The Search
by Nic (stardestiny@bigfoot.com)
25 November 1999
Disclaimer: The characters and situations contained within are the
property of Universal/Amblin Entertainment. No copyright
infringement is intended.
Warning: Dark with some strong language.
THE SEARCH
----------
He knew he would never forget that afternoon. Never. It haunted
him beyond comprehension, beyond belief, and he would never let go.
Nothing would heal the pain he now felt, but it didn't mean there
was nothing he could do. Oh, there was something he could do all
right, something he was doing right now. He pushed through the
bushes cautiously, his movements deceptively calm when compared
with the anger and despair in his heart.
His senses were on fire, driven by a lust for darkness. Never
before had he considered himself capable of deliberately murdering
someone, but he had been driven to the edge, or more correctly,
over that edge. The one thing that made his life good had been
taken away and now he was burning for revenge.
Another cautious step, and he held his breath, knowing that his
breathing could give him away. It was dark beyond comprehension,
both moons hidden behind a sea of clouds and with no population on
G889, there was no comforting glow of lights to illuminate the
natural shroud above.
It was black, pitch black, save for the fire at Eden Advance's
forlorn campsite some miles away. He'd left them without looking
back and they'd let him go, knowing that nothing they said or did
would change his mind. He was prepared to walk all night, and the
next, and for weeks and months after that, as long as it took him.
He would hunt down and kill that bastard Reilly if it was the last
thing he ever did.
Sure that the ship was in the immediate vicinity, he paused,
listening. His ears detected no more than the typical calls of the
night wildlife, the wind rustling in the trees, and his own muted
breaths. Knowing that it was safe to continue searching, he pushed
around another tree, praying that his calculations weren't off or
that Reilly hadn't already left.
And where would Reilly go, he wondered. Surely his actions
couldn't be condoned by the Council. It was true that the Council
had its own agenda and it was true that it had quite possibly tried
to kill them, but he did not believe that the Council would condone
Reilly's atrocious actions, surely not. It was the only hope he
had to cling to, he *had* to believe that at least some goodness
existed in the universe or he might as well plunge the blade he
carried into his own heart.
The thought was oddly comforting, of ending it all, of letting go
and succumbing. But it would leave the others behind, those who
had survived, and part of him was bound to help them once the
present matter was dealt with.
As the memory flooded over him again he stumbled, the emotional
pain causing a physical response and he was glad of the physical
expression because it hurt so *damn* much and the whole universe
would be crying if he had control over such things. How could one
event mean so much, and so little at the same time? He knew that
even as he was hurting, there were a billion other people who
didn't know and didn't care. Yet life had reduced down to *one*
event for him.
An event he would never let go.
There was a noise to the left, a muted cough and then a curse. Of
course Reilly wouldn't expect them to be after him so soon. If
things had gone to plan, they would never come after him, but
Reilly hadn't realised just how strong-
-he cut off the thought, knowing he could not succumb to the
blinding rage/despair when his quarry was so close. He pulled the
knife from his belt. A magpro would have been easier, an injection
more elegant, but he wanted to see the fear in Reilly's eyes. He
wanted revenge.
Closer he crept, and closer, almost crawling through the
undergrowth now, until he could see a light situated in what seemed
a clearing invaded by a large shape. The ship. And near the
hatch, Reilly, who suddenly kicked it and cursed again.
It was time. He emerged from the trees with a smile on his face,
a vacant smile he supposed, because he knew that laughter was
forever erased from his life. A maniacal killer, out for revenge,
bitter and twisted, and he wasn't the least bit horrified of what
he had become.
There was no way Reilly should have seen him, no way at all, but
suddenly the Council member stared into the darkness and flinched.
He stepped forward, the knife held high, and the absolute terror in
Reilly's face was almost the reward he needed. He took another
step and Reilly panicked and ran, not up into the ship as would be
sensible, but 180 degrees away from his stalker.
