Date: Mon, 10 Oct 1994 10:49:32 +0100 Reply-To: Highlander TV show stories Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: MB Overton Subject: "End of the Road" Part 5 Told you Part 5 would be hot on the heels of Part 4! By the way, there are seven parts. HIGHLANDER "End of the Road" Part 5 As darkness began to descend over the antiques shop, Duncan pulled the blind down over the window and turned back to see Flint and Tessa watching him, the latter anxiously and the former with no expression at all. "Not back yet," Duncan said unnecessarily. "I'm worried," Tessa declared. "He'd have said something by now. It's not like Richie." "You never know," Flint said lightly. "Young love and all that." Duncan half-smiled, but inside something gnawed at him. Flint had overheard Richie's misgivings that morning...could he have decided to have the teenager taken care of? Duncan had no illusions about where Flint's morality led; if Flint saw a threat to himself, he would take what steps he considered necessary to neutralise the threat. "Richie's a responsible young man," Tessa was saying, a touch pedantically. "He'd have called if he was going to be late. He knew we'd worry about him." "Tessa's right," Duncan interrupted, "but that doesn't make it any easier. We have no idea where Richie was going or even who that girl of his was. They could be anywhere." "What about the car number?" Flint suggested. "I got a good look at it, you could try having that traced. I presume you've got a contact somewhere who can do that for you?" "I could try," Duncan admitted. "Try? Why, Macleod, you're losing your touch. Back in the old days, you'd have had your finger in every bag of goodies in the country." "This isn't the old days, Flint." Duncan picked up the katana from its stand, missing the flash of sadness that passed over the older immortal's face when he said that. He turned back. "What was the number?" Flint recited it, then added, "Want me to come too?" Duncan shook his head. "No. You stay and look after Tessa." Flint grinned. "With pleasure." "Don't get any ideas," Tessa said coolly. "Who, me?" "Yes, you," Duncan retorted, heading for the door. As he went out into the street, Flint grinned at Tessa. "Isn't this cosy?" "Don't even think about it." "Actually, I wasn't. I have a great respect for Macleod, believe it or not. There are an awful lot of immortals in the world who are just as unpleasant as ordinary mort - people." "Ordinary mortals, I think you were saying." "Sorry. Force of habit." Flint pushed himself away from the walkway and headed into the kitchen. For want of something better to do, Tessa followed him in time to see him standing on tiptoes trying to reach a jar of coffee on a high shelf. She reached up and passed it down to him. "Thanks. One of the many difficulties faced over the centuries due to the fact that I happened to be eighteen years old when I first snuffed it." Flint grinned at her and began making coffee. "Mind you, it's been helpful as well. If I'd been older when the Greeks sacked Troy I'd have been in real trouble." "You...were at the siege of Troy?" Tessa queried. "Mmm-hmm." Flint leaned confidentially closer. "You want to know the real truth about that wooden horse business?" "What?" "It never happened." Tessa blinked. "What?" Flint shook his head. "All rubbish. Greek propaganda made to show how stupid the Trojans really were. Homer was the original Public Relations officer, I guess you'd say." He chuckled idly and poured boiling water over the coffee granules, adding milk at the same time. "You were born at Troy?" "No...I was about Duncan's age then. I was born well before that." Tessa looked at him, trying to comprehend what it must have been like living through all those years. It was immense, staggering - and somehow the only thing she could think of to ask was, "Do you remember your family?" "Which family? I've had hundreds over the years." "No, your family. Parents, grandparents..." "Oh, them." Flint smiled and shrugged. "They're no more special to me now than any other group of people." He gave her a gentle, wistful look quite unlke his normal personality. "Most of the time they just sleep in my mind, and I forget. It's only when I really want to that they come back in front of my eyes again." "You regret that?" Flint shrugged again. "It's inevitable, given the number of people I've met over the years. You know, the only people I really remember are my own kind, the immortals. I can tell you the names and describe the faces of every immortal who's head I've ever taken. Sad but true." "I don't think it's sad," Tessa said, surprising both of them. "You're warriors, fighters. The immortals always have been. Is it a surprise that you remember battles?" "You know what I was originally?" Flint