Date: Thu, 14 Dec 1995 17:35:14 -0800 Reply-To: Rachel Smith Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Rachel Smith Subject: Beginnings II 3/4 Beginnings II (Sequel to "Beginnings") by Rachel Smith PART 3/4 Kayla figured since she was going to have a lot of time on her hands, she might as well use it doing something constructive. She began unpacking in full force. Underwear goes here, jeans go here, sweatshirts go here. It seemed like only a few minutes had gone by, but when she looked at her clock she noticed it was after 6:00. She went downstairs. "Mom? Mom, I..." she stopped suddenly. There was a note on the table. "'Kayla- went out to the store to finish buying groceries. I think we have some leftovers in the fridge. Don't let any strange immortals in the house. -Mom.' " she read aloud. "Hmmm. Looks like I'm on my own," she murmured. Kayla pulled open the door of the refrigerator. There wasn't much on the inside. General Chow chicken, ice trays, and a bagel. It was enough. It was a good thing they had a microwave. *Don't leave home without it,* she thought drily. She stuck the chicken and the bagel in the microwave and nuked them for a minute. When she took them out, they were still cold, but she ate them anyway. The bagel was kind of rubbery so she put the chicken on top of it. After dinner, she went into the living room. She looked at the box that held her computer. Kayla decided she might as well try to get it re-assembled. She always seemed to have a knack for putting things together, and this was a challenge she couldn't pass up. Only a few minutes had passed before she had become hopelessly entangled in wires and completely lost. However, she perservered and within the hour she was less lost and was making slow, but sure progress. So absorbed was she in her task that she didn't notice the Buzz ringing in her ears until someone knocked lightly on the door. She was aroused from her reverie to the sense of another immortal just outside. The beginnings of fear lurched in her stomach when she realized it must be her mother. She didn't know she had been holding her breath until she let it out in a rush. Kayla went to the door warily, just in case. It was a good thing too, because when she opened the door, it wasn't her mother, but the strange man her mother seemed to have such an aversion to that they'd met earlier at the market. Needless to say, she shut the door relatively quickly. Not quickly enough, apparantly, because the man forced himself across the threshold. Kayla was petrefied. She knew her mom wouldn't have such a strong objection to this man without good reason. She backed away slowly. She didn't know what to do: run upstairs and look for a weapon - preferably a really long knife - or wait and see what happened. Her indecision was costing her precious moments. She looked back and forth from the steps and the man. Finally he spoke. "Clever woman, you mum is," he had a light Australian accent and one of his eyes was rolling strangely. Kayla breathed shallowly, for fear of upsetting her stomach which had, in the past few minutes, wound itself into knots. "E-excuse me?" "This house. You see, it's on holy ground. An ancient Indian burial site," he explained matter-of-factly. "I can't kill you unless you come out of here. I noticed a sign the Native Americans place on all graves to help the dead find their way to the next world." Kayla was rather speechless. She couldn't seem to make her tongue say what her mind was thinking. All she could come up with was a weak, sort of relieved, "No kidding." "I don't suppose your mum is around, is she? I've got a bit of a grudge, y'see. I'd give my right eye for her head..." *That man is insane,* thought Kayla. She was quickly losing her cool. *Think calm things,* she told herself. *Bunnies. Flowers. Teddy bears....oh this is not working.* "In fact," the man continued. "I already gave my eye. Now all I need is her HEAD!!" he got louder with each word. Then he popped his glass right eye out with a soft grunt. "Nasty isn't it. Your beloved mum did that." Kayla just freaked after that. No way was she staying in that house with that man any longer. Holy ground or no holy ground she was not going to tolerate being in the same room with some mental immortal. Her heart was pounding out of her chest and she walked seemingly calmly to the kitchen. She grabbed a knife. She looked back, he wasn't following her. He really *was* insane. He was putting together the computer. For one crazy second, she considered letting him put it together, then stabbing him later. Then she reconsidered. It would be for the best just to put it together herself. She got as close as she dared and threw the knife as hard as she could. It flew through the air with a whistle and landed square in his back with a satisfying thud. Kayla looked frantically at the body. *Uh-oh. Now what am I going to do?