It's All In Your Head: Part Twelve
by sevenall
When Elizabeth woke up, she was lying in the back-seat of a car. She couldn't actually see it, since she had been most expertly blindfolded, but she heard the engine and felt the movements. An expensive car, she guessed, it ran so smoothly and probably one with tinted windows, or a blindfolded, handcuffed passenger might have attracted attention. She moved her hands gingerly. Whoever had done this knew his work, she couldn't slip out of them. Her feet were tied together with something soft, Velcro perhaps. She let her hands wander over the leather upholstery to find something, a paper clip, a piece of wire. Then she felt the stirring in her head, and heard the cold, dispassionate voice of Kwannon.
"Stop that", it said. "You can't get out of the cuffs and if you did, you still couldn't get out of the car. Smash the windows? Bleed to death from a severed artery? You used to be a smart girl.Think. How many in the front seat? Two or three? Maybe a whole convoy of cars. That's bad. Now, think about the good stuff. So far, they have been careful not to damage you. They could have slapped you around, gang-banged you for some fun and yet they didn't. They have their orders to bring you in, in one piece. Probably you will be either bait, hostage or source of information to them, but don't worry about it at the moment. They can't hold you at gunpoint forever, you'll have a chance to escape sooner or later. Now think about Victoria for a minute. You think you hate her. That's alright. Define your feelings, then look past them. What are the facts about her? She loved her daughter. She was a sadly misguided person. But that doesn't explain why they wanted to bring her in with you".
Kwannon the assassin, fast and focused. Elizabeth felt a wave of self-loathing. So now she needed Kwannon to think for her.
"Keep analyzing", Kwannon advised her.
"What do you want from me, Kwannon?" Elizabeth demanded.
"As you pointed out earlier, yours is the only body I can access. I do have reasons for keeping that body alive. So, I am about to suggest a deal to you. I am presently feeding off of that thing in your head. I'll help you beat it, if you'll create another body for me. A clone, to be precise. I would not want to inhabit your child. That would dilute the genetic matrix and insert foreign material. I also ask that you do this in cooperation with Matsuo Tsurabaya. I want to be with my lover again. If you won't take the deal, I'll destroy you slowly and enjoy every second of it".
"No!" Elizabeth instinctively rejected the thought..
"You will wish to reconsider. In the meantime, reach out with your left hand".
Elizabeth did so and felt something hard and bottleshaped.
"How did you see...?"
"Dear Elizabeth, I have learnt to use your body and mind in ways you cannot imagine. I don't need your eyes to see. This is my parting gift, for now".
After an initial shuffle, Elizabeth had managed to position the bottle end against the screen separating the back seat from the front. The bottle mouth rested firmly against her cheekbone. It was awkward, but it was the best she could do with her hands tied. At first she could hear nothing but car sounds. She closed her eyes and imagined the soundwaves resonating through her skull, growing stronger through positive interference. She imagined being blind again, picking out voices she knew from a background of white noise.
"Where are we going? What..."
That was Victoria alright, on the verge of hysteria. A smack, as if someone had slapped her. Elizabeth couldn't figure out whether it was a calm-down slap or a shut-up slap, but according to the sound of it, it was a lot harder than she wanted anyone to be hit and despite the futility of it, she struggled with the cuffs again.
"Shut up".
A man's voice, and one which sent chills down Elizabeth's spine, by the utter deadness in it. This man cared not if he lived or died and even less if someone else did.
"I don't know anything about her, I swear!"
Elizabeth was very close herself to tell Victoria to shut up and not draw any further attention. Had the woman no sense at all?
"You failed to inform us, my dear".
Another man, older and sharper, Elizabeth reckoned. There was a silk quality to his voice. He'd probably be the interrogator if she made it that far.
"You were taken off the list of informants by my request. I considered you unreliable after the incident with your bastard child.
What incident? Did he refer to the treatment the FoH had given Lisa?
"Ever since the mutie moved in at the hospice, I have personally supervised your actions. All it had taken to turn her in was a call. You failed".
For the first time there was steel in the silk.
