Nighttime.
In so many ways the night is like a cloak that conceals you, and creates
certain anonymity. It is more
difficult
to see at night, and in the same way, more difficult to be seen. Yet, night
encompasses everyone,
therefore,
every nut case around sheds their inhibitions.
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
"I
just received a call from an anonymous source the tipster claims to know
where Max lives," Blue announced to
the
surrounding agents. Their base was tucked in a forsaken building, where a
dot-com company used to reside.
Through
months of hard work, they had been able to resume some networking
capabilities and communications.
Despite
the reborn technology, everything was still primitive. He had been unable to
trace the call.
"Where
and when can we meet this caller?"
"Tonight.
One hour. At the old WKGN radio station."
"We'll
be there with bells on."
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
The
bar was crowded on that Saturday night. It was a cool night, chilly for the
season. This did not deter
clubbers.
The pulse had not discouraged poverty-stricken people to come out and spend
their precious money on
gambling
or alcohol. Outside Max had arrived on her motorcycle. Gracefully she
dismounted her hog and removed
her
glasses. People milled around her outside of the bar. The line into the bar
must have stretched two blocks.
Every
freak and their mother must be out tonight, Max thought.
She
knew what to do, sweet-talk the bouncer.
"Could
you hold this for me please?" Max kindly asked a lady next to the rope
that was shivering from the cold.
The
lady looked at her oddly, but nodded "yes".
"Miss,
get back in line," the bouncer ordered as Max walked up to him.
"Please,
let me by, you see it is so cold out here tonight, and all I forgot my
jacket," Max persuaded. She took
extra
care to stick out her bottom lip in an irresistible pout. To add to her act,
she even shivered a bit.
"Come
on in," he said, "it's too chilly for you to stay out here."
As
the bouncer led Max inside, she turned to the throng waiting at the velvet
ropes and gave them a victory
smile.
The woman handed Max her coat with a glowering look upon her face, angry to
be deceived.
She
eased her way inside with much effort and found herself greeted with a
piercing pulsating beat of music.
There
was only a handful of people that she recognized out of the horde. One of
those familiar faces was her
closest
friend, Original Cindy. Original and herself had known one another for
years, and they respected each
other's
mysterious ways. Original knew that Max liked to keep her past quiet
Actually, Original respected Max's
mysterious
ways. Original did not care about other people's opinions of her or her
past. In fact, she made it
blatantly
clear regarding who she was and what she was.
Original
sat at the bar and she was obviously trying to pick up a date. Smiling to
herself, Max stayed at a distance
and
allowed her friend room to rendezvous. The foosballs in front of the
television looked inviting to Max, so she
decided
to practice her skill.
While
concentrating on her game, Original walked over to Max.
"Strike
out?" Max asked sympathetically.
"Yeah.
But it's her loss," Original said. Max nodded and chuckled in agreement
with her friend. "What's Ms.
Enigmatic
doing here on her night off?" Original changed the subject.
"I
figured I catch up on my Home girl."
````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
The
radio station used to broadcast for a two hundred-mile radius, now it stood
stark, abandoned, like a
western-movie
ghost town. There was only one light around, located just in front of the
building. The agents
camped
around the building, waiting for the anonymous tipster. The night blanket
concealed their substantial
artillery
and numerous soldiers. The tipster had three more minutes until the command
would be given to leave.
In
the shadows, a burly figure approached the dimly lit vacant radio station.
It was about five foot eight, about
two
hundred rolling pounds, and it carried a briefcase in its right hand.
"You
called us tonight," Lydecker began. The burly male figure continued to
approach him.
"It's
true I have what you are looking for. All I need is $30,000," the
tipster replied. Lydecker nodded. It was
expected
that the stranger would want something in return for the information. As
usual, he came prepared.
"First,
the address then I'll give you the money."
The
burly man opened his briefcase. Without a bead of sweat, he located a piece
of paper, where two precious
lines
were written: Max's address. His rough hands passed the paper over to
Lydecker without hesitation.
Lydecker
pocketed the information.
Equally
without hesitation, the soldiers that were once concealed to the tipster
revealed themselves and capped
the
hefty man. Lydecker looked down at the mess that had been created only
seconds before.
"Now,
you see no one screws with me..."
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Max
lived on the seventh floor of a condemned building, which was illegal at the
time. Weekly she would have to
bribe
housing officers to keep quiet about the abode of her and her roommate.
Weakly she waited for the
elevator.
That
day had been terrible. Max, usually immune to any type of fatigue, was
wracked with seizures throughout
the
day. Even her pills could not control them this time. On top of that, she
had not been sleeping well at all, and
she
had been up for seventy-six consecutive hours before showing up for work.
Needless to say, by the time she
arrived
home, she felt a little bit drained.
Max's
roommate Kendra was out for the evening, pulling a double shift at her job.
Max opened her apartment door
and
was greeted with quiet. Ah, quiet, so serene and relaxing perfect for
sleeping. She parked her motorcycle in
its
normal place.
Hopefully
when I wake up tomorrow, it won't be Kendra's clothesline again, Max smiled
to herself. In the shadows,
several
agents readied themselves to take her down. The perfect moment arose when
Max was outlined by the
hallway
light.
She
heard a shot zing past her ear. Instinctively she bolted down the stairs.
Suddenly, fatigue was not a problem.
Behind
her, she could hear agents coming after her.
How?
How could they find out where I lived? Max yelled inside.
Bullets
buzzed by her ear, but none caught her. Seconds ago she had left her
building and was running out in the
street.
