Date: Thu, 9 Jun 1994 22:32:30 EDT Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Hobert@AOL.COM Subject: CHANGES, Part 4 Changes by Kevin H. Robnett Part 4 Richard Ryan lay in a bed in a nameless motel beside the highway in New Mexico. He had managed barely an hour of driving, before the storm in the sky, and the storm in his heart caught up with him. He lay sleepless, gazing at the ceiling, wondering if he could go running back to Mac, if Mac would care, or finally kill him on the spot. Inside him, a convocation of voices babbled, largely ignored. Sleeping fitfully, the sleep of the damned. Night passed, and he finally rose, once again only thinking of Mexico and safety. Checking outside before opening the door, he cautiously moved to Gregor's car. In a few hours he would be safe. He reached El Paso by late afternoon. Parking the car at a sidewalk, he loaded the last of his change into the meter. After walking many blocks, he found his target. He moved nonchalantly toward the customs station at the bottom of the bridge, one of three that connected the States with Mexico. Moving into a crowd of Hispanics, he ambled to the pedestrian entrance. Not daring to look, he hoped the U.S. cops would ignore him. They didn't seem to be stopping anyone leaving the country, and only a very few trying to enter. Ten feet past the building, as the bridge started to climb, he heard the commotion behind him. Hearing the words 'Albuquerque' he burst into a run, passing the crowd he was with. Shouts of 'Stop!' followed him to the apex, where the sight of Mexican authorities from the other side assailed him. Glancing behind, he took the only other option available. He climbed the tall railing at the edge of the bridge, looking down at the waters of the Rio Grande far below, turning to watch the police arrive. They stopped and drew their weapons, aiming at him, a semi-circle of death. Preparing for the jump, he quickly reached into his jacket to check the money Gregor had given him. In that split second, a rookie, barely older than Richie was, panicked. A shot rang out, tearing at Richie's body. Like a bursting dam, a hail of other bullets followed, destroying the smooth skin of the Immortal. Knocking him off the bridge, he plunged to the river below. He floated on air, the pain overloading all his thoughts. A kind of peace followed, a peace of inevitability. Downward he fell, oblivion taking him as he landed on the water, blackness enveloping him as he sank beneath the dark water. Farther and farther from the light, and sound, and life, and love. Death waited in the murky depths, waiting to claim his own. Deeper, and deeper, and... Silence. Darkness. Quiet. Still. Nothing. Empty. Void. *THUMP-THUMP* A sharp pain in the chest. The ache of blood flowing to numb limbs. *THUMP-THUMP* Agony radiating from his body, centered in the chest. The sound of wind rushing in his ears as the blood moves. *THUMP-THUMP* *Thump-Thump* *Thump-Thump* *Thump-Thump* *Thump-Thump*Tha-Thump*tha-thump*tha-thump* thathumpthathumpthathumpthathump. Sitting up caused pain to well up from every part of his body. Glancing around the street, he saw Duncan cradling... Ignoring the agony, he crawled to the pair, Duncan weeping and Tessa not moving. He lay there, watching the two, until sirens could be heard far away. He almost missed Duncan's voice in their noise. He glanced at his friend, uncomprehending. Duncan never moved his head, never stopped rocking, but repeated his word. "Run." Richie still did not understand, partly in shock, partly in confusion. The sirens drew closer. Duncan took a deep breath, and screamed into the night, a ghastly sound, like a wolf's howl, or madman's cry. "RRRRRUUUUUUUUNNNNNNNN!!!!" Shocked, scared, his body obeyed when his mind would not, tearing into the bushes, running with all his might, the sound of anguished wailing drowned out the sirens as they closed behind him. Into the darkness he sped, trees and brush tearing at his clothes. He ran forever, not knowing where he was going, not caring. Somehow, sometime during the night he managed to reach Duncan's warehouse, abandoned and alone in the darkness. There he collapsed on a pile of dirt, finally releasing the tears, pounding the ground with his fists until they bled. The unquenchable sound of his heart *Tha-Thump* mocked Tessa's lifeless one. Screaming his rage, he stood, standing next to a steel support, and rammed his head into it until blood flowed freely, soaking his clothes, blinding his eyes. He continued bashing his head until sleep, merciful sleep took over... He walked through the fog-shrouded graveyard, looking right and left at the gothic crosses and statues