Of Wolves and Devils: A Dark Angel Fanfiction Story
Episode 14:
A few nights later, down at Crash…
It's kind of a chill night.
Twenty to fifteen people have all got computer boxes out as they drink glasses at their tables, playing songs from the good old bad old Pre-Post days.
At one table is Max, sitting across from Original Cindy and Tara Colka.
A pitcher of beer is before them all.
Tara's got her mostly brink pink computer box playing the song Freedom by Joi: The official movie theme version.
Max wears a ripped and torn sleeveless black top: With a mostly dark red sticker like banner with Hal 9000 at center in black and white letters, and letters painted over and beyond in white to say "Max 9000 Kicking Hal Ass".
Tara is in a mostly brink pink dress with gray splotches. Original Cindy is in a light green T-shirt with moon base like blueprints over it.
Max solemnly thinks out loud, "this track is awesome. What is it?"
Tara slightly smiles, "thank you. It is from Panther."
Max takes a sip from her beer.
She then adds, "sorry. But, I still don't understand."
Before Tara can add more… Original Cindy offers, "it's aiight. I got this. Check it. A movie about the Black Panther Party for Self Defense and their struggle against FBI, and all sorts of oppression on all fronts for black people."
Impressed sounding, Max goes, "nice. Maybe I should ask Logan where I can help myself to a copy." Tara reasons, "you don't have to. I already got."
Max figures, "real nice. Maybe we could all watch later some time."
With a slight smile, Original Cindy implies, "I'm good if we all are."
Tara concludes casually, "I could go for it whenever."
Max says, "good. So… Just how long have you been getting serious?"
Original Cindy drinks down some of her beer.
Then… A little embarrassed, Original Cindy admits, "since the first night."
Max looks surprised, "really? Not that I'm judging. I...just thought you weren't that kind of girl."
Original Cindy explains, "well normally, no. But, her ad had so much flavor…that I just had to go for it then and there."
With some amusement, Tara openly surmises, "I was looking for fast. So, I figured what the hell? Just put as much about me as possible without the Sector Police kicking me out for being explicit. But, the blurred picture sure helped."
Kind of sarcastically, Max remarks, "damn. You're a cop and kicking it explicit with my home girl? You must be good."
Original Cindy reflectively adds, "girl, Tara is the warrior princess."
With a smile, Tara figures, "well, your warrior princess. Some cops give me a hard time for being me. But, I can take them if I got to."
Max says, "yeah. I feel you."
Tara responds firmly, "thank you."
Before drinking some more beer… Max insists casually, "not a problem."
Elsewhere, deeper into the night…
Syl is on a late run, biking her way out to Lake City. She's in her dark blue army jacket, over a sky like top with a halo of fire across.
She finds three scrap metal houses in a row, with thinly grass covered lawns.
She's carrying up a kind of small black purple package with purple splotches as she heads up the mostly wax yellow like stairs of one of the houses.
It has a grayish swirled looking door and pale blue walls.
Syl is thinking to herself, "well…this is some strange house. I'm looking forward to the bedroom. That's straight up sure. But…is that…?"
She nervously looks to her left. But, all she sees are shadows going into their scrap metal houses and mineral residue from their shoes from a mile away.
Syl slightly chuckles nervously to herself, "I'm getting tired. That's all it is."
She rings the doorbell.
A man with medium brown hair and a blackish brown shirt answers the door: Reeking of sweat and dirt, like he's been out with the trees all day.
The man says, "hello?"
Syl checks, "hey. Are you Mark?"
Mark faintly grins, "yeah. I've been expecting a package." Syl adds, "sure."
She hands him the package while getting out a clipboard with a form with the other hand.
Syl figures, "I just need a signature. And then, you can go get a shower and get a good night's rest." Mark comments, "that bad, huh?"
Syl nervously answers, "sorry. But, yes."
Mark figures, "it's ok. But…I think I'd feel better opening the package first. It's a new camera to replace the old one. And, I wouldn't want to sign without…"
Syl insists, "all right. I get it." Mark faintly grins, "thanks."
She comes in with him.
