Snow Storm by Epona
Table of Contents [Report This]
A great moon shone on a serene forest clearing. All was quiet, and peaceful until am exhausted man broke through the tree barrier and fell to his stomach in the waist high grass. He forced himself to his feet, though he slipped on the snowy ground.
Jarod glanced behind him, his entire being trembling in fear and adrenaline. His hands gripped into tight fists and he broke into a run from his hiding position, and all but through himself behind a fallen log.
He swore to himself for his own clumsiness. Stay an extra day; he had negotiated with himself. Enjoy the view, he had ordered himself. That had been all fine and good until Miss. Parker and Cox had so perfectly interrupted his sleep by kicking in his bedroom door. He had got away by jumping from his second story window into a high snowdrift, and then running into the forest. Bullets had been fired had him. They had tried to shoot him, and that scared Jarod. Oh sure, he always knew one day it would come down to a ‘Move and I’ll shoot’, but he never truly believed that a trigger would be pulled.
Well a trigger was pulled, he thought fiercely to himself, several times and while the gun was aimed at his back. Jarod shivered fervently and curled into a ball. All he wore was a pare of flannel pants. He wasn’t wearing shoes, or socks, or a shirt. God, what he would give to be in the Sahara right now. He had very little time to contemplate his poor choice of locations as Miss. Parker, Cox and Sam came onto his clearing.
They walked slowly their guns drawn. Parker looked in his direction several times but never noticed him. After circling the clearing once, she suddenly dropped her arms to her sides and looked to the sky.
"Damn it!" She yelled loudly, her voice echoing into the night. Startled, an owl burst into flight.
"Pity." Murmured Cox.
"Oh shut up, Cox. We’ll get Jarod eventually."
"Actually," The man informed, motioning to the owl, which was nothing more then a black dot in the sky, "I have in my possession a collection of rare owls. I don’t have that particular species."
"God you’re a freak." She murmured, as she watched the man examine the owl. "Let’s go back to the car. Jarod won’t be going far in his pajama’s."
Cox nodded, and they two started back towards the break in the dreams. Jarod sighed inaudibly and weakened in relief. He waited until they were gone before he rolled over to get up, but as he did his body weight shifted over a rotting piece of wood. A very loud crack echoed in the silence.
As one, the three formers came back into the clearing, with their guns aimed on the tree stump. Miss. Parker jogged forward, and when she rounded the rotting wood, there was Jarod laying shivering.
"Get…up." She ordered, her gun trained on his stomach.
"Thought you were going back to the car." He managed as he got to his feet.
"Put your hands behind your back, Jarod." Miss. Parker snapped and he heaved a sigh and obeyed. Sam pulled steel silver handcuffs from his coat pocket and slapped them around the pretender’s wrists before grabbing his left arm and hauling him from the clearing.
Sydney stood, leaning against the car with Broots beside him. The car was in a small driveway beside a pleasant looking cottage where, earlier Parker and Cox had found Jarod. The last Sydney had seen them, they were chasing the half naked man into the forest in the middle of December. Sydney wouldn’t be surprised if his protégé came down with pneumonia.
"Shut up, and move it Jarod." Miss. Parker snarled from the woods. Sydney’s pulse began to race. Soon the Hunters emerged with their prey. Jarod was literally blue and shaking with cold.
"Broots, go into the house, and get the man some clothes, and a blanket." Ordered Sydney as he took a step towards Jarod. Miss. Parker, with her hand clutching the formers arm in a punishing grip intercepted Sydney.
"Don’t you dare Sydney." She snapped as she maneuvered Jarod towards the open car door. Sam opened the opposite door and got in without a word. "Where’s Broots?"
"Inside, getting clothes for Jarod."
"How nice." Drawled Miss. Parker as she scanned the front yard. "Nice little place you got here Jarod." She slammed the man against the side of the car and he grunted as his body made solid contact with the ice cold metal.
"Where are the DSA’s?" Silence was her answer, and she pulled him back and slammed him into the car again.
"God dammit Jarod, tell me where are they?"
Jarod gritted his teeth and growled his first sign of defiance. "Do you honestly think I would tell you, Parker?"
"I don’t know." Murmured Cox as he reached into his pocket retrieving a switchblade, and bringing the blade from its hiding place with an elaborate flick of the wrist. "Pain has a habit of making people talk. Didn’t you do a SIM on that, Jarod?"
Jarod pulled away slightly, trying not to blanch as Cox moved toward him, the knife reflecting the moonlight menacingly.
***
"Sydney," Yelled Broots as he rounded the corner of the house, a bundle of clothes in his hands,
"I…" he stopped both in speech and movement as he saw the tension and the situation. However, before anyone could say anything Cox placed the blade back in its sheathe, and replaced the knife in his coat.
"Something to think about." He smiled, his eyes drilling into Jarod’s soul.
"Give me those." Parker snapped as she pulled the bundle from Broots’ arms. Without a word, Jarod was uncuffed and had a thick sweater pulled over his head, then recuffed. There was a little hesitation with the pants, but he somehow managed to get into some faded blue jeans with a fair degree of privacy. Without further word, Parker pushed him into the limo. Jarod sat between Cox and Sam, with Miss. Parker and Sydney facing him on the opposite of the expensive prison. Another sweeper and Broots sat in the front, with maps strewn across the dash. Without word, the ignition was started and they pulled from the driveway.
"The sweet taste of victory…" Muttered Miss. Parker to herself, a frown playing on her features as she watched Jarod shift uncomfortably beside Cox and Sam. He returned her gaze steadily before placing his head on the back of the seat, starring at the top of the car. He twisted and glanced at the fading form of his house and could feel the nervousness creep into his stomach. He couldn’t return to the Centre again.
"It appears your getting sloppy, Jarod." Spoke Cox as he turned and stared at the pretender. "Brought back to the Centre twice in several months."
"Brought back?" Asked Jarod in a pondering tone. "You put such a pretty label on kidnapping, Cox."
"Call it whatever you wish Jarod. You wouldn’t have had to be ‘Brought back’ at all if you hadn’t been so persistent in escaping from the safety of the Centre."
"There you go again." Jarod affirmed without taking his gaze from the ceiling. "The Centre is not a safe place to be. More people have vanished there then in the Bermuda Triangle. I know. I’ve looked into it."
Sydney sighed and watched Jarod. His protégé was trying to hide it, but Sydney could see the telltale signs of stress, fear, and exhaustion. The older man hid his frown of worry, least Cox see him. It had taken ever ounce of him to stay still as the deadly man has approached Jarod with the knife.
***
The drive was long and tedious. Broots and the sweeper argued about which was the right way to the Border, and Miss. Parker complained constantly about her hatred of Canada. Apparently, gas prices were insanely high in Delaware and surrounding areas. Over the last week the Centre’s jets and private planes had been grounded so it looked like Jarod was going to have to sit through the entire road trip with the group of his biggest fans. That would have been fine until Cox pulled the syringe.
Jarod eyed the man warily. It was three hours into the journey, and Jarod wasn’t exactly sure where they were. Cox had pulled a black suitcase from under the seat and then had removed a syringe and a small glass vial marked with an orange sticker.
"What’s that?" Jarod demanded in a cautious tone.
"Well," Said Cox in his usual voice which was both angering, and frightening, "Something to help you sleep."
"I don’t want to sleep." Jarod said flatly, as he turned towards the man with his hands slightly in front of him and his back partially to Sam. "In fact, I like being awake just fine."
Cox held the needle between two fingers with his thumb on the end of the plunger.
"Jarod," he said in that maddening tone, "I would hate to have to force this on you."
Jarod looked at the man, and the tension noticeably rose several notches in the limo before the pretender obediently rolled up his sleeve and presented it to the man. He winced as the needle slipped into his arm, and he grimaced as the warm liquid flooded into his system.
"And here I thought I was going to have to get Sam to help." Cox said as Jarod world began to grow dark.
"Not to quote Shakespeare," Jarod mumbled as his tongue quickly became thick and useless, "Our enemies have led us to a pit. ‘Tis better we jump in ourselves then to have our enemies push us. Or… something like that." He mumbled as the world tilted and faded black.
***
Parker watched as Jarod suddenly slumped forward. Sam stopped the man’s fall and positioned him away from injury. She carefully checked all emotion from her face as she scanned the prone man’s features. He was so innocent, and so charming. She frowned and watched the back window, noticing the snow.
The drive was uneventful without Jarod’s conscious presence, actually. No one had to worry about him pulling an escape act, and no tensions were pulled with his skillful fingers. It was around the next evening when Parker couldn’t take the car any more and ordered the sweeper to pull into the first hotel he came across.
The roads were getting greasy with the snow and ice when inally a hotel named the Payzant Nighter came into view. Parker ordered Broots to go and get two rooms adjacent to each other and then she began to wring her hands. It was times of stress like this that she began to regret quitting smoking.
"Not to be the bearer of bad news," Announced Cox as he laid Jarod’s arm down, "But our pretender will be with us soon. Perhaps we should get him inside?"
"Nervous Cox?" Sneered Miss. Parker as she clambered for the door.
"Of course not." The man parried as he stepped out beside her with Sam hauling the motionless pretender from the opposite door, "But you will have a hard time explaining it to the local authorities if they happen to come across him. Just a thought."
Miss. Parker glanced around the small parking lot through the falling snow and growled as she shivered, "Of all the places to stop, we stop dead center of HickVille. Population? Well let’s see, there’s the Hotel clerk, Cox, Sydney, Broots, Robin, Sam and I. Oh yes, and Jarod. That is seven people, in a town called…" She snapped her fingers to the nervous technician at her side, "Broots?"
"Moose Town, Miss. Parker."
"Perfect…" She murmured with a sarcastic smile.
"Well lets get sleeping beauty inside, shall we?"
As it turned out, Broots booked two rooms adjacent to each other, and accessible through a door. Each had a television, a queen size bed with ugly yellow sheets, a bathroom, and a complimentary basket of Disney videos. Broots had snagged a couple of fold up beds for himself, Sam and the other sweeper, Robin. Parker had claimed one room to herself, had ordered Cox to a lazy chair, and Sydney to a faded yellow sofa.
Jarod, as it turned out, was thrown rather unceremoniously on the bed and the handcuffs were wrapped around a rung in the headboard, and then re-snapped tightly around Jarod’s wrists.
"What the hell do they have to eat here? Are we going to have to eat raw fish?" Moaned Miss. Parker in a state of despair. Still two days from the Canadian/States border. She had heard gruesome stories of people getting snowed in for days in small rural towns, and starving to death. If worse got to worse, she could kill Cox. She grinned suddenly to herself. Best meat’s in the rump.
"Something amusing, Parker?" Asked Cox in a pleasant tone as he grabbed a tattered magazine of Horses and Hounds and settled himself into his chair with the black suitcase by his side.
"Not at all." She smirked.
***
The first thing that Jarod was really aware of was a horrific loud howling. Did he leave the window open? His thoughts were foggy and useless but slowly the memories of the former night’s occurrences filtered back into his mind. After the howling-which after time Jarod pinpointed as the wind-came the insistent and meaningless drone of a television set. A television?
Jarod experimentally opened his left eyes and stared directly into the side of a small table. He then noticed that he was on his side and without word he rolled over onto his back. He tried to move his hands to get more comfortable, but he instantly felt the restraint of handcuffs.
"Welcome back Jarod." Piped a familiar voice. Jarod craned his head to the left and to the source of the voice and saw Sydney sitting on a lumpy yellow couch, several of his books in his lap.
"There ought to be a law against that color." Jarod whispered while trying to get accustomed to talking again. "That couch is sinful."
Sydney laughed and nodded as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "How are you feeling, Jarod?"
"My head hurts…" The pretender murmured softly, and all most accusingly at the older man, but Sydney didn’t flinch.
"Yes, I thought it would. It’s an after effect of the drug Cox gave you. The good news is that the effect won’t last long, so it should be gone by tomorrow morning. The bad news is that the pain will intensify until it does."
"How much will it intensify?" Asked Jarod in a cautious tone.
"I have advil handy, if that answers your question. However from what Cox told me, you will need something a little stronger which he has with him."
Jarod resumed his place on his back and sighed. That probably meant that he was going to be in agony in several hours. Jarod knew without a fraction of a doubt that it was meant to keep him manageable. He was in handcuffs, what the hell did Cox think he could possibly do? It also meant that Jarod was going to have to be given more drugs, more needles and would soon be feeling like he was on morphine. That was just what he didn’t need, and Cox knew it.
"Lovely..." Jarod murmured to himself softly.
"Well look who’s awake." Miss. Parker smiled triumphantly as she sauntered from the room. Jarod looked past her to the window. It was dark, and snowing viscously. Jarod ignored the woman who had taken the role of hunter in his life and then shifted his position on the bed.
Sydney caught the air before it could fall to battle fire. "Miss. Parker, where is Broots?"
"Getting something for us to eat." She said without taking her eyes off of Jarod. Jarod was lying perfectly still, his eyes closed and his head tilted back ever so slightly with a grimace on his face. "What’s wrong with the Genius?"
"After effects of the tranquilizer Cox gave him." Sydney supplied. "So what’s Broots getting?"
"I don’t know. Probably some of that fast food crap from the kitchen. Did you know that the hotel currently has 28 other people in it?" She asked in general curiosity and amazement. "I didn’t think there were that many people within 300 miles of this rat hole."
***
Twenty minutes later, all of the participants in the great race known as ‘Chase Jarod’ were gathered in the room with Jarod and Sydney. Each had their own supper that they were entertaining themselves with. Cox even went so far as to allow Jarod his hands, though still handcuffed, for eating.
"Broots I can’t believe you actually paid for this." Miss. Parker marveled as she lifted a forkful of yellow slop that passed as corn.
"I paid for it, with your credit card." The man agreed as he took another overflowing spoonful of soup.
