Faded Scars
By Camilla Sandman
Chapter Seven
but we're playing a game now, I'm meant to lose ~
But a blue bruise on her arm and the empty needle by her side spoke the truth. No sleep ran that deep. She was dead, an overdose in the dark of the night.
She had slept when the needle had been stuck in her arm and the deadly content empty into her vein. Just as well, for seeing the killer would have devastated her. The man she thought had loved her, had killed her.
One more victim. One more dead. In the final tally, not many would remember her. Not many tears would be shed for her. She had been on the wrong side, a 'bad guy'. But she too, had been a victim. Lured in by pretty words and love, not really understanding what she had been a part of. She should have just started her life, instead it had come to an abrupt end.
She was not the first, and not the last to die too young.
******
Mick woke slowly to the smell of breakfast. It filled his senses comfortably, and his body felt nice and warm. He tried to move his arm, but it was locked under something.
Opening his eyes, he found it to be Alex, sleeping peacefully, her head on his arm and her blonde hair framing her face like a halo. He smiled, and put his other hand around her waist. She sighed in her sleep, softly. He wasn't sure how long he lay like that, it wasn't really a moment he could measure in time. It could have lasted an eternity or a second, either way it wasn't long enough
There was a knock on the door.
“Breakfast!” Frank announced through the door, waited for the muffled reply, then walked back to the kitchen where David and Rachel were scooping up the last pancakes.
“Did you wake them?”
“Yep, they're alive in there,” Frank replied, giving the food a longing look.
“All in due time, Francis,” Rachel remarked, noticing his look. Behind her back David grinned, having nicked one pancake, and waving it at Frank.
“Good morning,” Alex muttered, feeling a bit self-conscious as she walked into the kitchen. The two living legends of the Water Police in the flesh, making breakfast and looking like they could have lived there. Mick seemed a bit more at ease as he came trotting behind her, but then again he'd known them longer.
“You must be David,” she smiled as she noticed the boy. “I'm Alex.”
“Hey Alex..” David smiled, but she noticed the smile didn't reach his eyes. She could imagine her smile didn't either, the brief flashes of amusement and happiness simply couldn't penetrate the deep, deep sadness that was anchored in them all.
She wondered if it ever would.
******
Leaning on her crutches, Emma finally managed to open the door without pulling a stitch in the process. She still felt a bit weak, but being stuck in a hospital bed with noting to do but remember what had happened was starting to drive her mad.
“Hey Helen,” she greeted the inhabitant of the room, who was being helped into a wheelchair by a nurse.
“Emma, hey,” Helen replied softly, waving her over as the nurse wandered off. “Up and about?”
“I've had better means of transport, but I manage. How are you doing?”
“I dunno,” Helen muttered, closing her eyes briefly. “Better, I think.” She did feel better, the physiatrist had helped somewhat and seeing Rachel again had helped even more. She felt tired, like she was running a marathon, but she was beginning to think she would stay upright out the distance.
“How was the memorial service?”
“It was.. you know,” Emma replied. “Almost everyone was there. Even Fiona and Terry came. It was nice to see everyone, even if it was..”
“Yeah.”
“I'm getting discharged today. The hospital is rather overcrowded, so they're letting me go home and have a nurse check on me every now and then and I have to attend physiotherapy for a while.”
“That's good,” Helen encouraged, trying not to think about how long she would be stuck in the hospital. Probably forever.
“Tommy is picking me up a bit later.”
“Good-o,” Helen muttered, not quite sure what to say. She was tired of these well-meaning, straining conversations. They'd all come to see her, insuring her they were there for her, and that she would be fine.
Bullshit. All bullshit. There was no more 'fine', ever.
She'd managed to pry out of Jeff last nigh that there had been an attempt on Mick and Alex's lives and the suspect was thought linked to the American Liberation Movement. Bloody terrorists.
They had killed Tayler. And now that her mind had regain some clarity, cold hate was beginning to flow into her. And it felt good to hate, because it lessened the grief. One minute alone with one of those terrorists..
“I better get back,” Emma muttered, and began the slow process of walking out.
“See ya,” Helen offered, wondering if Emma too had those feelings. The Sydney Water Police was a family. They had lost too many members. And Helen didn't intend to stand by and watch her family being hurt any more.
******
Jeff nearly had a heart attack, and it wasn't even noon yet. It was not looking like it would be a good day at all. Sarah Tuner had been found dead, and no one seemed to know quite how it had been done.
