Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 00:35:42 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: "(Nancy Cleveland)" Subject: Aloha Part 6 (of 7) < He's the very image of Aki. > The same delicate features, transformed from woman to boy. The same turn of cheek, curve of lip. < Is this boy my son? > "Hello Jari. Hikari. Come in". Jonathan skinned his lips back in what he hoped looked more like a welcoming smile than a snarl. He levered himself to his feet, using the ancient katana like a cane. The slash across his chest was stiffening, and he grimaced involuntarily as he stood, hunching over a bit. < Stand up straight to meet your son, damnit. > He stepped away from the body, holding his open hand out towards the boys. They stepped back, bumping into each other as he approached. "It's ok, I don't bite." He followed them into the kitchen, slowly. "I'm Jonathan." The boys continued to back away. < Time to shoot the moon. One chance, or he'll run. And I can't catch anybody, not tonight. > "I might be your father, Hikari." < That got his attention > "Please, stay. Talk to me." Jari and Hikari exchanged glances. "What about the..." Jari hesitated, swallowed. "The body. Was that the guy we met at the auction? Why did you kill him?" "Yes, he's the man we met. He worked for some people who wanted to kill me. They hired him to come here and do it. We fought. He lost." Jonathan spoke slowly, deliberately, trying to keep his words from slurring together. < God, I'm exhausted. Or is it blood loss?> The warm flow had slowed, but not stopped. Jonathan glanced back at the trail of red he'd left on his way to the kitchen. Too much. He leaned on the door frame, letting it hold some of his weight. "Are you into drugs, mister?" Hikari's voice was soft, a lilting trace of his Japanese heritage evident in his accent. < He sounds just like Aki. I can't believe this, it can't be so easy. > Jonathan stepped towards a chair, pulled it around and sat, facing the two boys. < Better. > "No, I'm not into drugs. This was something else. An old score. Revenge.The people he worked for killed my parents." < Say it, I'm sure of it..> "Your grandparents, Hikari" The boys stopped backing away, looked at one another, and moved closer to Jonathan. "How do you know I'm your son? I've never met you, never seen you before." Hikari's voice rose, angrily. "If you're my father, where have you been?" Jonathan gestured, curling his fingers, inviting Hikari closer. The boy approached, his nostrils flaring at the smell of blood and reek of death that bathed Jonathan. < Get used to it, son. > "Aki. Hikari. Let me see your back, please. Raise your shirt for me." Cautiously, the boy turned and lifted his torn and tattered t-shirt. Jonathan closed his eyes for a second, wild hope and wild despair clashing. < I'm so sure. Am I wrong?> He looked, holding his breath. On Hikari's back, lower left, five small moles made a star. < It's him. > Jonathan let his breath out, and started living again. "Thank you, Hikari.You can put your shirt down." The boy turned, curiosity in his eyes. " You are my son.Tell me, do you remember your mother?" Hikari shook his head, watched Jonathan silently, his arms folded across his chest. "I'll tell you about her. She was beautiful, and good. We were separated, before I even knew she was pregnant. She never told me. I only found out later, after she was dead, that I had a son." Jonathan paused, willing the boy to believe him. To believe in him. "I've been looking for you, ever since." "It took you 14 years to find me? You must not be a very good at finding things." Hikari turned his back, his neck held stiffly. "I had some business to attend to, first. I had to settle the score, with the people who killed my parents. Nothing else mattered to me, then." Jonathan searched for understanding, interest, any response at all, from the boy. Hikari still looked away, not moving. < Well he's still here. Still listening. Its a start. What did you expect, that he'd throw himself into your arms, sobbing "Papa, Papa?" > "Can you understand that? I didn't even know you existed. When I found out, it would have been more dangerous for me to come look for you, than to leave you alone, in obscurity and safety." "What do you know about my life?" Hikari turned at last, his face contorted with emotion. He started to speak, then stopped and walked to the counter, his fists clenched, knuckles white with rage. "Nothing, Hikari. I know nothing about your life. Please, tell me about it." Jonathan waited. Silence, silence and rage. "You look pretty bad, Jonathan. Can I get you something? Call a doctor?" Jari moved towards him, his face anxious. < He wants to be noticed. Thanked. I've ignored him. > "Thank you, Jari. Thank you for everything." The boy smiled. "I don't need a doctor right now, but you could get me some towels, from that drawer." Jonathan indicated the counter with his chin. "Second from the top." Jari moved to the counter top and opened the top drawer. He gasped, and started to close it. Hikari stopped him, and shouldered him aside. He reached in and pulled out 'Ski's gun, then turned and pointed it at Jonathan. Jari watched, amazed. Jonathan stood, slowly. < Damn, it hurts to move. How could I forget about Ski's gun?