Hunted The fear she drank from others was sweetly intoxicating, her own was sour and unappetising...
Richard had contacted her very early in the morning, the gentle trilling of the phone pulling her out of a complicated dream. The Zoo's proprietor was annoyed, extremely put-out in fact. The London facility had been compromised, he said, and he was abandoning the Zoo. He'd left his weak-willed cousin the task of destroying the evidence, and would she be so kind as to check that Felix had done as he was told before she made herself scarce? Jane liked Richard, his mind was neat and ordered. He was disciplined, his central goal of accumulating wealth was sufficiently obsessive it kept his psyche tidy, unlike others where the tattered threads of their minds flapped around unfettered – very distracting.
Jane pulled herself out of bed and was dressed and headed towards the industrial suburb within minutes. She felt nicely inconspicuous in her old, battered vehicle and not yet concerned. Felix was soft but he was well and truly cowed by his ruthless cousin, he wouldn't dare not do as instructed. And if he hadn't, if he was wavering, she could always nudge him in the right direction...The telepath felt her respiration kick up a notch and the beginnings of an unfamiliar numbing cold snake through her insides. Not only was the building that hid the Zoo still standing, it was crawling with outsiders. Talents, some of them, she could feel them from a block away, tingling along her awareness like incipient sunburn. Agency. Oh, Richard was not going to be happy. What had happened? Had Felix grown a backbone and sold them out? Had someone else tipped the Agency off before the keeper had had a chance to get rid of everything? Was Felix still in there? Jane frowned, extending her senses as subtly as she could. It was no use, she wasn't strong enough to scan that far, certainly not without tipping off the other 'paths present. She gasped, clamping her jaw shut on a sudden, frightening thought. They could trace her, theoretically, if the pets were still alive, if they had Felix, if the Agency had trackers of its own.
No!
Forcing herself to calmness, Jane drove sedately away from the scene. She had to get away but go where? She'd never made contingency plans, not like the super-organised Richard. Did she have time to return to her flat, gather some essentials? Probably not, the Agency could be on her trail right now! She didn't think Richard had been so lax as to record her home address or phone number anywhere but she couldn't be sure, she'd never bothered to check! Jane struggled for breath, fighting down an animal panic - assume the worse, assume they knew where she lived – it was time to run...Two of the Agency's most experienced tracker-talents had been assigned to the case. Will Grey and Charlotte – Charlie – Davis, stood either side of the ex-keeper, their hands resting lightly on the crown of his head. Razor was across the other side of the room but linked in to the trackers, remaining silent as the pair hunted through Felix's mind for an elusive scent.
*I think this is it,* Charlie grimaced, *Razor, could you confirm?*
The telepath zeroed in on the images associated with the foreign mental signature, cross-referencing with the images she'd lifted from Felix's surface thoughts when he'd been talking about 'Jane'.
*That's her. Can you get a fix?*
*Yes.* Will swallowed. *It's... distinctive.* He shuddered and his partner shot him a sympathetic look accompanied by a gentle mental *caress*. As well as being a tracker Will was an empath and what he was sensing from Felix's memories was downright frightening.
*The sooner we catch her the sooner she can be neutralised.* Razor was cool and emotionless, as always, as expected. *Let's start the hunt at the Zoo.*Charlie held Will's hand tightly as they prowled through the now empty-building. Even though there was no one there now to sense directly, the things he'd witnessed from Felix's viewpoint played on his mind, his imagination. It was as if could feel the pets' pain and fear seeping from the walls...
*Stay focused, Will.* Charlie's voice was low and firm.
The younger man nodded, shakily, grateful for his partner's grounding influence. Accompanied by Razor they made their way to the lower, hidden levels, to the pens and the surveillance room.
*Strong here.* Charlie scowled then relaxed, allowing her ability to surface, feeling the familiar, faint buzzing sensation as it locked onto the rancid odour. A glance at Will's face confirmed he'd done the same. Good, now they could begin.It was hard, slow, dogged work. The trackers needed to keep their awareness open, which was tiring enough, but they also needed to follow the trail on foot and that took time. By mid afternoon they'd found and followed a solid trail that led to and from Jane's flat. She wasn't there but the location was reported and another team was dispatched to secure the area. The trio returned to the Zoo after a short break and began casting about for a new lead. They found one, branching off from the main trail. It was fainter, but fresher. With Razor still accompanying them in silence the trackers began the laborious task of hunting down the rogue telepath.
Jane was not having a good time. Feeling panicky and with no clear idea of what to do or where to go she'd been running blind for most of the day, haunted - driven - by the idea she mustn't stop in one place for longer than a few minutes because that could leave a discernible trace. The feeling she was being hunted could've been simple paranoia but it was probably smarter to assume not. She couldn't keep running though, she was getting tired and jumpy, she needed to rest, needed somewhere safe to stop and gather her thoughts. She knew leaving England was her only option, maybe she could join Richard in Europe? There were people she could ring for help, not friends exactly, but acquaintances, associates, people who either owed her a favour or could see the advantages of having her in their debt. But until she had a chance to talk to her contacts she had to find somewhere to hide. Following some primitive instinct the telepath had made her way to London, to the heavily populated areas where she hoped the abundance of mental static from unshielded flat-scans could provide some camouflage.
