A/N: It has been so long since I've updated/worked on this story, I'm not sure if anyone can remember what it was about. Heck, I don't know if I can remember what it's about. This chapter has been waiting for upload for a long time now, but here it is at last.
On another note (and my main reason for finally posting this chapter); Voting has begun for Round Three of The Broken World Awards, so if you'd like to vote for the Dark Angel fan fiction, fan sites and fan art which have been nominated, please check out the link in my profile. :)
Locura - Chapter 3
By Sorrow
2 January, 2022
Alec stood over the man who lay unconscious upon the stretcher and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes for a moment as he contemplated what options lay ahead - for everyone within Terminal City. A sound startled him out of his thoughts and he looked up, straight into the eyes of Max who stood in the doorway. Stifling the guilt that flashed through his mind, he forced a smile.
"Hey Max."
"Hey yourself." She crossed the room to stand on the other side of the man, her eyes flickered to his chest until she noted that it continued to rise and fall, before she looked to Alec again. "I catch you off guard there Alec? Somethin' up?"
Swallowing back the stone that had somehow lodged itself in his throat, Alec convinced his shoulders to shrug carelessly. A movement that seemed to trigger an automated nonchalant grin. Even on autopilot it seemed his body maintained 'the attitude'.
"Yeah I'm fine Max. Just a bit drained by everything, ya know? Seems the residents of TC are tryin' a little too hard to model themselves on yours truly with the loco behaviour."
'Well, what can I say? You're a trend-setter Alec." Max smiled, falling for the ruse hook - line - and sinker. Or maybe it wasn't so much that she fell for Alec's facade, but that she simply preferred to pretend for herself that everything was okay.
"So how is he?"
Alec stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged once more. "Oh you know... he's still breathing."
"You say that like you're disappointed Alec." Max eyed him speculatively, taking in his haggard appearance and eyes shadowed by guilt.
"Max..." Alec paused, unsure whether to confide his doubts about the ordinary. "You know he's gonna bring a world of hurt on us once he gets back out there right? I mean, our kind tried to butcher him. If that won't step up their hatred against us, nothing will."
"What do you suggest we do Alec?" Max's tone grew cold. "Finish him off? Prove ourselves to be the animals they think we are?"
Willing himself to hold his tongue, Alec swallowed awkwardly. He'd anticipated this response, but still he'd hoped that by confiding in Max the fears many others held regarding this man, she would somehow understand. Unfortunately she was too damn human after all.
"You're right. I know." His throat felt suddenly dry, the weight of the lies he knew would follow in the days to come pressed into his chest as a painful barb. One which could never be dug out. "So he stays here 'til he's well enough to be taken outside the gates. But we have to do something about the transgenics responsible Max. We have to stop this from happening again."
"Ammo has them taken care of." Max's eyes held their own secrets at that moment. Ammo was an X4 who had appointed himself as some kind of authority in law enforcement within their community. And his methods were on par with the handlers at Manticore.
A tone of suspicion crept into Alec's voice now. "What are you talking about Max? I mean, specifically."
"They're gonna be dealt with Alec. What they did was... they weren't transgenics they were animals! And they murdered an innocent person!"
"Innocent Max? Are ya shittin' me?" Alec held out his arms in a gesture of frustration before pacing to the foot of the stretcher and back. "Max these men came here to cause trouble. You can bet they were hoping to go home with a horror story about us! They weren't innocent!"
Max stared sullenly down at the man who lay unconscious upon the stretcher. His injuries had been treated, but even if he did survive, his body would be forever scarred. And who knew what damage the attack would have upon his mental state.
"Maybe no one will believe him." Her words were a whisper, uttered without hope.
"Yeah. Maybe."
Resigned to the knowledge that Logan's influence would always have Max doing what she felt to be the 'right' thing, Alec found it easier to simply agree. He wondered if she'd ever realise that transgenic rules and human rules wouldn't always run along the same vein. Often what was 'justice' for a human, was nothing more than a death sentence to their own kind. The death of Biggs was a prime example. A lesson it seemed Max would prefer to forget.
What he could understand least of all, was why Max was so comfortable with laying the blame and punishment entirely on the rogue transgenics. Would it make her conscience rest easier for the human's sake? Maybe. But it just didn't seem like Max's way. Not at all.
An uneasy silence basked the room until finally Max asked in a voice that wavered with uncertainty, "everything will be fine, right?"
Alec hesitated for only a moment. "'Course it will Maxie."
Inside, he cringed at yet another lie, and wondered if a day would ever come when he'd be able to tell Max something that wasn't a fabrication.
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Mole stood outside the room that held the four transgenics responsible for the death of the human intruder and near-death of his companion. Every now and then he would pace before the doorway, twirling his shotgun as if it were a baton, boredom causing him to almost count the spots of mildew on the walls. He was a doer. Not a stand around and do nothinger. And the fact that a no brain thug like Ammo was giving him orders... it was about enough to make the reptilian's cold blood boil.
Why couldn't Max see that imprisoning these transgenics as if they were criminals was plain and simply wrong? These men had suffered similar symptoms to Alec's own - except of course, Alec never tried to tear anyone apart limb by limb. Strangling Max was... well that didn't count. There were plenty of sane transgenics who'd considered doing that one to her themselves.
These men had regressed - not simply to the mindset of a Manticore soldier, but beyond that - to the primal animal that lived within them. And they were no more responsible for their actions than Alec was for his own a few days earlier.
If anyone should be held accountable, the blame could rest on Max.
For how long had these symptoms been going on? The fights that would break out between men near-stupefied by boredom. The squabbles over territory as restless soldiers tried to find something to keep their mind occupied on anything other than despair. Too long. And she'd chosen to ignore the warnings.
