It doesn’t take us long to get back to Netherfield. The moment I cross the threshold I demand to be logged onto a secure line.
Topher says nothing and simply brings me his laptop while Meredith remains behind me. I wonder vaguely what she is thinking as I log on.
“Tap me in, Viczen,” I all but hiss. “This is the sort of conversation that needs to be done verbally.”
“Copy that, Wildcat.”
The screen comes to life and Tim sits back, a calm smile on his lips. “I was expecting you,” he observes smoothly. “Glad to see you still live up to certain expectations. I trust everything went well.”
“Just what the hell are you playing at, Tim?”
His expression sobers. “Now you understand why we’re needed.”
“What’s this about?”
“They’re evolving, Jaye,” Tim explains.
See what I mean about things going smooth? “How the hell did this happen? I thought the situation was contained.”
“You of all people know better than that, Wildcat. Things are never that simple. This team was the best, and evidently still is. You took care of five of them against some pretty interesting circumstances.”
“How did you…?” No…you didn’t…please tell me you didn’t… “You sent them here.”
He nods, “You had to see.”
He sees my reaction and decides to add a salt to the wound. “You’re not the only one who can do things for personal reasons.”
I bite, “Screw you, Tim.”
His lips twist into a smirk, “Already played that game, Jaye.” Shaking his head, he continues, “Look, you of all people must understand. Gather the rest of your team and Jump.”
“Is that an order, Senator?”
Tim’s eyes flash dangerously, “And don’t you forget it.”
He logs off.
With visibly shaking hands, I close the laptop. My senses and emotions begin to swirl.
“Jaye,” Topehr’s voice brings me back to reality. He puts a hand on my shoulder gently. “We ought to get your shoulder stitched up.”
I say nothing. I follow one of my oldest friends into the bathroom. I barely register Topher dressing the wound.
Betrayal shouldn’t be anything new to me, I think bitterly. Don’t I know all about it first hand? Karma’s a bitch sometimes.
You fucking moron. What did you expect?
Shut up.
This isn’t his fault you know.
…It’s mine…
What the expression? We reap what we sow?
“Jaye, you gonna be all right?” me Da queries gently.
“Yeah, I barely feel it.”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“I know.” Topher had the presence of mind to bring me a clean shirt. I pull it on and exit the bathroom with one goal in mind…
At least I don’t have to walk a mile…
I’m smoking a Camel Light on Topher and Meredith’s back porch. I love Camels. I wish I could explain it, but I really think you’d have to be a smoker to understand; which, for the record, I don’t recommend.
My mind is kind of blank right now. Fuck, that ain’t true…obviously. It’s more like I don’t want to think about much of anything right now is the point. Call it denial…cowardice…whatever.
I’m blowing out a puff of smoke when I hear the door. I don’t bother looking around because I know it’s her.
“I thought you gave up that filthy habit.”
I blow out a smoke ring. “We can see how well giving up habits has been, love,” I tell her mildly. “What do you care anyway? Don’t you want me dead?”
“You know that’s not true.” There’s actually an edge to her statement.
“My shoulder says otherwise.”
“Cut the bullshit, Jaye,” she retorts. “You know that was an accident.”
I shrug.
“Spare me the melodrama and the pity party, babe,” she tells me dryly. “It isn’t becoming.”
I smirk. I can always count on Meredith to put me in my place. I take one last, long, exaggerated drag of my Camel and stub it out. “Can’t help myself, love. I live to be dramatic.”
Mer blows out a sharp burst of breath. “What’s the plan?”
I shrug. I’ve been doing that an awful lot around her. “I’m not exactly plan chick.”
“Get your head out of your ass, Jaye! We don’t have time for you to be all broody.”
My jaw clenches. Oh, but it’s so much fun, I want to whine. Fuck if she’s not right, though. Seriously. When did I turn into such a whiney bitch? Get it together, girly. Youse gots some misbehavin’ to be done.
“Connor.”
Something in Meredith’s expression brightens. She actually smiles. “You know, I’ve actually missed him.”
I laugh. “You say that now, but then he’ll beat you at poker or something and it will be all downhill from there.”
“I have many hidden talents,” Mer says lightly. “Don’t underestimate me.”
I cannot help but grin. This is my friend Meredith. For a moment, all the tension and mistrust between us abates.
It is not long lived, to my great misfortune. There is a palpable beat and then Meredith’s expression and body language shifts, her eyes again adopt a dark edge uncharacteristic of Meredith at normal times. “We’re packing up,” she explains, her voice reflecting her demeanor. “We’ll be ready to go within the hour.”
I take this as an invitation to smoke another cigarette. She barely conceals her disgust. Some things never chance. She goes back into the house without another word.
