"It's a tie," Joe said incredulously, staring at the two Immortals.
It had been quite the journey to bring Duncan and Methos safely back to his bar.
Duncan's new Watcher, a young man named Michael Acker, had been carefully tracking Duncan throughout the Gathering, trying to stay away from all the Gathering-crazed headhunters who followed him and ensuring he captured every challenge on video. Joe had trained Michael as his replacement in the early 2010s when it got to be too demanding to follow Duncan. Plus, the Tribune sort of insisted. His superiors apparently didn't think it counted if Duncan texted Joe when he got a challenge. Despite most of them being twenty years Joe's junior, they were a rather stubborn bunch of Luddites.
Joe still worked for the Watchers, as no Watcher ever really retired, but he was more involved in administration than active field duty these days.
Michael had lost Duncan in Arizona but had figured out he likely had gone towards the Vermilion Cliffs National Monument. Michael surmised that if he drove along US Highway 89A, he'd spot Duncan. Of course, that was guessing that Duncan would come back this way and not simply go north into Utah and eventually reach US Highway 89. But that would take much longer, and Michael gambled that Duncan (who appeared free from the Gathering madness) would more sensibly go south than north.
So for a few days, Michael drove along Highway 89A in his black panelled van (doctored to look like a handyman's van, it was disturbing how easy it was to allay concerns so long as you walked briskly and made as if you were on official business), frequently stopping to take out his binoculars and see if there was any indication of a quickening. He was constantly on his cell getting updates from other Watchers. As best as anyone could tell, Duncan had unknowingly become the One, or his final opponent was tracking him down.
The researchers were pretty confident Duncan had to be either the last Immortal or a finalist, as every other known Immortal was accounted for, except for Karolos Papadopoulos, Annabelle Moulin, and Adam Pierson. Papadopoulos, a well-known seven-hundred-year-old Greek headhunter, had last been seen getting dogpiled by several crazed Immortals in Zürich. His Watcher lost track of him and had witnessed a quickening go off. Still, he couldn't tell if it was from Papadopoulos or one of the other Immortals. All those other Immortals had been later accounted for. However, nobody saw Paradopoulos's head get taken, so many Watchers favoured the theory that an unknown Immortal got killed and Papadopoulos was hunting Duncan.
Moulin's death hadn't been witnessed, but everyone was pretty sure she was dead, not at the hands of another Immortal, but from something far more tragic. Moulin was a relatively young Immortal of only 39 years old with no kills to her name. She was among the few young Immortals not infected with the Gathering madness.
In the early days of the Gathering, when there was still a bit of separation between all the headhunters, Moulin sought to flee Europe (where most of the fighting was taking place) and go to the United States. She bordered American Airlines flight 6930 on a Boeing 777 at London Heathrow Airport, travelling to JFK. However, something went catastrophically wrong on landing in New York as the horizontal stabilizer on the plane snapped off when the 777 began descending on its glideslope, and the pilots lost control of the aircraft as it went into a nose dive, crashing into the ground at supersonic speeds, killing all 372 people on board. There may have been some pilot error, something about the engines going to full thrust at the worst possible moment. The plane was reduced to tiny pieces, making recovering any bodies impossible. The Watchers were fairly confident Moulin was dead, having been torn apart on impact. With no Immortal to catch her quickening, it was judged lost. A rather tragic end to such a young life.
And then there was Adam Pierson.
Oh boy.
Methos had faked his "First Death" in the late 90s, and virtually nobody suspected him of having infiltrated the Watchers but incorrectly thought he was a preimmortal who suffered his First Death in a car crash. Of course, nobody knew he had actually died at the time. Methos had deliberately concealed it poorly, went on to get his doctorate in computer science at MIT, and then was hired again by the Watchers under another assumed name, Adam Rhodes, in the American division.
Nobody recognized him since Adam Pierson never really frequented the North American Watcher circles (just the European ones). Also, Pierson was an ancient researcher specializing in history and dressed like a European grad student (baggy sweaters, papers in his pockets, always a book in hand). Meanwhile, Adam Rhodes was a computer engineer who wore baggy t-shirts with anime characters and carried around a laptop. Methos as Dr. Rhodes proceeded to modernize the Watchers, leading the way to link all the different Watchers groups electronically and was widely recognized as a pioneer in technologically advancing the Watchers.