"I don’t know Miss. Parker," Sydney said carefully as he sipped from his cup, "This isn’t that bad."
"Its not that bad," Agreed Cox, "Its horrible." He placed his fork on his plate, and laid the plate on the floor without further word. "Your choice in food is less then satisfactory, Mr. Broots."
Suddenly the conversation was interrupted by the very loud crash of a plate shattering against the floor. All eyes turned to the source of the noise, and Sam’s gun was even drawn. Jarod lay on the bed, his hands at his temples and his face twisted in agony.
"What the hell did you give him Cox?" Demanded Parker, as she stood. Sydney was already beside Jarod, trying to get the younger man to lay back on the bed, but the man was less than cooperating.
"I told you the after effects would be painful." Cox supplied casually as he reached for his black case. The man stared at the writhing pretender a moment before opening the case and retrieving a bottle marked with a red sticker and syringe. The man took his time filling the needle, and tapping the air bubbles out of it before he approached the pretender.
"Sam?" Prompted Cox. The sweeper moved forward and cuffed Jarod’s hands around a rung of the headboard. Cox pulled Jarod’s sleeve out of the way and administered the shot in his shoulder, all the while the pretender was fighting the man, and twisting in pain.
It seemed like an eternity before Jarod ceased his movements. His chest heaved quickly, up and down, and his face was coated in a fine sheen of sweat. Parker crossed her arms and stared at the pretender, and then suddenly rounded of Cox.
"If he died, the Board-"
"He would not have died, Miss. Parker." The man said in a powerful tone that was steady and quiet. "I know what I’m doing."
Miss. Parker gave the man a look over, and opened her mouth to give Cox a very thorough verbal beating before Sydney interrupted smoothly.
"Perhaps it would be best if Jarod was left alone to … calm down." The psychologist was extremely careful to use a term that would not point a finger at Cox in any way.
"Your right Syd. Cox? Broots?" She looked at the two men, and then vanished into her room. Like puppy dogs, Cox, Broots, Sam and Robin followed her, the door shutting behind them. The very loud hum of a television came into life.
Sydney stood and cleaned the mess the other’s had left him with, all the while keeping a very close look on Jarod. The Pretender’s breathing had slowed somewhat, and his face was buried in the sweater of his right arm. Jarod’s entire frame was trembling from the former pain. When Sydney was done, he retrieved his seat on the couch beside Jarod’s bed and pulled a book, waiting for his protégé to recover.
***
There was pain, and then there was pain. The pain that he had experienced at suppertime had come slowly from the recesses of his chest. First he thought he could handle it, but then a lancing pain had ripped through his head again, and again leaving him struggling to breathe through the waves of the hot, furious pain. He had never felt anything like it, and it was something he did not care to repeat.
When Jarod finally fought to full awareness he was still on the bed and everything was very quiet. He shook his head gently, and was relieved when he wasn’t rewarded with agony.
Again, Jarod found himself on his side. He reclaimed him place on his back and then looked for signs of life. Firstly, he saw Sydney asleep on that ugly couch, then he found Sam sleeping in a chair beside the door. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Broots sleeping on a fold-up bed by the wall that separated his room and Miss. Parker’s. The morning light shone through the windows, through a blur of white.
Jarod’s full senses came to him, and his heart began to pound. He twisted around and got a good look at the handcuffs that held him to the bed. If he would get out of these damned things, then he could maybe go out the window. No, not those windows, too small. How about the door? Only if I want to get shot by Sam, he thought to himself silently.
Take a hostage? Fake the flu? How about unconsciousness? No, that wouldn’t work. They would cart him back to the Centre and deal with him there. Amnesia? No, Genius. No matter how strong the medicine was, you wouldn’t have lost your memory. What he if called the clerk? …And tell him what? No matter what he told him, in order for it to be of use to Jarod, the clerk’s life would be in danger. Call the police? No, that was certainly out. The Centre had contacts out here. In fact Jarod had the sneaking suspicion that that is how they found him.
Jarod shifted and his arm twisted uncomfortably. He grunted in pain and saw Sydney stir out of the corner of his eye. The pretender froze, and he was unsure why. The older man shook himself awake and saw his protégé watching him warily.
"Jarod, your up." Sydney whispered loudly, "Parker was just about ready to shoot Cox, and let her father sort it out later."
"Why are we still here?" Demanded Jarod.
"The storm outside is horrible."
He had forgotten about the storm. Could that be of use to him?
"Then why do we still have the power?"
"Generator."
"Oh."
Sydney didn’t comment on it, but he thought he could detect a note of disappointment in Jarod’s tone. Sydney watched the younger man for a moment and then tried to strike up a conversation.
"How is your head?
"Better, I suppose."
Sydney stayed silent, looking at the younger man on the bed. Jarod was obviously suffering a fair amount of stress. How would he deal with the switch from freedom to captivity, again?
"Penny for your thoughts, Syd?" Jarod questioned softly as he resumed his position on his back. Sydney ignored Jarod’s question and returned to examining the man.
"Any headache, or chest pains Jarod?"
"You know Sydney," The pretender stated irritably, "I’m a Doctor. I can be. If I felt something was wrong, I would probably bring it to your attention."
Instead of commenting, Sydney repeated his former question.
"I feel fine." Mumbled the pretender in an almost sulking tone as he regarded the ceiling.
"Hungry?"
"No." Came the flat reply. Sydney shrugged absently and returned to his book. Moments later a rather startling clanking averted Sydney’s attention back to Jarod. The man was twisted around and giving his handcuffs a very thorough once-over.
"If Cox catches you Jarod, he just may administer another dose."
"I’m not trying to get away Sydney," The pretender protested, looking at the man over his handcuffed arms, his eyes shining with a childish innocence, and youth. "I am trying to see what brand these are."
"How about you lay back on the bed, Jarod." Came Miss. Parker’s smooth, cutting tone. Jarod looked towards the doorway to her bedroom, and there she stood with her arms crossed.
"Good morning Miss. Parker." Came Jarod’s cheerful reply as he lay back onto the bed carefully. "How was your supper?"
"Horrible." She stated as she walked over to the man, inspecting his restraints. They held firm. "In fact, it was horrible the last two nights I’ve been here."
Jarod looked at Sydney sharply, his eyes registering shock.
"You failed to mention that I have been unconscious for over 24 hours, Sydney." Jarod exclaimed through clenched teeth, a sudden fear rippling through his system. If he was out that long, what would the medical implications be?
"You failed to ask." Sydney parried with a tone becoming quickly aggravated. Jarod sensed this and suddenly fell silent. Sydney reached over and flicked on the radio and fiddled with the dials.
"Well folks, if you have looked outside lately, you don’t need me to tell you it’s a blizzard-"
"Gee Jarod," Commented Parker dryly, "Better watch out. This guy is stealing your intellectual thunder." She was rewarded with a loud ‘shhh’ from Sydney.
"- Needless to say, all schools in the Moose Town, Payzant, and Beaver Crossing are closed-"
"Ye-s!" exclaimed Jarod suddenly. At the weird look from Sydney he explained, "Sorry, force of habit. I was an English teacher four days ago."
"-But the storm will be clearing tonight. The plows should be by through the night, so you young ones expect school to be on tomorrow. Now, here is a little music from the Elvis collection-" Without further word, Parker yanked the cord from the wall. She waved the plug at Jarod, half tauntingly.
"Well buddy, hear that?"
"I heard." He murmured, all humor gone from his face.
"And if you try and play hooky-" She trained off, the threat in her voice extremely clear.
***
The next few hours traveled by without any real special occasions until Cox came back from the Common room in the hotel. Before his appearance everyone was calmly waiting out the storm, Jarod still handcuffed to the bed despite his arguments.
Cox walked back in through Parker’s room, his shoulder’s white with snow, as well as his hair. Jarod could feel tension rise instantly. What had happened while he was unconscious?
Parker ignored Cox all most completely, Sydney kept his attentions on Jarod. Broots and Robin found their way out of the room, and Sam seemed neutral to Cox all together.
"How are you feeling, Jarod?" Asked Cox pleasantly as he removed the handcuffs and took his seat on the lazy boy at the foot of Jarod’s bed.
"I feel fine." Jarod resisted wedging in a ‘now’ onto the end of his sentence.
"That’s good." Nodded Cox. "The storm is letting up."
"I know."
"You’re going to be going back to the Centre soon, Jarod."
"I know that too."
"How does that make you feel, I wonder?"
"Isn’t Sydney the psychiatrist?" While Jarod spoke, the aforementioned man shifted uncomfortably in his chair, keeping a wary eye on Cox.
"Yes, in fact Sydney, Parker and I have been debating on your future."
So that’s why everyone seems so uncomfortable. Now I’m feeling nervous, Jarod mused to himself.
"Really now?" Jarod asked placidly, looking uninterested.
"Yes, really. Now I believe that we should administer more drugs, Sydney believes we should remove the handcuffs, and Parker-"
"-Believes that she can handle it." Sneered the woman, as she paced the room. Something was wrong.
"Yes." Agreed Cox, "That’s what Parker thinks. Now tell me Jarod, how do you feel about going back to the Centre?"
"…Isn’t the answer a little obvious?" Asked Jarod. He scanned the blank face of Cox. No emotions were held in the man’s eyes, and it gave Jarod the chills. The pretender and Cox locked eyes, before the man turned to the window.
"It’s getting dark. I think I will get some shut eye." The man supplied casually as he fell into the chair that was his bed for their period in the motel.
"Jarod?" Sydney murmured from the man’s left. Jarod craned his head to regard Sydney. The older man held out a cup of chocolate milk to the pretender and Jarod laughed.
"Chocolate milk?"
"Yes." Sydney said firmly. Jarod couldn’t be sure, but he thought there was the fraction of a pause. Sydney gave the small Dixie cup to Jarod and the pretender downed the creamy liquid in one gulp.
As Jarod lowered the glass, he heard a startled exclamation from Sydney. Jarod turned his head and saw Sydney all most falling from the chair, his hand extended.
"Jarod!" Came Sydney’s sharp voice, "You aren’t supposed to drink it that quickly!"
"Its chocolate milk Syd, Not Vodka."
"No, Jarod you don’t understand-" Before Sydney could continue he was interrupted by a strange look on his protégé’s face. Jarod had suddenly became very lightheaded and drowsy, and he looked at Sydney accusingly before he felt his world tip and grow dark.
***
"-Can’t believe you did it." Came a loud, irritated voice. Jarod was slowly awakened, and the first voice he heard, he recognized as Parker’s. Slowly, the rest of Jarod’s senses came to him. The soft surface under him was shaking and trembling. Then the sound of a motor caressed Jarod’s ears and it didn’t take long for the pretender to realize that he was in a car. Jarod’s heart sank.
The bickering continued. "It was either that or Cox’s drug."
"He drank the whole thing, Sydney."
"He’s been out for a long time." Came the hushed voice of Broots.
"He wasn’t supposed to drink the whole thing." Sydney offered in a defending tone. "How was I supposed to know he liked chocolate milk that much? He never left me any indication whatsoever-"
"Can it Sydney." Parker cleaved evenly. A sudden thought struck Jarod. How was he going to pretend to come around in a way that didn’t make it appear obvious that he had been eavesdropping?
God answered for Jarod, as something made the Driver hit the brakes. Jarod’s momentum pulled him off of the seat and he rolled over, hitting the floor of the car with an unforgiving thud.
"Jarod!" Sydney yelled in alarm. Not so much to Jarod as to warn whoever was keeping him in his seat that he was in harm’s way.
"That… hurt." The pretender grumbled through gritted teeth. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, and was pulled back into the car seat. "Seatbelts were made for a perfectly good reason."
"You’re awake." Parker stated in a monotone.
Jarod nodded in a curt, affirming tone. "Stating the obvious is your strong point."
"Don’t start." Came a smooth and warning reply.
"You’re obviously cranky. You know what will fix that up? Sleep. You will notice that I’m not cranky, and that’s because I have been sleeping a lot over the last several days. Now, how many days was that Syd.?"
"Jarod-" Sydney started with a sigh, but was interrupted as Jarod continued.
"Nevermind, it doesn’t matter."
They drove in silence for a while longer, until they reached the Trans-Canada. Jarod craned his neck to see out of the windshield and frowned for no apparent reason.
"What are you looking at Jarod?" Questioned Sydney, taking in the look of worry on the man’s face.
"The roads. They look bad."
"They’re fine." Snapped the driver.
"No. They look bad. Maybe even black ice." Repeated Jarod carefully.
"But the roads are fine Jarod-" Started Sydney in puzzlement at Jarod’s conclusion. No sooner had the words come from his mouth, then did the driver turn the steering wheel all the way to the right and slammed on the brakes. The squeal of tires and the loud ‘snap’ that followed as the car gently rolled off the road, and down into a grassy clearing sent the passengers of the car slamming around the compartment.
"What the hell was that for, you moron?" Snarled Miss. Parker as she pulled off her seat belt and turned around, facing the driver.
"I don’t know. I guess the roads do have black ice." The man mumbled in confusion.
"Well get the car started again." Snapped Cox.
The sweeper turned the key, and nothing happened. Jarod placed a hand over his mouth as he began to laugh loudly in the silence.
"You." Growled Parker lowly as she turned around in her seat. "This is your fault. Now you get your ass out there are fix it."
"It has to be ten degrees below zero Miss. Parker." Jarod defended himself in an alarmed tone. "Not a chance."
***
Jarod pried the hood of the car open and carefully looked over the engine. Miss. Parker, Cox and the sweepers all stood by, rubbing their arms and trying to rid themselves of the biting cold. Frowning, this time in genuine concern, the pretender looked at the parts and bent over, peering at odds and ends.
"Hurry up, lab rat." Snarled Parker.
