Disclaimer: Don't own anything, just playing in someone else's backyard.

*****

"Not human, what do you mean not human?"

Tommy threw the file of paperwork on the already overflowing folding table that served as his makeshift desk at the dig site.

"I mean, he looked like a human, but he wasn't."

The other end of the phone was silent. He could hear a slight tapping noise and knew Hayley was drumming her fingers on the computer table, a habit she took up when presented with something she didn't know what do with.

"So, is he some kind of monster?"

"I don't know," Tommy said.

"Well, I need more information if you want me to research it," Hayley said.

"I know," Tommy said. "I have an idea of where to look tonight, hopefully I'll find him."

"Good."

"How's the convention going?" Tommy asked. "Learning a lot of new computer codes to impress Ethan with?"

Hayley laughed at that, but it was only halfhearted. "Yeah," was all she said in response.

Tommy sat down in the rickety folding chair by his desk. "Okay, what's up?"

"What do you mean?" she said, her voice firmer now, but Tommy knew better.

"You've been distracted all morning, what's wrong? Did something happen?"

"It's nothing," she said. "It doesn't matter."

"Hey, no secrets, remember," Tommy said. "You can talk to me."

He heard a sigh at the other end of the phone and she paused before responding. "I met one of your old Ranger friends, Billy Cranston."

"Billy? He's there?" Tommy said brightening up at the memory of his old friend. "How is he?"

"He's…Tommy he's not in good shape."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I mean, I've been asking around about him, and…not many people have nice things to say."

Tommy shook his head. "Well you know he's never been the same since Cestria died."

"I think it's more than that," Hayley said. "When was the last time you talked to him?"

"I don't know, I think I emailed him a few weeks ago. He doesn't answer his phone much, he's usually busy with the university."

"He doesn't work for the university," Hayley said.

That made Tommy sit up a little. "What? He told me he got a job with one of those big schools he went to."

"He applied for professorship at MIT," Hayley said. "But he never completed his application. He does freelance work for some of the teacher there, that's it."

"That's strange," Tommy said. Why would Billy lie about that?

"Yeah," Hayley said. "It's probably nothing, just forget I said anything."

"No, it's cool," Tommy said. "I'll tell you what, I'll give him a call. He's probably just focused on some new project and doesn't want distractions from teaching and stuff. Don't worry about it. Just enjoy the convention. And if you see him again tell him I said hi."

"Yeah," Hayley said again in a tone that told Tommy she had no intention of dropping it. "I have to get to a presentation. Can I call you later?"

"Anytime," Tommy said. "Have fun."

"You too. Bye."

Tommy pressed the button on the phone to clear the call and then pulled up his contact list and scrolled through to Billy's name. He hit the call button and waited through four rings before voicemail picked up.

"You've reached William Cranston. Leave a message."

"Hey, Billy, it's Tommy. Sorry I haven't called in awhile but I'm on sabbatical in Mexico and I had some time. Call me back, we can catch up."

He left his number and hung up the phone, trying to remember if Boston was one or two hours ahead of Cancun. He shrugged, he could try again later. In the meantime he had other monsters to chase, at least he hoped it was just another monster.

*****

Sunset once again. Edward strolled along the beach in the dark. Several yards ahead there was a beach party of some kind. He turned and headed for the main road, not wanting to be around people tonight. After the disaster last night he didn't think he'd want any human interaction for awhile. He followed the road some distance until he was near the outskirts of the city. Once away from the crowds and prying eyes he began to run. He didn't hit full speed, but he ran much faster than would appear normal. He was running through sand and gravel in the desert several miles from the city. After while he stopped, not really knowing where he was, but it didn't matter. He was alone.

He'd hunted only a few days ago so food was not his goal, just peace. Out here it was just…quiet. It was strange that after spending every day trapped in a hotel room he would crave solitude, but there was something peaceful about a wide open space, a space of pure silence and depth. By day the hotel room he stayed in was riddled with people. As if the shouting and slamming of doors wasn't enough, he had to hear the thoughts of every person that passed by his door or window. He spent most of the day looking for distractions, reading or surfing the internet, but he could only take so much. He'd have to move on soon, maybe to some of the jungles down in Brazil. There was more rain down there, not to mention more cloud cover. He closed his eyes and inhaled the warm desert air.

His eyes shot open. Apparently he wasn't as far from humanity as he had thought. The breeze brought him the scent of humans, very close humans. What were people doing this far from the city at night?

He took another breath and concentrated, using the instincts he normally used to hunt to find the exact direction to go, then took off running again. It only took minutes to find the place, a small campsite set into the rocky soil. There were at least a dozen brown canvas tents of varying size, most were dark but a few whose thick canvas glowed a rich amber with light. He caught a whiff of kerosene in the air.