* She wasn't really thinking straight, but she knew enough to get out of there before he revived himself. She didn't know where to go, so she went up the road until the neighbor's farm was in sight. She was glad she had met them earlier, when they came up to view the house. She pounded on the door. *Please be home. Please be home. Please be home.* Their dog was barking, so she couldn't hear anyone coming to the door. Thankfully they were. By the time the farmer's wife came to the door she was sobbing hysterically, and it was a few minutes before she could get out a coherent phrase. At least it was coherent to her. The farmer's wife thought Kayla was in shock because she was babbling on about immortals and holy ground. Finally, she it got through to her that Kayla needed to use the phone to try and contact her mom on Hannah's cellular. "Hello?" "Mom? Oh mommy! Mom come home. I need you! That guy came. You have to come. Mommy! Come home!" she cried. "Shh. Calm down. I'm on my way home. What did he do to you?" "He was going to kill me! You have to come home!" "I'm coming, baby, just hang on. Where are you?" "I'm at th---" the line got disconnected. Hannah looked disgustedly at the cellular. Cheap thing. She threw it down. Hard. If that man had hurt her daughter in any way, she would have his head. Hell, she planned on taking his head anyway for what he did to her, fifteen years ago... --Seacouver, 1979-- "Look, I told you. This guy broke into my house, and attacked me with a sword. I grabbed the nearest thing which was a poker in the fire place and defended myself. I don't know why he attacked me. I don't know why he was carrying a sword. My sword is an antique. It has been passed through my family for years," she explained to the cops for the fifth time. The officer still looked suspicious, like she was the criminal, instead of the victim, but he had no right to be questioning her like that in her home. "Be sure to contact us if you hear from him again," he called as he left. She waved her hand in the air vaguely, as if to say "Yeah, right. Your wish is my command." Hannah shut the door quietly. So far Kayla was sleeping like...well, like a baby. She didn't want to wake her up. Hannah picked up the phone and called Philip again. She was a full grown woman, true, and he was also much younger then her, but she could use some comfort. It wasn't every day a strange immortal came into your house and tried to take your head for no reason. He picked up the phone after four rings. "Hello?" "Philip, it's Hannah again. I was wondering if you could come over here tonight," she said nervously. "Sure...um, if you don't mind me asking, why do you want me to come over?" "Just, please. Will you come over?" "Ah, okay. I'll be right there. What did you say your address was?" Philip was on his way when Kayla started crying again. "Not now, please," she grumbled on her way to Kayla's bedroom. It was sort of a make-shift baby's room. She definitely wasn't expecting a baby, so Kayla was sleeping in the guest room in a big, king size bed where she couldn't fall out. When she went in the room, the first thing she noticed was the oder. Then she realized another mistake. She didn't buy any diapers. "Oh brother." The doorbell rang while Hannah was still considering her dilemma. She felt the Buzz coming down the steps, and she crossed her fingers for luck, hoping it wasn't that strange man, or somebody equally unpleasant. No need to worry though, it was just Philip. She smiled. "I'm glad you could come. I had a, er, incident just a while ago. This guy comes into my house, doesn't say anything, and just starts attacking me with his sword. I didn't have any time to prepare. It was weird." Philip raised his eyebrows. "Tell me. Did this guy have really blue eyes, kind of tall, pretty good looking?" "Yeah. How did you know? Have you met him before?" "Yes. His name is Jason Broque, and he hunts down female immortals under the mistaken impression that they are weaker, and all he has to do is surprise them to win easily. Actually, it's worked many times." "When did you meet him?" "I met him at the beginning of end of the 19th century. I was young and foolish..." Hannah smirked wickedly. "You still are, coming into a strange immortal's house. I could be planning to kill you as you sleep." He smirked just as wickedly. "Are you