Jarod paused, before he turned and smiled at the woman devilishly. "Miss. Parker, are you wearing pantyhose by any chance?"
Miss. Parker paused, not sure is she heard him right before she spoke lowly, and dangerously. "What?"
"Panty hose. Are you wearing them?"
"What the hell are you? A sex fiend?"
"Answer the question." Jarod replied politely.
"Yes, Jarod. I am wearing pantyhose." Parker snapped as she looked over his shoulder, eyeing all of the cars streaming by.
"Take them off." He parried innocently.
"Did you hit your head in your INDUCED accident? You DO realize who you’re talking to, right?"
"Miss. Parker," Replied Jarod as he leaned against the bumper, smiling at her. "The fan belt has been severed in two. Now, you can either flag down cars and collect shoelaces for the rest of the day, or you can give me your panty hose."
Miss. Parker stood there for a moment before she went to the car and wrenched the door open. She was growling and muttering obscenities under her breath until she finally advanced on Jarod, and handed him the garments.
"You should get back in the car, and let us man-folk handle this." Tested Jarod as he bent back to the engine. "You’re probably cold without these." The pretender waved the leggings at the aggravated woman as he looped, tied, looped, tied and pulled.
"I hate you." She growled lowly.
"I don’t doubt that." Jarod said pleasantly as he slammed the hood down and was escorted back to the car.
***
The sign of a gas station appeared on the horizon and just in time. From the long, tired groan of the fan belt, the pantyhose would be soon ineffective. Cox turned to Jarod and spoke in a very calm voice.
"Jarod, I am a clever man and I know what I can expect from you at this station."
"Can you now?"
"Yes. And if you so much as look sideways at these people I will make it so none of them are ever heard from again."
Jarod fell into a stony silence, his eyes sparking in anger and his lips pressed into a thin white line. The car pulled into the gas station and stopped just as there was a loud ripping sound and the car gave up its desperate struggle.
"Hi there." A young and chunky gas attendant came over to the car and leaned into the open driver’s window. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Fan belt. We need a new fan belt." Smiled Miss. Parker, putting on her very best face.
I hate this place. She seethed inwardly, and added extra charm to her expression. All of the personal in the car clambered out, and Cox stood beside Jarod as the car was pulled into the service station.
"You folks may want to go for a bite to eat, we may be a while."
"Where?" Jarod piped before anyone could refuse the offer.
***
Fifteen minutes later, the ensemble stepped into a small and clean diner. Sam ushered Jarod into a booth, where Sydney soon joined him.
"What do you want, wonderboy?" Hollered Miss. Parker over her shoulder as she stood in front of the counter. Jarod remained stubbornly silently until Miss. Parker growled to the attendant, "Lord, just a water than."
Moments later, all the people considered were in two booths. Jarod sat silently, his water untouched. He knew that sooner or later, he would be back in the Centre. He could be as playful as he liked but he knew, and he guessed that Sydney knew, that he was trying to relieve stress.
Stress. Jarod’s lips pulled into a half-attempted smile. After four years on the run, you would think he had met every kind of stress possible. This was simply not so. This was a whole new ballgame. Between Cox, and Parker he was having a hard time not breaking down. He had broke down before, and that was at the Centre. Lyle had had a hand in that. That man had his hand in a lot of things. His brother’s death, his death, his torture… You would think he would learn to keep his hand out of the cookie jar after he lost his thumb. Lyle never was very bright, for a psychopath.
He suddenly became aware that Miss. Parker was talking to him. He turned his head to look at her, his eyebrows furrowing together, and a false smile dancing back onto his face.
"Back with us?" Questioned Cox with soft, and very false concern in his voice.
"If I had left," Jarod said as he lifted the glass of water, "I would have never came back. Isn’t that what this is all about?"
"Some bad storm last night, huh?" Asked the waitress as she brought the order to their table. "Worst we’ve seen ‘round these parts in a good 30 years."
"And how wonderful that we are here to catch it." Said Miss. Parker with a sneer and she glanced sideways at Jarod.
"Can I get you guys anything else?" The Waitress practically squeaked in a chipper tone. Jarod raised his hand slightly, catching her attention.
"Yes, uh… Wendy is it?" He said as he read her nametag, "I would like a plate of fries, and a hamburger please. Nothing on the hamburger and a bottle of ketchup."
"Sure thing, handsome." She said with a wink. Before anyone could comment she was gone.
"Hungry, Jarod?" Seethed Parker as she ripped her glance from the uppity waitress to her prey.
"I just don’t like the idea of other people, especially you Cox, around my food. Once burned…" His tone trailed off with a false smile to the people across from him.
About an hour, and several orders later, Jarod finally tossed down his napkin, finished. The other people had been watching him for about 40 minutes as he ate what he had on his plate, ordered more, and then ordered once again.
"High metabolism." He had explained with a grin.
Miss. Parker snorted and stood. "This is our last stop until we get to the border, so go have your bathroom break now." Without further word, she maneuvered her way to the cash register.
Jarod stood and took a step towards the bathroom and gritted his teeth as Sam followed after him. The bathroom was down a narrow hall, and much to Jarod’s pleasure, beside a large EXIT door.
Sam pulled the gun from his waistband and motioned to the bathroom door. Jarod smiled slightly as he pushed open the single person bathroom and shut the door behind him. Jarod locked the door and began to look around wildly. He needed out. The bathroom itself had no windows or other doors. Not even a large vent. Just a toilet, a sink, and a trash can. Jarod went to the sink and turned on the tap as he continued to think over his options. It came down to the door outside the bathroom.
***
Sam knocked on the bathroom door as he looked down the hallway. Cox, Robin and the others were all waiting by the door.
"Come on." Called the sweeper with a grunt and obediently the door opened. Sam lifted his head expecting to see Jarod but was greeted with a soapy fist being smashed into his face. Sam grabbed at his eyes, temporarily blinded. Jarod shoved past him and slid across the hallway, slamming into the door. The door swung open with a loud smash and Jarod jumped off the small case of stairs at the same time Sam hollered for Robin.
Jarod took off towards the woods, wiping his wet hand on his shirt. A gunshot rang loudly in the stillness as the pretender reached the tree line. A loud crack to his left singled that the bullet had lodged itself into a tree. Well. That was better than his back.
"Jarod!" Yelled Parker as she ran into the woods in hot pursuit, her gun drawn. "Sam, go left. Robin, right."
Without turning his head, Jarod continued his headlong flight into the bush. Another shot rang out, but it was obviously a warning shot.
A little late for that. Mused the man as he vaulted over a dead log. Suddenly, a warm thrill began to tingle up his torso. He was going to make it. Not to dampen Jarod’s enthusiasm, but God, or Fate or both had plans other than escape for Jarod.
As Jarod burst through the tree line, he actually had to pull his feet out from under him to stop from running into a large chain link fence. Jarod cursed under his breath, and looked around wildly. The fence was thrice his height, and the links were too small for him to grip. Jarod looked left and right, and the fence continued on into the bush.
"Stop! Jarod, stop or I will shoot!" Sam yelled to Jarod’s left. The man turned around quickly and saw Sam coming from the trees, his hands on his gun. Robin burst from the trees to Jarod’s right and the man panicked.
The man who was once again the hunted turned to run back the way he came, but Sam was on him before he could move. With Robin covering him, Sam tackled Jarod into the snow and tried to get the man under control.
Miss. Parker jogged up as Jarod was thrown to the ground and she kept her gun trained on him, standing in a firing stance. Cox came behind her and Sydney behind him.
Sydney moved in front of Miss. Parker, watching his protégé fight in panic. Jarod and Sam were having nothing short of a wrestling match on the forest floor, but for Jarod this meant life or death.
"Jarod!" Yelled Sydney to his struggling protégé just as the pretender was struck across the face with a punishing blow from Sam. Momentarily stunned, Sam took advantage of the time to maneuver Jarod onto his stomach, and then the sweeper snapped steel cuffs around his wrists.
Jarod was taken back to the road. Miss. Parker had sent Broots to the service station earlier, so the car was waiting. The Pretender was pushed into the vehicle, with the sweepers and entourage in fast pursuit.
"Now Jarod." Said Cox with a smile as the younger man was forced to his seat, and as the car sped away, "I told you I was a clever man."
"Well by God, you deserve a cookie." Snapped Jarod as he shook the wet hair away from his eyes.
"You’re a funny man, Jarod. In your time away from the Centre you have acquired humor. I wonder how long it will take to rid you of that vice?"
Jarod stayed silent. The pretender didn’t know Cox that well, but he knew a threat when he heard one. Right now, Jarod just didn’t have the strength to get into a fight.
Later that day, actually early the next morning, the group pulled into a hotel called Swooners, and rented a room. They had been on the road for all most 10 hours, and they were all most to the Canadian border. Once there, several other cleaners who had been previously informed of Jarod’s capture would meet them.
The pretender was too tired to care. He was escorted into the bedroom, tossed onto the bed, handcuffed and left with an exhausted Sydney. Once the door closed Jarod rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling. Could this really be happening?
Sydney took a seat beside Jarod and watched him silently. After a few moments, the door opened and Sam entered.
"Miss. Parker wants to know if you need anything Sydney." The sweeper looked at Jarod as though expecting the pretender to do something.
"No thank you, Sam." Sydney said with a smile and the aforementioned man left without closing the door behind him.
"Jarod?" Sydney asked softly, looking at the man who was feigning sleep.
"What?" Came the mumbled reply.
Sydney opened his mouth to reply, but then coughed slightly. "Try to get some sleep."
Jarod was awakened some time later. It was dark and quiet. Craning his head to the left, he saw Sydney sleeping on a fold up bed, and Sam dozing in front of the door. The light to the next room was on, and he heard hushed voices. Suddenly, the door outside opened and Jarod saw three cleaners enter. What were they doing here?
"Good to see you." Came Cox’s soft voice from the next room. The first cleaner nodded and shut the door behind him, before any more snow could blow into the room.
"Mr. Parker sent us as once he heard." Came a male voice. Jarod squinted in the darkness; "Did you have any trouble with him?"
"He tried to escape." Affirmed Cox as he looked towards the bedroom. Jarod froze on the bed and then closed his eyes. Oblivious to the fact that he was being watched, Cox continued. "Is the transport ready?"
"Yes." Nodded the second cleaner. "Do you think he will need to be drugged?"
Jarod stiffened as Cox nodded. "Probably. The subject doesn’t seem to be too enthusiastic about being retrieved. We can’t take chances with the Canadian authorities."
"When will we be leaving?" Questioned the third cleaner.
"As soon as possible." Said Cox as he entered the bedroom and snapped on the light. Jarod heard Sydney and Sam stir awake and he heard Miss. Parker being roused from the next room.
"What are you doing Cox?" Questioned Sydney, his voice dry and cracked with sleep.
"We are leaving." Came his reply and Jarod felt the man shove him several times. The pretender opened his eyes and gazed up at the man.
"What time is it?" Asked Jarod softly and was not answered by Cox. The man unlocked the handcuffs and pulled Jarod from the bed.
Even though Jarod had been awake, he had been immobile for at least 10 hours for sure, plus the time he had been sleeping, so when Cox pulled Jarod up, the man stumbled. One of the cleaners that had accompanied Cox suddenly lashed out at Jarod with a sharp punch to his stomach. Jarod doubled over and gritted his teeth as his world began to swim. The cleaners pulled him to the first room and pushed him up against a wall. Miss. Parker was pulling on her shoes and watching the going’s on with a careful eye.
"Now Jarod," Said Cox with a grin, "This is something to help you sleep." The man mimicked his earlier words from close to a five days ago as he pulled out a syringe and the bottle marked with an orange sticker.
Even though three cleaners pressed him to the wall, Jarod yelled out his displeasure and fought as best he could. Cox stood by emotionlessly as Jarod struggled against the three men, until he nodded to the largest of the three, which then punch Jarod twice in the stomach until the man was subdued.
Jarod’s sleeve was pulled up and he watched silently as the needle was pushed into his arm. As one, the three sweepers stepped back away from Jarod and the man sprang away. He rubbed his arm and began to sink down to the floor against his will. The last thing he saw before his world tilted and he made solid contact with the floor was Cox’s smile.
***
"I am getting so sick of this." Was Jarod’s first thought as he came back to consciousness. Jarod opened his eyes and … darkness. The man shook his head and blinked several times and than he became aware that he was wearing a hood.
Fear tingled up Jarod’s body as memories of his childhood filtered back to him. If this was some sick idea of a joke, Jarod was going to make someone pay sorely for it. Jarod tried to move and found that his hands were handcuffed behind him. Where-ever he was, was cold, and he was laying on his back. He began to shift around until a hand came across his throat, stilling his movements. He craned his neck and listened very carefully. The car, no not car, … van was stopped and he heard two voices speaking softly.
"…And registration please." There was a pause and then a loud ‘thud’ as something hit the floor of the car. "Could I ask you to step away from the car please, Sir?"
A door was opened and Jarod could see flashes of red and blue through the hood. Muffled, and very far away he could hear a voice demand, "Do you have a permit for that?"
The reply was too muffled for Jarod to hear, but the officer obviously excepted it was moments later the door opened and the car took off. There was a long pause, and a few muttered words, and the hood was pulled off Jarod’s head.
The pretender squinted and saw an upside down Cox, and several cleaners. Jarod shifted and tried to sit up. It suddenly occurred to him that Parker, Broots and Sydney were no where to be found.
"Stay down on the floor Jarod." Ordered a cleaner. Jarod froze and looked up at the man. "And don’t make a sound."
Jarod shifted on the floor and scanned the area of the van. It was dark outside, and storming. "Where are we?"
"I said…" Ground the cleaner, "Stay quiet."
After a few moments of driving, and with all in the van glancing the way they came, the atmosphere relaxed slightly. "Now Jarod." Smiled Cox, "Did you say something?"
