Date: Mon, 12 Feb 1996 02:38:45 EST Reply-To: Janine Shahinian <72557.627@COMPUSERVE.COM> Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Janine Shahinian <72557.627@COMPUSERVE.COM> Subject: Destiny - Part 4/5 DESTINY (Part 4/5) (c) Janine Shahinian 72557.627@compuserve.com Warning: Adult language (one four-letter word alert) ********** Not wanting to cross paths with Vicky's passing car, Richie parked his bike in an alley just a couple of blocks from the Viva Tower. He forced himself to walk slowly, as well, to allow for the time it would take Vicky to park her car. Waiting for an elevator seemed to take longer than usual; the first car appeared to be stuck at the bottom. So when an elevator finally came, Richie felt confident that Vicky would already be in Carson's office. When Richie got off at the 45th floor, he realized that he didn't know what his next move should be. Judging from Vicky's end of the phone conversation, it seemed that Carson must have taken Joe's suggestion to tell Vicky that she was adopted. This didn't make Carson completely trustworthy, but it certainly helped to sway things in his favor. After weighing all the factors, Richie was almost certain how Vicky's meeting with Carson would play out. He decided to double-check whether she was actually in Carson's office. He walked down the hall towards Carson's outer office door. As he drew close, a very subtle awareness of Another washed over him. The feeling had been there before, he realized, just as the quickening of new life within a mother is often dismissed as something more common. "Hey, I can do it!" he said out loud. He returned to the elevators, but instead of pushing the down button, he chose to go up to the roof. He exited the first car into a glass and steel shelter which surrounded the elevators and stairway door. Outside, the wind hit him in the face as he stepped out onto the open rooftop. A few benches and potted fake shrubs indicated that the public was welcome to come up here but, due to its being so open, most tourists looking for an aerial view preferred the enclosed observatories which were only a few blocks away. Nevertheless, Richie liked this spot better. For one, there was no admission charge or revolving restaurant which expected you to order something while you enjoyed the view. Also, at 50 floors above street level, it was actually higher than the observation decks. There was also something to be said for being able to look all around at the world below without a bunch of glass and steel blocking your view. Richie was glad to see that he was the only one up there. Stepping over to the side railing and looking out, he revelled in the feeling of being the highest person in the city at that moment. Below him and over to his right, Richie could see the top of the protruding balconies which were one of the Viva Tower's distinctive features. It was from one of those balconies that Horton had pushed the young Watcher to his death. The thought made Richie shudder. Death might come quickly that way, but he couldn't imagine what the trip down would be like. And to think that Annie and Felicia had made the trip willingly. Could he ever do that if he had to? A rising sensation of Nearness snapped him out of his morbid thoughts and he turned to face the glass shelter behind him. The feeling did not have quite the same compelling urge to prepare himself, he noticed. Was he getting better at detecting this dormant life-force, or was the force, itself, growing stronger? ********** Vicky strode out of Paul's office and slammed the door behind her. The receptionist jerked her head up to see the cause of the commotion. Vicky was noticeably upset, but she kept her pace steady as she exited the outer office door and down the hall to the elevators. There, she gave the elevator button a good wallop and made a quick scan of the four elevators to see if any would open their doors at that moment. A janitor approached from the opposite end of the building and noticed that Vicky seemed to be in a rush. "Only one elevator seems to be working right now," he said. "I'm sure Maintenance will have them fixed soon." "Thank you," Vicky replied coolly. But her anger and frustration had reached its limit and she took off towards the stairs. Once in the stairwell, though, she paused, having second thoughts about walking down forty-five flights of stairs. she thought, and she headed upwards. The doorway out to the rooftop shelter closed smoothly behind her - without a satisfying bang - just as Richie turned and saw her emerge. But Vicky was too wrapped up in her own thoughts to notice him outside. She wanted to rage and scream and... <*WHY*> ...break something - do *anything* to vent the anger which had no defined target. Ultimately, the only thing