inquired. "I was the apprentice to a priest, a gentle old man. This was well before Christianity of course, in the days when priests were a separate caste altogether. People who stayed apart from society. I was never going to be a warrior. It was forced on me, and I just found out that I was good at it." Tessa sensed a sadness in his words and made the final conclusion that, unknown to her, Flint had been gently pushing her towards. "And so you're tired of it. You want to die." "Precisely." Flint passed her one coffee and sipped at the other. "I want to find out what there is after death. I want to find out about death, come to that. I've seen it in so many forms and now I want to experience it for myself. And I'm tired of the world anyway, Tessa. I've been everywhere, I've seen every society. I want to end it now. I've had a good life, and a long life as well. People like Macleod hold the torch now." "Then why Duncan? Why ask him?" Flint took a moment to answer. "Because I can't just put down my sword and ask the next immortal who comes along to take my head. I've lived six thousand years, and during that time my Quickening has become almost as sought-after as the Prize, whatever that turns out to be. My strength and essence, even my knowledge in a subliminal way. To some people..." "...a deadly weapon," Tessa completed. "A great power," Flint agreed. "So I spent ten years searching the world, reading the Watchers' files, making my own files, analysing each and every immortal and trying to decide which would not misuse it, or maybe whether or not each person would be tempted." "And you settled on Duncan." Tessa was both amazed and proud, amazed that Duncan should have been chosen and proud that he was, that of all the immortals in the world Flint had decided that Duncan should be the one, that Duncan was the only one. Pun not intended, of course. "And I chose Duncan," Flint nodded. "It must be Duncan. I'm getting slower, Tessa, less practiced. I can still beat every immortal alive, but it's getting to be more work for me. Sooner or later, by the law of averages, I'm going to lose. I want to lose to Duncan Macleod." ... "Death would have been instantaneous," the pathologist said wearily, polishing his spectacles on a dirty fringe of his grey lab coat. "Of course it would. There's no way the woman would have felt anything." He looked round to the silent, unmoving Duncan. "Friend of yours, was she?" "Friend of a friend," Duncan said, looking at the naked pale corpse on the table and the severed head placed just above the neck. It was like one of those drawings where a child had to put the body parts in the right order, the head disconnected and floating around loose waiting to be reconnected. "Probably done with a sword," the pathologist added. "No sign of any bruising on the head or shoulders, which indicates that there was no need for a second blow. One stroke was all it took. Whoever did it was quite an expert, knew just where to strike." "Yes." Duncan let that one word hang in the air as he turned and left the lab, stepping out into the corridor and heading back in the direction of the main police station. He tried to think of the few immortals that lived in Seattle along with himself, but none of them were conceivably guilty of decapitating Richie's nameless girlfriend. A sort of guarded truce existed between them all. None of them would have done this. Then who? Flint, a nasty voice whispered in Duncan's ear. Flint. Duncan tried to deny it, but the suspicion grew in his mind. Flint had been out of his sight during the afternoon. He could easily have found Richie, killed his girlfriend, and possibly killed Richie too. It might be simple chance that the girl's body had been found in the river and Richie's hadn't. Flint had overheard Richie in the shop that morning. Flint had been in the shop when the three burglars had tried their abortive robbery. It was all adding up to a picture Duncan didn't like. And he'd left Tessa with Flint as well. He increased his stride. Sergeant Tarella looked up as the tall figure of the highlander entered the office without breaking pace. "Did you find - " His voice trailed off as Duncan walked straight past him and out of the office without even slowing down one instant. Tarella shrugged and went back to work, dismissing the issue as irrelevant. Besides, he had Macleod's address anyway. ... A finger of light stabbed through the darkness, making Richie wince and blink in surprise. He had been kept in pitch blackness for three hours now and the sudden brightness made him squint like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car, staring blindly at its own destruction. Richie also stared blindly, at the figure on the other side of the torch, the woman Maire. All