It frustrates me that it’s come to this. I appreciate Mer’s frankness, however. It pulls me back as quickly as I had been sinking.
They don’t pack much. When Mer said they were packing up, she wasn’t really talking about a roll-aboard or anything. In every one of our residences, a secret room contains our other life. We store mostly weapons. We can be stark naked but as long as we’ve got something to fight with in our hands, we’re golden. (This isn’t to say we’re screwed without weapons – they just make things more fun. Like grenades.)
“Let’s get out of here,” Meredith says evenly.
There are some things Mer just can’t hide from me. She’s clearly upset despite the cold hard mask she attempts to wear. You can see it in her eyes.
I can sympathize, but that’s the extent of it.
“What happens to the house?” Topher queries.
“Burn it,” Mer growls.
“No,” I tell them. Ah, there’s the glare that’s been lacking these past few minutes.
“Don’t save it ‘cuz you plan on giving it back to us…”
“I’m not,” I reply flatly. “We might need to come back here. Besides, a fire would be hard to create.” Okay, so that last part is an incredibly flimsy explanation.
She wants to tell me off, I know. She doesn’t though…not that I’m overly bummed by that fact. Mer walk on ahead of us without another word.
Unconsciously, Topher takes the key from his pocket and then stops. “Should I even bother?”
“No one who isn’t supposed to will come by here,” I answer.
“Are you sure?”
I’m about to give me Da a look, but then recalling what Tim has told me about the Infecteds, I gotta admit, I ain’t too sure anymore.
Topher locks up anyway.
I know what you’re thinking. Is a deadbolt and a hunk of wood gonna make much of a gorram difference? What do ya take us for? Fools? The lock itself activates a bit of a homemade security system, courtesy of our techrats, of course.
“Where we headed?” Topher inquires.
“Death Valley.”
Me Da nods slowly. “Should we locate any of the others?”
I grin, “I like the way you think, Da.”
“Perhaps we oughtta come up with a plan.”
“Not here. Let’s go back to my townhouse and go from there.” I look to Meredith, trying to gauge her reaction. She simply nods, “Agreed. You’re probably better equipped for this.”
I’m grateful for her compliance.
***
I walk into the building with easy confidence. It has been quite a while since I’d last stepped foot in this place, but I remember what to do and where to go.
I sign in quickly and provide the proper identification.
The range ain’t spectacular or anything, not like some of the others Conner is keen on going to, but it’s convenient for what he needs.
I take the glasses and the earmuffs from the attendant and make my way to the actual shooting range.
I had never been one for firearms. I know, sounds crazy. I use ‘em out of necessity mostly. But honestly, they make me nervous.
There are only a few people in the stalls. I’m grateful for the earmuffs as the staccato of bullets sound throughout the room. I find an empty one and pull out my Sig Sauer P226 9mm pistol.
I load both the bullets and then the target. I take careful aim. I may not like the weapon in my hands very much, but I know how to handle it.
There’s something strange about firing a gun. Something powerful. I guess there’s something powerful about holding any kind of weapon or knowing what you’re really capable of, but guns are a whole different kind of power. When the bullet discharges from the chamber it’s wicked fast, and believe me when I tell you it’s painful. Funny what a tiny piece of metal is capable of.
Focus.
I have my target in my line of sight. I squeeze the trigger.
I smirk and lower the weapon. I don’t need to use the whole round to hit my target. I’d always been a one shot kind of gal.
I know he noticed. I can feel his Signature coming closer. “I knew it was you,” Connor’s familiar drawl remarks. He pushes the button to bring in the target; only in my case, it’s sans target since I shot out the pipe that was meant to hold it. He heaves an aggrieved sigh, “Only one person can be that shitty of a shot.”
I full out grin and face him. He’s clad in black, just as I expected him to be. “Well, I had a shitty teacher.”
“Hey, I was a great teacher,” Connor protests. “It isn’t my fault you didn’t take to it.” He smiles then, smacking me smartly on the shoulder. “How are you, Jaye?”
We were never ones for hugs, and I totally respect that. I smile apologetically, “I have some delicate business to discuss with you. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Connor’s face is emotionless, but his eyes convey both surprise and curiosity. He is right to be concerned; I am rarely so formal. “I have the feeling I’m gonna want a drink.”
“I’ll buy.”
We walk out into the parking lot in silence. The sun begins its descent and long shadows are cast into the desert.
And there it is.
That gorram tingle.
Oh, for cryin’ out…
“You all right?”
“Five by five.”
“You’re kinda scowly.”
“It’s a new look I’m going for,” I reply. I had really hoped that I coulda done this in a less public forum (not the parking lot is filled with people), but it seems like Tim doesn’t want to give me that luxury. “Connor, buddy, I’m really sorry about this…”
“What are you…?”