"Where are we?"
"We are ten minutes from Home." Smiled Cox as Jarod was gripped with an ice-cold terror that wrenched his stomach.
"Go ahead." Smiled Cox. "Ask it."
"Ask what?"
"Ask the question that you want to ask me, but are afraid too of the answer." Cox paused, and than when he saw Jarod had no intention of uttering the words, he prompted with a grin, "Miss. Parker…?"
Jarod sighed. "Where is everyone else?"
"See Jarod? I know more about you then you know about yourself. Miss. Parker and her entourage have already arrived at the Centre. The local authorities … held us up."
What seemed like seconds later, the van pulled into the Centre gates, and drove up the exceptionally long dive. The van continued and pulled around back before stopping. The driver and cleaners jumped from the van, and Jarod was pulled out. Before he was led to a small door, Jarod caught a glance at the side of the van. It was an armored car.
"Well… that’s a new one." Muttered Jarod as the door was pulled open and he was led into the Centre. The hallway that greeted Jarod was long, with a single light bulb hanging from a long cord on the ceiling, swinging and flickering to a silent music. At the end of the hall, there was an elevator door.
The elevator opened and there stood Lyle with a large smile on his face. The three cleaners stopped at the door, and Cox escorted Jarod into the small elevator with Robin and Sam.
"Welcome home, Jarod!" Smiled Lyle as he cracked the man across the back. Jarod narrowed his eyes and kept his face straight as he felt the elevator go down.
"You know Jarod." Smiled Lyle, "I have yet to thank you for the interesting evening locked in that basement with my sister."
Jarod had kidnapped Lyle a week earlier and locked him in the basement with Miss. Parker. He had threatened Lyle with torture, and electrocution but even know when he was here with him, Jarod didn’t regret it.
The elevator stopped and Jarod caught sight of the SL. SL-24 - Detainment and isolation level. How lovely. Jarod was escorted from the elevator down long darkened corridors and eventually he was led into a small dark room with the only furniture being a table and a chair.
Jarod was placed in the small metal chair, and Lyle sat across from him. "You know Jarod, last time I got to do the entire… torture thing." Lyle grinned and laid his hands on the table. His gloved hand seemed to scream at Jarod that the man had endured pain and liked to give it back. "Well, the board wasn’t pleased and so now we have to do the entire…’interrogation’ thing. I personally like my way better, but even I bow under a higher power."
"And would this higher power have horns and a pitchfork?" Seethed Jarod as the door opened. A man in a white lab coat entered, bring with him a tray and a sweeper.
"Now Jarod, we can do this the easy way, we can do this the hard way – it’s all up to you."
"Decisions, decisions…" Murmured Jarod looking Lyle straight in the eye as sweepers took their places on either side of both men.
"What’s it going to be?" Questioned Lyle softly, a smile on his face as he intertwined his fingers.
"Tell me Lyle," Said Jarod as he shifted in his chair, "What rating would you give the hospitality here?"
"What…?" Asked Lyle, confusion flickering through the man’s eyes even though his face stayed neutral.
"Would you give it thumbs up, or thumbs down?"
Lyle forced a smile on his face as he looked over his shoulder at the Doctor. As the Doctor readied the large hypodermic needle, Jarod caught Lyle’s attention again.
"Do you hitchhike much, Lyle? No?"
"Jarod, you just don’t know when to shut up, do you?"
The pretender smiled at the other man, his face dark and unforgiving. The Doctor moved near Jarod and the men locked gazes. Lyle nodded and the sweepers pulled Jarod from his chair and threw him onto the small metal table. Jarod grunted and kicked out with his feet, but he was unsuccessful. Soon he felt his pants pulled low enough to expose his hip, and several moments later he felt the needle enter his skin.
Jarod’s fighting went into remission a moment as the man made a soft sound of pain, but before he could do anything he was pulled from the table and replaced in the chair.
***
Several hours later, Jarod was hauled to a small cell and tossed in. It was exactly like the cell he had been in the last time he had been back at the center, but this time there was not even a drainage hole. Not that Jarod had the stomach to attempt to escape that particular way again.
The pretender lay on his back, and closed his eyes, his chest heaving up and down and the front of his gray sweater wet with sweat. It just seemed like he had closed his eyes when they came back for him again.
This time it was Sam and Cox who came. The door was opened and Cox’s eyes locked onto Jarod’s, and this time it was Jarod who looked away first. Silently Jarod was led down the hall and to the elevator. Once inside, Sam hit SL [24]. Jarod felt fear grip his stomach, but he refused to let it show.
The door opened once on SL-14 and a short, bald, blind man entered. The elevator door closed and the elevator continued down. The door opened again for the blind man to get off, and just as the doors were closing, Jarod darted out. Stunned, Cox took a step forward, and Sam went for him gun, but Cox found he was handcuffed to the sweeper, and Sam’s weapon was missing.
Jarod, barefoot and tired, started to jog down the hall. He stuck to the shadows, and was especially careful of cameras. It didn’t matter. He knew the Centre like the back of his hand. Moments later the lights shut off, and the emergency lights snapped on as an alarm began to ring.
Jarod stepped into the shadows created by a overhanging staircase, and moments later Lyle, Mr. Parker and Miss. Parker appeared around the corner.
"Where the hell is he?" Growled Mr. Parker, "The Camera’s show nothing."
"We will find him, Daddy." Assured Miss. Parker as they continued walking.
Jarod knew that he had a chance of being discovered, and that the only route to escape lay behind the coming doom. A red emergency light stopped Jarod from moving. Let’s see. Thought Jarod, If I shoot the light, it will either work or it will rickershade off and kill Lyle. Jarod paused a moment before he pulled the gun and shot twice. There was a snap, and than a loud shattering.
Jarod pounced from the shadows and ran to the doorway and he briefly head Lyle start to swear. The pretender pushed past the group and jumped for the door. The door snapped open and than snapped shut. It was a stairwell that faced Jarod now. The pretender took the stairs up three at a time until he came to a door that opened. Jarod was on … SL-17. Jarod began to sprint towards a door and he heard a gun cock behind him.
"You must think you’re pretty smart, huh Jarod?" Demanded Lyle as he approached Jarod from behind. The pretender froze and Lyle paused to speak into a small walkie-talkie. "Yes, SL-17."
Lyle approached Jarod and reached for the man’s hand, but Jarod snapped around, and brought his gun across his hunter’s jawbone. As Lyle sank to the ground, Jarod spat angrily, "I never miss twice."
Jarod began to jog down the hallway, his gun drawn. He heard someone walking up ahead so he melted into the shadows and lifted his gun. Who ever this was, they were going to have to be shot.
As though Satan laughed was in his face, Sydney rounded the corner, and Jarod felt his heart sink. Sydney looked right into Jarod’s eyes and the pretender pounced on the man known as his mentor over his life and instead of shooting him, Jarod effiently knocked him out using a martial arts move that was relatively painless. More or less. Sydney sank to the ground, and Jarod pulled him into the shadows silently. Jarod winced down at the unconscious form of Sydney, and knew that he would be hearing about this from the older man for the rest of his life.
Jarod moved from the shadows and went to the elevator. He watched silently as the numbers moved from SL-24, to SL-17, knowing that the sweepers were on this shuttle. The elevator door opened and Jarod silently slipped in after the sweepers left. Before the door was evening closed, Jarod opened the hatch on the top of the elevator and slipped up, closing the space behind him. Moments later he heard the door open and he saw Sam and Lyle enter through a small crack.
Lyle was holding his jaw, and was cursing in rage. The man lifted his walkie-talkie and spoke into it, "Find him!" There was a pause, "What do you mean you can’t?" There was another pause as Lyle turned purple in rage. "I don’t care! He is here somewhere! Find him or I will make it so they never find your body!"
With a wicked curse, Lyle lifted his gun and fired into the ceiling of the elevator. Jarod went white, as a beam of light from the compartment shot up into the darkness between his legs.
The elevator stopped, and the two hunters left. Once the door closed, Jarod kicked open the hatch and fell into the compartment. There was a female scream and the pretender looked up to see a woman holding a box, and … Broots.
Jarod turned to Broots, lifting the gun. "Lobby, Broots." As the man pressed the button frantically, Jarod and the woman regarded each other. "Who are you?" They demanded in unison.
There was a pause and the woman answered first. "M-my name is Thelma. I’m new here."
The pretender leaned against the side of the elevator, his gun in his hand. Jarod grinned and looked at Broots. "New blood, huh Broots?"
"You don’t look so hot, Jarod." Said Broots in a soft tone. Thelma was cowering in the corner.
"You’re new here?" Jarod asked the woman, ignoring Broots’ statement. She nodded, her face white.
"You won’t be staying… will you?" Jarod asked, with a grin. The woman shook her head fervently. Apparently guns and elevators didn’t mix for her.
"Look at the bright side." Jarod said as he stood up straight. "You haven’t unpacked yet." The woman nodded silently as the door to the lobby opened.
Jarod looked silently at the stretch of room. A reception table, couches, people milling about, and then at the other side of the room there were two large double doors, leading to freedom. Suicide run, or what?
The pretender reached out and grabbed Broots’ arm and hauled the man from the elevator at the same time the doors began to close. "Don’t worry Broots." Jarod said as he began to jog towards the door, keeping the man in tow, "Just smile. Big smiles. Everybody’s happy."
"What are you doing, Jarod?" Asked Broots in a terrified whisper.
"You’re my backup in case…" Jarod tried the doors. Locked. "In case I have to take a hostage."
The elevator they just came out of opened, and Miss. Parker advanced out. Soon, sweepers began to pour into the room. Jarod held Broots tightly to him, knowing full well that Miss. Parker wouldn’t allow the man to be shot.
"Broots… try to look scared." Jarod whispered hotly in the man’s ear as he pulled his gun and placed it on Broots’ temple.
"Try to LOOK scared, Jarod?" Squeaked the tech as his face drained of color.
"Jarod! What are you doing?" Demanded Miss. Parker as she pulled her gun and fell into a firing stance.
"Well here is the thing." Jarod said with a laugh. He tried the doors again, … no luck. "I figure, since I have been kidnapped so many times, now it’s my turn."
"Jarod, we both know you won’t pull that trigger."
The pretender shrugged. "I’m willing to try everything once."
Miss. Parker cocked her gun and narrowed her eyes. "Jarod, I’m warning you…"
"Don’t test me, Miss. Parker." Jarod said simply. Miss. Parker gave Broots an odd look and Broots suddenly ducked at the same time Miss. Parker pulled the trigger. However, Jarod was expecting thing, and he pulled Broots down to the ground as Miss. Parker’s bullets exploded through the glass doors, sending a shower of glass over Jarod and Broots.
Jarod pulled Broots through the glass and began to jog with the man. There were startled yells inside the lobby as sweepers began to take flight in pursuit. The pretender began to try cars until a door opened. Jarod threw Broots into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind him. Floodlights illuminated all most in perfect unison, the inky black parking lot. Jarod’s hand went for the ignition and he all most went limp in relief. The keys were still in the car.
Jarod flared the engine to life and slammed on the gas as bullets began to rain around the car like snowflakes. However, milliseconds later all fire stopped as Mr. Parker yelled furiously at the sweepers. The last thing he wanted was a dead Jarod.
***
Some time later, the car pulled off the road into a dark driveway, and Jarod shut of the ignition. He had lost his hunters about five minutes ago in an intersection. The pretender turned and smiled at Broots who looked faint.
"Thanks Broots." Jarod smiled and moved to get out of the car. The man paused half way out, and tossed Lyle’s gun onto Broots’ lap. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he smiled to Broots. "Make sure Lyle gets that."
With that, Jarod stood and walked into the shadows, without turning back. Broots sat there until a Centre limo pulled up behind him. Headlights illuminated the car and Broots had to cover his eyes. Moments later the passenger door was wrenched open and Broots was pulled out and eye level to a furious Lyle.
"Where is Jarod?" He snarled as Miss. Parker jogged up.
"Lay off…" She snapped as she pulled Lyle’s hands from Broots’ shirt. "Broots, Where is Jarod?"
"He left… went into the woods, over there…" Broots motioned to the general area, and a group of sweepers detached from the cluster to investigate.
"Why didn’t you try to stop him?" Ground Lyle.
"How?"
"The gun you’re holding, you moron!" Growled the infuriated man.
"Oh… Jarod gave this to me, … he said to give it to you the first chance I got."
Lyle grabbed the weapon from Broots and looked at it for a moment before realization flared in his eyes and he looked to the bullet cartridge. Empty.
"Broots, did Jarod fire any bullets after he left the Centre?" Demanded Lyle. Brotos shook his head. And Lyle burst into furious laughter and he looked to the sky.
"What?" Asked Miss. Parker and her brother tossed the weapon to her.
"Empty." Snapped Lyle. "He couldn’t have shot Broots, or you or me or ANYONE … even if he had wanted to." With another unbelieving laugh, Lyle stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked to the car. Miss. Parker stood staring at the gun before following.
***
Three days later, the phone on Sydney’s desk rang. Stopping his conversation with Miss. Parker a moment, he lifted the receiver to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Hello Syd." Came Jarod’s voice. Soft, and hesitant.
"Hello Jarod." Greeted Sydney, something like a smile playing on his face. "How are you?"
"Actually… I called to ask about you. How are you, Sydney?"
"…Fine, I suppose. Why do you ask?"
Jarod was silent a moment before continuing, "I just wanted to make sure you were ok."
"Is this about what you did in the hallway? What was that anyway? Martial arts?"
"Uh huh." Answered Jarod softly, a smile in his voice.
"Its good to see you’re keeping in good shape."
Jarod laughed. "Good Bye, Syd."