Sure, there was work to be done within Terminal City. Buildings to be cleaned out for habitation; supplies to be gathered on covert escapades beyond the questionable safety of the perimeter fence; a contingency plan to be organised should their small city be attacked... there was a lot to do. But an underlying restlessness continued to agitate the transgenics. Beneath the planning and god damn cleaning, the freak nation floundered.
They had never asked for independence and truth be told, many of them would return to Manticore in an instant if the chance were offered. The place had been cruel to soldiers who failed in any way to meet expectations. But to the rest - to those who had lived by the rules, Manticore had given them a sense of security and order that Terminal City would never offer them. Not unless humanity did an about-face and decided to accept them. As if that would happen.
Sure, Max's pretty little speech inspired them all after the cops had chased her right into their domain. Great words. Great big empty words. The fact of the matter was that they were sitting ducks. And although no one would say it out loud, they all felt that their attempts to strategise were hopeless. One well placed bomb and they'd all be dead anyhow. And it was just a matter of time before that bomb fell...
"Time's up Mole."
The lizard man spun to face the voice, surprised that he had been so deep in thought to be caught off guard. Leaning casually against the wall a few feet away stood the red-haired gal pal of Alec's, wearing an irritatingly sunny grin.
"Uh." Mole grunted, eyeing her warily. "No it's not. I've still got another hour in this god-forsaken hole."
Raising a speculative eyebrow, Match's grin widened. "Oh. Okay then. We'll if you'd rather stay here than do whatever it is that you usually do 'round meal time, I'll just come back after someone's eaten your rations."
Match turned and began to stroll back down the corridor, whistling a carefree tune beneath her breath.
"Hold on just one minute!" A hand grabbed the X5's shoulder and Match found herself being spun around to encounter the red rimmed, alien-like eyes of the transhuman. "Why the hell are ya so eager to take over my shift huh?"
An innocent expression slid over Match's face like a well fitting mask. "Me? Oh, I'm not eager. See - this is me walking away." Stepping back, Match pulled away from Mole's grasp and turned towards the direction she had appeared from once again.
"Just damn well hang on a minute!"
Sighing with mock exasperation, Match turned to Mole once more and waited silently for him to speak.
"You're as god-damned sneaky as your friend Alec!" Mole jabbed a finger at Match's face and she smirked back at him as he continued to rant. "Don't think you can leave me out of the loop! I don't like being told what to do by that idiot Max, and I won't put up with bein' given the run around by the likes of you - now spit it out!"
Tilting her head to one side playfully as she considered his words, Match finally let the metaphorical cat out of the bag. "Okay fine. But I need your help."
"Ah for the love of shit!" Mole's eyes glittered angrily, realising she'd set him up right from the word go. He rolled his eyes and waved his hand impatiently. "Carry on."
"You know as well as I do that what happened to those transgenics in there is not a once off. And you know that Ammo plans to punish them harsher than any Drill Sergent at Manticore because of it."
"Hmmph. If he had the brains and the technology, he'd have them dissected first - just to see what made 'em tick over. He thinks he's one of them. You know if I was gonna be suffering delusions of grandeur, I'd be fancying myself as the god-damned President - not some whacked up Manticore director."
For a moment Match smiled at the mental image of Mole; President of the United States. "Yeah well, we know better right? What happened to them is the same as what happened to Alec. They regressed. Only worse this time. And if we don't help them, Max isn't going to see the light 'til it's way too late."
Mole nodded, wondering if he was about to make a deal with the devil. "So what's our plan?"
Match gave a short sharp whistle and Mole looked beyond her to the transgenic who appeared from around the corner. As she approached he recognised her from the previous day. She'd jumped in to help fight off the regressors. A loner it seemed.
The woman with the short blonde hair stalked slowly forward and Mole got the fleeting impression of a Siberian tiger hunting its prey. The image caused his reptilian skin to crawl but the moment passed as she smiled lightly at him, grey eyes losing their glacial appearance. Coughing slightly, Mole stepped back, shrugging away the uneasy feeling to the back of his mind, to pick over it later.
"Mole, you've met Void - briefly. She gonna help us with these guys." Match stepped past the transhuman and towards the room which held the regressors. Glancing up at him, she noted his sceptical expression. "She can help - she was psy-ops."
"Ah." Mole nodded, understanding now why she had made him so uneasy. It was in the eyes that looked too far into him, making him feel as if his very mind was being assaulted against his will. Face it. Those from psy-ops were freaks even by transgenic standards. Many Manticorians had not-too-fond memories of the ways in which they would prod and poke the mind, searching for signs of failure and deceit on behalf of the handlers. No wonder this one kept to herself. He would too if he walked in her shoes.
"So you're gonna get inside their heads and find out what's goin' on huh?" Mole tried not to shudder at the thought. He had never experienced such things, but he'd heard stories from those who had been through psychiatric observation, and the tales weren't nothin' he'd read to children.
Void glanced at him, a knowing smile hovering on her lips. "Why? Does the thought scare you?"
Mole snorted and stepped aside to unlock to door he'd been closely guarding a few minutes earlier. "Hardly."
Flashing him a withering smile that indicated she knew better, Void stepped inside the room and pulled the door shut behind her. With Mole and Match on the other side, she now reached into the pockets of her cargo pants and withdrew a small vial from one, and a handful of wrapped hypodermic needles from the other. The transgenics sitting on the opposite bench were listless now, but soon that would change.
As she approached, one looked up at her, a dazed expression on his face. Smiling as his confused gaze turned to recognition, Void stepped towards him and wordlessly began to unwrap a needle.
TBC…