which could be done about it was to let it go. She leaned against a large glass pane and tried to collect herself. Richie opened the outside door and Vicky looked up, startled. "What are *you* doing here?" "Well.... I remembered that your last visit wasn't so pleasant and just felt that someone should be here," Richie gently offered. "But how did you know that I'd come up here?" "I didn't. I took a chance." He gave a comforting smile. "Want to see the view now that you're here?" Vicky relaxed somewhat and put up a good front. "Sure," she said, a bit wistfully. She stepped out onto the rooftop and took her first real look around. "It really is beautiful up here," she remarked. She continued over to the railing and gazed out over the city. "I've been away for too long." She sighed and let the tension drain out of her. "Do you want to talk about it?" asked Richie. Vicky shrugged and pressed her lips together, trying to gather the courage to say it out loud. Looking out at the mountains, she shook her head. "Of all the things to find out after thirty-one years..... I was adopted." She glanced over at Richie - who gave a little pout and lowered his eyes. "Why don't you seem so surprised?" Richie met Vicky's gaze. "I...." He blinked, looked down and lifted his eyes again to meet Vicky's. "It's just that I know what you're going through." "*You're* adopted?" asked Vicky. Richie shook his head. "I never had a family. I grew up in foster homes." "But you're *name*...." insisted Vicky, "at least someone didn't slap a new name on you and you grew up thinking you were their flesh and blood." "It was something like that. I only found out three years ago that I was named after my first foster parents. I have no idea where I come from." "Oh.... then I guess you *do* know..... I feel pretty silly now with this genealogy kick I was on." ["Like it really matters where you come from." "Richie, it matters."] "It's not silly," assured Richie. "The Macmillans are your family, whether you were born their flesh and blood or they took you in." "But why would Paul suddenly decide to tell me now," Vicky insisted. "I'm sure *he* thought my project was a wasted effort." "He probably wanted you to hear the truth from him rather than having you stumble on it during your search." Vicky gave Richie a wry grin. "Funny, that's just what he said." "Well, there you go!" Richie was being a bit too convincing. "I'm not so sure...." Vicky studied Richie and recalled Duncan's words: "you can't find yourself at the end of a genealogy chart. Trust me, I know." "...But I guess I have to let it go for now," she added with a shrug. She feigned exasperation, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her away. Pity party over, her face exploded with a bright smile. "I believe you owe me a tour of the city. I could use the distraction right now." "Sure, that would be great," agreed Richie. "How about we start with the attractions which were built for the Centennial Celebration?" The two started to walk back to the glass shelter. "Sounds good to me. I've always regretted not coming back for that." Richie opened the door for Vicky and made a bow. "Your wish is my command, milady." They both laughed. Vicky pressed the button for the elevator and remarked, "I just hope we don't have to wait all day for the elevator. A janitor downstairs said only one is working." Richie looked at his watch. "Well, we have the whole afternoon. We should probably stop someplace first for lunch. I don't suppose you like chili dogs." "I love chili dogs!" "You're kidding!" "No, why?" laughed Vicky. "Ah, well, it's perfect, then. We don't have to waste a lot of time at a restaurant." Richie fidgeted with his helmet. Vicky fixed her eyes on it, but her thoughts were focused inward. For her, the helmet represented a false outer shell; it gave Richie the appearance of being something which (she believed) he was not. Her name had suddenly become like that helmet. Outside, she was Victoria Macmillan. Inside.... who knew? *DING* The down arrow over the first car lit up and the doors opened. The two entered the elevator and Richie gestured to the buttons. "What level did you park on?" "Oh, P3," answered Vicky, pulling away from her thoughts. Richie pressed the button and the doors closed. A split second later, an explosion knocked them to the floor. The chrome light fixture hanging above them shut off and Vicky started screaming. "NO! OH, GOD, NO! Not again!" Richie reached out to her as dim emergency lights came on above the elegant wood soffits. "Vicky! VICKY! It's ok; we're not falling. Are you alright?" "No, Richie, it's happening again," she cried. "Whoever killed my parents has now come for me." "But how could anyone know you were in this elevator?" Both of them looked around