November 14, 2009
Chapter 1: Overcast
Temple of Dai Shi
"Dai Shi," Camille began, kneeling on one knee, "the rangers have proven to be formidable adversaries. There has to be some way to destroy them." The chameleon dared not to look her master in the eyes.
Jarod rubbed his chin subconsciously. "Yes, they have become quite the nuisance."
Hartford's Mansion
It was somber outside. The grey clouds with streaks of white listlessly floated over the manor where the reception was being held. The solemn mood outside the gloomy looking mansion, now holding only two where there once were three, reflected the inside, all too well.
There was a larger turn out than expected for the burial of the two rangers. It was both comforting and terrifying; the continual reminder that the union of so many rangers was for the celebration of the lives of two youths, now dead.
Andrew blamed himself for the one death more than the other, but both weighted heavily on the archeologist's shoulders. Everyone told him what his crew had, it was a freak accident. Nevertheless, it happened, and it could not be undone.
The billionaire was brought out of his dismal thought process by the appearance of the black ranger. The African American was dressed in a black suit, his eyes downcast, and his hands shoved in his pockets. Will Aston stood quietly next to his mentor. "It was my fault, Mr. Hartford. I should have gone along to help. I just . . ." whatever else he was going to say died off.
"Will," Andrew interrupted, putting a limp hand on his teammate's shoulder, "this wasn't your fault – it wasn't anyone's fault." A pang of contradiction pulsated in the older man's heart. "This was . . . a freak accident." Will starred Andrew in the eyes. The billionaire held his breath, hoping Will wouldn't see through his lie. The black ranger bobbed his head up and down mechanically and sauntered over to the rest of the remaining team.
Hours Later
The room had pretty much cleared, except for a few people who had more of an attachment than most to the two fallen rangers.
Her tears sparkled under the lights of the living room. The Asian man accompanying her came up beside her when he noticed the blue wind ninja starting to lose her composure, which she had worked so hard to build in the ill attempt at saying her few words of condolences to the grieving team.
Blake hushed his girlfriend as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and brought her close to him. The last thing Andrew heard, before reverting his attention back to what was left of the long procession of mourners, was Tori whisper, "They were so young. They – they were alive not but six months ago. It's just not right," she sobbed into her boyfriend's shoulder.
Tori's sobbing wasn't the only crying Andrew was suffered to hear. Kira held on to dear life to her sister in yellow. It was heart-wrenching to listen to the two women mourn. Wailing at every memory of their time shared with the deceased sailed through their minds. Ronny cried so hard she shook; even under Will's strong arms did it not hamper her convulsions. At one point the racecar driver thought that her heart would just burst; explode into dust particles.
The yellow Dino ranger meandered to the Overdrive mentor, whispering her condolences. She was escorted out by two men, one wearing a crimson tailored shirt, the other a dark blue blazer.
Andrew's mind wandered to the only other red ranger he had ever met, Bridge. Would he be here? He supposed he couldn't. But then, why wouldn't the eccentric ranger from the future divulge this most horrible fate to them so that they could avoid such a tragedy? Or was it that he didn't know? Or maybe he couldn't. Maybe their deaths were meant to happen for a greater good. Maybe that is why they had to die. What greater good, though? However, that answer could go on forever. Andrew didn't have that luxury to search for that answer right then. Either way, they – what was left of the team – were stuck to follow this suddenly altered course in life.
The billionaire was disturbed in his thoughts by a man with an Australian accent. He was dressed as every other mourner, but somehow, he stood out. It wasn't the forest green shirt, or the accent . . . Xander just was a person who stood out. His polished looks that said he tried, but didn't. Xander had been circling the banquet table, pacing the drink layout for nearly a half hour, desperately trying to come up with more than a "sorry." For the Aussie, the word "sorry" seemed so insensitive, overdone, misused. The word "sorry," in general, had lost its meaning.