The wind caught her hair and her bar code was for the world to see. As luck
would have it, it was night
and
there was no one around to see the designer label designating her as a
genetically engineered human. Again,
the
cloak of night saved her from exposure.
The
agents were gaining on her, in an old vehicle with an obvious need for a new
transmission. Summoning her
strength,
Max climbed over a fence blocking an alley. She ran down the alley, not
really seeing what was around
her,
tunneling her vision to the other side, where the alley connected to a
parallel street. She again, hopped the
fence
with ease, not looking back.
She
hid under a set of stairs. Controlling her breathing, she listened for any
movement outside. After several
minutes,
she realized that she had lost Lydecker's agents with her cunning and speed.
Carefully, she left the
confines
of the stairs.
Max
looked about her. She was in the ex-financially-affluent part of Seattle.
Across the street, she saw Logan's
building.
It
would not hurt to surprise him, she thought. She smiled inwardly at the
thought of the surprise on his face. Her
smile
diminished when she remembered the pain he had been in recently. His
medications were making him
nauseous,
so he refused to take them. Instead of nausea, he felt biting pain.
I
will not feel guilty. It was his silly idea to save the world and he was
hell-bent on doing it no matter what
anyone
said or did, Max tried to convince herself. I could not have stopped him if
I wanted to. No matter what
she
said to herself, there was a slight tinge of guilt for what had happened to
him, maybe it was pity camouflaged
as
guilt.
By
the time she had finished contemplating Logan's condition, she found herself
in front of his door. Courageously,
she
knocked. The seconds between her knock and his response seemed to stretch
from Seattle to eternity. From
within
she could hear "hold on!"
The
door opened. She stood eye to eye with Logan.
"Logan!
What happened?!" Max asked disorientated. Her mind told her to stop
worrying about him, but she had to
know
how this had happened.
"I
underwent a radical new surgery, I'm still a little sore, but it worked! I
have regained total use of my lower half,"
he
explained as he shut the door. Max backed into the shut door as Logan leaned
over her and invaded her
personal
body space. "I'm whole again."
"I
understood the first time around," Max drew into herself. She evaded
the tight position by ducking under his
leaning
arm and walking into the kitchen. Logan, on his regained legs, followed her.
"I
want to celebrate this second chance," he told her. Max refused to look
at him. Some things that she felt inside
were
new and she had to process them before making any chances. Why should she
care about him? All that he
has
brought her has been work. Yet, all she wanted to do was be with him.
"I
don't know what you mean," Max played dumb. Even as she said it, she
winced, knowing how transparent it
sounded
and how she knew he would call her on it.
"Yes
you do," Logan said simply. He walked up behind her and caressed her
shoulders. He could feel her tightened
muscles
in his hands. Max was singularly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid
eyes upon. His attraction was
more
than that though, she had this charisma, stubbornness, and competitiveness
that was a rarity. He kneaded
her
shoulders and felt her loosen up. Instead of her typical strict posture, she
slumped against his chest as he
massaged.
"You're
right, I do," Max agreed. She sagged under the feeling of his hands
upon her body. He bore her weight
upon
his chest. She felt his lips meet her ears and dance with them. The symphony
of feeling that he was
conducting
within her was crescendoing. "Logan," she whispered.
"Yes."
He whispered back, then dropped his head to her neck, rubbing her neck with
his lips. He felt her quiver at
his
touch.
"I've
never done anything like this before," she admitted. Of course she had
"been in heat" and acted a little
promiscuous
but she had never gone "all the way" before.
"We'll
only go as far as you want to go," Logan told her, understanding.
Why
do I feel this way? It is not as if we have the least in common he's a
freedom-riding rich guy, I am a
fugitive
genetically-enhanced girl, Max thought. Those thoughts slid back into the
depths of her mind as feeling
took
over her senses.
"Logan."
"Yes,
Max."
"I'm
afraid," she admitted. Max was surprised to hear herself say that. At
the lab they were taught no such word -
fear.
She had to learn it quickly, the fear of being caught, the fear of never
finding what she sought out, the fear
of
always being alone, the fear of finding out what she truly was. Now, the
fear was that this would be the only
time
these sensations would tingle through her nervous system and fear that these
feelings that she was feeling
were
only a figment of her imagination and not real.
"I
am too," Logan responded. His fear differed from Max's in that, he
feared that he began something he might not
be
able to control or stop. He feared that after having Max, if he lost her, he
would never be sated again.
He
continued to play her body like a fiddle, touching all the right frets to
produce the sound he wanted. She didn't
mind
losing control with him. Damn, it was about time she could lose control. Too
long she had been strong,
independent,
and scared to lose her restraint, scared of being vulnerable and running
from anything or anyone
that
could coerce her into doing so. With Logan, it was different. Max knew that
losing control with him would help
her
gain more control over herself. She could explore facets of herself that she
had never indulged in, and she
could
do it knowing that she had a safety-line.
"Do
something for me Logan," she asked him.
"Anything,"
he rasped.
"Promise
me that this real."
"This
is most definitely real, Max. But it's like a dream for me."
"Me
too."
"Finally
we agree on something," Logan said. He picked her up and carried her
into his bedroom.
``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````
Later
that night, Max was curled in Logan's arms.
"That
was more powerful than I ever imagined," Max admitted. "You know,
we should drop Lydecker a thank-you
note.
If I hadn't been running from him and ended up here, this would have never
happened."
"I'll
make a mental note of that," Logan smiled.
~finis~