A small wooden table with a snow globe on it is in a small metal hall: Very dimly lit, with some ultraviolet hints of cleaned up bodily fluids on the floor.
Syl tries to hide it well. But, hints of disgust are on her face.
Mark opens up the box to find a silvery black camera.
He checks it over to see if it's in working order.
Bordering on impatient, Syl asks, "how is the camera?"
Suddenly, Mark changes his tune, "all good…now."
He flashes it off viciously at Syl.
She groans, reactively trying to cover her eyes. But, the glare is already there.
In the dim light, it lasts longer. But, her nictitating membranes are already helping.
The blurred out clipboard falls against the floor with a loud clink.
In the foggy shapes of light she can barely see… She realizes what he's trying for.
He's trying to cop a feel. But, Syl is faster.
She breaks his wrist on reflex: Getting him crying out in pain.
He angrily then tries to beat her into submission with his other arm.
Though, with her genetically lighter bones and more compact muscles… Syl easily turns her side away while decking him down.
As Syl's vision starts to be more precise… The man is coughing violently on his side on the floor: With a very big purplish looking bruise there.
But, as her vision fluctuates as it tries to adjust back to normal… The sight of his body goes from hairier to less hairy and back again.
In one distorted blur… A shot is fired.
In the next… A fading in and out glass window shatters: As Syl jump tumbles out through it.
And, in those seconds…she could hear a loud grinding of teeth and claws.
On the following day, late into the morning…
Yellow police tape is around and in Mark's house.
Mark's body is lying dead in the hall: Shot through the head, with a dried up trail of dark red liquid over the floor and some of the snow globe.
The window down the left is smashed through.
Strangely though… There are barely any signs if any of claw marks.
Some Sector Police and forensics with white lab coats and bulletproof vests are on the scene.
After the riots shortly after the Pulse…bulletproof vests have become common for forensics and medical teams.
Detective Sung is also here.
He briefly bends down with tan gray gloves: Picking up the fallen clipboard.
He tells them, "I'm going back out. See if there are any blood samples in the grass out front."
The forensic guys don't even look. The Sector Police cops just nod or don't care, as they sip their coffee or start heading into the kitchen area to start on their police reports on the job. Kitchen area's already clear though.
Detective Sung holds a dark blue cloth under the clipboard, and then puts it down on the metal kitchen table for forensics to check themselves.
On the way out, he takes off his gloves and puts them back into his overcoat.
He goes out the front door. But, he doesn't check the grass.
He goes straight for his rusty looking gray car.
As soon as he's in his police car, he calls up someone on his cellular phone.
From the other end, in a dark brown long sleeved army jacket… Logan answers, "hey." Detective Sung says, "hey, Logan."
Logan acknowledges, "Matt. So…what have you found?"
Detective Sung recollects, "a broken window. The only resident of the house is dead. Likely to be a gunshot wound. But, no sign of forced entry other than the window. And, that's just a possibility."
Logan figures, "ok. Any possible suspects other than the Homewreckers?"
A little uneasily, Detective Sung questions, "why so specific?"
Partly lying, Logan tells him, "oh. I heard they were beaten up bad, not very far from Jam Pony. Might be looking to settle a score by taking it out on Syl."
Detective Sung figures, "well, I'll look into it. But…it won't be easy."
Logan nervously checks, "why not?"
Detective Sung brings up, "word is getting around that Syl killed someone. Though, with no word on the Homewreckers as of late… It wouldn't be the first time a gang has intimidated people to keep quiet."
Some photos of the Homewreckers are on Logan's main monitor.
There's a guy with a big ball and chain, big muscles, and a black mask on with a orange hard hat over it. To his left is a guy with a jackhammer, spiky orange dyed medium hair, and a black mask. And to his right is a guy with a bulldozer styled metal suit with matching spiky gauntlets, and a yellow mask on with a orange hard hat over it.
In hard realization… Logan heavily sighs, "yeah. Well…dig up what you can. And, if you find her…" Detective Sung mostly assures him, "you'll be the first."
Logan says, "thanks, Matt."
He hangs up.
Max is standing not far off at a wooden Chinese screen: Still in her top from the other night.
Sounding more than a little worried, Max checks, "anything?"
