"I'm not going to ask you again," the
stranger said, stepping closer and levelling their complicated-looking gun at
the two women, "Who are you and what are you doing here?"
Sarah couldn't find words. She could barely think. her mind was filled with images of Dimsun as
she had known him over the past few months; memories of his steady voice,
guiding her through the mysteries of Shadow, his solid form the one reliable
thing in a world of inconstant strangeness.
It was as if the ground had been ripped up under her feet and she was
falling into nothingness. Oh, God, she cried, why?
Fortunately Diana still had her voice and as the
stranger cocked their gun and pointed it first at Diana, then at Sarah, then
back again, she answered.
"We're not from Fracture," she said,
"but we came to see Doctor Barkham."
It was an ambiguous statement, giving away no
allegiances, but making it clear that they were not there as part of the
violence. The Stranger seemed to be
thinking about it.
"What did you need to see Doctor Barkham
about?" they asked.
Sarah was struggling, but even she could tell that
this stranger, whoever they were, was on the Doctor's side. Diana responded accordingly.
"It's personal business. We didn't realise Fracture would be so..
Fractured. We've been unsure what's
going on since we got here and it has made contacting her all the more
difficult."
The stranger stood, staring at them in silence for a
moment, then stepped closer still. Sarah
glanced up through tear-blurred eyes and finally saw who was speaking to them:
a young man, his youth hidden by a voice both deep and smooth. He had short brown hair and a thick, scruffy
beard with threads of ginger running through it. His clothes were unkempt and well-worn, held
tight to a lean body with straps and belts carrying ammunition and bladed
edges.
"Are you.. are you alright?" he
asked. He looked confused, like he
really didn't know what to do with two young women, one of whom looked like a
monster, the other, a damsel in distress.
It was that look - and the realisation that went
with it - that made Sarah finally wipe the tears from her eyes, take a deep
breath and regain control of herself. I am stronger than this, she told
herself, and there will be time to grieve
later.
"We just lost a dear friend in that
collapse," she replied as calmly as she could.
"I... I'm sorry." He seemed to make a
decision. "I'll take you back to
the Museum right away. You can get some
rest there and recover and then... then we'll see if Doctor Barkham is able to
see you."
"Thank you," Sarah replied.
"Our message is most urgent," Diana added
and when the stranger glanced at her Sarah spotted the little shudder of
revulsion that went with it.
"I'm sure," he replied, "but she is
very busy co-ordinating the resistance against the Lakhma faction, and she'll
want to know who you are, of course."
"Of course," Sarah replied, "and
we'll be happy to make those introductions ourselves."
The stranger gave her a long, hard look. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, but
Sarah got the impression that he was appraising her somehow. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know his
conclusions. After his eyes had stared
into hers for a moment, then flitted up and down her body rather casually – she
had to supress a shudder – she cleared her throat and he shook his head,
tossing his hair wildly for a moment before it settled back down.
“Well, whatever,” he said at last, “but firstly we
need to escort you to the Museum. As you
can see, the streets are far from safe these days.”
He turned and whistled into the blaze-dark square
and soon two other young men in similarly rough clothing and carrying equally
impossible weapons came stumbling to a halt before them.
“Is the area the clear?” the stranger asked his
companions, his voice suddenly weighted with authority.
“Yes, captain,” one of the other youths replied, “we
killed the majority of the sorcerers, with one or two slipping into the
backstreets at the last minute. Even they
were injured, though. I don’t think
we’ll see them back for a while.”
“Good. In
that case we have a new objective. We need
to escort these two to the Museum and hold them in custody until we are able to
ascertain whether or not they pose any danger.”
“They look pretty harmless to me,” the other youth
said, although when he glanced at Diana he grimaced, “although there’s nothing
pretty about her.”
Sarah gritted her teeth, felt her nails digging into
her hands and tried to suppress the urge to let her hypostatick energies surge
with the powers of a Slayer. She could
only hope that Diana was able to restrain herself also. A quick glance in her direction confirmed
that she was, in fact, behaving as docile as a lamb, albeit a very deformed and
muscular one.
“Even so,” the captain continued, “we need to be on
a guard, both for their safety and for ours.
Will, you’re on point and Tyler, you take the rear.”
“Yes, sir!” the youths replied before hefting their
considerably guns and moving into position.
“As for you,” the captain turned, and once again he
seemed very young, “I’ll need you to stay ahead of me where I can see you for
now, but rest assured I’ll lead you to cover if it comes to another fire
fight.”
“Chivalry is not yet dead,” Diana said dryly.
“Not in Fracture,” the captain replied without
irony, before gesturing them away from the rubble with his gun.
Sarah took one last glance at the pile of debris
which had killed Dimsun. She still
couldn’t believe that he was yet lying under there somewhere. It seemed a poor grave and the thought
threatened to bring tears to her eyes once more. She let them come, just a little, just enough
to let the captain think she was as weak as he obviously thought she was, and
then, as she glanced away from the carnage at the edge of the square, she made
sure he saw it.
“It’ll be alright,” he said in lieu of anything
meaningful as he began to march them away, “somehow it will be.”
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