Jarod shut his cell phone before Sydney could ask about how he was faring and he turned back to his class. Four rows of five children, all dressed in white robes with belts of varying colors. "All right class, today we are going to learn a special move …"
Jarod glanced behind him, his entire being trembling in fear and adrenaline. His hands gripped into tight fists and he broke into a run from his hiding position, and all but through himself behind a fallen log.
He swore to himself for his own clumsiness. Stay an extra day; he had negotiated with himself. Enjoy the view, he had ordered himself. That had been all fine and good until Miss. Parker and Cox had so perfectly interrupted his sleep by kicking in his bedroom door. He had got away by jumping from his second story window into a high snowdrift, and then running into the forest. Bullets had been fired had him. They had tried to shoot him, and that scared Jarod. Oh sure, he always knew one day it would come down to a ‘Move and I’ll shoot’, but he never truly believed that a trigger would be pulled.
Well a trigger was pulled, he thought fiercely to himself, several times and while the gun was aimed at his back. Jarod shivered fervently and curled into a ball. All he wore was a pare of flannel pants. He wasn’t wearing shoes, or socks, or a shirt. God, what he would give to be in the Sahara right now. He had very little time to contemplate his poor choice of locations as Miss. Parker, Cox and Sam came onto his clearing.
They walked slowly their guns drawn. Parker looked in his direction several times but never noticed him. After circling the clearing once, she suddenly dropped her arms to her sides and looked to the sky.
"Damn it!" She yelled loudly, her voice echoing into the night. Startled, an owl burst into flight.
"Pity." Murmured Cox.
"Oh shut up, Cox. We’ll get Jarod eventually."
"Actually," The man informed, motioning to the owl, which was nothing more then a black dot in the sky, "I have in my possession a collection of rare owls. I don’t have that particular species."
"God you’re a freak." She murmured, as she watched the man examine the owl. "Let’s go back to the car. Jarod won’t be going far in his pajama’s."
Cox nodded, and they two started back towards the break in the dreams. Jarod sighed inaudibly and weakened in relief. He waited until they were gone before he rolled over to get up, but as he did his body weight shifted over a rotting piece of wood. A very loud crack echoed in the silence.
As one, the three formers came back into the clearing, with their guns aimed on the tree stump. Miss. Parker jogged forward, and when she rounded the rotting wood, there was Jarod laying shivering.
"Get…up." She ordered, her gun trained on his stomach.
"Thought you were going back to the car." He managed as he got to his feet.
"Put your hands behind your back, Jarod." Miss. Parker snapped and he heaved a sigh and obeyed. Sam pulled steel silver handcuffs from his coat pocket and slapped them around the pretender’s wrists before grabbing his left arm and hauling him from the clearing.
Sydney stood, leaning against the car with Broots beside him. The car was in a small driveway beside a pleasant looking cottage where, earlier Parker and Cox had found Jarod. The last Sydney had seen them, they were chasing the half naked man into the forest in the middle of December. Sydney wouldn’t be surprised if his protégé came down with pneumonia.
"Shut up, and move it Jarod." Miss. Parker snarled from the woods. Sydney’s pulse began to race. Soon the Hunters emerged with their prey. Jarod was literally blue and shaking with cold.
"Broots, go into the house, and get the man some clothes, and a blanket." Ordered Sydney as he took a step towards Jarod. Miss. Parker, with her hand clutching the formers arm in a punishing grip intercepted Sydney.
"Don’t you dare Sydney." She snapped as she maneuvered Jarod towards the open car door. Sam opened the opposite door and got in without a word. "Where’s Broots?"
"Inside, getting clothes for Jarod."
"How nice." Drawled Miss. Parker as she scanned the front yard. "Nice little place you got here Jarod." She slammed the man against the side of the car and he grunted as his body made solid contact with the ice cold metal.
"Where are the DSA’s?" Silence was her answer, and she pulled him back and slammed him into the car again.
"God dammit Jarod, tell me where are they?"
Jarod gritted his teeth and growled his first sign of defiance. "Do you honestly think I would tell you, Parker?"
"I don’t know." Murmured Cox as he reached into his pocket retrieving a switchblade, and bringing the blade from its hiding place with an elaborate flick of the wrist. "Pain has a habit of making people talk. Didn’t you do a SIM on that, Jarod?"
Jarod pulled away slightly, trying not to blanch as Cox moved toward him, the knife reflecting the moonlight menacingly.
***
"Sydney," Yelled Broots as he rounded the corner of the house, a bundle of clothes in his hands,
"I…" he stopped both in speech and movement as he saw the tension and the situation. However, before anyone could say anything Cox placed the blade back in its sheathe, and replaced the knife in his coat.
"Something to think about." He smiled, his eyes drilling into Jarod’s soul.
"Give me those." Parker snapped as she pulled the bundle from Broots’ arms. Without a word, Jarod was uncuffed and had a thick sweater pulled over his head, then recuffed. There was a little hesitation with the pants, but he somehow managed to get into some faded blue jeans with a fair degree of privacy. Without further word, Parker pushed him into the limo. Jarod sat between Cox and Sam, with Miss. Parker and Sydney facing him on the opposite of the expensive prison. Another sweeper and Broots sat in the front, with maps strewn across the dash. Without word, the ignition was started and they pulled from the driveway.
"The sweet taste of victory…" Muttered Miss. Parker to herself, a frown playing on her features as she watched Jarod shift uncomfortably beside Cox and Sam. He returned her gaze steadily before placing his head on the back of the seat, starring at the top of the car. He twisted and glanced at the fading form of his house and could feel the nervousness creep into his stomach. He couldn’t return to the Centre again.
"It appears your getting sloppy, Jarod." Spoke Cox as he turned and stared at the pretender. "Brought back to the Centre twice in several months."
"Brought back?" Asked Jarod in a pondering tone. "You put such a pretty label on kidnapping, Cox."
"Call it whatever you wish Jarod. You wouldn’t have had to be ‘Brought back’ at all if you hadn’t been so persistent in escaping from the safety of the Centre."
"There you go again." Jarod affirmed without taking his gaze from the ceiling. "The Centre is not a safe place to be. More people have vanished there then in the Bermuda Triangle. I know. I’ve looked into it."
Sydney sighed and watched Jarod. His protégé was trying to hide it, but Sydney could see the telltale signs of stress, fear, and exhaustion. The older man hid his frown of worry, least Cox see him. It had taken ever ounce of him to stay still as the deadly man has approached Jarod with the knife.
***
The drive was long and tedious. Broots and the sweeper argued about which was the right way to the Border, and Miss. Parker complained constantly about her hatred of Canada. Apparently, gas prices were insanely high in Delaware and surrounding areas. Over the last week the Centre’s jets and private planes had been grounded so it looked like Jarod was going to have to sit through the entire road trip with the group of his biggest fans. That would have been fine until Cox pulled the syringe.
Jarod eyed the man warily. It was three hours into the journey, and Jarod wasn’t exactly sure where they were. Cox had pulled a black suitcase from under the seat and then had removed a syringe and a small glass vial marked with an orange sticker.
"What’s that?" Jarod demanded in a cautious tone.
"Well," Said Cox in his usual voice which was both angering, and frightening, "Something to help you sleep."
"I don’t want to sleep." Jarod said flatly, as he turned towards the man with his hands slightly in front of him and his back partially to Sam. "In fact, I like being awake just fine."
Cox held the needle between two fingers with his thumb on the end of the plunger.
"Jarod," he said in that maddening tone, "I would hate to have to force this on you."
Jarod looked at the man, and the tension noticeably rose several notches in the limo before the pretender obediently rolled up his sleeve and presented it to the man. He winced as the needle slipped into his arm, and he grimaced as the warm liquid flooded into his system.
"And here I thought I was going to have to get Sam to help." Cox said as Jarod world began to grow dark.
"Not to quote Shakespeare," Jarod mumbled as his tongue quickly became thick and useless, "Our enemies have led us to a pit. ‘Tis better we jump in ourselves then to have our enemies push us. Or… something like that." He mumbled as the world tilted and faded black.
***
Parker watched as Jarod suddenly slumped forward. Sam stopped the man’s fall and positioned him away from injury. She carefully checked all emotion from her face as she scanned the prone man’s features. He was so innocent, and so charming. She frowned and watched the back window, noticing the snow.
The drive was uneventful without Jarod’s conscious presence, actually. No one had to worry about him pulling an escape act, and no tensions were pulled with his skillful fingers. It was around the next evening when Parker couldn’t take the car any more and ordered the sweeper to pull into the first hotel he came across.
The roads were getting greasy with the snow and ice when inally a hotel named the Payzant Nighter came into view. Parker ordered Broots to go and get two rooms adjacent to each other and then she began to wring her hands. It was times of stress like this that she began to regret quitting smoking.
"Not to be the bearer of bad news," Announced Cox as he laid Jarod’s arm down, "But our pretender will be with us soon. Perhaps we should get him inside?"
"Nervous Cox?" Sneered Miss. Parker as she clambered for the door.
"Of course not." The man parried as he stepped out beside her with Sam hauling the motionless pretender from the opposite door, "But you will have a hard time explaining it to the local authorities if they happen to come across him. Just a thought."
Miss. Parker glanced around the small parking lot through the falling snow and growled as she shivered, "Of all the places to stop, we stop dead center of HickVille. Population? Well let’s see, there’s the Hotel clerk, Cox, Sydney, Broots, Robin, Sam and I. Oh yes, and Jarod. That is seven people, in a town called…" She snapped her fingers to the nervous technician at her side, "Broots?"
"Moose Town, Miss. Parker."
"Perfect…" She murmured with a sarcastic smile.
"Well lets get sleeping beauty inside, shall we?"
As it turned out, Broots booked two rooms adjacent to each other, and accessible through a door. Each had a television, a queen size bed with ugly yellow sheets, a bathroom, and a complimentary basket of Disney videos. Broots had snagged a couple of fold up beds for himself, Sam and the other sweeper, Robin. Parker had claimed one room to herself, had ordered Cox to a lazy chair, and Sydney to a faded yellow sofa.
Jarod, as it turned out, was thrown rather unceremoniously on the bed and the handcuffs were wrapped around a rung in the headboard, and then re-snapped tightly around Jarod’s wrists.
"What the hell do they have to eat here? Are we going to have to eat raw fish?" Moaned Miss. Parker in a state of despair. Still two days from the Canadian/States border. She had heard gruesome stories of people getting snowed in for days in small rural towns, and starving to death. If worse got to worse, she could kill Cox. She grinned suddenly to herself. Best meat’s in the rump.
"Something amusing, Parker?" Asked Cox in a pleasant tone as he grabbed a tattered magazine of Horses and Hounds and settled himself into his chair with the black suitcase by his side.
"Not at all." She smirked.
***
The first thing that Jarod was really aware of was a horrific loud howling. Did he leave the window open? His thoughts were foggy and useless but slowly the memories of the former night’s occurrences filtered back into his mind. After the howling-which after time Jarod pinpointed as the wind-came the insistent and meaningless drone of a television set. A television?
Jarod experimentally opened his left eyes and stared directly into the side of a small table. He then noticed that he was on his side and without word he rolled over onto his back. He tried to move his hands to get more comfortable, but he instantly felt the restraint of handcuffs.
"Welcome back Jarod." Piped a familiar voice. Jarod craned his head to the left and to the source of the voice and saw Sydney sitting on a lumpy yellow couch, several of his books in his lap.
"There ought to be a law against that color." Jarod whispered while trying to get accustomed to talking again. "That couch is sinful."
Sydney laughed and nodded as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. "How are you feeling, Jarod?"
"My head hurts…" The pretender murmured softly, and all most accusingly at the older man, but Sydney didn’t flinch.
"Yes, I thought it would. It’s an after effect of the drug Cox gave you. The good news is that the effect won’t last long, so it should be gone by tomorrow morning. The bad news is that the pain will intensify until it does."
"How much will it intensify?" Asked Jarod in a cautious tone.
"I have advil handy, if that answers your question. However from what Cox told me, you will need something a little stronger which he has with him."
Jarod resumed his place on his back and sighed. That probably meant that he was going to be in agony in several hours. Jarod knew without a fraction of a doubt that it was meant to keep him manageable. He was in handcuffs, what the hell did Cox think he could possibly do? It also meant that Jarod was going to have to be given more drugs, more needles and would soon be feeling like he was on morphine. That was just what he didn’t need, and Cox knew it.
"Lovely..." Jarod murmured to himself softly.
"Well look who’s awake." Miss. Parker smiled triumphantly as she sauntered from the room. Jarod looked past her to the window. It was dark, and snowing viscously. Jarod ignored the woman who had taken the role of hunter in his life and then shifted his position on the bed.
Sydney caught the air before it could fall to battle fire. "Miss. Parker, where is Broots?"
"Getting something for us to eat." She said without taking her eyes off of Jarod. Jarod was lying perfectly still, his eyes closed and his head tilted back ever so slightly with a grimace on his face. "What’s wrong with the Genius?"
"After effects of the tranquilizer Cox gave him." Sydney supplied. "So what’s Broots getting?"
"I don’t know. Probably some of that fast food crap from the kitchen. Did you know that the hotel currently has 28 other people in it?" She asked in general curiosity and amazement. "I didn’t think there were that many people within 300 miles of this rat hole."
***
Twenty minutes later, all of the participants in the great race known as ‘Chase Jarod’ were gathered in the room with Jarod and Sydney. Each had their own supper that they were entertaining themselves with. Cox even went so far as to allow Jarod his hands, though still handcuffed, for eating.
"Broots I can’t believe you actually paid for this." Miss. Parker marveled as she lifted a forkful of yellow slop that passed as corn.
"I paid for it, with your credit card." The man agreed as he took another overflowing spoonful of soup.
"I don’t know Miss. Parker," Sydney said carefully as he sipped from his cup, "This isn’t that bad."