Edward opened his mind just a bit and could hear the buzz of thoughts from the people in the camp. Some thoughts were focused on various tasks at hand, preparing meals, relaxing with a book. Many were focused on something they called the site. He kept hearing people think about digging and finding treasure. He looked beyond the camp into the darkness and noticed a depression in the sand several yards from the camp. So they were explorers, scientists of some kind. He stood up to leave when the wind picked up and Edward caught a familiar scent in the air: sand and Crown Royal.

He turned back. It couldn't be, it just couldn't. It was too much of a coincidence that the man who'd spilled whisky down his shirt the night before would be here. He knew he should leave right away, but the temptation was too great.

Slowly, without making a sound, he moved through the camp. The tent he sought was near the center, a small tent, probably a few square feet smaller than his hotel room, set up on metal brackets. Inside a small lamp glowed, lighting worn cloth.

There was no one walking around outside so Edward crept to the front of the tent and looked through the thin split in the tent flap. Sure enough, a man sat on a folding chair at a rickety table leafing through papers. He had short cropped black hair and wore thin wire framed glasses to read. He scribbled furiously on a loose sheet of paper then sighed and slammed the manila folder over the paper and pushed it away. He picked up a small glass teetering on the edge of the table and tilted it back to drink, but found the glass was already empty. He shrugged and stood, then walked to somewhere out of view to Edward from this position.

It was him, Edward was sure. He reached out with his mind, but couldn't focus on the man's thoughts. He caught glimpses of surface thoughts, him looking for his water canteen, running through a mental list of things to do tomorrow, but it was muddled.

Then Edward heard his footsteps approaching the tent entrance and moved quickly, running fast in the direction he was facing. By the time the man stepped out of the tent he was long gone.

When Edward did stop he had to take a moment to figure out where he was. He realized that he'd run toward the dig site and stopped only inches from the edge of the large pit. The site was dark but his eyes could make out a few of the details. The depression was deep, fifty, maybe a hundred feet, but several yards from the edge the land rose again in a near perfect square shape.

Then Edward was aware of a strange humming sound in his ears. The noise was indistinct and well below human pitch. It was coming from the direction of that raised area.

Edward stepped off the edge of the depression and landed on the ground several feet below. The humming was slightly louder down here. Slowly he approached the area and his eyes adjusted to see that it was a large structure made of stone and metal. It reminded him of the pyramid tombs he'd seen in Egypt. He knew there were similar structures in Mexico and South America, perhaps this was one of them. These people had uncovered some ancient burial ground or hidden temple.

Except that for that noise. It got louder as Edward got closer to the structure. He could see the outlines of carvings on the outside. They were like hieroglyphs but in a language he didn't understand. When he was nearly arm's length to the wall he noticed that in the center was a large square panel that was carved to stand out from the rest of the carvings. The square's edges were no more than two feet across and down and inside were raised markings. Now that was strange.

He reached out to touch the square and the second his fingers connected to the stone his ears were filled with sound. Screaming, moaning, in every pitch of the spectrum ringing in his ears. He tried to step back but he couldn't move, the sound paralyzed him. Then there was a flash of light and more noise, only these sounds were different. It jolted him and his hand dropped from the square. The sound immediately diminished back into that deep hum, but the light he discovered was still there. He turned and saw several spotlights in the area had come on, flooding the trench. He could see shadows of people at the top of the depression. He was caught.

Then a human face loomed in front of him, a tall thin woman with wild curly hair that was only partially tamed by a thick scarf tied around her head. He hadn't even heard her approach.

"You!" she screamed. "Who the hell are you? This is a private dig site. Where did you come from?"

She was near screaming these questions in his face but Edward's head was still spinning and he couldn't find his voice to answer, though he was totally lost on what he'd say anyway.

"Hey!" a deeper voice shouted from the surface. Everyone turned to see a man standing there. It was him, Crown Royal himself. He walked to the ladder not far from where Edward had jumped and climbed down. He approached Edward and grabbed his arm. "Where the hell have you been?"

Again Edward opened his mouth to speak but the words didn't come. The man moved again and Edward caught a glimpse into his mind, amplified by the touch.

Play along. Please let him just play along.

"I told you I'd bring you down here tomorrow," he said. "You just couldn't wait, could you?"

"Uh, no," Edward said. "Guess not."

The man sighed and shook his head.

"You know this man?"

"Yeah," said Crown Royal. "He's the linguist I told you about…"

By then Edward's head had cleared enough to play along and he stepped forward and extended his hand. "Eddie Whittaker."

The woman threw a dubious glance at Crown Royal then at Edward. Luckily she didn't shake his hand. "Susan Freeburn. You're from Harvard?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"You don't sound like a Bostonian."

"Well I wasn't born there," he said. "I was born in Chicago."

"Hmmm…" The woman was obviously not convinced. Crown Royal didn't miss her skepticism either and clapped Edward on the back.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get you back to the tent, and we can sort it out in the morning."

"Good idea," Edward said.