To say "sorry" would be stupid. Everyone says "sorry." Why? It wasn't our fault. It was a . . . freak accident. But, to have succumbed to death by an accident non-ranger related seems too surreal. I, for one, never thought that my death if not related to my duties as a ranger wouldn't come by any other means than old age; as good and young looking as I'll be. But, still, this doesn't seem right. With all the magic at the tips of my fingers and I couldn't help – let alone save them. I'll have to think of something better than "sorry."
The Mystic Force ranger strolled over until he was standing in front of Mr. Hartford. "I'm sorry for your loss." Xander wanted to kick himself. "It's a terrible loss. I wish there was something I could do – have done," he smiled, looking down at his shoes. The older gentlemen nodded, but raised an eyebrow in perplexity at why the green ranger was grinning.
Andrew had been told of the green ranger's flirtatious behavior, but the archeologist would have liked to think Xander had more class than to let his mind twaddle in the gutter at such a time as this.
The record shop manager was thinking of a certain pink ranger. His thoughts weren't vulgar, no, they were fond memories. Xander's mind played like a slide show highlighting his chase after the Philippine girl; her continual, yet, gentle rejections. It was like a game of tag with really no end, or goal in mind. Both knew nothing would ever happen, but it . . . was fun. A fling in its purist form, or so the mystic ranger chalked it up to be. His smile changed to a forlorn frown, the memories fading as the "here and now" of reality sank in. She was dead, and he – he was just the keeper of those memories.
As Xander left, Andrew focused his attention on the last person in the room who hadn't left. Adam. At this point, every ranger was raw, and their minds raked with inconclusive answers, or lost in memories. The black Mighty Morphin ranger stood there facing the team he once helped.
The veteran ranger examined the dejected youths standing in front of him. Tyzonn looked at him, his eyes red and distant. The Mercurian and his wife had ventured to stay on Earth and travel. They were going to depart last week back to Mercuria, but now they couldn't. Tyzonn felt trapped, it wouldn't be right deserting his friends, despite how much he wanted to leave. Death swallowed up two of his friends at once. Again, the hand of Fate came down and claimed people he cared about. The mercury ranger felt a small hand grasp tightly around his, and he looked over to his wife, her eyes bloodshot, covering the whites of her eyes, almost invading the blue hue of her irises. This was a dark day for all the rangers.
Shattered was the only word to describe the blue ranger. Some part of him still held on to hope that it was a horrible nightmare he would wake from soon. It was a shock to get the call from Will relaying that two of his closest friends had perished in an accident. Every so often the blue ranger swayed from the ball of his foot to his heel and back; the depression of what was going on taking over the young man momentarily, and forcing him into a state of dizziness.
Adam approached the wreck of the late red ranger's father. The butler, now coming back into the room at a failed attempt to collect himself, stood by his employer. Andrew looked twice his age, and his butler looked like he had been singed by the gates of Hell. His face was flushed and moist, and his eyes completely red and big. What a miserable picture the once happy, carefree team posed.
"They were both great rangers. They will be remembered . . . I'll make sure of it," he said slowly. Why Mack? Adam wondered. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought of the former android as a protégé of some sort. And Rose, the world could have really benefited from her intelligence, her heart. They both would have made great contributions to the world and future rangers. A small twinkle, a tear, strolled down the veteran's cheek.
Late that Night
None of the rangers wanted to leave – they didn't want to stay, either. The only emotion they shared was the numbness that took over when every emotion conceivable to feel is so over used that the whole body to feels it is floating like a balloon and yet, at the same time, heavy and grounded like a ship anchor. The fatigue shown clearly on each ranger's face: the puffy eyes, the limp body, the frail and dejected look bestowed in their eyes, and signs of extensive crying marked by the trails of mascara.
Andrew departed from the group, needing time to himself. He grazed the keyboard with his fingers, wandering aimlessly around the unused Command Center, remembering the better days. The old headquarters had become a sanctuary, a retreat from facing the reality he no longer wanted to live in. Even though the world wasn't in peril anymore, some part of the archeologist wanted to return to that part. He couldn't fathom the reason for his son's and his former teammate's death, its meaning. Andrew sighed, it's all gone.
~ End Chapter 1