It was close to midnight and the telepath was stumbling with exhaustion. She'd managed to arrange transport out of England, but she didn't need to be at the wharves for several hours. The thought of having to keep moving for that extra length of time brought her close to tears but there was no help for it, unless... Jane eyed the queue of gaudily attired people waiting to get into a nightclub. She could hear the heavy thump thump of the music from out here on the street and by lightly scanning a random patron inside she got the impression of a dark room, packed tight, colours and lights going off all over the place. Yes! She could hide there amongst the cattle and the disorienting sensory distractions.
Jane strode to the head of the queue, haughtily ignoring the growls of the other patrons she brushed past.
"Let me in."
The bouncer lifted an eyebrow but didn't move. Jane's eyes narrowed and she began to gather a needle of energy with which to convince him - then she bit her lip and dissipated it. She couldn't influence anyone, couldn't use her abilities at all, that'd be like raising a flag...
"Please?" she smiled winsomely at the bulky flatscan, who rolled his eyes.
"Get in line."
Jane slunk down to the end of the queue, face burning at the smirks and jeers directed her way. She fidgeted, praying it wouldn't take too long to get into the club: the longer she was in one place the more likely it was she'd be found. The line was moving steadily though and after a – subjectively - excruciatingly long interval Jane stepped through the embossed brass doors into sensory discord, and sanctuary.Will breathed deeply and evenly, eyes half-closed and face tilted upwards as he tried to catch the elusive scent. 'Jane' had led them on a complicated, tangled chase all day but they were drawing in on her at last, he could feel it. Charlie could feel it too and the trackers *shared* a brief burst of fierce excitement.
*Down here.* Will jogged into a side-road thronged with late-night party people, Razor and Charlie following closely behind. The trio of psis stopped in front of a building that fairly throbbed.
*She was here.* Charlie grimaced, wiping her palms on her thighs. Will set off a little way further along the crowded street, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
*No trace of her along here.* he *called* back to them. *I reckon she went into the club.*
Razor scowled: already she could feel the growing discomfort of being in close proximity to so many unshielded minds.
*Clever. Very clever.* Charlie nodded. *We won't be able to track her psionically in there.*
*Should we do a circuit of the building first?* Will asked, jogging back to join his companions. *See if she's snuck out another way?*
*If there were more of us I'd say yes,* Razor huffed; she wasn't a tactician, dammit, just give her a target and let her loose! *I say we go in.*
Charlie nodded again.
*Fair enough, but we'll call in some back-up first, station them around the site – just in case she tries to make a run for it.*A bare ten minutes later half a dozen undercover Agency agents were placed strategically around the area, all of them primed with an image of their target.
*Let's go.* Razor peremptorily tapped into the mind of the bouncer at the door, forcing him to let them through...The telepath winced. It was so loud in here! She had to keep her shields up too, the sheer number of individuals made it impossible to scan without becoming hopelessly mired.
"Stay close." She yelled at the trackers. "Keep your eyes open."
The group slowly began working their way area by area through the club.Jane drowsed uneasily, curled up on a hard chair in a dark corner of the nightclub, her head resting against the wall. The driving beat of the music vibrating through the building became a counterpoint to her dream – she was running through a forest, dodging between trees which were reaching down to ensnare her...
The telepath jerked awake, her heart pounding, more scared than she could ever remember being. She shook herself: no, it was just a dream. Jane peered at her watch and sighed. There were still a few hours to go before her rendezvous. Still, she felt a little better for the nap, but what she could really do with now was a hot, strong cup of tea - even a coffee would do at a pinch. She glanced over to the bar, wondering if this place served anything as innocuous as tea or coffee, then froze, swallowing a whimper. They were here.
Three of them, two with the lean, prowling look of trackers and the third a tall black-haired woman, another psi, probably a telepath though she was shut up tight behind her shields. Jane took a shallow, shaky breath. It wasn't a hopeless situation: they probably couldn't sense her, they'd be relying on visuals, so if she didn't draw attention to herself, kept out of sight, she could evade them. Of course, she couldn't sense them either, she'd also have to rely on her eyes but there was still a chance... Slowly, slowly, not looking directly at the hunters, Jane slid off the chair, twisting to slide in behind a tight knot of people nearby. She peeked at the trio through the bodies in front of her and held her breath as the woman's gaze swept over the area, sharp like a predator. Jane exhaled in relief – the woman wasn't looking her way anymore - so far so good, it looked like she might have got away with it. She relaxed fractionally... and then the group shielding her laughed raucously at something one of them said, and moved off leaving the telepath in full view...Despite her shields Razor's head was thumping and she couldn't wait to leave this hell hole. They couldn't though, not until they'd made absolutely sure the rogue telepath wasn't here. Razor hated not being able to scan, hated having to rely on her physical senses, and she was tired and hungry and on edge and she just wanted to get away from the noise.
A burst of laughter, loud enough to be heard over the din, grated in her ears. Aggravated, she scowled over at the group – and found herself looking directly into her target's wide, frightened eyes. Without thinking, Razor snapped out from behind her shields, spearing towards the telepath and into her mind before the other could react. She smirked.
