Sanctuary

Darmetrius was brought back to Earth by the clapping of a bear claw of a hand slapping the table in a cocky manner that managed to annoy even Darmetrius. After barking orders, better yet growling them out, he left out.

Darmetrius looked at a man at another booth and asked him, "Who the hell was that?"

The man smiled and said, "Our protection."

Darmetrius scratched his eyebrow with his thumbnail before saying under his breath, "Some protection... he talks and leaves.

He had heard of the fort, but before today would never have had a chance to see it. This day seemed to be shaping up from the young man. He would do a little traveling and eat a steak. It had been so long since he had one, he forgot how it tasted. If Bridget had anything to say about it, that problem would be remedied soon.

 

"Please, Vishka."

Vishka shook his head ever so slightly. He spoke straight into Varenna's mind -- just like he used to do with Dre -- in case Zefie overheard. He knew how touchy humans got about dying.
I can heal the scar tissue, V, but if she's inhaled enough of it... You know she doesn't stand a chance.

Vishka put a large hand on Varenna's shoulder, trying to comfort her. She led him to Zefie.
"I can make you breathe better," Vishka said to her, touching her chest, unaware of the faux pau he was making.

 

Zefie looked up as Vishka and V approached, guessing from the look on her friend’s face that she had asked the Dragoon to help.

She started in surprise as Vishka reached out to place a hand on her chest, letting out a few garbled sounds of embarrassed annoyance. Across the counter Jay’s expression darkened and he looked like he was ready to tackle Vishka.

“Oi! Get yer slimy alien hands off her!”

“Wait,” Zefie held up a hand. She wasn’t good at reading Their expressions, but she thought Vishka looked confused. “He said … he could help …”

 

Vishka ignored Zefie's friends. He focused his mind, willing her damaged lungs to repair themselves. As he invoked his newfound powers to heal her, something strange happened. He wasn't in the Junkyard anymore. He was standing in a dark place. Ohdran stood in front of him. Vishka held his hands behind his back as a show of respect.
"Congratulations on becoming a Stalker, Ohdran." Vishka heard himself say in Their tongue. It was him, and yet it wasn't. He was looking out this one's eyes, but this one spoke and acted completely different to himself. It didn't feel like a memory.
"Yes... how does it feel to be outranked by someone you so hate, Dove?"
"You're my elder. I might not like you, Ohdran, but I am a professional. I will follow your orders."
"Any questions about your assignment?"
"Just one, Master Stalker. What if they do make it to the Junkyard?"
"That wont be a problem. We have indoctrinated several so-called 'Junkers'. If they manage to hole themselves up, we'll simply have our sleepers open the gates for us, right from the inside."
"Excellent. And what about the Fyr na Vishka?"
Ohdran gave him a strange expression. "If he becomes a problem, Dove, I will deal with it."

It was some sort of mental feedback loop. Like, tapping into a psychic television network.
"It is not safe here," Vishka said suddenly, tearing his hand -- which had caught on a clasp -- from Zefie's chest, nearly ripping off her top in the process. "We must leave immediately."

 

Jack had sat down with a large bowl of stew and ate ravenously, feeling like it had been an eternity since he had had any nutritional intake. This stuff was spiced well, and was good and thick with generous amounts of vegetables. An engineering masterpiece.

As he ate, he watched as V approached Vishka and asked for his help with Zefie. He moved to her, but then something changed in him as he touched her. He tore his hand away, and her shirt just about came with it.

"It is not safe here. We must leave immediately."

Jack stood.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold it a sec, Vishka. Why do we need to leave?"

 

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold it a sec, Vishka. Why do we need to leave?"

Vishka was antsy. Antsy? Nervous. The disc was important. He needed to protect it. He directed his thoughts into Jack, trying not to 'freak him out' too much.

Jack, man, we're in some serious capital s-h-i-t. They have got spies all over this Junkyard. Some of them bought out with promises of a better life, others flat-out brainwashed. We can't stay the night here; after we see this Roy-O guy we gotta vamos.

Vishka stood with his arms folded, trying to look 'casual'. He didn't like this feeling of being watched.

 

V's eyes had widened when Vishka spoke directly to her mind and then widened for different reasons when he nearly ripped Zefie's shirt from her body, saying that they had to leave.

"Why? Wait, here..." he never noticed as she unhooked the clasp from his gauntlet and helped Zefie get herself decently covered again.

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold it a sec, Vishka. Why do we need to leave?" It was Jack standing to his feet. Apparently Vishka had spoken to him, too.