"Its not that bad," Agreed Cox, "Its horrible." He placed his fork on his plate, and laid the plate on the floor without further word. "Your choice in food is less then satisfactory, Mr. Broots."
Suddenly the conversation was interrupted by the very loud crash of a plate shattering against the floor. All eyes turned to the source of the noise, and Sam’s gun was even drawn. Jarod lay on the bed, his hands at his temples and his face twisted in agony.
"What the hell did you give him Cox?" Demanded Parker, as she stood. Sydney was already beside Jarod, trying to get the younger man to lay back on the bed, but the man was less than cooperating.
"I told you the after effects would be painful." Cox supplied casually as he reached for his black case. The man stared at the writhing pretender a moment before opening the case and retrieving a bottle marked with a red sticker and syringe. The man took his time filling the needle, and tapping the air bubbles out of it before he approached the pretender.
"Sam?" Prompted Cox. The sweeper moved forward and cuffed Jarod’s hands around a rung of the headboard. Cox pulled Jarod’s sleeve out of the way and administered the shot in his shoulder, all the while the pretender was fighting the man, and twisting in pain.
It seemed like an eternity before Jarod ceased his movements. His chest heaved quickly, up and down, and his face was coated in a fine sheen of sweat. Parker crossed her arms and stared at the pretender, and then suddenly rounded of Cox.
"If he died, the Board-"
"He would not have died, Miss. Parker." The man said in a powerful tone that was steady and quiet. "I know what I’m doing."
Miss. Parker gave the man a look over, and opened her mouth to give Cox a very thorough verbal beating before Sydney interrupted smoothly.
"Perhaps it would be best if Jarod was left alone to … calm down." The psychologist was extremely careful to use a term that would not point a finger at Cox in any way.
"Your right Syd. Cox? Broots?" She looked at the two men, and then vanished into her room. Like puppy dogs, Cox, Broots, Sam and Robin followed her, the door shutting behind them. The very loud hum of a television came into life.
Sydney stood and cleaned the mess the other’s had left him with, all the while keeping a very close look on Jarod. The Pretender’s breathing had slowed somewhat, and his face was buried in the sweater of his right arm. Jarod’s entire frame was trembling from the former pain. When Sydney was done, he retrieved his seat on the couch beside Jarod’s bed and pulled a book, waiting for his protégé to recover.
***
There was pain, and then there was pain. The pain that he had experienced at suppertime had come slowly from the recesses of his chest. First he thought he could handle it, but then a lancing pain had ripped through his head again, and again leaving him struggling to breathe through the waves of the hot, furious pain. He had never felt anything like it, and it was something he did not care to repeat.
When Jarod finally fought to full awareness he was still on the bed and everything was very quiet. He shook his head gently, and was relieved when he wasn’t rewarded with agony.
Again, Jarod found himself on his side. He reclaimed him place on his back and then looked for signs of life. Firstly, he saw Sydney asleep on that ugly couch, then he found Sam sleeping in a chair beside the door. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Broots sleeping on a fold-up bed by the wall that separated his room and Miss. Parker’s. The morning light shone through the windows, through a blur of white.
Jarod’s full senses came to him, and his heart began to pound. He twisted around and got a good look at the handcuffs that held him to the bed. If he would get out of these damned things, then he could maybe go out the window. No, not those windows, too small. How about the door? Only if I want to get shot by Sam, he thought to himself silently.
Take a hostage? Fake the flu? How about unconsciousness? No, that wouldn’t work. They would cart him back to the Centre and deal with him there. Amnesia? No, Genius. No matter how strong the medicine was, you wouldn’t have lost your memory. What he if called the clerk? …And tell him what? No matter what he told him, in order for it to be of use to Jarod, the clerk’s life would be in danger. Call the police? No, that was certainly out. The Centre had contacts out here. In fact Jarod had the sneaking suspicion that that is how they found him.
Jarod shifted and his arm twisted uncomfortably. He grunted in pain and saw Sydney stir out of the corner of his eye. The pretender froze, and he was unsure why. The older man shook himself awake and saw his protégé watching him warily.
"Jarod, your up." Sydney whispered loudly, "Parker was just about ready to shoot Cox, and let her father sort it out later."
"Why are we still here?" Demanded Jarod.
"The storm outside is horrible."
He had forgotten about the storm. Could that be of use to him?
"Then why do we still have the power?"
"Generator."
"Oh."
Sydney didn’t comment on it, but he thought he could detect a note of disappointment in Jarod’s tone. Sydney watched the younger man for a moment and then tried to strike up a conversation.
"How is your head?
"Better, I suppose."
Sydney stayed silent, looking at the younger man on the bed. Jarod was obviously suffering a fair amount of stress. How would he deal with the switch from freedom to captivity, again?
"Penny for your thoughts, Syd?" Jarod questioned softly as he resumed his position on his back. Sydney ignored Jarod’s question and returned to examining the man.
"Any headache, or chest pains Jarod?"
"You know Sydney," The pretender stated irritably, "I’m a Doctor. I can be. If I felt something was wrong, I would probably bring it to your attention."
Instead of commenting, Sydney repeated his former question.
"I feel fine." Mumbled the pretender in an almost sulking tone as he regarded the ceiling.
"Hungry?"
"No." Came the flat reply. Sydney shrugged absently and returned to his book. Moments later a rather startling clanking averted Sydney’s attention back to Jarod. The man was twisted around and giving his handcuffs a very thorough once-over.
"If Cox catches you Jarod, he just may administer another dose."
"I’m not trying to get away Sydney," The pretender protested, looking at the man over his handcuffed arms, his eyes shining with a childish innocence, and youth. "I am trying to see what brand these are."
"How about you lay back on the bed, Jarod." Came Miss. Parker’s smooth, cutting tone. Jarod looked towards the doorway to her bedroom, and there she stood with her arms crossed.
"Good morning Miss. Parker." Came Jarod’s cheerful reply as he lay back onto the bed carefully. "How was your supper?"
"Horrible." She stated as she walked over to the man, inspecting his restraints. They held firm. "In fact, it was horrible the last two nights I’ve been here."
Jarod looked at Sydney sharply, his eyes registering shock.
"You failed to mention that I have been unconscious for over 24 hours, Sydney." Jarod exclaimed through clenched teeth, a sudden fear rippling through his system. If he was out that long, what would the medical implications be?
"You failed to ask." Sydney parried with a tone becoming quickly aggravated. Jarod sensed this and suddenly fell silent. Sydney reached over and flicked on the radio and fiddled with the dials.
"Well folks, if you have looked outside lately, you don’t need me to tell you it’s a blizzard-"
"Gee Jarod," Commented Parker dryly, "Better watch out. This guy is stealing your intellectual thunder." She was rewarded with a loud ‘shhh’ from Sydney.
"- Needless to say, all schools in the Moose Town, Payzant, and Beaver Crossing are closed-"
"Ye-s!" exclaimed Jarod suddenly. At the weird look from Sydney he explained, "Sorry, force of habit. I was an English teacher four days ago."
"-But the storm will be clearing tonight. The plows should be by through the night, so you young ones expect school to be on tomorrow. Now, here is a little music from the Elvis collection-" Without further word, Parker yanked the cord from the wall. She waved the plug at Jarod, half tauntingly.
"Well buddy, hear that?"
"I heard." He murmured, all humor gone from his face.
"And if you try and play hooky-" She trained off, the threat in her voice extremely clear.
***
The next few hours traveled by without any real special occasions until Cox came back from the Common room in the hotel. Before his appearance everyone was calmly waiting out the storm, Jarod still handcuffed to the bed despite his arguments.
Cox walked back in through Parker’s room, his shoulder’s white with snow, as well as his hair. Jarod could feel tension rise instantly. What had happened while he was unconscious?
Parker ignored Cox all most completely, Sydney kept his attentions on Jarod. Broots and Robin found their way out of the room, and Sam seemed neutral to Cox all together.
"How are you feeling, Jarod?" Asked Cox pleasantly as he removed the handcuffs and took his seat on the lazy boy at the foot of Jarod’s bed.
"I feel fine." Jarod resisted wedging in a ‘now’ onto the end of his sentence.
"That’s good." Nodded Cox. "The storm is letting up."
"I know."
"You’re going to be going back to the Centre soon, Jarod."
"I know that too."
"How does that make you feel, I wonder?"
"Isn’t Sydney the psychiatrist?" While Jarod spoke, the aforementioned man shifted uncomfortably in his chair, keeping a wary eye on Cox.
"Yes, in fact Sydney, Parker and I have been debating on your future."
So that’s why everyone seems so uncomfortable. Now I’m feeling nervous, Jarod mused to himself.
"Really now?" Jarod asked placidly, looking uninterested.
"Yes, really. Now I believe that we should administer more drugs, Sydney believes we should remove the handcuffs, and Parker-"
"-Believes that she can handle it." Sneered the woman, as she paced the room. Something was wrong.
"Yes." Agreed Cox, "That’s what Parker thinks. Now tell me Jarod, how do you feel about going back to the Centre?"
"…Isn’t the answer a little obvious?" Asked Jarod. He scanned the blank face of Cox. No emotions were held in the man’s eyes, and it gave Jarod the chills. The pretender and Cox locked eyes, before the man turned to the window.
"It’s getting dark. I think I will get some shut eye." The man supplied casually as he fell into the chair that was his bed for their period in the motel.
"Jarod?" Sydney murmured from the man’s left. Jarod craned his head to regard Sydney. The older man held out a cup of chocolate milk to the pretender and Jarod laughed.
"Chocolate milk?"
"Yes." Sydney said firmly. Jarod couldn’t be sure, but he thought there was the fraction of a pause. Sydney gave the small Dixie cup to Jarod and the pretender downed the creamy liquid in one gulp.
As Jarod lowered the glass, he heard a startled exclamation from Sydney. Jarod turned his head and saw Sydney all most falling from the chair, his hand extended.
"Jarod!" Came Sydney’s sharp voice, "You aren’t supposed to drink it that quickly!"
"Its chocolate milk Syd, Not Vodka."
"No, Jarod you don’t understand-" Before Sydney could continue he was interrupted by a strange look on his protégé’s face. Jarod had suddenly became very lightheaded and drowsy, and he looked at Sydney accusingly before he felt his world tip and grow dark.
***
"-Can’t believe you did it." Came a loud, irritated voice. Jarod was slowly awakened, and the first voice he heard, he recognized as Parker’s. Slowly, the rest of Jarod’s senses came to him. The soft surface under him was shaking and trembling. Then the sound of a motor caressed Jarod’s ears and it didn’t take long for the pretender to realize that he was in a car. Jarod’s heart sank.
The bickering continued. "It was either that or Cox’s drug."
"He drank the whole thing, Sydney."
"He’s been out for a long time." Came the hushed voice of Broots.
"He wasn’t supposed to drink the whole thing." Sydney offered in a defending tone. "How was I supposed to know he liked chocolate milk that much? He never left me any indication whatsoever-"
"Can it Sydney." Parker cleaved evenly. A sudden thought struck Jarod. How was he going to pretend to come around in a way that didn’t make it appear obvious that he had been eavesdropping?
God answered for Jarod, as something made the Driver hit the brakes. Jarod’s momentum pulled him off of the seat and he rolled over, hitting the floor of the car with an unforgiving thud.
"Jarod!" Sydney yelled in alarm. Not so much to Jarod as to warn whoever was keeping him in his seat that he was in harm’s way.
"That… hurt." The pretender grumbled through gritted teeth. He pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, and was pulled back into the car seat. "Seatbelts were made for a perfectly good reason."
"You’re awake." Parker stated in a monotone.
Jarod nodded in a curt, affirming tone. "Stating the obvious is your strong point."
"Don’t start." Came a smooth and warning reply.
"You’re obviously cranky. You know what will fix that up? Sleep. You will notice that I’m not cranky, and that’s because I have been sleeping a lot over the last several days. Now, how many days was that Syd.?"
"Jarod-" Sydney started with a sigh, but was interrupted as Jarod continued.
"Nevermind, it doesn’t matter."
They drove in silence for a while longer, until they reached the Trans-Canada. Jarod craned his neck to see out of the windshield and frowned for no apparent reason.
"What are you looking at Jarod?" Questioned Sydney, taking in the look of worry on the man’s face.
"The roads. They look bad."
"They’re fine." Snapped the driver.
"No. They look bad. Maybe even black ice." Repeated Jarod carefully.
"But the roads are fine Jarod-" Started Sydney in puzzlement at Jarod’s conclusion. No sooner had the words come from his mouth, then did the driver turn the steering wheel all the way to the right and slammed on the brakes. The squeal of tires and the loud ‘snap’ that followed as the car gently rolled off the road, and down into a grassy clearing sent the passengers of the car slamming around the compartment.
"What the hell was that for, you moron?" Snarled Miss. Parker as she pulled off her seat belt and turned around, facing the driver.
"I don’t know. I guess the roads do have black ice." The man mumbled in confusion.
"Well get the car started again." Snapped Cox.
The sweeper turned the key, and nothing happened. Jarod placed a hand over his mouth as he began to laugh loudly in the silence.
"You." Growled Parker lowly as she turned around in her seat. "This is your fault. Now you get your ass out there are fix it."
"It has to be ten degrees below zero Miss. Parker." Jarod defended himself in an alarmed tone. "Not a chance."
***
Jarod pried the hood of the car open and carefully looked over the engine. Miss. Parker, Cox and the sweepers all stood by, rubbing their arms and trying to rid themselves of the biting cold. Frowning, this time in genuine concern, the pretender looked at the parts and bent over, peering at odds and ends.
"Hurry up, lab rat." Snarled Parker.
Jarod paused, before he turned and smiled at the woman devilishly. "Miss. Parker, are you wearing pantyhose by any chance?"
Miss. Parker paused, not sure is she heard him right before she spoke lowly, and dangerously. "What?"
"Panty hose. Are you wearing them?"
