They were running through Hell.
Fire leapt up and licked at their ankles, and snarling demons were chasing them in burning chariots. Darkness pressed in from in front, and chaos followed close behind. All Sasha could feel was the constant up and down of their advance, the drops in her stomach as they fell and rose. She wasn't even aware that she was still clinging for dear life; this was a dream, or they had truly died.
BLAM!
The whole world to their right erupted in a ball of fire, deafening her. Leroy's pace didn't falter. It seemed like hours before the pursuit slackened off, hours and hours of endless panic and desperate scrabbling to hold onto the edges of reality. The furor went on only in the back of Sasha's mind.
A crash. Flashlight beams sliced through the night sky, followed by angry shouting. The fires of Hell had died away, and now they were back in reality. Two jeeps were quickly disappearing into the distance, one split almost to its cab by a tree. Pillboxes were running around, watching them flee, cursing and fumbling for more flares.
Suddenly, silence.
In a moment, all was quiet in her world. Beautiful, blissful peace made her want to pass out right then, but the continuing movement kept her barely awake. Up, down. Leroy's shoulders shifted like the swells of water. She didn't know how she managed to hold on for so long.
Eventually the pace slackened, and there was a shock as they hit the solid ground. Leroy ran at a trot on all fours for another few minutes, still not saying anything, still not explaining what was happening. The only thing Sasha could do for many minutes was cling and breathe. Eventually, though, the world began to make sense again, and the sounds and sights of a real morning forest began to filter through.
Barely conscious, Sasha asked Leroy a question.
"Where are we going?"
At first, Leroy didn't answer. His breath was fast and heavy, and he was probably exhausted from the chase-not that Sasha could really remember the chase at all. They kept on moving for another ten minutes before he spoke.
"Back to Mama Tenenbaum's house. She told me to come get you after Brother Lester went crazy."
Another long silence. Sasha had her eyes open now, and saw that the sun was beginning to come up. Orange tinged the black winter sky, but it seemed to make the air even colder. Sasha realized then just how cold it was, especially with her just in a nightgown and without shoes; shivering, she pressed her eyes shut again, as if that would keep her warm.
Eventually, she fell asleep again, tired and unable to process what had just happened. Things used to be simple, she thought. It was as if there was a black mark on her now, attracting all sorts of strangeness and misfortune. Why couldn't she just have a day to only worry about things real people worry about? How long had it been since she had thought about taxes, or gas prices, or grocery shopping?
Not since Sydney died, at least.
Though she faded in and out of wakedness, Sasha gauged that they went on for another hour or so before reaching their goal. Leroy's trembling limbs brought them to a stop, and Sasha was afraid her rescuer was going to collapse and die right there. Poor Leroy. Already she had a fondness for him, even though she didn't fully understand how he existed, and beside the fact that he was shockingly hideous. Part of her still wasn't even sure if all of this was real. The cold that bit at her was real, the shots that had been fired at them had been real, and she certainly felt real enough.
"Pretty lady... are you alright?"
Leroy's voice broke into her thoughts. Now she realized that he had taken her off his shoulders and propped her up against a tree. Blood rushed to her head, making it ache. She opened her eyes, and saw him sitting in front of her, his head cocked to one side, a crooked smile on his ugly face.
"I'm... I'm fine," she said, her voice rough and dry like her aching throat. "Are you okay, Leroy?"
He stretched his long legs, and bent his spine backward like a dog, cracking joints audibly. Rolling onto his back, he extended his lanky arms while his feet hung in the air. "I think so," he said. "As good as I'll ever be."
Her savior was a Splicer. A huge, muscular, adult male Spider Splicer, with sharp fangs and curving, eagle like claws, was sitting only a foot from her, smiling like a fool and wanting to be her friend. An inky black, horribly long tongue that was forked at the end lolled out of his mouth while he panted like a puppy dog.
In Rapture, Spiders were the most feared creatures of all, even more than the towering Brute or the lumbering metal Daddy. Their stealth, grace and sheer ferocity made them infamous, though few people had even seen them up close and lived. During the wars, Ryan, Fontaine, and Lamb all engineered Spiders, from both willing volunteers and people just lifted off the street. Sometimes young men would be kidnapped by men claiming to be police, (or even the real police) and the next time their families saw them, they'd be crawling around on all fours through the gutter, feasting on corpses with a pack of other Spiders, snarling when approached.
