The Search by Nic (stardestiny@bigfoot.com) 25 November 1999 Disclaimer: The characters and situations contained within are the property of Universal/Amblin Entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended. Warning: Dark with some strong language. THE SEARCH ---------- He knew he would never forget that afternoon. Never. It haunted him beyond comprehension, beyond belief, and he would never let go. Nothing would heal the pain he now felt, but it didn't mean there was nothing he could do. Oh, there was something he could do all right, something he was doing right now. He pushed through the bushes cautiously, his movements deceptively calm when compared with the anger and despair in his heart. His senses were on fire, driven by a lust for darkness. Never before had he considered himself capable of deliberately murdering someone, but he had been driven to the edge, or more correctly, over that edge. The one thing that made his life good had been taken away and now he was burning for revenge. Another cautious step, and he held his breath, knowing that his breathing could give him away. It was dark beyond comprehension, both moons hidden behind a sea of clouds and with no population on G889, there was no comforting glow of lights to illuminate the natural shroud above. It was black, pitch black, save for the fire at Eden Advance's forlorn campsite some miles away. He'd left them without looking back and they'd let him go, knowing that nothing they said or did would change his mind. He was prepared to walk all night, and the next, and for weeks and months after that, as long as it took him. He would hunt down and kill that bastard Reilly if it was the last thing he ever did. Sure that the ship was in the immediate vicinity, he paused, listening. His ears detected no more than the typical calls of the night wildlife, the wind rustling in the trees, and his own muted breaths. Knowing that it was safe to continue searching, he pushed around another tree, praying that his calculations weren't off or that Reilly hadn't already left. And where would Reilly go, he wondered. Surely his actions couldn't be condoned by the Council. It was true that the Council had its own agenda and it was true that it had quite possibly tried to kill them, but he did not believe that the Council would condone Reilly's atrocious actions, surely not. It was the only hope he had to cling to, he *had* to believe that at least some goodness existed in the universe or he might as well plunge the blade he carried into his own heart. The thought was oddly comforting, of ending it all, of letting go and succumbing. But it would leave the others behind, those who had survived, and part of him was bound to help them once the present matter was dealt with. As the memory flooded over him again he stumbled, the emotional pain causing a physical response and he was glad of the physical expression because it hurt so *damn* much and the whole universe would be crying if he had control over such things. How could one event mean so much, and so little at the same time? He knew that even as he was hurting, there were a billion other people who didn't know and didn't care. Yet life had reduced down to *one* event for him. An event he would never let go. There was a noise to the left, a muted cough and then a curse. Of course Reilly wouldn't expect them to be after him so soon. If things had gone to plan, they would never come after him, but Reilly hadn't realised just how strong- -he cut off the thought, knowing he could not succumb to the blinding rage/despair when his quarry was so close. He pulled the knife from his belt. A magpro would have been easier, an injection more elegant, but he wanted to see the fear in Reilly's eyes. He wanted revenge. Closer he crept, and closer, almost crawling through the undergrowth now, until he could see a light situated in what seemed a clearing invaded by a large shape. The ship. And near the hatch, Reilly, who suddenly kicked it and cursed again. It was time. He emerged from the trees with a smile on his face, a vacant smile he supposed, because he knew that laughter was forever erased from his life. A maniacal killer, out for revenge, bitter and twisted, and he wasn't the least bit horrified of what he had become. There was no way Reilly should have seen him, no way at all, but suddenly the Council member stared into the darkness and flinched. He stepped forward, the knife held high, and the absolute terror in Reilly's face was almost the reward he needed. He took another step and Reilly panicked and ran, not up into the ship as would be sensible, but 180 degrees away from his stalker. Almost laughing, he began the pursuit easily, knowing that eleven months on this planet had done far more for his physical fitness than any exercise program would have accomplished. It would be an easy chase. And it was. He didn't notice the leaves slapping his face, or the foliage underfoot which made them both stumble time and time again. His whole being was focussed on Reilly, the coward who had *done* this with no thought, no compassion, the man who had been so content to destroy lives. No longer. He pounced, making an easy tackle and then Reilly was pinned beneath him, and flipped over. He trapped Reilly's arms above the head and knelt on Reilly's chest, his own weight ensuring that the Citizen was well and truly incapacitated. And as always, Reilly had the gall to try and talk himself out of the situation. "I suggest that you release me or there will be very dire consequences. The Council-" With his free hand, he slapped Reilly's cheek and leaned close to hiss, "I don't care about the Council." "You have no right to hold me!" Reilly protested, his eyes darting from side to side, searching for an invisible saviour. "I have done nothing wrong! I came to this planet to negotiate with *you*," and even now, the word was expelled with disgust, "and not only is the rendezvous not attended but then you attack me!" "Liar," he spat. "I think not," Reilly countered, his voice trembling despite the confident words. "You have attacked me without provocation after I wasted a significant amount of time waiting for your emissary when I could have been taking new samples! Do you know how much it costs to take this ship planet side? Not to mention that the ship is dangerously low on energy and will only just make it until the supply ship arrives...." "Shut up!" he burst out, delivering another slap. "I'm not here to listen to any more of your lies. I'm here to deliver justice." Reilly's eyes grew even wider. "Justice? Then where is the trial, the courts, the judge? I demand evidence!" "I have all the evidence I ever need." He paused, taking in a deep breath as another wave of grief coursed over him. "You never loved anyone, did you, Reilly?" he hissed. Impossibly, Reilly's face softened. "Was there an accident?" His words were calm, beguiling. "Did your woman-" "She wasn't 'my woman', she was the love of my life, and you killed her." He brought the knife to Reilly's chest, positioning it over the heart. "You killed her." The words were softer, faraway. "You thought we'd never find her but she was stronger than that. She was strong for me...." His voice broke on the last word and he pushed down with the knife, driving it through the clothing and causing the flesh to bleed. Reilly gasped. "Please don't do this," he begged. "It wasn't me, I swear I didn't kill her!" "She staggered into camp," he was distant, reliving that horrible memory, "and I caught her. We didn't believe that you would kill her outright, I can't believe we were all so *stupid*! No promise of peace is worth sending a person alone, not even when you promised that there would be no weapons." "I had no weapon," Reilly said, shuddering as the knife was pushed a little deeper. "You did," he replied evenly. "I don't know what you injected her with, but she died in my arms. Do you hear me, Reilly?" He was shouting now, tears in his eyes. "The one person I ever loved died and *you* killed her!" "I-" and it was the last word Reilly ever spoke as the blade was pushed down with anguished ferocity as its owner took his revenge. When it was over, he got up and walked away, leaving the knife, the body, the betrayal, but the pain was still with him. He wandered through the forest for hours until the first streams of daylight appeared. He came to a stream and watched almost with disinterest at the red tendrils which were sucked away from his fingers by the rushing water. The blood on his hands gone so easily. If only.... And he knew there was no sense in wishing "if onlys" even as the possibilities turned around in his head. The crime he had committed seemed a lifetime away, almost belonging to a different person, because the person he was now was a person who had nothing in his life but grief. Endless, maddening grief, and he did not know how he could go on without her. Dawn wore on and finally, he got to his feet and walked back to camp. --- End. Note: Inspired by episodes of "Beauty and the Beast". I would adore hearing what you thought of this. Let me know at destiny@wwdg.com