"What the hell are you? A sex fiend?"
"Answer the question." Jarod replied politely.
"Yes, Jarod. I am wearing pantyhose." Parker snapped as she looked over his shoulder, eyeing all of the cars streaming by.
"Take them off." He parried innocently.
"Did you hit your head in your INDUCED accident? You DO realize who you’re talking to, right?"
"Miss. Parker," Replied Jarod as he leaned against the bumper, smiling at her. "The fan belt has been severed in two. Now, you can either flag down cars and collect shoelaces for the rest of the day, or you can give me your panty hose."
Miss. Parker stood there for a moment before she went to the car and wrenched the door open. She was growling and muttering obscenities under her breath until she finally advanced on Jarod, and handed him the garments.
"You should get back in the car, and let us man-folk handle this." Tested Jarod as he bent back to the engine. "You’re probably cold without these." The pretender waved the leggings at the aggravated woman as he looped, tied, looped, tied and pulled.
"I hate you." She growled lowly.
"I don’t doubt that." Jarod said pleasantly as he slammed the hood down and was escorted back to the car.
***
The sign of a gas station appeared on the horizon and just in time. From the long, tired groan of the fan belt, the pantyhose would be soon ineffective. Cox turned to Jarod and spoke in a very calm voice.
"Jarod, I am a clever man and I know what I can expect from you at this station."
"Can you now?"
"Yes. And if you so much as look sideways at these people I will make it so none of them are ever heard from again."
Jarod fell into a stony silence, his eyes sparking in anger and his lips pressed into a thin white line. The car pulled into the gas station and stopped just as there was a loud ripping sound and the car gave up its desperate struggle.
"Hi there." A young and chunky gas attendant came over to the car and leaned into the open driver’s window. "Anything I can help you with?"
"Fan belt. We need a new fan belt." Smiled Miss. Parker, putting on her very best face.
I hate this place. She seethed inwardly, and added extra charm to her expression. All of the personal in the car clambered out, and Cox stood beside Jarod as the car was pulled into the service station.
"You folks may want to go for a bite to eat, we may be a while."
"Where?" Jarod piped before anyone could refuse the offer.
***
Fifteen minutes later, the ensemble stepped into a small and clean diner. Sam ushered Jarod into a booth, where Sydney soon joined him.
"What do you want, wonderboy?" Hollered Miss. Parker over her shoulder as she stood in front of the counter. Jarod remained stubbornly silently until Miss. Parker growled to the attendant, "Lord, just a water than."
Moments later, all the people considered were in two booths. Jarod sat silently, his water untouched. He knew that sooner or later, he would be back in the Centre. He could be as playful as he liked but he knew, and he guessed that Sydney knew, that he was trying to relieve stress.
Stress. Jarod’s lips pulled into a half-attempted smile. After four years on the run, you would think he had met every kind of stress possible. This was simply not so. This was a whole new ballgame. Between Cox, and Parker he was having a hard time not breaking down. He had broke down before, and that was at the Centre. Lyle had had a hand in that. That man had his hand in a lot of things. His brother’s death, his death, his torture… You would think he would learn to keep his hand out of the cookie jar after he lost his thumb. Lyle never was very bright, for a psychopath.
He suddenly became aware that Miss. Parker was talking to him. He turned his head to look at her, his eyebrows furrowing together, and a false smile dancing back onto his face.
"Back with us?" Questioned Cox with soft, and very false concern in his voice.
"If I had left," Jarod said as he lifted the glass of water, "I would have never came back. Isn’t that what this is all about?"
"Some bad storm last night, huh?" Asked the waitress as she brought the order to their table. "Worst we’ve seen ‘round these parts in a good 30 years."
"And how wonderful that we are here to catch it." Said Miss. Parker with a sneer and she glanced sideways at Jarod.
"Can I get you guys anything else?" The Waitress practically squeaked in a chipper tone. Jarod raised his hand slightly, catching her attention.
"Yes, uh… Wendy is it?" He said as he read her nametag, "I would like a plate of fries, and a hamburger please. Nothing on the hamburger and a bottle of ketchup."
"Sure thing, handsome." She said with a wink. Before anyone could comment she was gone.
"Hungry, Jarod?" Seethed Parker as she ripped her glance from the uppity waitress to her prey.
"I just don’t like the idea of other people, especially you Cox, around my food. Once burned…" His tone trailed off with a false smile to the people across from him.
About an hour, and several orders later, Jarod finally tossed down his napkin, finished. The other people had been watching him for about 40 minutes as he ate what he had on his plate, ordered more, and then ordered once again.
"High metabolism." He had explained with a grin.
Miss. Parker snorted and stood. "This is our last stop until we get to the border, so go have your bathroom break now." Without further word, she maneuvered her way to the cash register.
Jarod stood and took a step towards the bathroom and gritted his teeth as Sam followed after him. The bathroom was down a narrow hall, and much to Jarod’s pleasure, beside a large EXIT door.
Sam pulled the gun from his waistband and motioned to the bathroom door. Jarod smiled slightly as he pushed open the single person bathroom and shut the door behind him. Jarod locked the door and began to look around wildly. He needed out. The bathroom itself had no windows or other doors. Not even a large vent. Just a toilet, a sink, and a trash can. Jarod went to the sink and turned on the tap as he continued to think over his options. It came down to the door outside the bathroom.
***
Sam knocked on the bathroom door as he looked down the hallway. Cox, Robin and the others were all waiting by the door.
"Come on." Called the sweeper with a grunt and obediently the door opened. Sam lifted his head expecting to see Jarod but was greeted with a soapy fist being smashed into his face. Sam grabbed at his eyes, temporarily blinded. Jarod shoved past him and slid across the hallway, slamming into the door. The door swung open with a loud smash and Jarod jumped off the small case of stairs at the same time Sam hollered for Robin.
Jarod took off towards the woods, wiping his wet hand on his shirt. A gunshot rang loudly in the stillness as the pretender reached the tree line. A loud crack to his left singled that the bullet had lodged itself into a tree. Well. That was better than his back.
"Jarod!" Yelled Parker as she ran into the woods in hot pursuit, her gun drawn. "Sam, go left. Robin, right."
Without turning his head, Jarod continued his headlong flight into the bush. Another shot rang out, but it was obviously a warning shot.
A little late for that. Mused the man as he vaulted over a dead log. Suddenly, a warm thrill began to tingle up his torso. He was going to make it. Not to dampen Jarod’s enthusiasm, but God, or Fate or both had plans other than escape for Jarod.
As Jarod burst through the tree line, he actually had to pull his feet out from under him to stop from running into a large chain link fence. Jarod cursed under his breath, and looked around wildly. The fence was thrice his height, and the links were too small for him to grip. Jarod looked left and right, and the fence continued on into the bush.
"Stop! Jarod, stop or I will shoot!" Sam yelled to Jarod’s left. The man turned around quickly and saw Sam coming from the trees, his hands on his gun. Robin burst from the trees to Jarod’s right and the man panicked.
The man who was once again the hunted turned to run back the way he came, but Sam was on him before he could move. With Robin covering him, Sam tackled Jarod into the snow and tried to get the man under control.
Miss. Parker jogged up as Jarod was thrown to the ground and she kept her gun trained on him, standing in a firing stance. Cox came behind her and Sydney behind him.
Sydney moved in front of Miss. Parker, watching his protégé fight in panic. Jarod and Sam were having nothing short of a wrestling match on the forest floor, but for Jarod this meant life or death.
"Jarod!" Yelled Sydney to his struggling protégé just as the pretender was struck across the face with a punishing blow from Sam. Momentarily stunned, Sam took advantage of the time to maneuver Jarod onto his stomach, and then the sweeper snapped steel cuffs around his wrists.
Jarod was taken back to the road. Miss. Parker had sent Broots to the service station earlier, so the car was waiting. The Pretender was pushed into the vehicle, with the sweepers and entourage in fast pursuit.
"Now Jarod." Said Cox with a smile as the younger man was forced to his seat, and as the car sped away, "I told you I was a clever man."
"Well by God, you deserve a cookie." Snapped Jarod as he shook the wet hair away from his eyes.
"You’re a funny man, Jarod. In your time away from the Centre you have acquired humor. I wonder how long it will take to rid you of that vice?"
Jarod stayed silent. The pretender didn’t know Cox that well, but he knew a threat when he heard one. Right now, Jarod just didn’t have the strength to get into a fight.
Later that day, actually early the next morning, the group pulled into a hotel called Swooners, and rented a room. They had been on the road for all most 10 hours, and they were all most to the Canadian border. Once there, several other cleaners who had been previously informed of Jarod’s capture would meet them.
The pretender was too tired to care. He was escorted into the bedroom, tossed onto the bed, handcuffed and left with an exhausted Sydney. Once the door closed Jarod rolled onto his back, and stared at the ceiling. Could this really be happening?
Sydney took a seat beside Jarod and watched him silently. After a few moments, the door opened and Sam entered.
"Miss. Parker wants to know if you need anything Sydney." The sweeper looked at Jarod as though expecting the pretender to do something.
"No thank you, Sam." Sydney said with a smile and the aforementioned man left without closing the door behind him.
"Jarod?" Sydney asked softly, looking at the man who was feigning sleep.
"What?" Came the mumbled reply.
Sydney opened his mouth to reply, but then coughed slightly. "Try to get some sleep."
Jarod was awakened some time later. It was dark and quiet. Craning his head to the left, he saw Sydney sleeping on a fold up bed, and Sam dozing in front of the door. The light to the next room was on, and he heard hushed voices. Suddenly, the door outside opened and Jarod saw three cleaners enter. What were they doing here?
"Good to see you." Came Cox’s soft voice from the next room. The first cleaner nodded and shut the door behind him, before any more snow could blow into the room.
"Mr. Parker sent us as once he heard." Came a male voice. Jarod squinted in the darkness; "Did you have any trouble with him?"
"He tried to escape." Affirmed Cox as he looked towards the bedroom. Jarod froze on the bed and then closed his eyes. Oblivious to the fact that he was being watched, Cox continued. "Is the transport ready?"
"Yes." Nodded the second cleaner. "Do you think he will need to be drugged?"
Jarod stiffened as Cox nodded. "Probably. The subject doesn’t seem to be too enthusiastic about being retrieved. We can’t take chances with the Canadian authorities."
"When will we be leaving?" Questioned the third cleaner.
"As soon as possible." Said Cox as he entered the bedroom and snapped on the light. Jarod heard Sydney and Sam stir awake and he heard Miss. Parker being roused from the next room.
"What are you doing Cox?" Questioned Sydney, his voice dry and cracked with sleep.
"We are leaving." Came his reply and Jarod felt the man shove him several times. The pretender opened his eyes and gazed up at the man.
"What time is it?" Asked Jarod softly and was not answered by Cox. The man unlocked the handcuffs and pulled Jarod from the bed.
Even though Jarod had been awake, he had been immobile for at least 10 hours for sure, plus the time he had been sleeping, so when Cox pulled Jarod up, the man stumbled. One of the cleaners that had accompanied Cox suddenly lashed out at Jarod with a sharp punch to his stomach. Jarod doubled over and gritted his teeth as his world began to swim. The cleaners pulled him to the first room and pushed him up against a wall. Miss. Parker was pulling on her shoes and watching the going’s on with a careful eye.
"Now Jarod," Said Cox with a grin, "This is something to help you sleep." The man mimicked his earlier words from close to a five days ago as he pulled out a syringe and the bottle marked with an orange sticker.
Even though three cleaners pressed him to the wall, Jarod yelled out his displeasure and fought as best he could. Cox stood by emotionlessly as Jarod struggled against the three men, until he nodded to the largest of the three, which then punch Jarod twice in the stomach until the man was subdued.
Jarod’s sleeve was pulled up and he watched silently as the needle was pushed into his arm. As one, the three sweepers stepped back away from Jarod and the man sprang away. He rubbed his arm and began to sink down to the floor against his will. The last thing he saw before his world tilted and he made solid contact with the floor was Cox’s smile.
***
"I am getting so sick of this." Was Jarod’s first thought as he came back to consciousness. Jarod opened his eyes and … darkness. The man shook his head and blinked several times and than he became aware that he was wearing a hood.
Fear tingled up Jarod’s body as memories of his childhood filtered back to him. If this was some sick idea of a joke, Jarod was going to make someone pay sorely for it. Jarod tried to move and found that his hands were handcuffed behind him. Where-ever he was, was cold, and he was laying on his back. He began to shift around until a hand came across his throat, stilling his movements. He craned his neck and listened very carefully. The car, no not car, … van was stopped and he heard two voices speaking softly.
"…And registration please." There was a pause and then a loud ‘thud’ as something hit the floor of the car. "Could I ask you to step away from the car please, Sir?"
A door was opened and Jarod could see flashes of red and blue through the hood. Muffled, and very far away he could hear a voice demand, "Do you have a permit for that?"
The reply was too muffled for Jarod to hear, but the officer obviously excepted it was moments later the door opened and the car took off. There was a long pause, and a few muttered words, and the hood was pulled off Jarod’s head.
The pretender squinted and saw an upside down Cox, and several cleaners. Jarod shifted and tried to sit up. It suddenly occurred to him that Parker, Broots and Sydney were no where to be found.
"Stay down on the floor Jarod." Ordered a cleaner. Jarod froze and looked up at the man. "And don’t make a sound."
Jarod shifted on the floor and scanned the area of the van. It was dark outside, and storming. "Where are we?"
"I said…" Ground the cleaner, "Stay quiet."
After a few moments of driving, and with all in the van glancing the way they came, the atmosphere relaxed slightly. "Now Jarod." Smiled Cox, "Did you say something?"
"Where are we?"
"We are ten minutes from Home." Smiled Cox as Jarod was gripped with an ice-cold terror that wrenched his stomach.
