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Survivor Part 3 (3/8)
Kay Kelly (wilusa@EARTHLINK.NET)Wed, 4 Apr 2001 04:34:51 -0400
*** I wanted to cheer. There was no sign of Jacob, body or severed head. I guessed both had plummeted into the river. Duncan had been unconscious, but woke with a gasp as he sensed my Immortality. He opened his eyes and tried to focus. Clearly recognized me--and saw the cutlass in my hand. Before I could speak, he croaked, "I...won't beg...for my life. But...for *your* sake...I don't think you want...the Quickening I just took." I said quickly, "You're right, I don't. I didnšt come here to kill you. *Thank you*, Mr. MacLeod." But I wasn't sure he'd heard me. His eyes were closed again. *** All was well. I knew Duncan would recover; he'd been taking Quickenings and getting away after them for hundreds of years. And when he came to his senses, he couldn't be expected to have friendly feelings toward a member of Jacob's gang. So I tucked my unneeded sword into my belt and left by the route I'd come. I was already outside when I heard the sirens. Shit! *This* time they were coming quickly. Too late, I realized they were doing it--empty building or no-- because of the flak they'd taken for the night before. I told myself that if Duncan was unconscious, the sirens would rouse him. Maybe. A big maybe. He'd only taken one Quickening. But it occurred to me now that it might have a mega-effect, because it was the Quickening of a man who'd taken *fourteen* of them within the last ten days. There was no body, no proof he'd done anything... What about his sword? Forensic analysis could prove that sword had been used in the killing at the Phoenix Hotel. If the cops could make an arrest, they'd gladly reveal how the victim had died. He could chuck his sword in the river. Or I could run back and if he was unconscious, *I* could take it or hide it or chuck it in the river. Think Connor MacLeod at Madison Square Garden... Connor's fight had been nothing like this. Duncan was a mess. He undoubtedly had fresh blood on him that wasn't his own. And what of the blood that *was* his own? I'd even seen a hastily applied tourniquet on one of his legs. By the time the cops got to him, there wouldn't be any wounds! So much for the secret of Immortality. His Watcher. Joe Dawson was lurking somewhere. Let him rescue Duncan... Oh yeah, brilliant idea. How could an *unconscious* man be rescued by someone with two artificial legs? The thought of the Watchers made my blood curdle. If Duncan was picked up by the cops, even if he couldn't be held...if his name and picture were in the news... *other* Watchers would figure out that he'd had contact with Connor or Jacob. That he'd learned the holy ground secret, maybe even from a Quickening. And he'd be dead. *** But if I went back there trying to save him, and got caught, *I'd* be dead. There probably wasn't any crime that could be pinned on me. But if my picture made the news, the Watchers would be waiting when the police let me go. I wouldn't last a day. I wasn't a coward, never had been. But I wasn't the stuff heroes are made of, either. Just a survivor. I wanted to keep going, save myself, like I always had. I wanted to *survive!* But too many heroes had been setting too many good examples. I cursed Carlos. I cursed Duncan MacLeod. I ran back into the building.