and sighted the small camera above the door. "Damn!" hissed Richie. "A remote trigger." He retrieved his helmet and achingly got up. A loud groaning of metal protested the movement and Richie froze, still hunched over. "The elevator must have caught on something," he observed, as he slowly stood up straight. "We have to get out of here!" pleaded Vicky. Richie pushed the door-open button, but nothing happened. He gently placed his helmet back on the floor and tried to pry the doors open. The doors didn't budge, but the elevator gave a portentous tremble as something else which had been holding them up broke off. "It's no use, " exhaled Richie as he relaxed his straining muscles. He reached down for his helmet again and, this time, swung it forcefully at the camera, smashing its lens. "Take that, you bastard." Another sound of metal straining under a load was the only reply. "It's Paul," announced Vicky in detached shock. "He summoned me here just like Blackwell did with my parents." Richie carefully lowered himself back down to the floor. "I don't think it's Paul. Someone else is trying to frame him." "WHO?!" cried Vicky, "and what could they possibly hope to gain?" thought Richie. "I wish I knew," was all Richie said. There was no time to explain, now. "I'm so sorry, Richie...." The tears flowed freely from Vicky's eyes. Richie maneuvered close to her and held her. "Shhhh, you don't have to apologize. This isn't your doing. We'll get out of this." He said it with confidence. "No, we're not," Vicky said flatly. "This elevator is going to fall before anyone can get to us. We're going to *die*, Richie." Richie desperately wanted to say, "No, we won't die," but it would only sound foolish and insane. He didn't want to upset Vicky any more by seemingly going crazy on her. He needed to be a source of strength. "Here, put my helmet on," said Richie. "Richie..." "Please, just do it," he said gently. "There isn't time to argue." He helped put the helmet on Vicky's head and lowered the visor. "I'm scared to die, Richie." She sobbed. "Aren't you scared?" Richie thought his heart was going to break. His eyes stung with tears. ["Are you afraid of death, Richie?" "Absolutely."] Richie nodded his head. "I'm afraid of death." He had to change the words so they wouldn't ring hollow. "I wish I had more time, " Vicky weeped. The tears welled up and spilled over. "You will," he answered. All at once, the sound of metal scraping against metal flooded their senses as whatever had held them up finally gave way. Their bodies became nearly weightless as the elevator plunged straight down. Vicky clung to Richie with all her might. Too terrified to even scream, she whimpered "Oh, oh, oh...." all the way down. It was a living hell. Richie almost thought the bottom would never come. It came. In one single, horrifying moment, the metal box slammed into the foundation, its passengers bounced violently like ragdolls, and everything plunged into blackness. As a final act of destruction, the chrome light fixture which had hung in the center of the elevator's tall ceiling came crashing down, impaling itself into Richie's chest. ********** Duncan was in his car, heading back to the dojo after his meeting with the building inspector. A jazz station played on his radio. It cut to the 12:30 p.m. news as Duncan pulled up in front of his building. He was about to turn off his car when the words he just heard registered in his brain. // "....an explosion at the Viva Tower. Police cannot say at this time whether or not it was a bomb. Their first priority will be to clear the building of all occupants before the bomb squad is sent in to investigate..." // Duncan jumped out of his car without using the door and bounded up the dojo steps. "Richie? Vicky?" he called as he ran into the office. On seeing Richie's note, he cursed and ran back out to his car, the tires screeching as he pulled away. // "....found the bodies of two security guards on the premises....." // Duncan parked his car around the corner from the Viva Tower and worked his way through the crowd exiting and hovering around the building. Imagining the effects of yet another car bomb, he seized the first police officer he encounted. "Officer, I've got friends in the building. Can you tell me what's happening?" "Right now we're just trying to get people out and secure the area around the security station where we found the bodies." "Bodies. You mean the security guards." "That's right. Say buddy, if your friends are able to walk down the flights of stairs, you're just going to have to wait for them out here." "What if they can't?" "The bomb squad has just finished inspecting the freight elevator and we'll soon be bringing people down in that. Now, if you don't need me, I have to go." "Thank