The man still had his arm on Edward's back and moved it to his shoulder, taking a firm grip on him. Edward knew he could easily break out of the grip, but with so many witnesses he figured it was best to keep up appearances. They marched up the makeshift stairway at the other end of the trench and through the tent. Apparently the curly haired woman had raised the whole camp with her alert. They all seemed to keep a safe distance from them however. Edward could hear in their thoughts a mix of fear of the stranger, and reverence for the man escorting him.

"I've been looking for you," Crown Royal said softly.

"Really?" Edward said just as softly. "I hadn't heard."

They were near the man's tent now and didn't stop but pulled Edward into it. "It seems I owe you a drink."

They entered the tent and the man released his grip on Edward's shoulder and walked to the far side. The tent was smaller than Edward guessed. There was little more than an army cot with sleeping bag, and rickety folding table with matching chair. There was a small cabinet on the far side of the bed, fit in between the tent wall and the cot. The man had opened it and pulled out a bottle of his favorite whisky and was pouring it into two glasses.

"You're name is Tommy Oliver, right?" Edward said, remembering their introductions from the night before.

"That's right," he said. "Most people around here call me Doctor Oliver though."

"Doctor of what?"

"Paleontology."

"I didn't see any bones in that trench, Doctor," Edward replied dryly.

Tommy smiled. "You weren't looking for bones, though, were you?"

He held the glass of whiskey out, but Edward made no move to take it. "Thanks, but I don't drink."

Tommy shrugged. "I have water, or juice. I'd offer you milk but it's powdered, pretty nasty."

Edward smiled. "No, I mean, I don't drink at all, at least, not anything you would have."

This got a raised eyebrow from the good doctor but he said nothing as he set the spare glass on the desk and took a seat in the chair.

"Have a seat," he said. "What's you're name, then?"

Edward sat on the edge of the bed while Tommy sipped at his expensive whiskey. "I told you my name."

"You expect me to believe 'Eddie Whittaker' is you're real name?"

"I usually prefer Edward. You want to tell me why you were looking for me?"

Tommy nodded putting the glass to his lips again. "What are you?"

Edward looked him straight in the eye. "I'm a vampire."

His eyebrows went up ever so slightly. "And I'm a fucking Power Ranger."

"You don't believe me?"

"I didn't say that."

"Would you like me to prove it?"

Tommy's eyes perked up at this. Edward could feel a jolt of excitement go through his mind. "Can you?"

Edward leaned forward slowly and reached out his hand. Tommy didn't move until Edward wrapped his hand around his forearm. "Holy shit!"

Edward let go but he knew he had Tommy's attention now. "What else can you do?"

"I move fast, faster than you can see, I'm stronger than normal human as well." He paused and reached out trying to grasp what Tommy was thinking, but the man's mind was like a vice. He could feel the emotions on the surface, excitement, curiosity, but no definite thoughts or images like it usually was.

"So what does a fast, strong vampire want at an archeological dig site?" Tommy asked.

"Nothing. That was an accident."

Tommy raised his eyebrows not convinced. "You just wandered out here in the desert and stumbled onto our camp?"

"Something like that."

"Hmmm…" Tommy thought about that while taking another sip of whiskey. The smell of it was becoming intoxicating in the small environment.

Edward started at Tommy. He still wasn't sure what to think of him, but from the calm reaction he was pretty sure the man believed him, and he had helped him out of a tight spot. Still, his instincts told him not to stick around.

"Well, Dr. Oliver," he said standing up. "It's been fun, but I think I've taken enough of your time."

The man didn't move, but Edward felt a distinctive change in tone from his mind. "First of all, call me Tommy. Second, I don't suppose I could convince you to stick around and play the linguist roll, even for a day? I'm gonna have a hell of a time with Susan tomorrow."

"As curious as I am about that building down there, but I'm afraid Susan will be your problem. I don't go out during the day."

"Why is that?"

Edward raised an eyebrow. "Vampire, remember? Sunlight?"

"Sunlight will kill you?"

"Not exactly, but trust me, its something you don't want to see."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tommy said. "Do you want a ride back to town?"

"I can manage," Edward said. He headed for the tent flap and as he reached it the sound of humming filled his ears again. He turned back to Tommy. "By the way, that building, do you know what it is?"

Tommy shook his head. "We think it's either a temple of some kind, or a burial chamber."

"Don't open it."

He turned to the tent door and just as he lifted it he heard Tommy's voice behind him, spoken barely above a whisper, "Do you hear them too?"

"Yes," Edward said. "I hear them screaming." He turned and looked at Tommy putting as much pleading in his eyes as possible. "Don't open that door."

Without waiting for a response he stepped through the tent flap quickly and disappeared into the night.

*****

Sorry for the delay in this. As you've noticed there's a lot of stories on the board and this one got a little lost. Plotbunnies are moving slow on this one at the moment. Hope you enjoyed. Remember all reviews are welcome!