He was then 'discovered' (Joe figured Methos deliberately leaked it) to be an Immortal in 2012.
Joe found the whole thing to be rather clever. The way Methos sought to hide the entire car crash in the 90s was good (as you'd expect of an intelligent, resourceful young man) but not so good as to imply an ancient Immortal of independent means and hard-won experience. He reused the first name "Adam," something many young Immortals did in the first few centuries of their new lives. His transition into computers rather than ancient research made sense when you considered that Adam Pierson was somewhat into computers (he did program the Online Watcher Chronicles v1.0), so wanting to make a break from his previous life, the new Immortal would have continued doing something familiar, but not too similar to what he did before to avoid detection. Methos even allowed the new Watcher computer experts to suss out he had been teleconferencing Duncan MacLeod a lot, hilariously implying that the Highlander just might be his teacher.
Duncan had broken down laughing when Joe told him that.
However, although the Tribune just about lost their minds when they discovered Adam Rhodes/Pierson was an Immortal, they couldn't do anything other than lock Methos out of their servers, something the younger Watchers found to be quite ludicrous. It was an open secret that Adam Rhodes still hopped onto the online Global Watcher Network and would submit bug fixes and propose new features. He would do this sometimes in his Rhodes identity and sometimes in his other identities (that list was getting rather long). His suggestions the Watcher engineering heads would publicly reject but then privately implement ("employ two-factor authentication for all Watchers, of course, we rejected that proposal as it came from Adam Rhodes, who we, of course, don't consult with regularly because he's an Immortal" and then in the same breath "so we were thinking on doing multi-factor validation with hardware security tokens...").
They also assigned a Watcher to him, a young woman named Felicie Schuler, but it was well-known that Adam didn't headhunt and would run to Holy Ground if confronted. So she mainly just chatted with him on a private Discord server, and he'd keep her appraised of his activities there. The Tribune was letting that slide since trying to keep surveillance on a man who literally built their new global computer system from the ground up was next to impossible. They also ignored that the two routinely played video games online with each other. They repeatedly disregarded that "Adam Rhodes" was tutoring her in computer programming. They might get salty about Joe privately messaging Duncan, but in their minds, Duncan was an actual contender for the Prize, so he really did need proper watching.
And they were so embarrassed at the whole situation that they just wanted to pretend the entire Adam Rhodes scandal never happened (much to Methos's delight).
Like Moulin, Adam Pierson had no kills to his name and was seen as a skinny geek who probably couldn't go two rounds with a paper bag. Methos's performance was so convincing even Joe had to catch himself sometimes feeling sorry for the "unprepared nerd."
As a result of his reputation as a weak Immortal, virtually everyone thought Methos in his Pierson/Rhodes persona, who disappeared in the first week of the Gathering, was dead. His own Watcher, Felicie, had even sadly submitted a death report. Felicie was in tears on the phone with Joe describing how "Adam" had confided with her before about being very unsure about his swordwork despite having practiced a bit with a friend (friend obviously meaning Duncan MacLeod, she stated confidently). Poor brilliant Adam was dead.
Despite nobody witnessing a quickening, the Tribune all readily agreed he had to be dead because he was Adam Pierson. No way he could survive.
How Joe kept a straight face through all those conversations was a mystery.
So the researchers and administrative heads all agreed that if Duncan was being chased into the Arizona wilderness by another Immortal, it had to be either an unknown Immortal or Papadopoulos.
The Tribune had ordered Michael to enter the wilderness to track down MacLeod, but Joe pointed out that Michael had no survival training and would likely be killed by a bear or something. No, he better stay on the road and try to catch the winner as they returned to the abandoned motel on Highway 89A. Michael fervently agreed.
Since Michael was refusing to go and Joe wasn't cooperating with them, the Tribune scrambled a response team to fly from France to the United States. Unfortunately for them, Duncan fled into the woods just when the borders were closed again due to another outbreak of Covid. The Tribune tried to force the American Watcher division to send in their best to hunt down MacLeod, but they were unwilling to risk their people.