“No one saw anything?” he hissed at poor Donna, who looked terrified. He would have to have a talk to her one day about his yelling, she didn't deserve half of it, but being the messenger of bad news..
“No, sir..”
“Someone had to see something! Get on the phone and find out!”
“Yes, sir..” she scurried out, nearly bumping into the entering Jack.
“Tell me you have good news,” Jeff groaned, but Jack shook his head.
“No fingerprints on the needle besides hers. Forensic is looking, but..”
“Yeah, great.”
“Boss, about Alex and Mick..”
“They're being looked after,” Jeff cut in. “You, Tommy and George stick on this. I want to know how it was done, why, and most important by who. Do this properly, Jack.”
“Yeah,” Jack muttered, walking out. No bloody need to shout like that. Still.. He had an urge to shout himself. Best to give Mick a call to find out how things were going on that end, he decided as he entered his office.
Dropping down on his chair, he reached for the phone and called Mick's home. On the third ring, a very familiar voice answered. He nearly dropped the receiver.
“Mick Reilly's residence.”
“Rachel?” he breathed. What the hell was she doing there?
“Hey Jack,” she said after a seconds silence. He thought he heard Frank's voice in the background and Alex as well.
“You're babysitting Mick and Alex?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “No problems?”
“No, Frank didn't see anyone last night.”
“The shit has hit the fan at this end. Sarah Turner is dead.”
There was a brief silence on the other end, then he heard Rachel relate the news to the others before turning her attention to him again.
“Jack, we think either Erin Wilson or Julian Erskin is connected to the terrorist group. If Sarah is dead.. Can you find out if either of them were near the Opera House on Tuesday?”
“Aw, shit! I heard Julian ask Donna earlier this morning where Alex and Mick were..”
They both absorbed the implications for a few seconds. “Get out of there,” Jack urged, “I'll find Julian.”
“Yeah, all right,” Rachel muttered, hanging up. Frank gave her a look.
“Get Mick out of the shower. We're leaving. Julian have been asking around and found out where you and Mick are,” Rachel told Alex. “Come on David, let's take some pancakes with us and eat at home.”
Her son must have picked up that something was wrong, because he didn't protest. Alex ran to impatiently knock on the bathroom door.
“Shit..!” Frank muttered, “I guess he just moved to the top of our suspect list.”
He stepped up to the window and looked outside. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he felt his instincts silently warn of danger. Bugger. Rachel should never had come over with David, they hadn't been bloody thinking..
“You take David home, I'll take the kids to my place for now.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, and leaned forward and kissed him firmly. “Be bloody careful, Frank. You know..”
“I know,” he replied, walking her and David to the door. “See you, buddy.”
“See you, Frank,” the boy replied, waving.
He watched the two walk over to the car, scanning the area. It seemed to be a normal morning, but the feeling of danger didn't go away. He had been a cop too long not to pay attention to it. That feeling often saved your life.
He waited until Rachel and David were well away, before turning to Alex and Mick, who still had wet hair having been in the middle of a shower.
“Let's go kids,” he announced, a hand ready on his gun. They emerged carefully, glancing around and jumping at every sound. As they were about to reach the car, Mick had a terrible thought.
“Frank! These guys used bombs!” he called out.
Frank stopped dead in his tracks just before he reached the car, his eyes widening.
“Aw, shit..” he began, but the rest of the sentence drowned in the roar of flames as the car shot up in the air and the explosion propelled them all off the ground.
******
At noon, Jeff Hawker nearly had the second heart attack of the day. A car bomb.. Like they didn't have enough troubles already. This was definitely not a good day
Walking through the hallway, he finally reached the hospital room where Rachel was fussing over Frank, while David was watching. The nurse must have wandered off.
“He's fine, thanks to a thick skull,” Rachel informed Jeff, patting Frank lightly on the head.
“Come David, let's see if we can find some ice cream, yeah?” she suggested and her son smiled. The two walked out, leaving Jeff and Frank to stare at each other.
“Alex and Mick are fine, Alex had a sprained ankle, but nothing serious,” Frank said, groaning a bit as he felt the swelling on his head.
“Damn lucky.”
“Damn right,” Jack added, walking in. “Julian Erskin was at the Opera House. He apparently was rescued, but strangely enough, his colleagues haven't talked to him since except over the phone. One of his friends thought he had a cold, because his voice sounded funny. And weirdest of all..” he handed Jeff a photograph
“That's Roger Jackson, he's the brother of the leader. Now he was reported dead, his body found burned, but no DNA testing have been done yet. There's too many bodies..”