"What's wrong?" V asked everyone. She had to hold up her hands to Jay and the others who obviously wanted to take Vishka apart for whatever he'd done to Zefie, "It's okay, guys...really, it's okay. Just an accident."

 

As he stood, Jack felt the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him. It was like he was thinking, but it wasn't his thought. It was Vishka's thought. How he knew that, he didn't know. Especially since the thought was so incredibly non-Vishka.

Jack, man, we're in some serious capital s-h-i-t. They have got spies all over this Junkyard. Some of them bought out with promises of a better life, others flat-out brainwashed. We can't stay the night here; after we see this Roy-O guy we gotta vamos.

Telepathy. Vishka could sense and send thoughts. An extremely disconcerting notion, but one that would probably be useful. Probably how he had gotten the slang down...and probably why he had used it to speak to Jack's mind in the first place. Jack realized with a start that he didn't even need to speak to him to respond. He'd know.

Okay. Soon as we meet with this guy, we're carrying on.

The two seemed to regard one another as they stood, and Jack cocked an eyebrow in mock-confusion to try and maintain some illusion for the onlookers. He then sat back down, shaking his head. He looked over at V gravely, as if to say we'll talk later.

"Finish up, ladies and gents. We've got a meeting to get to."

 

Everyone settled down and V sat again to eat. She caught Jack's glance and nodded. If Vishka had spoken to him, too, and suddenly he was agreeing to leave the news couldn't be good.

She turned her attention to Zefie and noticed that her friend was breathing easier. Though Vishka had been clear that it still might not be enough. It was impossible yet to know.

V ate quickly, trying not to worry.

In spite of her worry, she was curious. Without looking at Vishka she thought as loudly as she could, feeling a little foolish, "Vishka, can you hear me?"

 

Vishka sat, letting his mind open out, absorbing all the thoughts of those around him. He hoped he could discover the traitors before they could act, but all he got was a tangled web of confusion:
Man, that Zefie is so hot--Food, food, food, food--Vishka, can you hear me-It is sooo creepy--This is one sordid state of affairs--The things I would do to that body-- food, food, food, food-- What's it doing? Eating? Do they even eat?--Will we ever take our planet back--This is so good! I never wanna go hungry again!--What the hell is on this Disc?--In a couple of hours-- Aren't they like, allergic to water or something--They wont open manually--You never get food like this in the Wall--I wonder where Jessie went--The sentries will stop us--Her shirt's hanging by a thread, I could just walk over and--

Vishka couldn't take it anymore. He shut himself off from the stream of consciousness flowing around. It was useless and tiresome to listen to the every inane thought of these pathetic humans. Pathetic? Huh. Vishka needed some rest. He'd been awake too long.

 

With V’s help a very flustered Zefie managed to rearrange her ripped shirt. Her face was scarlet with embarrassment, and once Jay and Kez were dissuaded out of ripping Vishka apart she noticed them grinning playfully at her. She threw them a look, but with her red face it wasn’t as withering as it would normally have been.

Fortunately, Neena appeared behind them and casually cuffed them both round the head. “Lechs. Yo,” she added to the others, “You lot better eat up quick, like. Roy O en’t that patient, ya know.”

“Was that a Black Sun in ‘ere earlier?” Zefie asked, then realised with surprise that it didn’t hurt to talk any more. She was breathing much easier as well. She hoped Vishka knew how grateful she was.

“Oh yeh,” Neena snorted contemptuously. “They’re our guards now, en’t they? Shows offs, with all them tats.”

“Walkin’ ink scribbles,” Kez added as he ladled out large bowls of vegetable soup for the newcomers.

“Yer wish you was one of ‘em, don’t you?” Zefie guessed, grinning.

Neena scowled. “Well it en’t fair! They get ta hit whoever they want don’t get in no trouble for it! Me? I wack one of ‘em and get threatened wiv solitary fer hittin’ a superior! Superior arsehole is more like it,” she added in a grumble.

 

Darmetrius' steak arrived just in a nick of time. He rubbed his hands together, then held them there in prayer. After giving thanks for his meal, he sank his teeth into it. Only there was a slight problem. That wasn't a steak. He scowled a bit as he tried to chew the meat. Every bite was foreign to him. Was it deer? No, deer had more flavor than that. Was it rat?

"Oh hell naw," he said with a bigger scowl on his face.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Bridget asked.