Logan admits uneasily, "afraid not."
Max determinedly figures, "then I'm going."
She's already heading for the door.
Logan turns his chair in her direction to face her: Intensely looking her way.
He points out, "I know you want to find her, Max. But, unless you know something I don't know…it's going to be kind of hard to go when you got no idea of where to look."
Max pauses at the door. She pulls herself back from the doorknob.
Max mutters, "damn."
She turns back to him…looking a little embarrassed.
And, she just slightly laughs, "you know me so well."
With a light look on his face, Logan comments, "you're welcome."
Max solemnly adds, "ok. But, you're calling me if you find anything."
Logan confirms assuringly, "I will."
Max says, "thanks." Logan lightly insists, "no problem."
Max figures, "good. Cause whoever did this is going down: Hard."
She heads over to the couch: Putting her feet up and staring out the window.
Logan just sighs to himself: Not sure what else to do but go back to his computer.
Around this time, at Jam Pony…
Normal is at his metal bars grid framed cubicle.
The bike messengers are coming in and out like they always do.
The only close to real familiar face among them though…is Druid.
He's in a mostly green sweatshirt, and wearing his fisherman like white hat. But, under that hat, he's got a contemptuous nervous look in his eyes.
Normal asks uneasily, "where the fire truck is Syl?"
Druid comments, "how should I know? I'm not her master."
In his red and white painting like sweatshirt… Sketchy tells him, "hey, watch it."
With no hidden contempt at all… Druid figures, "well…if it isn't the biggest instrument of the Most High himself. And… Yeah: Since when does that concern you? Why don't you move on to another sucker girl like you always do?"
Most of the bike messengers are crowding around them.
Sketchy mutters, "I'm going to take that personally if you don't shut up."
Druid faintly sighs, "all right. You got a point."
Half heartedly, Sketchy says, "yeah, thanks."
Druid glares back, "but, why shouldn't we?! Before Herbal found out the truth, we were bros. Now…I can't stand to even look at you. Asshole."
Inches from him… A glaring Sketchy goes, "interesting. I could say the same thing."
By now, Normal has come out from behind his cubicle: Standing between Sketchy and Druid.
Normal calls out, "hey, hey! Break it up! Or, I'm closing today on account of finding replacements for every one of you ungrateful cretins. Now, go. Bip bip bip!"
Druid backs off: In spite of his glaring hatred.
Some of the bike messengers groan in disappointment. Several others glare back at Sketchy as they start on their way back on their bikes with packages.
With some relief, Sketchy adds, "thanks."
Normal insists, "don't mention it."
He's already on his way back to his cubicle.
Sketchy concludes admittedly, "no. Really. I never thought I'd say this. But, a lot of these guys really are bums."
Normal pauses: Turning back to Sketchy.
With a faint smile, Normal says, "you're welcome. Now, let me get back to work."
Sketchy casually realizes, "right. No problem. But, if Syl comes here…?"
Normal figures simply, "I'll let Logan know, and he'll let you know."
Sketchy points out in confirmation, "that's all I came down to ask."
Normal nods, "sure."
With that, Sketchy heads out: Mostly satisfied.
All the while… Behind the concrete archway… Syl has been lying low against it: Breathing hard and sweaty, catching her breath.
Three hours later, in the Eyes Only Rec Room…
Max questions, "where's Sketchy? We were gonna go kick it at a new midway."
She and Original Cindy are sitting in the ring of couches: With Original Cindy's arm sympathetically around her.
She's got her hair kind of bunched up and kind of not with her green hair scrunches, and a very dark blue sleeveless top on.
Original Cindy highlights, "might be a big old top secret science fiction weapon for Eyes Only he has to come in and account for before it explodes. Or, maybe he didn't feel so hot with his girlfriend missing. I'd go with the second though."
With a mixed expression, Max faintly chuckles, "same. Tried reaching him on his computer box. That was a half hour ago."
Original Cindy reflects in the open, "hmm. That ain't like him."
With a hint of worry, Max firmly adds, "yeah. It isn't."
A beep goes off from one of the computers.
Original Cindy says, "hold up. I got to check this." Max concludes, "sure."
