No!" Walter shouted, panic rising inside him. Dammit, he couldn't let Mark get away with taking everything from him, including his name. "That's you! You're the one who escaped this morning. You're the one who blackmailed Yolondra so she'd help you kidnap Paige and steal Nicky. You're the psychopath, not me."

Collins chuckled before saying, "He's always coming up with some cockamamie story. He couldn't tell the truth to save his life." Circling his finger around his ear, he nodded his head toward Walter. "Crazy as a bedbug."

"You need to listen to me, not him. I'm telling you the truth." A sudden thought crossed Walter's mind. "I have proof of my identity," he said, reaching into the front pocket of his jeans. His wallet wasn't there. It wasn't in any of the other pockets he frantically searched. He groaned when he remembered why. Mark had taken it after he'd chlorofoamed him back at the barn.

"Well?" Hernandez sounded impatient.

"He stole it from me," Walter said, pointing at Collins.

Turning to Mark, the officer said, "let me see your ID."

"No problem." Collins pulled out a billfold, which looked exactly like Walter's, from inside his jacket and handed it over.

Flipping it open, the cop shined a flashlight on its contents before sliding out one of the cards. "Yep, it says Walter O'Brien."

"What about the photo? That's me, not him."

"Nope, it's a picture of him." Officer Hernandez held up the license so Walter could see it.

"That's not possible." Walter stared at his former friend, saw the smug smirk on the other man's face, and realized Collins must have swapped out the pictures while he'd been unconscious.

"I'm going to have to verify all this with the State Police," the cop said before walking back to his car.

A cold sweat broke over Walter. If he didn't think of something fast, he was going to be locked up in the same mental institution where he'd placed Collins. And although it may be a temporary situation until everything could be straightened out, he couldn't be with Paige and Ralph and Nicky. . .his son he'd only held for a few moments. How long would it be before he would be able to hold him again?

His common sense blinded by the overwhelming fear he'd never see his family again , Walter ran after Hernandez and grabbed his arm. "You have to believe me," he insisted forcefully as he yanked the man around to face him.

"Okay, that's it, buddy." Freeing himself from Walter's grasp, the cop shoved him backward up against the patrol car's front fender before spinning him around and slamming him face down on the hood.

"No! He's setting me up!" His pleas went unheeded as his arms were pulled behind his back and cuffs slapped on his wrists.

"Why in the hell wasn't he restrained in the first place?" the officer asked Collins, who tried and failed to hide a grin.

"It's some kind of touchy-feely BS policy the yahoos up in Sacramento implemented," Mark replied before faking a heavy sigh. "You know how it is."

Hernandez nodded. "I hear ya. Damn politicians. What do they know what we have to put up with dealing with these crazy-ass criminals." He opened the door and paused. "Hey, keep an eye on him while I call this in."

"Sure thing." Collins, the red and blue lights flashing eerily on his face, sidled up beside Walter as the officer slipped inside his car. Walter tensed as Mark leaned down so close to his ear, he could feel the other man's whiskers brushing against his skin.

"Goodbye, Walter," he whispered. "Or should I say goodbye Mark Collins." Walter didn't know if his erstwhile friend was saying farewell to him or to himself. "I hope you enjoy your stay in the looney bin as much as I did."

With that, Collins turned and walked away, slipping around to the other side of the van and into the darkness. His footsteps quickened as their sound faded.

"NO!" The word torn itself from Walter's throat. "Hey!" he shouted, and when the cop still ignored him, he yelled again. "Hey! Dammit! He's getting away!"

Hernandez stepped out of his vehicle. "Keep it down, buddy," he said. "People are trying to sleep."

"He's getting away!" Walter repeated. "He's Mark Collins. He's the dangerous psychopath."

"We've already been over this," the cop said before glancing around, his expression changing from irritation to concern when he noticed Collins was missing . "Hey, where he'd go? I need to see your transfer papers."

"I don't know." Dammit, he didn't have time for this nonsense. It was going to take hours to prove his identity. Hours he didn't have to spare. Collins would be long gone, to who knows where, lurking until he decided to upend Walter's life once again. He couldn't let that happen.

Going over the things Collins had said to him from the moment he awakened in the barn, he realized the other man had revealed a glaring clue to where he was heading. But had it been accidental or intentional? Only one way to find out. Walter straightened up, gritting his teeth as his back and shoulders protested the movement.

"Wait, I know where's he's going," he declared, his confidence growing that he was right.

"You just said you didn't know where. . ."

"I know, but I hadn't thought it through. You need to uncuff me so we can go find him He's heading for South. . ."

"You're not going anywhere, Collins," said the officer.

"I'm not Mark Collins," Walter stated, his desperation creeping into his tone. "I am Walter O'Brien. Everything I've told you is true. I don't lie. I only state facts."

"Sure ya do, pal," Hernandez scoffed.. "You and every other dirtbag criminal out there. You're staying put until I get this straightened out." He let out a short laugh as he shook his head as he went back into the patrol car.

Walter stared at the officer. Who didn't believe him. Who wasn't going to help. Who was only going to make matters worse by delaying going after Collins. There was really only one thing left for him to do.

Walter ran. Past the now abandoned van. Down the deserted street. Ignoring the cop's shouts of "Hey!" and "Freeze!" He kept running even when he stumbled, his equilibrium thrown off by having his hands bound behind his back. But he kept forging ahead. He veered left, around the first corner he encountered, certain Collins would head back to the barn so he could take Nicky away from Paige as revenge for Walter spoiling his plans.

His upper shoulder blades were hit with two sharp stings, then electricity jolted through his body, stopping him in his tracks. As he shuddered from the shock, he looked over his shoulder to see Hernandez standing a few meters behind him, gasping for breath, wires from the taser he held in his hand stretched out in front of him.

The involuntary disrupting of his neuromuscular receptors incapacitated his arms and legs and his vision began to darken. He felt himself falling face first, pain ripping through him as his chin cracked against the pavement a split second before everything went black.