The head Watcher of the American branch, Anangikwe (on file as Anangikwe Anangikwe, a common naming practice of those with mononyms registered in binomial systems), the youngest regional head ever at only 27 years old, was a legacy Watcher of the old Witness order. Anangikwe basically told the European Tribune where they could shove it, that she wasn't risking her field agents on a suicide mission, and that they didn't understand how extreme the terrain was in that Arizona park, especially with the heat wave going through the area. To say nothing of the reports from the NOAA of a possibility of severe flooding. While it might be a clear blue day in some areas of the park, storms were raging in other areas, bringing the risk of flooding further downstream. In those narrow canyons, they may as well just shoot themselves.
That had been an interesting conference call, with Joe and Michael basically sitting silently as Anangikwe shouted that they were all backward idiots who were going to get everyone killed. Tribune head Marcel Séverin (a 65-year-old French man) screamed back she was a traitor. Anangikwe reminded them that when the Witnesses joined the Global Watcher Network, they did so to better serve their ancestral mission of witnessing Immortal battles. Dying as a result of exposure or drowning didn't serve their mission. She then stated something in Ojibwe, which Michael later translated for Joe (the young man having quite a head for indigenous languages) as an old Witness proverb, "A dead Witness can't witness anything." Well, can't argue with that.
She also stated, somewhat smugly, that, technically, the Witnesses had negotiated an exception clause regarding challenges in the Americas, so the Tribune had no authority over her Watchers.
Anangikwe said if he wanted to see Duncan MacLeod take Karolos Papadopoulos's head, he could send his people across the Mexican or Canadian border illegally, but she wasn't sending in her people.
Joe and Michael, realizing this wasn't going anywhere, that the political infighting would likely go on and on for hours with no actual resolution, had exited the conference call, and Michael decided to keep doing what he initially chose to do, drive along Highway 89A.
So Michael continued to watch the highway and the Arizona park, knowing a quickening would likely be visible from there.
But nothing came.
And days later, as he was again driving by the abandoned motel, Michael was shocked to discover a dirty Duncan MacLeod weakly limping forward before collapsing on the ground, the emaciated, filthy Immortal clearly unable to walk any further.
Michael had stopped his van, intending to call Joe to report that Duncan had been found, when he saw another figure stagger out of the wilderness. A grimy man in ruined army fatigues and a bulletproof vest sat beside the unconscious MacLeod.
Michael had told Joe this Immortal didn't look like Karolos Papadopoulos. Joe asked him to describe the other Immortal. The Immortal's description didn't sound familiar, but the sword Michael reported seeing him lay down beside Duncan was an Ivanhoe.
It had to be Methos!
Joe had felt his stomach twist in dreaded hope; another Immortal might have stolen Methos's sword after taking the Old Man's head. With a trembling hand, Joe forwarded through the Watcher messaging app a picture of Adam Pierson, asking Michael to confirm if that could be the Immortal.
Michael confirmed it, and Joe had to sit down.
Duncan was alive.
Methos was alive.
In a desperate panic, Joe demanded that Michael retrieve both Immortals and take them to Joe's bar in Seacouver.
Had this been the 1990s, Michael would have likely refused in outrage, called Joe an oath breaker, and promptly scheduled him for execution. However, times had changed, and many of the younger Watchers were more tolerant of interacting with Immortals (much to the frustration of the older Tribune leaders). And with Anangikwe basically ignoring the orders of the European Tribune, she likely would turn a blind eye to Michael doing everything short of beheading an Immortal.
This led Joe to this moment, both his Immortal friends safely nestled in the backroom of his bar.
Methos was lying on a couch. The Old Man melted into the cushions like it was a heated waterbed or something. He moaned in delight when Joe gave him a thin soup (if the starved Immortal ate any more, he'd probably throw it up). Michael had driven straight to Joe's. He had intended to share his supplies with them. However, both Immortals had actually died upon collapsing into the back of his van, and Michael had then spent the next 19 hours paranoid about getting pulled over by the police and them finding two corpses in his van. He drove the speed limit, obeyed all traffic laws to the letter, and only stopped for refuelling.
Upon arriving, Michael had shakily parked his van, and Joe had his waitress Jessica drive him to Joe's house to rest and promised to keep the young man posted on their recovery. Neither Watcher had decided to inform either the American division or the European division, guessing it would be better for any announcements to occur once both Immortals were more recovered. Although the first Watcher Joe would probably inform would likely be Felicie Schuler, who was still distraught over the death of Adam Rhodes. The young lady was currently still on leave (since the reassignment process takes into account the emotional and psychological well-being of Watchers).