Original Cindy pulls away, getting up to check the computer screens.
As she catches which one it's coming from…the fine print plays on the screen.
Kind of shaken, Original Cindy mutters, "damn."
Max turns her way, "what?"
Original Cindy realizes, "I'm on for a mission…watching another agent's back."
Max turns back to face nothing.
She solemnly figures, "blah blah, woof woof. I get it."
Original Cindy confirms nervously, "yeah. You gonna be ok though?"
Max faintly assures, "kind of sure of that. Faint chuckle. All good, all the time."
Original Cindy is on her way onto the blackish metal tiles. But, she pauses.
Original Cindy remarks, "right. Still… Getting there can be a real bitch."
Max mutters, "no kidding."
Original Cindy concludes, "hm hmm. See you later, Boo."
Max concludes, "yeah. See you later."
Original Cindy goes up.
But, she nervously looks back at Max: Hoping it's all going to work out.
Twelve long minutes later…
Max's cellular phone beeps.
Max answers it: Kind of relieved and kind of not for something to come up.
Uncertainly, Max asks, "hello?"
A familiar voice answers, "Max?"
Max goes wide eyed. She asks back, "Syl?"
Syl answers, "yes. And, Sketchy's with me."
Sighing with relief… Max says, "oh, thank god. What…?"
Very nervously, Syl quickly says, "sorry. I have to get off. They're on to me."
Fearing the worst… Max questions, "who is?"
Syl instructs, "Maple Leaf, 15th Avenue. Our lives depend on knowing."
She hangs up before Max can say more.
Max looks teary eyed across the couches as she puts down the cellular phone.
Around this time, down 15th Avenue…
Metal scrap houses of wood like and dark gray, little graffiti, and wire fences go for miles down groves of trees and worn down roads. Even the groves have wire fences.
Some houses are really metal one floor warehouses, because some people didn't want to spend much. Or, some people just liked the idea of a apartment or a government research lab all to themselves.
One of the one room warehouses has recently been condemned because of rats.
Now they're all lying dead: Along with the ghostly pale body of the hazmat suit covered exterminator who was supposed to kill them today, who was shot in the head.
Drips of dried dark red liquid decorate the floor in circles.
And, where some intersect… There's Syl: Hand on rifle, sitting against the wall.
Sketchy is sitting there: Hunched over, beside the doorway.
He brings up nervously, "okay. What is going on?! Because you're really starting to terrify me, and I think I deserve to at least know why."
Teary eyed in her mixed feelings… Syl admits, "last night freaked me out. But…it's not all there is. I've kept wanting to tell you everything. There's so much. But… Faint nervous chuckle. I guess there was never going to be a good time. Huh?"
With a faint smile, Sketchy suggests, "seems as good a time as any from where I am."
Syl solemnly figures, "yeah. Me too. Just…listen. Please."
Sketchy just says, "okay."
With a faint sniffle… Syl goes into her past, "you know the boarding school I've kept talking about? Well…it wasn't a boarding school. It was a hellhole classified under Project Manticore. We came from surrogate mothers: Max, me, and our other brothers and sisters. But, we were turned into genetically enhanced killers. Until the escape, we didn't know what else to be. You can't…imagine."
She sniffles hard…trying to put on a brave face and not succeeding at all.
Flashes of her shakily taking meds, the short time she and Zack and Krit were together in a cabin in Canada before splitting up to try to better protect themselves and their brothers and sisters, the Nomlies kept in cells, humanoid rats, escaping Manticore… They all flood through her.
Under her tears… Syl mumbles, "I'm sorry. I should be stronger than this. I should be better than this!"
But, even as her tears fall more and more… Sketchy says completely honestly, "no. You made terrible mistakes. You all did. But…you're already better than that."
Not even looking up… Syl wipes away some tears.
She admits shakily, "I killed people today, Sketchy. You really think I'm better?"
With a faint smile, Sketchy comments, "I've been friends with Max for a long time. She terrifies me sometimes. But, I still am. So, what does that make me?"
Looking up at him… Syl faintly grins, "maybe that makes us soulmates."
They awkwardly chuckle over that for a minute or so.