Almost laughing, he began the pursuit easily, knowing that eleven
months on this planet had done far more for his physical fitness
than any exercise program would have accomplished. It would be an
easy chase.
And it was. He didn't notice the leaves slapping his face, or the
foliage underfoot which made them both stumble time and time again.
His whole being was focussed on Reilly, the coward who had *done*
this with no thought, no compassion, the man who had been so
content to destroy lives.
No longer. He pounced, making an easy tackle and then Reilly was
pinned beneath him, and flipped over. He trapped Reilly's arms
above the head and knelt on Reilly's chest, his own weight ensuring
that the Citizen was well and truly incapacitated.
And as always, Reilly had the gall to try and talk himself out of
the situation. "I suggest that you release me or there will be
very dire consequences. The Council-"
With his free hand, he slapped Reilly's cheek and leaned close to
hiss, "I don't care about the Council."
"You have no right to hold me!" Reilly protested, his eyes darting
from side to side, searching for an invisible saviour. "I have
done nothing wrong! I came to this planet to negotiate with
*you*," and even now, the word was expelled with disgust, "and not
only is the rendezvous not attended but then you attack me!"
"Liar," he spat.
"I think not," Reilly countered, his voice trembling despite the
confident words. "You have attacked me without provocation after
I wasted a significant amount of time waiting for your emissary
when I could have been taking new samples! Do you know how much it
costs to take this ship planet side? Not to mention that the ship
is dangerously low on energy and will only just make it until the
supply ship arrives...."
"Shut up!" he burst out, delivering another slap. "I'm not here to
listen to any more of your lies. I'm here to deliver justice."
Reilly's eyes grew even wider. "Justice? Then where is the trial,
the courts, the judge? I demand evidence!"
"I have all the evidence I ever need." He paused, taking in a deep
breath as another wave of grief coursed over him. "You never loved
anyone, did you, Reilly?" he hissed.
Impossibly, Reilly's face softened. "Was there an accident?" His
words were calm, beguiling. "Did your woman-"
"She wasn't 'my woman', she was the love of my life, and you killed
her." He brought the knife to Reilly's chest, positioning it over
the heart. "You killed her." The words were softer, faraway.
"You thought we'd never find her but she was stronger than that.
She was strong for me...." His voice broke on the last word and he
pushed down with the knife, driving it through the clothing and
causing the flesh to bleed. Reilly gasped.
"Please don't do this," he begged. "It wasn't me, I swear I didn't
kill her!"
"She staggered into camp," he was distant, reliving that horrible
memory, "and I caught her. We didn't believe that you would kill
her outright, I can't believe we were all so *stupid*! No promise
of peace is worth sending a person alone, not even when you
promised that there would be no weapons."
"I had no weapon," Reilly said, shuddering as the knife was pushed
a little deeper.
"You did," he replied evenly. "I don't know what you injected her
with, but she died in my arms. Do you hear me, Reilly?" He was
shouting now, tears in his eyes. "The one person I ever loved died
and *you* killed her!"
"I-" and it was the last word Reilly ever spoke as the blade was
pushed down with anguished ferocity as its owner took his revenge.
When it was over, he got up and walked away, leaving the knife, the
body, the betrayal, but the pain was still with him. He wandered
through the forest for hours until the first streams of daylight
appeared. He came to a stream and watched almost with disinterest
at the red tendrils which were sucked away from his fingers by the
rushing water. The blood on his hands gone so easily. If only....
And he knew there was no sense in wishing "if onlys" even as the
possibilities turned around in his head. The crime he had
committed seemed a lifetime away, almost belonging to a different
person, because the person he was now was a person who had nothing
in his life but grief. Endless, maddening grief, and he did not
know how he could go on without her.
Dawn wore on and finally, he got to his feet and walked back to
camp.
---
End.
Note: Inspired by episodes of "Beauty and the Beast".
I would adore hearing what you thought of this. Let me know
at destiny@wwdg.com
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