Methos and Duncan had revived shortly after, and Joe got them into his backroom.
At first, Methos had said something idiotic about ordering pizza which he abandoned when Joe reminded him about refeeding syndrome and how Immortals were not immune. Right now, the ancient Immortal was letting Duncan do all the talking as he clearly had no compulsion to move.
Both Immortals were in terrible condition—about fifty or more pounds underweight, with yellowish skin, missing hair in places, and the grubbiest beards Joe had ever seen. Joe had closed the bar and had given all his employees the day off.
"Yes," Duncan confirmed, laying down in an armchair, having not managed to beat Methos to the sofa. He was drinking a bottle of water that Joe scrambled to get for him. The Highlander was slowly nursing it like the finest wine. "Neither one of us wins."
"But…well, I mean, I am glad you two are alive," This entire situation was simply too much for him. Joe despaired when the reports came in regarding Richie, Amanda, and other Immortals he knew. He kept expecting to hear about someone witnessing Duncan or Methos getting killed, but he never did, "but does that mean there isn't a One."
"MacLeod can take that honour," Methos said suddenly. A bit of his soup dribbled down his beard and onto his chest. It was concerning because Methos was usually quite neat. "If it's a matter of someone taking up the mantle of power and control and whatnot. I'm content to drink your beer and have a good night's sleep. Being the One would be too much responsibility and work."
Duncan stared at him incredulously. The water bottle was placed on an end table next to the armchair.
Oh dear, they are going to argue.
"What, I'm an old man," Methos grumbled. "If anyone deserves to take a break, it's me."
"And I'm not," Duncan shot back. His voice was hoarse, but at least he was responding and not staring blankly into the distance like before. "I may not be five thousand, but four hundred and thirty-one isn't a spring chicken either. I don't want to be the One."
"Aww, aren't you cute, counting your individual years," Methos mocked Duncan. "Wait till you're four digits and start rounding off. Then you can complain about being old."
Duncan grumbled at him in Gaelic.
Methos actually stuck his tongue out.
"I don't want to be the One," Duncan complained, slouching in his chair and glaring at Methos. "You take it."
"Older Immortal prerogative, you take it," Methos commanded. The command was somewhat diminished because Methos didn't look capable of fighting a kitten.
"What? You don't want to share your wisdom with the world," Duncan said sarcastically.
"What wisdom? I know how to make a flint knife, how to make fire with anything, and what plants and mushrooms can be safely eaten, which is oh so useful today in the age of cell phones and nukes," Methos rolled his eyes. "Oh no, if someone has to take on that responsibility, it can be you, our honourable and stuffy Highlander."
"Maybe the two of you could share it," Joe suggested somewhat facetiously. This was getting ridiculous, but he was so utterly relieved he had to sink down onto the only other surface in the backroom—a chair he had been reupholstering. Neither man was acting any bit differently. Methos made outrageous remarks, and Duncan inevitably responded. The two would then argue like a pair of twelve-year-olds on the Internet. He had wondered (despite Michael's report on Duncan) if either would be infected by whatever it was that turned the majority of Immortals into braindead murderous psychopaths.
The Watcher researchers debated what made almost all Immortals into psychopathic monsters and what allowed a precious few to survive with their minds and souls intact. Joe mostly stayed out of the debates but dreaded finding out that Duncan was going on a killing spree or that Methos had depopulated several countries. While the Gathering madness seemed to turn everyone into murderous idiots, some watchers observed that a few of those infected had their talents and intelligence preserved. The damage Duncan could do with his prodigious skill (however diminished) would be horrific. And with his past and intelligence, Joe didn't even want to think about what a Gathering madness infected Methos would do.
Thankfully, it appeared the Gathering madness passed them over.
"Joe, why are you laughing," Duncan sputtered. "This isn't funny."
"No… it's not," Joe wiped some tears from his eyes as the last few months of horror and despair didn't disappear. So many Immortals were dead.
Maybe that was why the Watcher Tribune told you not to get involved. Not for the Oath or anything like that, but because it hurt so badly when they died (look at poor Felicie Schuler). And they weren't supposed to go first. Joe was. He was the mortal here, but now he had outlived all these people.