A half hour or so later…
Out there, while several people are coming around in their cars… Shots are heard.
Drivers try to swerve down adjacent streets to get out of range…only for flaming gasoline to ignite from their shot open gasoline tanks.
Their cars explode…as they go fly crashing through their front windows.
Some of them are on their sides coughing dark red liquid. Some are out cold.
People are either hurrying to the garden hoses or running like hell.
With mothers and fathers with their garden hoses, the fires are calming down.
A SWAT team is coming in: All in black, and in visible bulletproof vests.
Two officers in the SWAT team are shot through the glass over their helmets.
They both fall down dead.
By walkie-talkie… The team leader reports, "you know that shooter on 15th Avenue? Yeah. We're going to need more men: A lot more!"
Max is coming up in her black catsuit, speeding her motorcycle down the road.
She screeches to a halt before the SWAT team.
Interestingly enough, so do the shots from a certain metal one floor warehouse.
Max fake smiles their way, "now, what the hell are you government idiots thinking? Starting a shootout in the middle of the city?"
The team leader tries to explain, "sorry, ma'am. But, we have our orders…"
Max mutters harshly, "wrong answer."
She speed charges right through them.
One of the SWAT officers is doubled over, coughing violently over himself.
The other three officers barely jump away in time to avoid the same fate. But, they end up sprawled on the ground: Their rifles having fallen out of their hands.
Max continues on for the warehouse.
She angles her front wheel up…launching her motorcycle straight through the big front window.
She spins around to a stop.
But, when she gets off… Max tearfully realizes what she just walked into.
And, all she can think of is, "oh god."
A teary eyed Syl is standing shakily with her rifle out and loaded: With her back to the edge of the broken window she didn't even hear.
Sketchy is standing before her, looking more nervously hopeful than terrified.
But, Syl keeps hearing squeaks of a humanoid rat...getting louder and louder.
As tears threaten to pour out… Syl mumbles chillingly, "if you love me…go. Go: Before the pathogen gets you too!"
Even as she's pointing her rifle at him… Sketchy tries to say, "Syl. I can't just…!"
Trying to remain calm… Krit voices nervously, "Syl…listen to me. There is no Nomlie pathogen. There are no rats."
He's standing in the doorway: Tranquilizer aimed at Syl.
In that moment… Syl can't hold back the tears.
Glancing back at Krit… Syl shakenly insists, "but…I saw them. I know I…!"
Quick to answer… Max kind of lies, "he's telling the truth. Logan checked."
With tranquilizer ready… A teary eyed Krit says, "Syl… Don't make us do this."
Teary eyed… Max reaches out, "just give me the gun, and it'll be ok. Please!"
She reaches her open arm out towards Syl.
After a very long minute… Syl drops the gun into her hand.
Max chucks it away to Krit to pick up.
Krit sighs in much needed relief as he does.
Syl finds herself sitting in the corner of the room: Crying.
Max sits by her, hugging her and trying to in a comforting way.
Sketchy is sitting back against the floor.
He's tearfully mumbling, "I…don't understand."
Ambulances are driving away: Taking several guys to the nearest hospital with sirens blaring.
Max solemnly figures, "I'm not sure I do either. But, whatever happens…I'm going to get her through this whack bitch. I'll let it slide if the heart of darkness is too much for you to take, Sketchy. But, I have to stay."
With a faint smile… Sketchy says assuringly, "thanks Max. But…I'm not going. Syl needs me. She needs both of us." Max faintly smiles back, "I feel you."
Max lightly remarks, "if I start thinking you're just a guy… Remind me not to."
Sketchy bittersweetly adds, "sure."
Syl silently but faintly smiles, under her faced down head and her drying tears.
The next day…
Max is in her apartment, sitting in one of the chairs with a white top over her jet black jacket.
Past the window, the sun is just coming out.
In the dim light… Max sadly says, "Syl is my sister. But, Logan is my messiah. How do I choose who walks and who doesn't?"