inviting me to sleep here tonight?" She just smiled and changed the subject, "So then what happened?" "He was there when I took my first quickening. Consequently, it was a woman. A particularly deadly woman. But anyway, he asked me to join with him. He said it'd be easier with two people instead of one. We could even start hunting men. I said no way. I said he was crazy. After that I lost track of him, but I guess he was here." --Toronto highways, the present-- Hannah could feel the tears running down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She was thinking of the time when she found Kayla, and the first time she encountered Jason Broque. She didn't want to think about what happened next, but she couldn't stop the memories from coming. --Seacouver, 1979-- One thing lead to another, and soon Hannah and Philip were lying in bed together. They fell asleep late that night, and when they woke, the sun rose and started shining in the window, and Philip started getting dressed. He had to go back to the museum. He kissed Hannah on the cheek. "Hey," he whispered. "Hey. I have to go. Call me." She mumbled a groggy afirmative and rolled over in bed. He looked at her fondly for a moment, but then continued to get his clothes on. Hannah was just starting to get out of bed when he left. He was gone and probably nearly at the museum when she found his rapier lying half under the bed. Foolish to have forgotten it. He must have been really preoccupied when he left. She knew he would really be needing it, especially with that Broque fellow hanging around. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater and jumped in the car. She pulled into the parking lot, but was drawn to the sound of clanging and banging in a nearby alley-way. Hannah saw Philip, her beloved, as of last night, trying to defend himself against Jason Broque. "Sonofabitch!" she murmured. Philip didn't have his sword, and was using a couple metal trash can lids. It was ridiculous. Hannah had left Philip's rapier in the car, and was cursing herself for it. She felt around, in her purse, in her pockets, for any kind of weapon she could give to Philip to help. One part of her conscience was whispering the rule about not interfering rather persistantly in her ear. However, she ignored it, and threw a knife, which she just happened to have with her to Philip. It was a bit mis-aimed, though, and it landed directly in Jason Broque's eye. He squirmed in pain for a bit, which brought the two male duelers body to body. Broque grabbed the knife from his eye and thrust it into Philip's heart. Then he delivered the killing blow. The quickening came soon after and she couldn't bear to watch. Hannah went back to her car and drove desolately back to her house. She was still in a bit of shock. She was blaming herself for Philip's death. She tried to help him, but she got him killed. *It was my fault.* she thought. That was why she didn't go back for Broque. She had interfered, and it wasn't right. She had broken the rules and there were penalties. She put it out of her mind, and hoped Kayla was okay. Once again she hadn't been thinking. She had completely forgotten she had a small child. A *pre-immortal* child at her house, unsupervised. Luckily when she got there, Kayla was still fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what had gone on while she slumbered. --Suburb of Toronto, the present-- Hannah walked through the door of her house carefully. Someone was there, she was sure of it. Kayla perhaps. Or Broque. She looked in the living room with her sword in front of her. A dark figure was collapsed on the floor by the computer. "Kayla?" she cried. Then she got a little closer. It wasn't Kayla. It was *him.* Once she got off of holy ground she was going to kill him. If he did anything whatsoever to her daughter, he was going to pay for it. Then she saw the knife sticking out of his back. *Kayla must have done that,* she assumed. *Good for her.* Hannah withdrew the knife from his back and waited for him to recover. "You're going to die," she said simply. He looked at her insanely. "That's what you think. Come outside and we'll see." They walked outside and assumed attack postitions. Each thinking only of vengeance. Broque for his eye, Hannah for her Philip and maybe for her Kayla. Jason Broque was truly insane. He tried all sorts of pointless tricks, then frantic defense. He just couldn't do it with one eye. Hannah cut off his head with *much* pleasure. END PART THREE comments/critisms: janier@ix.netcom.com janier1321@aol.com =========================================================================