Except for the dramatic, always far too heroic Highlander and the sarcastic, cunning Oldest Immortal.
"Hey," Somehow, Methos had gotten up and crossed the room without Joe having seen him do it. The old Immortal had his hand on Joe's shoulder. "We aren't going anywhere."
"You aren't?" Joe asked shakily. He didn't want this to start again suddenly.
"I'll stick around to ensure Mac doesn't do anything too stupid," Methos promised. "Kid needs a keeper."
Duncan snorted.
"Don't lie to me about this, Methos," Joe said quietly, not about to be distracted by Methos's ever-present redirections. "You two might think you're old, but you don't know what it is like to be in your seventies and have so many of your friends die."
Methos didn't respond but pulled Joe into a hug. He was far too bony. And he stunk so badly Joe would probably need to hit him with a garden hose later. But he was alive, and that, for now, would have to be enough. Another hand was on his back, and he knew Duncan had joined in.
Joe broke down.
"It's over, Joe," Duncan said softly.
"At least for us, it is," Methos stated cryptically.
Joe pulled back from the Old Man, confused by his statement, "What do you mean?"
"Yeah, Methos, what do you mean?" It was good that Immortals couldn't get wrinkles because, with the worrying Duncan did, he'd probably look at least twice his physical age.
"MacLeod," Methos said slowly. "We may be the last two Immortals on earth, but nothing says that whatever causes preimmortals to appear has stopped."
Duncan gaped at him.
Joe wiped his eyes and couldn't help but ask, "You think the Game could just start up again? Like in a few decades when they all grow up."
Methos shrugged, "Well, I certainly won't start it."
Joe rolled his eyes. Yeah, as he said to Duncan so long ago, Methos really was the one Immortal he could trust never to go looking for a fight.
However, while Methos seemed quietly resigned, Duncan wasn't. For the first time since he came back, Joe could see something entering Duncan's eyes that had been missing. Resolve. "No, it won't."
"MacLeod," Methos sighed in exasperation. "You can't know…."
"It won't," Duncan ground out. "Because you and I are not going to tell anyone."
Methos looked briefly shocked but then intrigued. "Ooooohhhh, you want to engage in subterfuge. Tell me more."
"It's not subterfuge," Duncan groaned.
"Oh, Joe," Methos grinned. "My lessons have finally sunk in! It only took…twenty-eight years or so."
"Methos…," ever want to see a four hundred and thirty-one-year-old man whine?
"No, no, no backing out," Methos shook his head, still looking incredibly pleased. "We are so going to engage in a campaign of deception."
Joe hadn't seen Methos this giddy since his hour-long defence as Adam Pierson in the 90s to the Watcher ancient research committee that Methos was a fictitious character. He argued long and hard that they should close the Methos chronicles while Dr. Amy Zoll foamed at the mouth.
"Sure, whatever," Duncan granted reluctantly. "The point is that we don't tell them. So, they don't kill each other."
"Perhaps we can go one step further," Methos mused. "We can tell them that the rule of Immortal life is that no Immortal may kill another. After all, we'll be older than any of them. They have to listen to us. We can basically control the entire Immortal race!"
"I thought you didn't want world domination," Duncan asked drily.
"It comes and goes in waves."
"Methos!"
Now Joe was laughing, genuinely, and maybe that was the Old Man's intention. But Duncan seemed to have a bit of life in his eyes now that he had a plan of action, and even Methos looked more alert.
None of this negated the horror of the utter massacre that just took place, the countless number of Immortals who died in the onslaught of the Gathering. But maybe, just maybe, the future wouldn't be all doom and gloom.
Perhaps another Gathering would happen in the future. Maybe that came and went in waves too. Of course, Joe wouldn't live to see it, and there were far too many ways all this could go wrong, like the fact that everything from the first instance of the Game was recorded with the Watchers. But he trusted that with Duncan MacLeod overseeing it and Methos doing all the strategic thinking, a future where Immortals didn't kill themselves off was at least possible.
"So to the winner does go the prize, the prize to reshape the Immortal world at least," Joe stated.
"Maybe Joe," Methos responded, looking at Duncan. "I guess we'll see."