Sasha was afraid of Spiders. At night during her time in the city, she had heard the sound of the creatures scrambling around in vents above her head. When she had gone to the grocery, she had seen Spiders lounging around in the rafters, grooming each other in animalistic rituals and whetting their sharp teeth on human bones. She had even seen one with a baby clinging to its chest, its own. The demonic child had lanky limbs and huge eyes.
"What are we waiting for?" She asked. Now that she was fully awake, Sasha found that she was very, very afraid.
"Mama Tenenbaum's sending Brother Jack in a truck to get us. Then, we go back to our house, and we can play games, and eat snacks, and be friends, right?" He said. He was nearly jumping up and down with excitement, that manic smile growing on his face. Leroy honestly only wanted her as a playmate.
"Sure."
Time passed, and Sasha did her best to hide her fear. Leroy went on and on about how happy he was to have a new friend, how they were going to play with his other friends, whoever they were, and how lovely he thought her hair was.
"You have pretty hair, too," she said, trying to appease him.
Blushing, Leroy put a hand in his scruffy black mop. It was long and greasy, with bald patches here and there. Bile rose in her throat when she saw black specks jumping away as he ran his hand over his head.
"Mama Tenenbaum says I'm her favorite," he giggled.
What a thing. Tenenbaum had a whole collection of Splicers now.
There was a commotion somewhere up ahead of them, and headlights broke through the dark of the early morning. Through the trees, they saw a black pickup truck pulling around on a dirt road. The ancient thing ground to a slow stop, rattling hoarsely as it shut down; air hissed out of the engine like it was dying. With a loud complaint, the driver's side door opened, and out stepped a man Sasha thought she'd never see again.
He was older now, but there was no denying it was him. Harsh, cruel black eyes darted back and forth in sunken sockets, a shaven head, large, veined hands with those crude tattoos, and a darkness surrounding him like an aura of possession. Jack was the killer, the monster that swept through Rapture like a plague and cut down their brothers and sisters effortlessly and without remorse.
Snorting, Jack blew a cloud of cigarette smoke out of his crooked mouth. He dropped the hand-rolled tobacco onto the ground and stamped it out with his huge boot, making sparks fly into the damp undergrowth. Those cold onyx eyes swept over the brush, and Sasha felt almost a physical blow when they settled on her.
"Brother Jack!" Leroy called out. He scrambled up and dashed over to Jack, stumbling and catching himself with his long arms. Circling him, Leroy looked up at him like a loyal dog, making the strange chirping, chattering noises that Spiders make. To Sasha's surprise, Jack smiled. Kneeling, he gave Leroy a pat on his flea-bitten head and scratched behind his ear, as if he really was just an overgrown, hideous puppy dog.
"Are you Jack?" Sasha asked. There was an edge in her voice.
Standing, the huge fellow did nothing but nod. The smile on Leroy's face vanished when he saw how tensely the two were staring at each other.
"Brother Jack can't talk," he said, "but he's really nice. You don't need to be scared."
Anger bit the back of Sasha's throat. Did she have a choice whether or not she went with this cold-blooded killer and his Spider friend? They've kidnapped her, dragged her out into the woods and made her into a fugitive from the law, all in Tenenbaum's name, for whatever reason. Sasha had hoped she had seen the last of the doctor and her experiments; sure, she was grateful for what Tenenbaum had done, taking her out of Rapture and offering her "cure" for ADAM sickness, but now she wanted all of Rapture's strangeness out of her life.
She didn't have a choice. There was no way she could hike any distance on her crippled leg, and she would freeze to death before the pillboxes found her. Right now, this was the only option where death wasn't a one-hundred percent chance.
With surprising gentleness, Jack helped her into the back seat of the truck, carefully holding her hand, which was tiny in his huge mitt. A little smile was on his ugly face, and some of Sasha's fear went away; there was such love and caring in his features, it defied how grim he looked from afar. Sasha didn't let her guard down. This man was a monster, more so than any person she had ever had to be in contact with.