he could see clearly were her eyes, staring at him with the same kind of amusement as a school kid stirring up an ants' nest. "I had some time on my hands," Maire said. "Thought I'd visit." "Don't bother on my account," Richie retorted. She chuckled lightly, dangerously. "Such fire. Some mortals are like dragonflies, are they not? Buzzing rapidly around so brightly and energetically, a short but stellar life. You remind me of others like that, dancing around and glowing so bright." "Remind me to show you the natural history museum sometime." "Ah-ah." Maire waved her finger. "Correction, Richie Ryan. There won't be a next time. Not for you, nor for your friends. After all, I couldn't just let you leave now you know what you know, could I?" "Who me? Nah, I don't know nothing." "Don't know anything," she corrected with faint contempt. Then she sat down in front of him, tied as he was to the chair and powerless to even look away from her. "Shall I tell you a story, Richie?" "Yeah. How about the one where you have a change of heart and let me go, then give yourself up to Mac or Flint and let one of them do the old swish, whoops, there goes another head." Maire smiled. "No. Not that one. Perhaps another. Tell me, Richie, do you like old Fifties B movies?" "Why?" "I do. I was in a lot of them, of course, and that's why I like them as well. But I especially like the part where the hero's tied up and powerless and the evil mastermind comes to explain his plot." Maire leaned forward, eyes glittering in the torchlight. "I never understood that impulse until now. I want other people to know how clever I've been." "There's a wall behind you that's real interested." Maire smiled again. She did that a lot. "Perhaps. But aren't you?" "Nope." "You should be. After all, this is one of the few plans ever invented in the whole of the universe that's truly foolproof." Maire stood up and began to circle Richie. "It begins like this..." ... Duncan entered the shop and paused for a moment to look around him. The shop was silent and there were no lights on. Carefully, he reached out to the lightswitch and touched it, flooding the shop with illumination. The moment he did so, he saw Tessa. "Tess!" He nearly leapt across the floor of the shop, skidding to a stop beside the unconscious woman. As he turned her over he saw the front of her clothing had been slashed to ribbons by the blade of a sword, exposing her naked chest. Her breathing was shallow and irregular, and Duncan's face was a mask of fury as he examined her for any serious injuries. There were none, but that did nothing to abate his fury. If her slacks had been damaged he would have suspected rape, but it was only the upper half of her body. She was bleeding from a dozen cuts, some serious and some superficial, the blood staining the floor and streaking her blonde hair. "Got the pizza, Tessa." The voice was cheery and unbothered as Flint entered the antique shop and closed the door behind him. He caught sight of Duncan crouching by the unmoving Tessa and stopped dead, staring at the little tableau with what Duncan saw as unconvincing shock. "Put the pizza down," Duncan ordered. "Get your sword." Flint blinked. "I beg your pardon?" "You heard me." Duncan shed his coat and gently wrapped the unconscious Tessa in it. Then he picked up his katana from where he'd dropped it. "You may be older than me and probably a better fighter, but that doesn't make any difference. This ends here." Flint's frown deepened. "What are you talking about, Duncan?" "Don't play games any more," Duncan said dangerously. "You let those youths into the shop. You killed them only when they looked like they might shoot me and spoil your fun. You kidnapped Richie and you killed the girl he was with by taking her head just like the burglars. And now you..." His voice wavered for an instant. "...You assaulted Tessa, you bastard. This ends here." Flint's eyes had grown wide as Duncan was speaking. "Duncan, you have it totally the wrong way. You really think I'd do something like that?" Duncan began to edge forward with the katana. "Get your sword. Now." Flint backed away. "Duncan, someone's manipulating you. Manipulating both of us. When I got to the shop that first night I paused to make myself a sandwich in your kitchen. I didn't even know Richie and the burglars were in the shop." "Neat...and not remotely convincing. Your sword. Now." Flint seemed about to refuse for a moment, but then his hand went behind his back and he pulled out the folded doublesword. The blades sprang out and he tossed the pizza to one side just as Duncan sprang forward and the katana swept towards Flint's face. Battle was joined. ...end of part five... =========================================================================