"My steak aint steak..." he said swallowing a bite. He looked at Bridget with a look of betrayal. "What is this?!"

Bridget smiled at the young man's disapproval.

"Honey, that's snake. Did you think you'd REALLY be able to get a steak from here?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Snake?! Did this snake eat a rat before you caught it?!" he said brushing the flavor off his tongue with a napkin.

Bridget laughed at Darmetrius and decided to have a little more fun with him.

"My apologies, your majesty," she said with a mock bow. "It won't happen again."

Darmetrius gave her the evil eye and poured the whole bottle of steak sauce on his snake steak.

"Funny," he muttered under his breath.

 

The group eventually finished their various meals of "snake steak" and seasoned soup before collectively making their way to the Fort where Roy O was said to have been in waiting for them. Few if any of the group had ever even met Roy O, but it was likely that all had heard of him. He was a living legend to the streeters, having helped many of them when they were at their worst.

Vishka eyed each of the fearsome Black Sun Raiders warily, constantly wondering which among them might be a traitor. The Raiders seemed to eye Vishka with equal suspicion as he passed. They seemed reluctant to let one of their enemies so near to Roy O, whom they all loved dearly.

"You the new group eh? Roy O's been waitin'," said one of them as he hefted the large steel plate that served as a door aside with relative ease. "Try not to make 'im wait any longer than you 'ave already."

The group was ushered into a dark room where and aged man rested on a bed. He appeared to have sleeping, but movement upon their arrival revealed that he was wide awake. He looked sick. Very sick. On the verge of death one might say. Despite all this, he resonated a kind of rough strength, much like a father. All would feel at ease in his presence.

Roy O stared down at the group from his high bed in silence, sizing each one of them up with his piercing gaze. He looked at a few of them with recognition, a few with a welcoming smile, and one with utter confusion. After a time of silent looking, Roy O cleared his throat.

"None o' ye 'ave seen a fiery haired lad 'ave ye?"

 

Meeting Roy O was an honor. The man was a myth in Sanctuary. Maybe even a savior. To see him warmly welcome the group presented before him touched Darmetrius. He listened carefully as the icon spoke.

"None o' ye 'ave seen a fiery haired lad 'ave ye?"

"Fiery haired lad?" Darmetrius asked.

He thought for a second about who the hell he might have been talking about. Then he thought of the man he briefly knew as Dre.

"Sorry to say this, buddy, but he's no longer with us." he said, bowing his head down for a moment.

 

V had heard of Roy O through Zefie but had never met the old man. When he asked after a firey-haired lad she, like Darmetrius, thought it might be Dre the old man was referring to.

Tears threatened to well up and she blinked them back, going to the old man's side. It's not like Roy O had anything, not even his heath, and now this. She sat down and covered one of his thin hands with her own.

"There was a red-headed boy with us named Dre," she said quietly, "he died valiently fighting the They. His sacrifice allowed us to escape."

 

Joshua was uncomfortable. The soup had been warm and welcome, the people had been kind, at least, untill the point they had seen Vishka, and this new Wall seemed to be save and solid, no matter what Jack and Vishka where grunting. He had never heard of They making deals with humans.

And although he was fed, save and what not, he still felt uncofortable. The Black Sun had a reputation and in fact, they were one of the reasons Joshua had avoided the Junkyard alltogether. And here he was, surrounded by bulky man, carrying a gun case in which there were two folders, each containing all the data you needed to acces two Military banking accounts. He silently cursed his luck.

The Black Sun was known to kill for less.

 

As Darmetrius had his head bowed, the lady known as V said what he said, but gave the living legend something better to go on. He wished he had said it that way, but it was in the past now. Besides, the brave guy was given his due, which was the important thing.

Nearby, Josh was looking quite disturbed. Darmetrius hadn't taken him for a fearful man, but maybe being in the presence of gangstas made the fella nervous. He smirked at Josh's fidgety state, wondering if that would happen down the line if They ever caught up. And with the operation that's been assembled thus far, it's a strong possibly they would meet They sooner or later. One thing he agreed with Josh on was hoping it was later than sooner.

 

"There was a red-headed boy with us named Dre," said a lady he knew to be called V quietly, "he died valiantly fighting the They. His sacrifice allowed us to escape."

Roy O blinked a couple of times a took a deep breath. "I told 'im. Told that boy 'e was lookin' fer death if 'e didn't learn when ta run away." He shook his head and was silent for a moment before he threw back the covers on the bed and stood. For a moment he was wobbly and kept a hand on the bed, but he was able to regain his balance after a moment.