"Go ahead." Smiled Cox. "Ask it."
"Ask what?"
"Ask the question that you want to ask me, but are afraid too of the answer." Cox paused, and than when he saw Jarod had no intention of uttering the words, he prompted with a grin, "Miss. Parker…?"
Jarod sighed. "Where is everyone else?"
"See Jarod? I know more about you then you know about yourself. Miss. Parker and her entourage have already arrived at the Centre. The local authorities … held us up."
What seemed like seconds later, the van pulled into the Centre gates, and drove up the exceptionally long dive. The van continued and pulled around back before stopping. The driver and cleaners jumped from the van, and Jarod was pulled out. Before he was led to a small door, Jarod caught a glance at the side of the van. It was an armored car.
"Well… that’s a new one." Muttered Jarod as the door was pulled open and he was led into the Centre. The hallway that greeted Jarod was long, with a single light bulb hanging from a long cord on the ceiling, swinging and flickering to a silent music. At the end of the hall, there was an elevator door.
The elevator opened and there stood Lyle with a large smile on his face. The three cleaners stopped at the door, and Cox escorted Jarod into the small elevator with Robin and Sam.
"Welcome home, Jarod!" Smiled Lyle as he cracked the man across the back. Jarod narrowed his eyes and kept his face straight as he felt the elevator go down.
"You know Jarod." Smiled Lyle, "I have yet to thank you for the interesting evening locked in that basement with my sister."
Jarod had kidnapped Lyle a week earlier and locked him in the basement with Miss. Parker. He had threatened Lyle with torture, and electrocution but even know when he was here with him, Jarod didn’t regret it.
The elevator stopped and Jarod caught sight of the SL. SL-24 - Detainment and isolation level. How lovely. Jarod was escorted from the elevator down long darkened corridors and eventually he was led into a small dark room with the only furniture being a table and a chair.
Jarod was placed in the small metal chair, and Lyle sat across from him. "You know Jarod, last time I got to do the entire… torture thing." Lyle grinned and laid his hands on the table. His gloved hand seemed to scream at Jarod that the man had endured pain and liked to give it back. "Well, the board wasn’t pleased and so now we have to do the entire…’interrogation’ thing. I personally like my way better, but even I bow under a higher power."
"And would this higher power have horns and a pitchfork?" Seethed Jarod as the door opened. A man in a white lab coat entered, bring with him a tray and a sweeper.
"Now Jarod, we can do this the easy way, we can do this the hard way – it’s all up to you."
"Decisions, decisions…" Murmured Jarod looking Lyle straight in the eye as sweepers took their places on either side of both men.
"What’s it going to be?" Questioned Lyle softly, a smile on his face as he intertwined his fingers.
"Tell me Lyle," Said Jarod as he shifted in his chair, "What rating would you give the hospitality here?"
"What…?" Asked Lyle, confusion flickering through the man’s eyes even though his face stayed neutral.
"Would you give it thumbs up, or thumbs down?"
Lyle forced a smile on his face as he looked over his shoulder at the Doctor. As the Doctor readied the large hypodermic needle, Jarod caught Lyle’s attention again.
"Do you hitchhike much, Lyle? No?"
"Jarod, you just don’t know when to shut up, do you?"
The pretender smiled at the other man, his face dark and unforgiving. The Doctor moved near Jarod and the men locked gazes. Lyle nodded and the sweepers pulled Jarod from his chair and threw him onto the small metal table. Jarod grunted and kicked out with his feet, but he was unsuccessful. Soon he felt his pants pulled low enough to expose his hip, and several moments later he felt the needle enter his skin.
Jarod’s fighting went into remission a moment as the man made a soft sound of pain, but before he could do anything he was pulled from the table and replaced in the chair.
***
Several hours later, Jarod was hauled to a small cell and tossed in. It was exactly like the cell he had been in the last time he had been back at the center, but this time there was not even a drainage hole. Not that Jarod had the stomach to attempt to escape that particular way again.
The pretender lay on his back, and closed his eyes, his chest heaving up and down and the front of his gray sweater wet with sweat. It just seemed like he had closed his eyes when they came back for him again.
This time it was Sam and Cox who came. The door was opened and Cox’s eyes locked onto Jarod’s, and this time it was Jarod who looked away first. Silently Jarod was led down the hall and to the elevator. Once inside, Sam hit SL [24]. Jarod felt fear grip his stomach, but he refused to let it show.
The door opened once on SL-14 and a short, bald, blind man entered. The elevator door closed and the elevator continued down. The door opened again for the blind man to get off, and just as the doors were closing, Jarod darted out. Stunned, Cox took a step forward, and Sam went for him gun, but Cox found he was handcuffed to the sweeper, and Sam’s weapon was missing.
Jarod, barefoot and tired, started to jog down the hall. He stuck to the shadows, and was especially careful of cameras. It didn’t matter. He knew the Centre like the back of his hand. Moments later the lights shut off, and the emergency lights snapped on as an alarm began to ring.
Jarod stepped into the shadows created by a overhanging staircase, and moments later Lyle, Mr. Parker and Miss. Parker appeared around the corner.
"Where the hell is he?" Growled Mr. Parker, "The Camera’s show nothing."
"We will find him, Daddy." Assured Miss. Parker as they continued walking.
Jarod knew that he had a chance of being discovered, and that the only route to escape lay behind the coming doom. A red emergency light stopped Jarod from moving. Let’s see. Thought Jarod, If I shoot the light, it will either work or it will rickershade off and kill Lyle. Jarod paused a moment before he pulled the gun and shot twice. There was a snap, and than a loud shattering.
Jarod pounced from the shadows and ran to the doorway and he briefly head Lyle start to swear. The pretender pushed past the group and jumped for the door. The door snapped open and than snapped shut. It was a stairwell that faced Jarod now. The pretender took the stairs up three at a time until he came to a door that opened. Jarod was on … SL-17. Jarod began to sprint towards a door and he heard a gun cock behind him.
"You must think you’re pretty smart, huh Jarod?" Demanded Lyle as he approached Jarod from behind. The pretender froze and Lyle paused to speak into a small walkie-talkie. "Yes, SL-17."
Lyle approached Jarod and reached for the man’s hand, but Jarod snapped around, and brought his gun across his hunter’s jawbone. As Lyle sank to the ground, Jarod spat angrily, "I never miss twice."
Jarod began to jog down the hallway, his gun drawn. He heard someone walking up ahead so he melted into the shadows and lifted his gun. Who ever this was, they were going to have to be shot.
As though Satan laughed was in his face, Sydney rounded the corner, and Jarod felt his heart sink. Sydney looked right into Jarod’s eyes and the pretender pounced on the man known as his mentor over his life and instead of shooting him, Jarod effiently knocked him out using a martial arts move that was relatively painless. More or less. Sydney sank to the ground, and Jarod pulled him into the shadows silently. Jarod winced down at the unconscious form of Sydney, and knew that he would be hearing about this from the older man for the rest of his life.
Jarod moved from the shadows and went to the elevator. He watched silently as the numbers moved from SL-24, to SL-17, knowing that the sweepers were on this shuttle. The elevator door opened and Jarod silently slipped in after the sweepers left. Before the door was evening closed, Jarod opened the hatch on the top of the elevator and slipped up, closing the space behind him. Moments later he heard the door open and he saw Sam and Lyle enter through a small crack.
Lyle was holding his jaw, and was cursing in rage. The man lifted his walkie-talkie and spoke into it, "Find him!" There was a pause, "What do you mean you can’t?" There was another pause as Lyle turned purple in rage. "I don’t care! He is here somewhere! Find him or I will make it so they never find your body!"
With a wicked curse, Lyle lifted his gun and fired into the ceiling of the elevator. Jarod went white, as a beam of light from the compartment shot up into the darkness between his legs.
The elevator stopped, and the two hunters left. Once the door closed, Jarod kicked open the hatch and fell into the compartment. There was a female scream and the pretender looked up to see a woman holding a box, and … Broots.
Jarod turned to Broots, lifting the gun. "Lobby, Broots." As the man pressed the button frantically, Jarod and the woman regarded each other. "Who are you?" They demanded in unison.
There was a pause and the woman answered first. "M-my name is Thelma. I’m new here."
The pretender leaned against the side of the elevator, his gun in his hand. Jarod grinned and looked at Broots. "New blood, huh Broots?"
"You don’t look so hot, Jarod." Said Broots in a soft tone. Thelma was cowering in the corner.
"You’re new here?" Jarod asked the woman, ignoring Broots’ statement. She nodded, her face white.
"You won’t be staying… will you?" Jarod asked, with a grin. The woman shook her head fervently. Apparently guns and elevators didn’t mix for her.
"Look at the bright side." Jarod said as he stood up straight. "You haven’t unpacked yet." The woman nodded silently as the door to the lobby opened.
Jarod looked silently at the stretch of room. A reception table, couches, people milling about, and then at the other side of the room there were two large double doors, leading to freedom. Suicide run, or what?
The pretender reached out and grabbed Broots’ arm and hauled the man from the elevator at the same time the doors began to close. "Don’t worry Broots." Jarod said as he began to jog towards the door, keeping the man in tow, "Just smile. Big smiles. Everybody’s happy."
"What are you doing, Jarod?" Asked Broots in a terrified whisper.
"You’re my backup in case…" Jarod tried the doors. Locked. "In case I have to take a hostage."
The elevator they just came out of opened, and Miss. Parker advanced out. Soon, sweepers began to pour into the room. Jarod held Broots tightly to him, knowing full well that Miss. Parker wouldn’t allow the man to be shot.
"Broots… try to look scared." Jarod whispered hotly in the man’s ear as he pulled his gun and placed it on Broots’ temple.
"Try to LOOK scared, Jarod?" Squeaked the tech as his face drained of color.
"Jarod! What are you doing?" Demanded Miss. Parker as she pulled her gun and fell into a firing stance.
"Well here is the thing." Jarod said with a laugh. He tried the doors again, … no luck. "I figure, since I have been kidnapped so many times, now it’s my turn."
"Jarod, we both know you won’t pull that trigger."
The pretender shrugged. "I’m willing to try everything once."
Miss. Parker cocked her gun and narrowed her eyes. "Jarod, I’m warning you…"
"Don’t test me, Miss. Parker." Jarod said simply. Miss. Parker gave Broots an odd look and Broots suddenly ducked at the same time Miss. Parker pulled the trigger. However, Jarod was expecting thing, and he pulled Broots down to the ground as Miss. Parker’s bullets exploded through the glass doors, sending a shower of glass over Jarod and Broots.
Jarod pulled Broots through the glass and began to jog with the man. There were startled yells inside the lobby as sweepers began to take flight in pursuit. The pretender began to try cars until a door opened. Jarod threw Broots into the passenger seat and slammed the door behind him. Floodlights illuminated all most in perfect unison, the inky black parking lot. Jarod’s hand went for the ignition and he all most went limp in relief. The keys were still in the car.
Jarod flared the engine to life and slammed on the gas as bullets began to rain around the car like snowflakes. However, milliseconds later all fire stopped as Mr. Parker yelled furiously at the sweepers. The last thing he wanted was a dead Jarod.
***
Some time later, the car pulled off the road into a dark driveway, and Jarod shut of the ignition. He had lost his hunters about five minutes ago in an intersection. The pretender turned and smiled at Broots who looked faint.
"Thanks Broots." Jarod smiled and moved to get out of the car. The man paused half way out, and tossed Lyle’s gun onto Broots’ lap. With a wicked gleam in his eye, he smiled to Broots. "Make sure Lyle gets that."
With that, Jarod stood and walked into the shadows, without turning back. Broots sat there until a Centre limo pulled up behind him. Headlights illuminated the car and Broots had to cover his eyes. Moments later the passenger door was wrenched open and Broots was pulled out and eye level to a furious Lyle.
"Where is Jarod?" He snarled as Miss. Parker jogged up.
"Lay off…" She snapped as she pulled Lyle’s hands from Broots’ shirt. "Broots, Where is Jarod?"
"He left… went into the woods, over there…" Broots motioned to the general area, and a group of sweepers detached from the cluster to investigate.
"Why didn’t you try to stop him?" Ground Lyle.
"How?"
"The gun you’re holding, you moron!" Growled the infuriated man.
"Oh… Jarod gave this to me, … he said to give it to you the first chance I got."
Lyle grabbed the weapon from Broots and looked at it for a moment before realization flared in his eyes and he looked to the bullet cartridge. Empty.
"Broots, did Jarod fire any bullets after he left the Centre?" Demanded Lyle. Brotos shook his head. And Lyle burst into furious laughter and he looked to the sky.
"What?" Asked Miss. Parker and her brother tossed the weapon to her.
"Empty." Snapped Lyle. "He couldn’t have shot Broots, or you or me or ANYONE … even if he had wanted to." With another unbelieving laugh, Lyle stuck his hands in his pockets, and walked to the car. Miss. Parker stood staring at the gun before following.
***
Three days later, the phone on Sydney’s desk rang. Stopping his conversation with Miss. Parker a moment, he lifted the receiver to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Hello Syd." Came Jarod’s voice. Soft, and hesitant.
"Hello Jarod." Greeted Sydney, something like a smile playing on his face. "How are you?"
"Actually… I called to ask about you. How are you, Sydney?"
"…Fine, I suppose. Why do you ask?"
Jarod was silent a moment before continuing, "I just wanted to make sure you were ok."
"Is this about what you did in the hallway? What was that anyway? Martial arts?"
"Uh huh." Answered Jarod softly, a smile in his voice.
"Its good to see you’re keeping in good shape."
Jarod laughed. "Good Bye, Syd."
Jarod shut his cell phone before Sydney could ask about how he was faring and he turned back to his class. Four rows of five children, all dressed in white robes with belts of varying colors. "All right class, today we are going to learn a special move …"