careening at odd angles in the gloom. He searched for a particular man. Tall, long-hair, wearing a trench coat. Wisps of fog parted, revealing his quarry. Standing at the edge of Tessa's open grave, Duncan waited patiently. He turned at Richie's approach, his katana resting in his arms. He spoke not a word, but looked at Richie, his eyes conveying the loathing and hate. Amanda and Annie were there to comfort the bereaved, Richie's companionship no longer needed. They whispered nothings into Duncan's ear, all the while smiling mischievously at the newest Immortal. Duncan stripped off the trench coat, handing it to Amanda. Only wearing jeans, he advanced toward Richie, holding the katana above his head. Richie reached for his own sword, grasping only air. Frantically backpedaling as the Highlander slowly approached. Around the clearing they moved, until Duncan was close enough to strike. Richie avoided the beheading blow by jumping back, back next to the hole in the ground. Something suddenly grasped his ankles. Looking down, two skeletal hands had a hold of him, pulling him back. Unbalanced, he fell forward, inches from Duncan's feet. Steadily the hands pulled, dragging him toward the pit. Arms raised, Richie's pleadings were ignored by Duncan, who instead moved back to the waiting females, eagerly caressing his body. Smiling, they all took one last look, and then laughingly walked away as Richie was pulled closer and closer to the grave. Turning over onto his back, he found himself face to face with Tessa's decomposing face as she pulled him into the gaping maw. Falling into blackness, the foul smelling creature grasping him. Clutching onto his life. Falling past a ledge... ...all three sat on as they clinked their wine glasses, toasting the happy couple. Planning a wedding, their feet swinging in the open air... ...as Gregor grasped his throat, taunting him, asking him about death. His death. Fear coursed through his body, knowing how defenseless he was against an Immortal. Begging for his life... ...at all the exquisite pieces in the room. He was forced to hide in a wardrobe when Gabriel suddenly returned home, the wine and the flames kept the designer occupied, long enough for him to run to Duncan... ...moving ahead in the catacombs, searching. Richie's light reflected off the water, sending stray flashes along the walls. He was grabbed from behind and dragged along a side passage, his yell ending as he was bashed into a wall... (Minutes turn into hours, the weeks turn into years, while we fade away...) ...on the steps, pacing back and forth in his tux, waiting for Renee. She finally arrived with her husband, fashionably late, looking worried that he would say something of their affair. He had introduced himself to the geezer she wouldn't leave, dripping as much sarcasm as he could... ...with a gun in his face. The stranger dialed the phone with his thumb as Richie squirmed in the passenger seat. He hoped calling Mac "Mr. MacLeod" would work, knowing he was dead if he or Mac slipped up. Fear put a tremble in his voice, fear of death... (I don't care what happens a month from now... I've got time on my side. Not like you.) ...as the dirt covered Gary's grave. Angie was there beside him, helping keep him sane. His world was crumbling apart, and a crazy man was his only anchor. He squeezed Angie's hand... ...when his foster-father threw him face first into the wall, wrenching his arm behind his back. Higher it went, Richie grimacing as the pain grew. Higher and higher until the sound of his bone snapping occurred with a blinding wave of agony... ...as the woman crumbled to the floor of the drugstore. Laughing all the louder, he kept nudging her shoulder, over and over, until the tall men came, in a car with flashing lights, and took her away... Faster and faster the images flashed in his mind, other memories of people past. ...Duncan MacLeod in full kilt and furs, holding his broadsword defensively as they circled... ...Amanda in a gown of gossamer and smoke, beckoning him to the massive bed that ruled the small chamber... ...Gregor and another fellow toasting him with goblets of silver, they themselves in shining armor... ...standing up to his chest in... Water. Choking him. He couldn't breathe. Out of reflex, he pushed down with his hands, pushing his head above water as he spewed the muddy liquid from his mouth, only to replace it with a gasp of air. Sweat tasting, clear, cool air. He was alive. He was Immortal. [Oh, Death, where is thy sting?] * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Concluded tomorrow... Thank you, Claire =========================================================================