> The boy held the gun on him, his face twisted with anger. "Don't move, father." The words were bitter, sarcastic. "Hikari, put the gun down. We can work this out. Just talk to me. Tell me what's the problem." Jonathan spoke calmly, edging around the table towards the boy as he spoke. "There is no problem. I'm doing what I came to do. What I've planned and trained to do, for years." Hikari smiled, now. Triumph flashed in his eyes. "What do you mean?" Jonathan kept moving, slowly, closer. Just a few more feet. < I could probably take him now. But I don't want to hurt him. > "What do I mean? Haven't you figured it out? Who do you think looked after me?" The boy was mocking him, laughing. "Who do you think kept me alive? Off the streets? After my guardian died, the Black Dragons found me, living on the streets. They took me in. They trained me, raised me, gave me a home, and a family. " Jonathan kept moving, instinct carrying him forward,while his mind reeled in disbelief. < This isn't possible. > "I'm a full member of the clan. You are my first assignment." Jari raised the gun, holding it steady with both hands, sighting along its barrel. "They told me to wait, to earn your trust and kill you in your sleep, but this is better. Faster." His finger whitened on the trigger. "No!" Jari screamed and flung himself at Hikari, clawing at the gun in the other boy's hands. Jonathan flowed into motion, lashing out with the katana, striking the gun from Hikari's hands just as the boy pulled the trigger. The slash across his chest hampered his movements, threw off the precision of his strike. The shot went wild. Jari grunted and staggered back, blood spurting from his chest. The gun fell to the floor. Hikari turned toward Jonathan, rage twisting his face. "You made me shoot him. I hate you." The boy clenched his fists, staring at Jari's chest and the pulsing blood. "Freeze." Yomo's voice cut through the room like a knife. Jari moaned, his breath ragged. Jonathan dropped his katana and knelt by the boy's side, holding shut the huge wound, trying to stop the bleeding with the pressure of his hands while Jari's blood bubbled and seeped around his fingers and onto the floor. The .44 lay half hidden under the table, its barrel twisted from the impact of the katana. Hikari stood, empty handed, in the center of the room, his fist clenching and unclenching, his lips moving in a silent prayer. The katana lay near his feet, the blade still intact. < Jari, what have I done to you? You tried to save me, to stop him. You should have been my son. > Jari mumbled incoherently, his eyes passing over Jonathan's face without recognition. "I'm here, boy, I'm with you." Jonathan pressed the boy's chest, listening to the liquid rattle in his lungs as Jari struggled for breath. < I was blind. Too obsessed with the ties of blood to see you for who you were. Don't die. I've only just met you. > Jari grasped Jonathan's arm, his eyes clear and focused, his strength surprising. "I didn't know...I'm sorry...." His words disappeared in coughing. "It's all right, Jari. Don't try to talk. I understand." The boy nodded, incrementally, and closed his eyes. His hand slipped from Jonathan's arm. Jonathan looked over his shoulder. "Yomo, call an ambulance, please." Desperation cracked his voice, as he felt Jari's breathing slow, then stop. Jonathan lifted his hands away, closed his eyes in grief. The boy was dead. < My fault. All my fault. > Yomo stepped fully into the room, holding a semiautomatic pistol. She pointed it at Jonathan. "No one is coming, Raven. Not until our business here is finished. You will pay for murdering my father, and my brother. You will die. Pick up the katana and give it to me, Hikari." She spoke sharply, used to giving orders and being obeyed. < So she isn't just a messenger, after all. > Jonathan struggled to care, to think, to plan. < What's the point? My quest is over. I've found my son. He's a killer, just like me. > Hikari handed her the katana. Yomo held it in one hand, considering. "Take the gun. Finish what you started, now." She handed the gun to the boy. Jonathan surged to his feet, instinct alone driving him, reaching across the room towards the pistol. He