Leroy jumped up into the seat from the other side, settling into the space next to her and curling into a ball. His oversize clothes bunched up around him, making him look small; how harmless he looked with his large claws tucked in under him and his black, decayed lips sheathing his giant fangs.
"Brother Jack's a very good driver," he noted cheerfully. "He's smart. I wish I could drive a car."
"That's nice," Sasha said quietly. "I can't drive a car, either."
Mute Jack stayed stoic as he climbed into the driver's seat. The old truck rumbled to life, and they started down the road.
So much to happen, even before breakfast.
###
In the city, snow was falling. Small, delicate flakes fluttered down, dusting the sidewalks and gathering on the hoods of parked cars. Gray slush choked the streets like blood clots, slowing traffic and being splattered by tires onto the unfortunates walking to work.
The city was bunkering down for a long, long winter, full of days like this. In a poor neighborhood on the edge of town, people were hammering boards over windows and dragging in firewood from the corner warehouses, preparing their homes for a looming snowstorm coming in from the Gulf. All day, the sky was dark and ominous.
Through the streets of New York, a black pickup drove slowly, a square-faced young man in the driver's seat. His eyes were baleful and wary, his body tense, keeping a vigil for police officers. Maybe he was just being paranoid. There was no way the law knew to look for his truck, or for him, and no one could see his passenger in the back seat. Still, an ounce of prevention: Jack was mute, but he wasn't stupid. Fontaine had seen to that, and programmed him to have the mind of a criminal.
Needing a distraction, Jack played with the radio until it settled on the news. Coverage of the Winter Olympics was steady and exciting, with the UK playing the Soviets in ice hockey. The fast-talking commentator paused from the game for a moment, his breath suddenly slow and nervous-with a quiet "oh," he said that another six people had been cut down by the "High Plains Werewolf Killer." Jack shut off the radio then.
Finally, they slid into an alleyway barely big enough for the truck, and pulled into a disused garage. With a clank, the beaten truck came to a halt, and steam rose from the hood; groaning, Jack realized that this would be the last time the truck would start.
Note to self: Spring for something better than the $200 truck.
Laughing that deranged laugh, Leroy bounded out of the cab and turned feverent circles in place. Still, he didn't straighten or stand upright.
Sasha noticed this for the first time. Leroy's hands were very rough and calloused, and stained brown from dried blood, likely from the pine branches and jagged rocks of the forest. He used his hands to walk all the time, like an animal. The poor thing. The poor, poor thing. Seeing him wince in pain, fresh wounds opening back up in his blistered, paw-pad like palms, was heartbreaking for her.
She was lucky. When she looked at Leroy, she realized how incredibly fortunate she was that Tenenbaum was able to fix her back into something resembling a human being. Her new friend didn't have the luxury of a human appearance, for whatever reason, and was sentenced to life down on the ground, under everyone's feet. How on Earth did he stay so happy?
Jack helped her out of the truck, while Leroy sat expectantly at the garage door, his foot beating on the concrete. Sighing, Jack pulled up the door and held it for his charges.
"We can't be seen," said Leroy.
The huge man followed them out into the alley, keeping watch while Leroy led Sasha to a woodworm eaten door that was soaked by the humidity. Stumbling, Sasha tried her best not to hold up the group; maybe she was just trying to observe the silent, stoic golem leading them around. A cresent-shaped scar tore across his windpipe, still white and puffy, even though it had to be years old. In Rapture, that scar meant a man sentenced to a fate worse than death: someone about to be converted into a Big Daddy. How had that happened?
Inside the building, it was barely warmer than the outside. Rotten yellow wallpaper peeled and curled, filthy carpet squished under their feet, and buzzing green light bulbs cast strange shadows on the stained ceiling.
"We're here! We're home!" Leroy cheered, scrambling around their legs. "Mama Tenenbaum, we're back!"
Jack rolled his eyes, and unlocked one of the decrepit doors. Leroy dashed in, calling out for Tenenbaum, and crashed into someone standing near the doorway.
This young woman wasn't Tenenbaum. She was half the doctor's age, at about thirty, with ashy skin and short air. Her pretty features were horribly marred by splicing, from her bulging, filmed eyes, to her Glasgow grin, to the thick surgical cord running under the skin of her neck. A quaking hand went down to pet Leroy's flea-infested head, while the other was raised, wiggling its fingers.