Flash!
I gotta give Connor props. He doesn’t waver. He just kinda starts a little and then he’s all kinds of standing military attention. I can’t say with authority I know what it’s like to have a flood of memories assaulting your senses, but it wigged out Topher and Mer, and they ain’t exactly porcelain dolls.
Connor regards me soberly. He nods curtly, “Wildcat.”
Roland and I have an understanding, something I don’t think Topher or Meredith ever really embraced. We’re both Warriors in every sense of the word. Neither one of us is really meant to be anything but.
Maybe that’s why I never tried.
Connor’s head cocks suddenly, as the rush of the Infecteds’s presence makes itself known to him more effectively. His muscles tense and his hand unconsciously moves to the weapon that isn’t at his side.
He scowls. “Ruttin’ society,” he mutters.
I can’t help but chuckle a bit. Despite his part as a police officer, he is very conscious of the rules of this society.
“Where’re Darrow and Silver Fox? I assume their awake.”
“They’ve got missions of their own,” I reply.
It’s down to business. Much like my first night back in the fight, Connor has a bag of tricks in his backseat. Of course, it’s more legitimate for him, what with the whole “to protect and serve” bit. We’re also at a gorram firing range so it’s none suspicious.
“Viczen?”
The Tear shimmers before us. There’s something like a feral glint in Connor’s eye as he selects his own weapon: a Heckler and Koch USP .45 Tactical pistol.
If I remember correctly, I think he calls that one “Jayne”.
We step through and the buzz gets wicked intense.
“What the hell?”
“I know. I’ll explain later.”
Okay. Now here’s where things get a bit wonky. The Tear takes us to the middle of the desert. What the hell can the Infected do all the ways out here? There’s no reason.
“They’re drawin’ us out,” Connor declares. “They’re ruttin’ drawin’ us out.”
I say nothing. He’s right, and I damn well know it. Fuck. Why would they do this? This isn’t run-of-the-mill. Not like I should be surprised, but this is happening way too quickly.
“Heads up, Wildcat,” Roland warns. “We’ve got a live one. Make that ones,” he amends quickly.
“In range?” Sometimes I wish I had the power to stop stupid things from coming out of my mouth. Connor just give me a look and I cut off his remark; “Of course not. Sorry.”
Roland woulda already picked them off by now if they were close.
We take off in their general direction. The buzz kinda feels like there’s about four of ‘em. That seems fair. A bit odd that their playing in numbers, but still.
We can handle it.
Especially now that we’s gots guns.
Roland’s eyes are shining. He targets one of ‘em. I almost feel sorry for it.
The Infected flees across the desert, and the man in black follows.
I still got my own pistol in my hand. I see another one. We don’t need to worry about tags. Thing of it is, if they ain’t playin’ by the rules, neither are we.
I may not like this weapon, but I’m a damn fair shot with it.
Wait.
Wait!
Something…something isn’t right about this.
They’re running.
They’re running from us.
Why?
They’re the ones that brought us here. They’re the ones that drew us out. Why would they run?
This isn’t right.
“Roland!”
I hear the gunshots. My vision narrows and I can see fire exploding from Jayne. The Infected goes down.
Okay. Maybe my spidey sense is broken.
This sweep goes much smoother than Boston, what with Jayne and my own pistol. Too freaking easy if you ask me.
“So what’s the what, Wildcat?” Connor asks after we’ve taken down the last of ‘em.
I shrug. “We got called back to duty.”
“This was stupid,” he says bluntly. He takes the discs and the solvent from me and goes to work.
I look at the bodies for a moment. I ain’t taken much notice to ‘em, not since that girl in the alley. I’m about to place one of the discs on this one when something catches my eye.
Something’s blinking.
Something…like an explosive…
“Viczen!”
****************************************************
Ahem.
First of all, suspension of disbelief, people. Second, don’t forget it’s crap! Third, for serious, I’ve had the first part of this written since the last post…I just didn’t know how to make it all work.
Disclaimers disclaimed as in Chapter 1.
“As You Were” - 6.15, Buffy the Vampire Slayer



“The Infected flees across the desert, and the man in black follows.” - ::LAUGH::
fantastic.
Glad to have joined the party. We don’t think it’s crap Jessi, so keep writing.
The Infected flees across the desert, and the man in black follows.
FUCKING AWESOME
Aw, man, Vicki alerady commented thusly. Oh well, it tickled me.
I like Mike’s character.
Dude, I love lint wars. Sorry I’m such a bitter gal, jess. But then, hell hath no fury…
Hope I’m nice to you soon, though!