felt Jari's arm roll under his foot, his balance thrown off as his other foot slid in the slippery pool of blood. < I can't reach him. I can't stop him. My son. My executioner. > "Aki. No." The words burst forth, involuntarily, the body crying out to try to survive what the mind and spirit had already given up. The boy fired. The shot caught Jonathan in the chest, spun him around, and left him leaning on the far wall. It was all that held him up. He could feel his life draining away, between his fingers. He struggled to speak. "Aki. Why? You never knew me. I wanted to be your friend." He coughed. Struggled for a breath. "Your father." "The Black Dragons are my family. You are nothing, traitor. " Hikari stared at him, an odd mix of triumph and doubt on his face, the gun dangling. < This is my harvest. Sow vengeance, and reap the same poisoned seed. I understand that , now. Too late. > Jonathan's legs lost their strength, and he slid down the wall. His vision was going. Dark spots danced across his eyes. < I must be hallucinating. > < Kassmir can't be here. He's dead. > Jonathan watched, using his last flickering consciousness to see. His eyes kept slipping out of focus, but he willed them back. Kassmir walked across the room, holding Jonathan's katana. He glanced at Jonathan, then sneered and pushed Yomo aside. She stared at Kassmir, shock and amazement on her face. "Watch this Raven, before you go to hell, " Kassmir snarled, then stabbed Hikari in the back, skewering him. The boy started, then slumped on the blade. His body fell to the floor as Kassmir wrenched the katana out of his back. "Enjoy the trip. You'll have plenty of company." Kassmir raised the katana again. "No." Jonathan could barely whisper the word. "Aki, no." Consciousness fled, and his mind slipped down a long dark tunnel, his last image that of Kassmir's jeering face, chasing him to hell. * * * * Duncan groaned, and sat up. He was alone in the room. Late afternoon sunlight poked through the blinds. He staggered to his feet, his balance still unsure. His head throbbed. < She must have shot me in the heart. This took a long time. Damnit, I hope I'm not too late. > He went to the bathroom, inspecting himself in the mirror. *You look like hell, boy. Death warmed over. * Hardly any blood was visible on his shirt. < If I button the jacket, maybe no one will notice. > He splashed some water on his face, then sorted rapidly through a pile of papers Yomo had left on her dresser, picked up his bag, and headed for the lobby. He noted the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the suite door, and smiled, grimly. She thought of everything. < I wonder what her real name is. > He tossed a credit card on the registration desk. The manager was there. He felt a brief surge of regret. A possibility missed. No time now. "Send me the bill. I'm in a hurry." He turned and left the lobby, striding as rapidly as he could without running. A taxi stood in the drive, and he climbed in. He'd found Raven's address on some of the paperwork from the sale, in Yomo's things. She must have intended to come back, and check out later. < While my body lay there decorating the floor. She's a very cool lady. Ice cool.> The cabbie pushed the lights, eager for the $100 Duncan had offered as a tip if he could make the trip in less than an hour. Duncan watched the sun as it began to sink beneath the horizon. < This is taking too long. I'm too late. > The cab pulled up to the drive of a large house, set well back from the street. The yards were large here, the nearest house several hundred feet away, screened by thick bamboo. < He's got money, no question about it. But is he still alive? > There were three cars in the drive, one of them a Jeep, the other two, rentals. < At least the party's not over. > Duncan thrust the bills at the cabbie and got out. The cab drove away. Duncan hurried up the drive, unzipping his bag and drawing his katana as he did so. He could feel the beginning of a buzz. Kassmir was here. The door was open, the light spilling out onto the entryway. Duncan slipped in, his katana out, cautious. The buzz was stronger. The need to hurry warred with caution, and won. Duncan stepped quickly into the living room. Nothing. Furniture disarrayed, splattered blood on the walls, floor and couch, but no one. No body. < I should have warned Raven. He might have beaten Kassmir in a fair fight, but how do you kill a dead man? > A clash of metal on metal, from the kitchen. Duncan moved to the entryway, and stopped. It reeked of death. Three bodies lay there. Raven's body leaned against the wall, its eyes staring at nothing, its blood stained hands laying slack and open in its lap. Two boys sprawled face down across the floor, too still