"Hi," she squeaked.
Jack grunted a greeting, clapping a strong hand on her small shoulder. He gestured to Sasha, who was still milling in the hallway, nervous.
"Hi there, Sasha," the Splicer girl said. "Mama Tenenbaum's been waiting a long time to see you again."
Swallowing, Sasha stepped into the room and shook the girl's hand. She blushed, obviously not used to contact. Another poor, sad creature broken and torn apart by Rapture.
She led them into the apartment, which was very clean and pleasant compared to the rest of the building. Bookshelves, bleach white tile, fluffy chairs-comfortable things that looked like home. After only a few minutes, Leroy had leapt up onto a sofa and was asleep. Sasha only wanted to do the same.
"Mama Tenenbaum?" The girl called. There was a commotion behind a door coming off the living room, and a deep voice spat something that Sasha didn't understand. There was the sound of a drawer being slammed and something heavy falling to the floor, and the door opened.
Tenenbaum was a fierce-looking woman. Her cruel, pointed features and strong, severe jaw made her out to be worse than every teacher or cold mentor you ever had in your youth. She was a dragon of a woman, with a sharp tongue and little tolerance for nonsense. Even though Sasha had only known her for a short time, she had left an impression.
"Sasha," she said, her voice temperate and unreadable. "I see that our friend had brought you to us safely."
"What is this about, doctor?" Sasha asked, treading carefully.
There was a flash of something unfamiliar in Tenenbaum's blue eyes. Regret? Fear? It set Sasha on edge.
"It does not matter now," Tenenbaum said. "You are here and you are safe."
"You've kidnapped me, made me a fugitive, and you expect me to just settle into your little family?"
Tenenbaum sighed deeply, putting a hand over her eyes. Sasha was infuriated that she was such a burden to the woman, even though she was the one who brought her here. Why didn't she expect questions?
"You know about Brother Lester?" The Splicer girl asked Sasha. She nodded, remembering the headline on the newspapers.
The girl tried to say more, but Tenenbaum gave her a sharp look. Shrinking away, the girl was silenced.
"We will not trouble Sister Sasha with these things," the doctor snarled. "Until I have decided what we will do, we will not speak of it."
Indignant, Sasha stepped up to Tenenbaum and looked her straight in the eye. "I have a right to know! You people are insane! Why did you bring me here?"
Without flinching, Tenenbaum took the verbal abuse. That look of quiet disapproval didn't leave her cool face, as if she were being defied by an unruly child. Condescending and unsympathetic, the doctor had not changed a bit.
"It is because the project has failed," she said simply. "I have decided that the Splicers we have rescued are not adapting to surface life."
She explained that, even though Sasha's rehabilitation was a success, there were others that were not so fortunate. Some had died on the operating table at Doctor Porter's lab, others had simply not taken to the serum and remained disfigured, but not insane-like Leroy.
"Leroy was showing great promise. He recovered his speech, and was standing upright. But, it did not last. We were considering releasing him when he began to... regress," said Tenenbaum. Her eyes were beginning to redden. "Now he is nothing but an animal again."
"So you're keeping him as a pet?" Sasha asked, narrowing her eyes. Tenenbaum looked ashamed.
"Leroy cannot survive alone," she said quietly. "His mind is small, and his body is strong. There is nothing else he can do in this world beside remain here with us."
The Splicer girl chimed in. "Brother Leroy and Brother Jack are our protectors."
"Gloria," Tenenbaum said. "Do not interrupt."
A hurt look crossed little Gloria's face. "But you want to send them away, Mama Tenenbaum! Just because Brother Lester was bad, you want to send our family away to the bad place!"
There was silence. Sasha, Tenenbaum, Gloria and Jack all stared at each other, some shocked, some grim, some angry. Jack put his arm around Gloria, but she shrugged him off. Furious, the young woman stormed out of the room and slammed a door behind her. Sasha heard high, tiny sobs.
"What do you mean?" She asked quietly, turned away from the others. When there was no reply, she knew exactly what it meant: one of the psychopaths Tenenbaum had so valiantly ripped from Rapture had turned bad again, and now all of them were going to pay for it with their lives.
