Date: Mon, 25 Sep 1995 18:16:00 +0100 Reply-To: Sascha Regh Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Sascha Regh Organization: S.Regh Subject: From the dawn of time they came Part Two OK, since a few people very quickly decided they wanted more, here's part two. Keep up the encouragement; it makes a good start into the week :-) And please - I just started writing the story, and as much as I would like to do very little else, I am afraid that won't be possible. So if I don't manage to write and send out a part for a few days, please don't mind. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- FROM THE DAWN OF TIME THEY CAME Part Two A few days later. Duncan stepped out of the book shop and looked across the street towards the park when he suddenly felt a buzz - a buzz that felt strange and was pretty easy to recognise. Especially when two bullets right through his heart were associated with it. He looked around. At first he could not make out the man, but then he saw somebody looking towards him at the other side of the road. Just from his appearance he would not have recognised the stranger, because the man had obviously changed his clothes. He was wearing black jeans now, a shirt and a casual jacket, not kid's clothes any more. But he still carried the bag with his sword. He was talking to a bulky woman to whom he said a few words now, she nodded, hugged the stranger briefly and then went surprisingly fast straight away from the Highlander. Duncan crossed the street, and there the stranger waited for him, arms crossed before him. He just looked fiercely at Duncan. For the first time the Highlander was able to see the stranger more clearly. He was almost a head shorter, with dark brown hair that seemed almost black, cut so short that it almost looked like a crew cut, and clean shaven. He had the kind of face you could look at in a crowd and forget immediately afterwards, but for his eyes. They were of a very strange shade of emerald green; and to Duncan they looked like those of a beast of prey ready to jump. The smile that curled the strangers lips now was by no means more reassuring. "Why did you kill Parker? And why did you shoot me?" "Why would you shoot a man that is about to behead you when you are in no state to defend yourself? As for Parker, he died for what he was." Now Duncan looked fiercely as well: "Parker was a good man, I knew him. And why did you kill Jenkins, when you let Joe live." The stranger asked: "Jenkins was the man in the alleyway?" "Yes, and just a watcher like Joe. There was no need to kill him!" Now the strangers smile had turned into a sarcastic grin: "Well, I must have done that just because I am such a bad guy, right?" Then he turned his head, and said: "Well, I have other things to do - friend of Parker" and with these words he moved towards the street. He started to cross it without much regard of the traffic, when Duncan shouted after him: "I am Duncan MacLeod of the clan of MacLeod, and I am going to take your head!" The stranger almost jumped around, and said: "MacLeod? Conner MacLeod???" and he looked at Duncan with big eyes. "No, I am not Conner. My name is Duncan. Conner is a clansman of mine." "Do you know where he is?" Duncan just snorted: "Well, I would hardly tell you, would I?". The stranger looked undecided for a moment, and then he looked straight at Duncan's face: "Well, if you don't want to tell me where he is, the at least warn him. Tell him, if he is not *very* careful, he might loose his head!" and with these words he turned around and continued his way across the street. Duncan shouted after him: "I am sure he is terrified by the thought that you are after him!" but the stranger just went away as if he had not heard him. * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Early the same evening Joe sat in a comfortable chair and could not really bring himself to get up and open the bar, because outside the rain was pouring down, and there would hardly be anybody turning up anyway. He had a book on his lap, but he was not reading. Instead he was recalling the events in the yard again and again. It had been gruesome, but fascinating. He had gone over and over the events again, alone and with Duncan. But there was one thing that did not really fit. When the taller of the two man, Parker, as Duncan had known him, lifted his sword, and the shorter one who had shot Duncan had lifted his arm to stop the blow - was that blow really aimed at the stranger, or at him, and had the stranger risked to be severely wounded to save him? But he had killed Jenkins, or at least Duncan was sure of that, because he had known Parker. And Duncan was usually a good judge of character. And he had shoot Duncan. He got up, realising that he would not come nearer to the solution than the previous days. He could as well do his job and open the bar. If it turned out to be a boring evening he would take his book. An hour later he was yawning. His clothes had dried, but the bar was empty save for a couple that was very busy with themselves. Outside the rain had turned into a full-scale thunderstorm. Then, just when a big thunder crashed so loudly that even the couple was disturbed, the