In the chair across from her… In her light red woven dress… Anin reflects, "I've walked out on my family. But…that was when they were no longer family. Even then…it is not easy to let go. Sniffle. Believe me. I tried. If anything is going to challenge your love for that man…it's this. But, I hope he's feeling the same way: Because that means there's still hope for him. And, if there is a chance he will listen…you shouldn't run with Syl. You should face it, and you should face him."
Max gets up from the chair.
Max solemnly realizes, "you're right. I should. But…what if I have to run?"
Teary eyed, Anin faintly smiles, "then I'll miss you. But, I'll understand why."
Max and Anin hug each other tight.
Max faintly smiles back, "thanks." Anin adds, "you're welcome."
Into the early morning, in the Eyes Only Rec room…
Max and Logan are sitting opposite each other, in the ring of couches.
It's only been a day gone by. Yet, they can barely look at each other.
After some awkward minutes… Max speaks up.
With a vicious glare… She pinpoints, "you called in the SWAT team. Didn't you?"
In memory flashes, from yesterday in the late morning…
Logan was standing in a mostly light green office, with wooden doors, tall windows, and some open files on some recent murders with shots to the head.
He wasn't alone either. Krit was standing there too, and he wasn't happy.
Logan asked, "can you give us a few minutes?"
Detective Sung firmly said, "sure. I'll be right outside."
He closed the office door behind him.
Turning to Krit… Logan put to question, "all right. What is it?"
With hints of unease… Krit implied, "it's about Syl." Logan said, "okay."
Krit explained, "a Nomlie would tear right through that guy. He wasn't. Aside from the ZFA…that's the only thing that would scare her enough to run. If she wasn't… She'd withdraw back to someone close to her, and we wouldn't be trying to find her."
Logan was already not liking where this is going.
He inquired, "you think she got spooked?"
A solemn Krit was breaking it down for him, "it's worse: She's been set off."
Logan asked, "what do you mean?"
Krit admits, "I don't want to think on it either. But… Look."
He slightly flipped through the case files. But, he acted like he was there for hours.
Krit revealed uncomfortably, "three murders from 0430 to 0700. The murder from 2120. All of the ballistics match…from her gun."
Logan went wide eyed, "oh, god." Krit muttered, "yeah."
Logan just had to ask, "and how do you know this?"
Krit told him, "on the night of the escape, Zack faked his death. He ran to Canada when he could. That's how he found me and Syl. Moderate sigh. We spent a few days to rest up, compare notes, and figure out our next move. We talked about our strengths and weaknesses…in case Lydecker or someone else tried to exploit our weaknesses."
He explained further, "Syl's weakness…is also her strength. She was always good at pushing back fears and cheering herself and others up: Even if only a little. But, she feared Nomlies more than anything. She tried to imagine them as rats to lessen her fear of them. But, since then…she's been having nightmares with humanoid rats. And, if someone tried to violate her or mutilate her…"
Logan gravely realized, "she might start seeing more rats." Krit added, "exactly."
Facing the window with his arms crossed… Logan figured determinedly, "we got to find her and stop her: Before it gets worse. But, we can't tell Max. Not yet."
Krit questioned uneasily, "why not? If anyone else should know now, it's her."
Logan turned back to him.
With a cold fierce look in his eyes… He argued, "maybe you know Syl. But, I know Max. She hates mental hospitals almost as much as being locked in a cage. And, if she found out before things calm down…she would fight us on this."
Krit concluded, "ok. You don't have to convince me." Logan said, "good."
Krit asked, "so what's the plan?"
Logan mostly assured him, "just give me a minute. I'll think of something."
Presently…
Still in his jacket… Logan nervously gulps.
In a low tone… He comes clean, "I didn't want her to be shot! Nervous sigh. I just wanted to give her targets that would hopefully not die while innocent people were scared out there. Unfortunately…that didn't exactly go as well as I thought."
Hurt sounding… Max adds, "no. It's not just that. You didn't tell me about Syl or them. Why?!"
Logan points out uncomfortably, "I was going to tell you. But, if I told you then…would you fight me on it?"
Max mutters back, "what the hell kind of question is that?"
Logan reasons, "no. I think I know you better than that. The fact is that if you were to fight me on this while Syl had the gun…more innocent people would have died. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. But, I couldn't risk that."