All of them were going back where they came from-and forgotten. Swept under the rug like so much household dust. Somehow, Tenenbaum had gotten them out of Rapture, and now she planned to take them back.
"You can't do this." Sasha barked, stepping up to Tenenbaum. Jack stood between them, a horrible, inhuman growl rumbling in his throat, making Sasha jump back in immediate, primal fear. Why Tenenbaum kept that beast around was totally beyond her; no amount of sweet smiles could ever change her memory of that growl.
"Until we can recapture Lester and study him, I fear it is our only option... unless you wish to return to the institution, and face the charges of your escape," Tenenbaum said gravely. "At any moment, you could turn on all of us, and so could Gloria, and even Leroy-but we knew he was a great risk, so we took precautions."
"Then take precautions!" Sasha snapped. "Look in my brains, flip some switches, give me some more of your magic cure! There's no way you're sending an old woman back to that place!"
"Does it look like my family can afford anything else?" Tenenbaum said, furrowing her dark brows. "Curing Splicers and paying for their rehabilitation has ruined us. Gloria and Leroy are the last ones we can support, and if they cannot be released, I fear we may starve on the street. We have three choices: institution, Rapture, or a bullet in the brain."
"Then let's catch him. If one of us has gone bad, then we can catch him."
It was a desperate gambit. Sasha didn't think she could contribute anything to finding this Lester, but if it bought her some time, she had to say it. Anything to stay out of Rapture. A bullet in the brain sounded wonderful compared to Rapture. Anything but Rapture. Anything but Rapture.
"I said I haven't decided yet," Tenenbaum said, turning back to her room. "It will take weeks of observation and study to determine your status. You best get comfortable."
Without another word, she shut the door and vanished. Sasha and Jack were alone.
Jack rubbed his temples, and his warped throat grumbled. Sasha stepped away from him, and he gave her a look of apology, soft and sweet again. He reached out with one of his meaty hands, but it fell to his side. His eyes were tired. Giving her that small, coy smile, he started down the adjacent hallway and disappeared behind the door opposite Gloria's.
Now it was only her. She felt upset at the fact that she didn't have a door to hide behind in this tense, angry house. Standing there, she was more alone in the world than she had even been in her life. To think that the closest thing she had to a friend was the man she had watched kill thousands of people with a blank stare or even a tiny smirk of vicious glee. This was the norm now, to find herself in these little pockets of darkness. Holes in her life where she didn't have anyone to support her, where she was totally on her own. How did she feel about that? More confused than anything, worried about the future. Worried about herself. Her situation was putting her in survival mode.
Taking her socks off, she sat on one of the soft couches next to the sleeping Leroy. She ripped off the hospital bracelet tight around her wrist and flicked it across the room. Being careful not to disturb the Spider, she reached around and turned off one of the lamps, and only one, so there was still a hazy yellow light painting shadows on the wooden walls and dark leather furniture. Sasha lied back, putting a pillow under her head and drawing a threadbare throw blanket around her shoulders.
The other corner of the blanket went around Leroy, who was shivering. As their family did, she gave the pathetic mutant a stroke on his wretched head. Be thankful, she thought. Be thankful you are not a pet. Be thankful you can remember where you were born, and who your parents are. Be thankful that you still have your shame and your pride. Be thankful that you can stand upright and act like a real person, and that you can think about more than food and affection. Be thankful you are not an animal.
As the quiet settled in, and the city began to tire, Sasha fell asleep. Falling into a deep, dreamless sleep, she rested off the stress and misery of the preceding day. She slept with one hand on her new friend's back, calmed by the up and down of his breathing. Knowing that she had just one person who definitely cared about her and would never leave her was the only comfort she had.
So maybe she wasn't truly alone.
This chapter brought to you without commercial interruption. Also, I wish that Spider Splicers had been given more of an explanation. Why are they so vastly different and so feared by other Splicers? Especially in BioShock 2, where they barely resembled full human beings, and were something approaching animal/human hybrids. I think they're fascinating and pretty lovable. How scary can you be when you're voiced by Yuri Lowenthal, the man who played Van Von Hunter, Saskue, Ben Tennyson and the new Iceman in Wolverine and the X-Men?