*Got you.*
The smaller woman struggled against the barbed bonds tightening around her brain.
*Don't bother. I'm stronger than you.*
Razor effortlessly reached in to the woman's mind and rifled through her memories. What she saw made her stomach clench, and then, impulsively, she went in harder, deliberately searching for memories of...
Angel.
Terrorpaindespair, so sweet, so heady. The little cat fought for so long against her fate while she was being 'broken in' she had to be healed before she was delivered to her owner...
Razor snarled, ice-blue eyes blazing with revulsion. She thrust deep into the woman's mind, savouring her pain and blossoming fear before she twisted, viciously. Jane gurgled and slumped to the floor, mouth slack, her eyes turned up into her head.
Charlie dove forwards, pushing through the incurious crowd to get to the fallen woman. The tracker quickly checked her over, finding a pulse and respiration but not much else. She turned a furious gaze on the remote, icy 'path.
*What the hell have you done, Razor?*Razor stood at-ease, feet slightly apart, hands clasped lightly behind her back, gazing impassively over Wilma de Winter's shoulder to a blank spot on her office wall. The section head, though controlled, was curt and obviously infuriated. Standing quietly to one side was Greg Mahican, arms folded across his chest, dark eyes watchful.
"What happened?" de Winter demanded.
Razor didn't blink.
"I slipped."
"'Slipped'? You 'slipped'?!" her scornful disbelief was read easily on her face. "The woman's a vegetable, her brain is mush and you say you 'slipped'!"
"Sorry."
"Don't insult me!" Wilma fumed at the agent's arrant insincerity. "This wasn't an accident, Razor, and don't try and tell me it was!"
"You can still access her memories."
de Winter growled.
"And that makes what you've done, all right, does it?" she began pacing, "We can't use those memories legally, now, can we Anderson? For prosecution purposes memories have to be retrieved from a conscious subject."
The 'path shrugged.
"It's not like we won't be able to find a wealth of corroborating evidence in the minds of the other – "
'That's not the point!" de Winter slammed her palm down on her desk. "We can't use her memories, we can't prosecute her! And we now have the responsibility to keep her alive!"
"Pull the plug then," Razor exuded indifference, "She doesn't deserve to live."
De Winter stared, speechless, but Greg's eyes had narrowed.
"This is about Angel, isn't it?"
Razor shot him a look then slowly turned back to stare at the same spot on the wall, tightening her mental shields still further.
"Did you find memories of Angel, Razor?" *Was Angel one of the ones Jane watched?*
*Drop it, Mahican.* she didn't look at him.
"You leave me no choice, Anderson," Wilma flopped tiredly down into her chair. "You're suspended from duty pending an enquiry."
"Can I go now?" the agent's tone was just short of insolence.
"Yes." de Winter grated. "I'll keep you informed..."Razor quietly let herself into her softly-lit quarters to be greeted by Mitten's sleepy, enquiring trill. The boisterous grey kitten had grown into a hulking boy-cat who was still stupidly affectionate. He was curled up now on the couch, snuggled into the small of Angel's back. Razor smiled; the cat-girl was fully-dressed and fast asleep. It didn't matter that she kept telling her lover not to wait up for her, coming back and seeing Angel there – either awake or asleep – always made her feel like she was coming home.
Razor gently stroked the ex-pet's hair and Angel stirred under her hand. She stretched lazily and blinked up at the 'path.
"You're home."
"You noticed." Razor half-smiled.
"I'm clever like that." Angel grinned and pushed herself upright. "What time is it?"
"Very late. Well past your bedtime."
"Yes, mum." The cat-girl grasped Razor's extended hand, happily using the psi's strength to haul herself off the couch and into a tight hug. She frowned – Razor was so tense. "What's the matter?"
The 'path huffed out a sigh.
"I've been suspended."
Angel pulled back a little, searching her lover's face.
"Why?"
Razor hesitated. She had no remorse for her actions, none at all, but she couldn't be sure how Angel would take the news.
"I don't want to talk about it."
The cat-girl scowled, tail twitching, then she sighed.
"All right, I won't hassle you. Nor will I ask anyone else. Okay?" The brunette nodded and Angel reached up to cup her cheek. "But – when you're ready to talk about it...?"
*I will tell you everything.*
*Good.* Razor found herself pulled down into a heated, unsubtle kiss. *Let's go to bed.* Angel suddenly grinned, nipping at the 'path's lower lip. *If you've been suspended, that means you don't have to go in to work tomorrow, doesn't it?*
*Yes.* Razor blinked; that was obvious.
*Sal's been making noises about me using up my accrued time-off,* the cat-girl chuckled, green eyes shining with a wicked speculation, *I can stay home tomorrow and we can spend the day in bed...* she pressed a kiss to Razor's throat, *... or in the lounge room, or the kitchen, or the bathroom...*
A whole day with nothing to do but spend it with her lover? The 'path smiled into Angel's eyes, twining long fingers in silky brown hair.
*I would like that very much...*
© 2004 June 21st Lutra
Darkside
© 2004 WaveWrights