With mixed feelings, Max admits, "faint sigh. Yeah. I understand that much."
Logan adds, "you're welcome."
Max goes on, "what I still don't understand is why you're going to lock her up in a cage. I don't care what you're calling a mental hospital. It's still a cage!"
Some tears fall from her face. But, right now, she doesn't seem to care.
Logan deeply sighs into his hands.
Teary eyed… He looks up at her.
He somberly says, "I don't know what else to do, Max. If you know of a way that doesn't mean running from reality…then tell me. Please."
Max is silent in saddened shock: Not sure whether to just deck him or believe him.
Then… Logan's cellular phone rings.
Logan picks up, "yeah? Could you call me back? I'm kind of in the middle of…"
On the other end, in her army blue jacket over dark green… Sydney fervently says, "no. Not if it means letting you and Max make the worst mistake of your lives."
Uncertainly, Logan figures, "okay."
Sydney tells him, "and put me on speaker. You both got to hear what I have to say."
Logan just says, "okay."
He then puts down the cellular phone on a center wooden table, facing up.
Max looks a little confused. But, she doesn't question it.
As delicately as she knows how, Sydney supposes, "hello, Max…Logan. I know you may not be in the mood to talk much. But…listen. I know you well enough to know what you're fighting about. But, I have a solution: One that everyone can be ok with."
Max and Logan faintly chuckle in very awkward relief.
A little better sounding… Max says, "all right. We're listening."
Over the course of the next several days…
Flashes of a mostly wooden classroom styled room go by, with counselors in mostly black and brown jackets going in and out with recovering drug abusers.
Among the help seekers though…is Syl in her army blue jacket.
Under the guise of seeing her as a drug abuse counselor, a counselor with close ties to Sydney's and Samantha's government administration is starting to meet with her.
After ninety days or so with him…she's expected to get a hold on the real. No more nightmare fueled dementia.
She even gets to go back home between sessions: So long as she takes the antipsychotic medication she needs, and goes through therapeutic techniques before and after work.
Syl and Sketchy are more than just good with that though.
Meanwhile, the Homewreckers are being charged for the murders: Thanks to Logan purchasing a exact match for Syl's gun and planting it in a package to them, as if they paid a guy to hand it off to them after the hits to discreetly dispose of the evidence.
Over it all… The scene lightly cuts to Max up on the Space Needle: Looking out towards the streets on a calm slightly chilly night.
She's left thinking to herself:
What a joke my life can get sometimes.
We were about ready to fight over Syl's life and future.
Then Sydney calls in and makes it all right, like we're just kids fighting over the last stick of bubblegum and she's telling us sharing is caring and enough is enough.
Faint amused chuckle. Can't really say I blame her though.
We're getting off each other's backs for a while: Me and Logan.
But, in the end…I think we're gonna be ok. I know we're stronger than that.
Thanks, Sydney. I owe you: Large.
Syl, Sketchy, Logan, Anin, and everyone else that's been there for me through good, bad, and the in between blur… Here's to a rocking and a rolling good future.
Not long after that night…
In a dark room in a undisclosed place…there's a jet black TV set against the wall.
With French, Scottish, and Irish subtitles… A video bulletin comes up onscreen.
Eyes Only announces, "do not attempt to adjust your set. This is a Streaming Freedom Video Bulletin. This cable hack cannot be traced, it cannot be stopped, and it is the only free voice left that knows who the ZFA really are. What I'm about to tell you is difficult to believe. Maybe even unthinkable. But when you do…you will not let the ZFA walk away from the political swings. They must be stopped…or we might as well go back to hitting each other with stones and sticks in a postmodern stone age."
It continues on, "yes. The ZFA are responsible for the Pulse. They hit Europe. They hit Australia. They hit the United States. And, it might not stop there. But, behind me are countries that are not afraid to act. This crime machine of cyborgs and mob bosses must be hunted down at all costs: For our future, and our children's future. They are guilty of millions of crimes. And, they will pay for them. Either we survive in this world, or they do."
The TV set is hypersonic blasted to smithereens.
And, in the shadows of the room… Cai utters angrily, "Logan Cale!"