door opened. Somebody wrapped into a dark trenchcoat came inside, a dark hat drawn deeply into his face, a large bag on his back, dripping wet. He shook himself like a dog, then took of the hat. Joe recognised him a moment before the man recognised him. The stranger pulled his shoulders upward and made a movement as if he would walk out again, but at that moment another thunder crashed, and he shrugged his shoulders and turned towards the bar. Joe just stared at him. "Do I get a drink?" the man asked. Joe swallowed, but then caught himself and nodded. "Sure. What would you like?" The man looked at the bottles, but then said "You have something hot, like a tea?" "Sure" Joe said. He noticed the same unobtrusive features Duncan had noticed in the afternoon, and like Duncan, it were the strangers eyes that fascinated him. To him they looked like a sea of liquid emeralds, hiding mysteries kept over centuries over centuries. He put the tea in front of the stranger. The stranger put his hands around the hot glass to warm his numb fingers. Then he put out his wet coat, but the clothes he was wearing were hardly any drier. In jeans and shirt he did not look like a kid any more, but, like many immortals, he seemed to be between twenty-five and thirty. Not that that meant anything with an immortal. "Wet outside, isn't it?" Joe said. He was pretty sure that most people would have been able to think of something more intelligent to open a conversation. "Yes," said the stranger, "quite. Nice place, yours?" "Yes, I brought it some time ago" "Hmmmm" the stranger mumbled and drank his tea. Joe cursed himself. If the conversation kept that pace he would at least know the strangers name in about a weeks time. Behind them a glass shattered on the floor. The couple had thrown it down, but had not realised it, since they were engaging in activities now that would have lifted any movie' rating to 'parental guidance' at least. A smile that looked a bit mischievous appeared on the strangers face and he said "Oh, to be that young again!" and he looked at Joe. Joe smiled back and nodded "Has been quite a while." "What are *you* complaining about?" the stranger said. "Yes," said Joe, "I suppose it has been a while longer with you." "Yes, I think it was." The smile lit up the strangers face, but it was also plain that he was not going to betray any more information. Then the stranger asked: "Did you get home well? Sorry about the stick, but somehow I needed it." "Well, Duncan brought me home, and I had a spare one." "Good." the stranger said. "Duncan is *very* angry with you." "Yes, I met him. He is!" "Oh!" Joe looked puzzled. "He did not tell me you met!" "Well, it was just that afternoon. He seems to think I am *very* bad guy." "Well, are you?" Joe asked. The stranger pulled up an eyebrow and brought his head closer to Joe's and in a growling voice he replied "Why, do you want to find out about it?" Joe just grinned, as did the stranger. Then Joe asked "Say, I did not find anything about you in our archives. Do you have anything like a name?" "Nothing about me? How negligent! I thought you find your information without interviews." He grinned. "Well, I do indeed have a name....." Suddenly he turned around, made a movement towards his bag, but stopped, as the door opened and Duncan came inside. Usually Joe liked to see him, but at the moment he wished the Highlander were back in Scotland. Or on the moon. Everywhere, but not here. "Hello Joe, you don't believe..." Duncan stopped in mid-sentence, and then continued in a much less friendly voice "...whom I have met today!" "Uh, he just told me." Joe said. "Get out of here, at once!" Duncan roared. "Sure, and of course that is you place!" The strangers voice was ice cold now, as was the look in his eyes. Duncan just pulled his coat back a bit, so that the handle of his katana was just visible. The stranger just turned his eyes heavenward. "That's all you can think about, can you?" And to Joe "You have a very peculiar taste in friends." And to the Highlander again "I am not after your head, believe it or not." And with those words he grabbed his coat, put in on again, lifted his bag and walked towards the door. Joe had to shoot an angry look at the Highlander to make him give way to the stranger. Duncan moved towards the bar, making sure that his and the strangers ways did not cross. At the door the stranger turned around and said: "And for your dead friend, maybe you should check the papers from Atlanta from the 20th last month, before you die of grief over him." And with these words he walked out again into the darkness and the pouring rain. Joe poured a glass of Scotch for his friend and placed it in front of him so hard that Duncan looked up in surprise. "But I knew Parker!" he protested. "Besides, all this guy wanted of you was information about Conner!" * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Later that night Joe sat in a comfortable chair at home and turned a baseball cap he had picked up in a dark yard in his hands around and around. Just as his thoughts. s.regh@puti.dinoco.de ## CrossPoint v3.02 ## =========================================================================