"You believed her silly story as she believed yours. Or have you betrayed more than your ideals this day? It doesn't matter. You won't get another opportunity".
"Please... She was...nice to me and I was all alone"
Victoria choked out the words between heavy sobs. Elizabeth couldn't help feeling a rush of sympathy, in spite of everything that had happened. Victoria confessing a fondness for one of the hated "mutie freaks", in a situation as desperate as this, was a show of courage and utter foolishness.
"I said it doesn't matter. Danny".
There was a finality to the words and then the unmistakable sound of a trigger being cocked. Elizabeth let the bottle fall to the floor, then banged her already aching head against the screen, once, twice. She let out a yelp before she could help it, then decided it was a good idea and kept it up. The car skidded to a halt and someone tore the door open, swearing. She could feel the draft of cool air.
"What's with her?"
The dead one did seem a little concerned now.
"Some kind of spell, I think".
Elizabeth let her eyes roll back and drooled. When the blindfold was removed, she allowed herself a fast glimpse of the men, then tensed and convulsed with a throaty cry.
"Damn! Sit on her, Danny, she'll hurt herself".
"But..."
And wasn't that little exchange very interesting? But she didn't have much time to reflect on it before Danny spread himself on her to keep her down. Elizabeth could feel at least three hard bulges on him that was guns and she prayed that he'd put the safety on. He was well muscled. Mercenary? The other one was taller, thinner and very intimidating, like a vulture. A bit of cloth was pressed into her mouth. How considerate they were. She heard another car pull over.
"Sir? Are you alright, sir?" A young voice, a little out of breath.
"Quite. We had a little problem. See to it".
For some reason Elizabeth felt certain that he didn't mean her, but Victoria. And now, blind and helpless under Danny's weight, she heard steel whisper against steel, a half-muffled whimper, footsteps on gravel and a soft thump.
When something that is alive, ceases to live, any telepath worth the name can feel it. There's a ripple in the astral plane when something is taken out of circulation. A lapse of time. If the death is violent and unexpected, the disturbance is larger. A skilled telepath can walk along with the dying, keep them company on the darkest road for a while and help them go in peace. Elizabeth had believed that she was no longer a telepath, yet she could feel Victoria ceasing to be, and she didn't know whether to thank or curse Kwannon for accessing those abilities.
A picture rose in her mind, that of herself at sixteen, kneeling in a meadow with a dying puppy in her lap. Brian was leaning against a tree and throwing up. The car with which he had run over the little dog was parked a few meters away. It was early morning, but still dark, the grass was wet with dew and the puppy's blood stained her skirt. It breathed only the faintest of breaths now, the stubby tail trying to wave and Elizabeth went into its mind, to take it for the last walk. The scenery swirled and shifted, green valleys, pebble beaches with parasols, and all the things the puppy might have seen if it had not run out on the road. The bones it would have carried, the pats on the head it would have received, all that happiness that comes from barking and running and fetching things for a beloved human.At last she could follow no longer. The ground was not solid enough for a living mind and she released the imaginary leash, received the happy lick and saw dimly a grown dog run away through mists of what could have been.
Once again, she was brought to the meadow, only now there was Victoria lying there in her lap. The sky was black with storm clouds. Lightning struck a nearby tree that erupted into flames. No rain fell. The ground was cracked and bare.
"I'm scared", Victoria moaned. "I don't want to die".
Her eyes were wild and unseeing. Elizabeth knew then, that Kwannon had more of a heart than she ever had credited her for. In this scene was the key to unlock her resentments towards both Brian and Victoria. She understood that she had never stopped blaming Brian for running over the puppy. The little dog had been the core of all the hate she had felt towards him for all these years, for being an alcoholic. She had never fully accepted his alcoholism as a disease. She had gone to the AA-meetings with him, but she had never once stopped thinking of herself as superior to him. She had approached Victoria with the superiority of beauty, money and intelligence and judged her from her own privilieged position, expected her to live up to certain standards and principles.
"Don't be afraid", Elizabeth said, surprised by the gentleness in her own voice. "I'll help you find the way and walk with you for a while". And took the steps onto the ground that was not solid, the grass that was not grass.