to be alive. Blood was everywhere. Yomo leaned on the sink, panting and holding a seeping slash in her side, her other hand grasping the ancient katana. Kassmir, one arm limp and dripping blood, raised his katana and closed on her. "Traitor. You betrayed us." Yomo spat out the words and slashed at him. "I fought to the death for your contract. It was only to the death, after all." Kassmir grinned mirthlessly and blocked her thrust . He dropped his shoulder, feinting an underhanded riposte. She responded, and he drove in over her guard, pinning her to the wall with his blade, through her shoulder. She gasped, and dropped the katana. "I have other contracts, too. A pity the Black Dragons are so short sighted." He yanked his blade from her body as she sagged and slid down the wall. Her eyes closed, and she sighed, then stopped breathing, her head lolling sideways, her mouth half opened as if to speak. Kassmir picked up the fallen katana and turned to Duncan, a wild fey smile on his face, the two katanas glittering their lethal promise in his hands. "I love the smell of blood, don't you?" He slashed at Duncan, twice, then swirled and brought both katanas at him, again, scissoring them alternately so Duncan had to defend from each side. Duncan barely met Kassmir's blades, and moved back, step by step, out of the charnel house that was the kitchen, back into the living room. < Damn, he was good. > "You got here too soon, Highlander. I haven't finished with Raven yet." Kassmir pressed harder, one blade scoring Duncan's face, leaving a long clean slice across his cheek. < I could have just stayed away. Run. He wouldn't have followed.> "I still need his head. I told you I'd come back for you, later. What's your hurry to die?" Kassmir chopped down at Duncan's legs, slashing deep into Duncan's thigh before Duncan could block his attack. Duncan staggered, and desperately tried to correct his balance. *You can't run from evil, it will follow no matter where you go. He must be stopped.* Kassmir glared at him, intent on a new thought. "Or did you want his head, yourself?" Duncan seized the initiative, and attacked through Kassmir's momentary hesitation. He beat one katana out of Kassmir's hand, and swung his katana two handed, battering through Kassmir's defenses, slicing deeply into his shoulder. < I have to move fast, I'm losing too much blood to last long. .> "I don't slaughter new Immortals, steal their heads and their Quickenings before they even know what they are." Duncan grated out the words, slashing his katana with a cold calculated fury. "You are scum, Kassmir." < I must stop him, now.> "Scum rises to the surface. I'll be on top, at the end." Kassmir grinned, and feinted a thrust, then kicked Duncan in the knee, sending him staggering to the floor, his leg numb, the kneecap broken. Duncan rolled as Kassmir slashed at him, then reached up and let Kassmir's momentum carry him onto Duncan's katana, braced against the floor. It went deep into his belly. < It's over. At last.> Another evil one laid to rest. Another soul to battle, inside. Kassmir stood, his face blank, then took a few careful steps, and sagged onto the couch. He watched incredulous as his blood flowed across his legs. Duncan pushed himself to his feet and limped towards him, pain shooting up his legs with every motion. He brushed away the dripping blood from his slashed cheek, and raised his katana. Kassmir looked up at him, his lips skinned back from his teeth in a feral snarl. "There can be only one." Duncan swung his blade. He swayed, waiting. A faint blue mist rose up from Kassmir's torso, and curled through the air like an animated question mark, seeking another Immortal host. The mist thickened and swirled around Duncan's legs, his arms, his chest, as lights began flashing on and off in the house and sparks of random electricity spurted and shot from Duncan's hair, his fingers, his katana. He shuddered as the living fire entered his body. Each pore felt like it was burning, then waves of ecstasy shook him, as the memories and emotions of all the Immortals within Kassmir flooded into his mind and soul. Kassmir's persona blasted him with hate. Duncan resisted the emotion, examining the memories, the scattered bits of information that poured past. He stood, blood still oozing from his leg, exhausted. No time to rest, now. He took a step towards the kitchen, driven by urgency, but his body was too battered and his legs collapsed under him. Duncan knelt, leaning against his katana, for a long moment. His vision darkened, then cleared. The buzz of another Immortal's aura pressed against his consciousness. * Get up. Now. He needs you. Go. * =========================================================================