"We've had many survivors come through here. Tell me how you came about this place. What's it like outside?"

 

Jack took a step forward as the old man asked how they had made it this far. He grabbed a chair from the wall and sat near the bedside.

"It was hell out there, sir." He spoke slowly and clearly. "They knocked out primary power, shut down the perimeter defenses, and breached the Wall in the space of an hour. We held them off until we got the order to flee back into the command center. From there, we got out into the Rows, holed up in an apartment. We were attacked twice. We began with a dozen..." He looked at the group gathered around.

"These are all we have left." He purposely left out any mention of either General Douglass or the Magnus Disc, remembering Vishka's warning of spies. He didn't think Roy O to be one, but even if he wasn't, it was best he didn't know. At least for now.

 

Roy O nodded and was silent for a moment, crossing his arms behind his back as the man spoke. He looked the young man over once more and guessed him to be the leader of this particular group. Roy O cleared his throat before speaking.

"Did anyone ever tell you mah story lad? No...I dan't suspect they did. I was there whan They first came. I kin remember watchin' as the buildings fell. I remember the outside laddie. Point is, I know better than most. I know when someone isn't tellin' me summat."

 

The old man was a sly one. And he had read right through him the same way Jack could read right through a thousand lines of code without flinching. Jack looked about at the group, and made sure they were alone with the man. His instincts told him the old man could be trusted; and so did all the logic he could conjure up. There were no guards present in the room, but the door was still open.

"Darmetrius, would you shut the door for us, please?" The big man got up and did as Jack told him. Jack then reached into his front jacket pocket and pulled out the Disc.

"On our way out of the Command Center, we met a General Douglass. He gave me this, and told us of a secret path that would lead to a group of hangars. The Disc has to make it down there if humanity is to survive."

 

After closing the door, Jack presented Roy O. with a disc. Darmetrius pieced together what the Dragoon had told him earlier and figured out what was going on. What was the importance of that disc? A man died for it and a few other humans were injured in the process of bringing it to the living legend. After Jack mentioned it was needed to survive, Darmetrius eyes lit up momentarily taking a gander at the software that made him and all the others targets.

 

It was here. The Disc was here. The Magnus Disc. It wasn't safe, not enough for the only thing that had the slightest chance of saving the remainder of mankind. Roy O nearly fell to the floor with the shock.

"Ye canna stay here any longer lad. 'Tis not safe enough for the likes o that disc. Ye must go, and quick."

Roy O hobbled over to the back wall and struggled to undue a barely noticeable latch. "Will ye' help me with this lad?"

A knock came at the front door followed by a deep voice. "Roy O? Are you all right sir?"

 

Jack was glad that the old man apparently had the same idea Vishka was concerned about. Yet another who acknowledged that even this place wasn't safe from prying eyes and hands.

Jack rose as the old man rose, replacing the Disc in his pocket and moving to where he gestured. There was a knock at the door, and Derek motioned for the others to keep silent so whoever it was would hear Roy's response only.

The old man was fumbling with a tiny latch on the wall. Derek reached over and opened it up.

 

A tremendous pressure settled over the whole of the Junkyard. Only some would be sensitive to it, most not even noticing it at all. Yet, there was a pressure nonetheless. A grim silence settled over the junkyard first. Everything felt as though it were muffled and sluggish. Those who did not immediately recognize it or were not sensitive to it would only notice a slight raising of the hair on their necks, or a slight case of goosebumps. For those who were sensitive to the subtle psychic energies however, it was the difference between a pen drop and an earthquake.

One by one, the occupants of the new wall flipped the switches that made the automated doors slide open one by one. The wall opened itself up to the gathering mass of Them that had gathered just beyond the junkyard. There was no noise, only the sound of Them as they marched passed the silent guards and into the Junkyard. Some of those who had been at the wall broke down and cried as They passed, only just then realizing the severity of the mistake they had just made. They had become like Judas.

The Dragoons marches quietly as certain groups of humans began to realize what had just happened. Gunfire soon overtook the sound of marching, but no one had been prepared. Soon, it was not only Dragoons that were firing on the Streeters, it was other Humans. Larger Threshers were spotted through the mass of Dragoons, slaughtering men, women, and children all with a cold indifference.

Those of the gangs who had not sold themselves out to Them took up immediate defense of the primary structures. Black Sun Raiders huddled around the Fort, doing whatever they could to defend the residence of their leader.