you, officer." Duncan slipped around the small army of cops and into the building. From what he overheard, folks had heard two explosions, but no one could say exactly where they came from. The sounds had been heard throughout the building. On a hunch, he headed down into the basement. ********** Vicky revived with a gasp and then a cough as the weight pressing on her chest prevented her from getting her breath. She felt trapped in a dark, suffocating, stinking, sticky and utterly painful hell. Sheer panic caused her to push with all her might to free herself. The burden on top of her was soft, yet firm. Her only thought was to get away from the revolting mass. She rolled free and lay there, trying to collect her thoughts. The pain subsided, bit by bit, as her eyes adjusted to the dimness. She had been in an elevator. It fell. She quickly sat up, removed the helmet and looked around her. The elevator was smashed around her. Above her, the ceiling was much closer and sloped to one side. The walls had split near the corners and buckled outwards, light spilling in through the cracks. The floor was cracked down the middle. And there, lying face up under the smashed light fixture, was Richie's lifeless body. "Oh, Richie! Richie! Oh, no! Oh, God, no..." Vicky cried as she crawled over to him. She saw the sharp edge of a chrome rod sticking into Richie's chest and pulled it out with trembling hands, the sight of it nearly pushing her over the edge into shock. Her world had come to a standstill and all she could do was kneel and gaze upon Richie. She brushed the broken glass off of him and wiped the dust and debris from his cold face. Vicky was hit with a strange and powerful sensation and gasped in unison with Richie. She then sat dumbstruck as Richie groaned and rolled sideways into a fetal position. A moment later, he slowly straightened himself out. With a couple of moans and a cough, he worked himself up onto his elbow, holding his chest with his other hand. He looked up at Vicky. "Let's not do that again." Vicky found her voice. "You were *dead*! I saw you!" "So were you." Richie grunted as he sat up and faced Vicky. "You're immortal now, like me. That feeling you got? As I came back? It's how we know other Immortals." Vicky sat uncomprehending, refusing to believe her eyes. Richie sighed and mumbled, "This thing really should come with a set of instructions." ["What were you expecting, a set of instructions?" "Well, Mac, even Superman had..." "You're not Superman, Richie."] Obviously, you couldn't get more tangible evidence of immortality than dying in front of someone and coming back to life. But for Vicky, it was too bizarre. She needed something a little more down to earth, something which connected to reality as she knew it. Richie got an idea and reached for Vicky's fallen purse. He opened it and pulled out the folded paper. "I take it you heard what happened, " he said while unfolding it. "That was *you*? You really *died*?" Richie just let that sink in. "And me? You knew?" "Well, Mac knew. And... He did the same thing with me." "So he's immortal, too." It was a statement. She was doing her best to absorb all this. "Mm-mm," Richie nodded. "Do you remember what you said about Mac talking about history like he was there?" Vicky's eyes lit up. "You're kidding!" "He's going on four-hundred-and-three." "Vicky shook her head <"had it ten times worse" - funny Duncan> and then looked at Richie. "How old are *you*?" "I just turned twenty-one." Richie gave a sheepish grin. "I get to look nineteen for the rest of my life." Vicky was obviously bursting with more questions but it was not the time to go into them. Richie stood up and looked around. "We'll talk more later. Right now, we have to get out of here." Indicating the smashed elevator, he added, "This doesn't look too good. In case it hadn't occurred to you, making headlines is something to be avoided." The cracks in the walls were too small to squeeze through. Richie used a chrome bar from the light fixture to pry the ceiling hatch open. As he was about to jump up, the feeling that another Immortal was near hit both of them. "Shit," hissed Richie. "What's the matter? It's Duncan, right?" "Ah, I forgot to mention.... I think another Immortal is after you." Seeing Vicky's confusion, he held his hands up and gestured pleadingly for Vicky to hold off with her questions. "Er, so far I've only covered the *good* news." "So what's the *bad* news?" insisted Vicky. Richie pulled out his sword and Vicky drew in a surprised breath. Richie's eyes met Vicky's and he answered, "If your head comes away from your neck, it's over." ********** end part 4/5 of Destiny - Janine Shahinian 72557.627@compuserve.com =========================================================================