“Julian and Roger look like each other,” Frank was thinking quickly, connecting the dots. “He does a switch, then applies for another service because he knows his colleagues will know he's not Julian. He probably starts to plan a great escape for his brother or something.”
“But realises Mick and Alex who were there, might recognise him,” Jeff concluded. “I'll get in touch with the higher powers to track him down.”
Walking out, he left Frank and Jack to look uncomfortably at each other.
“How's Rachel?” Jack finally asked.
“Good, good.”
“Excellent.”
“Yeah.”
Silence ensued. Shifting a bit, Jack wondered what the hell to say. He wanted to ask if Rachel had even spoken of him during the past year, but he didn't know quite how to phrase it. He wasn't even sure Frank would reply.
“Hey Jack,” came the soft voice of Rachel, and Jack turned to see her standing in the doorway, David by her side. Mother and son, both so beautiful to look at it pained him. He should be the one they were smiling at instead of Frank.
“Yeah, so I better..” he muttered, brushing past and trying not to notice her smell. God.. She had always smelled good.
“Go talk to him,” Frank mouthed to Rachel, who stood undecided in the doorway. “Hey David, wanna feel the enormous lump on my head?”
“Eww!” David exclaimed, but walked exited over anyway. “Maybe you're growing a second head!”
“Wouldn't that be cool?”
Throwing a look at the two, Rachel smiled softly, then ran after Jack down the corridor. Frank was right, she had to talk to Jack. For the sake of all of them.
“Jack!”
He slowed down somewhat, but didn't look at her as she walked up to him.
“I've got the point, all right,” he muttered, and kept on walking. He should have known that wouldn't discourage her though. She was just as stubborn as him.
“No, you haven't, Jack. You're so full of self-pity and blame and.. You pushed me away after the stabbing. You were so.. So..” she waved her arms. “Damn angry at yourself you weren't there, you know?”
“It was my bloody fault!”
Her face softened. “Jack.. It just happened. I didn't blame you, but you never asked me. You just assumed I wouldn't forgive you because you couldn't. You added to the pain, and I couldn't carry anymore.”
“Did you ever love me?”
“Yes,” she whispered. He finally stopped walking, looking down at her with a heartbroken look on his face. She wished she could take it away, but it was her that was the cause of it and it was too late to change now.
Reaching out, she put a hand on his cheek. “I'm sorry.”
“Yeah.”
And she kissed him, just a brief brush of her lips before she headed back down the corridor. Jack watched her go, as he had the last time, but this time at least he knew.
And that made it so much easier and so much harder to let her go.
******
Julian Erskin, or more correctly, Roger Jackson, had vanished in thin air. Everyone was looking for him, yet no one could find him. He could be anywhere.
It wasn't a very comforting thought to Mick. He and Alex were in danger as long as the guy was out there. And they wouldn't have a moment to themselves. There were police officers outside the hospital room, and Jack was lurking around somewhere too.
Dropping down on the bed, Mick put his head in Alex's lap and looked up at her. She looked a bit pale, which wasn't too surprising considering someone had just tried to blow them up.
“We're not going to get a bloody moment to ourselves,” he complained. “We're stuck in this bloody hospital till Jeff says otherwise.”
“I know,” she muttered, stroking his cheek. “He's just being protective, you know. We could have been killed.”
“Again. What a week..”
“Tell me about it..”
He sat up again to look at her ankle, which had swollen and was probably spotting several types of purple under the ice pack gently bandaged to it.
“Hurt much?” he asked, looking at it intently.
“A bit.”
He leaned forward to kiss the leg just above the bandage. “Better?”
“Mmm..”
“Alex?” he asked seriously, turning to face her. “What are we gonna do about this?” “This?”
“Us. I mean, do you wanna.. Stay together?”
“I don't know, Michael. There's been so much happening this week, I'm just tired.. But, I do know that I like having you around,” she took his hand and squeezed it lightly. “It's good to have something else to think about, you know. Sometimes I'm afraid this will choke me, that I'll never again..”
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered. “You think things will ever be normal again?”
“No.. But we'll get by,” she said as confidently as she could. They had to, there wasn't much choice after all.
Jack poked his head in, and they both looked up.
“Any sign of him?” Alex asked, of course referring to Roger Jackson. They all knew who 'him' was.
"No,” Jack shook his head. “We reckon he knows his cover is blown and has hit the ground. He's probably given up on going after you two now.”
“Reassuring..” Mick groaned.
“His cover is blown, he has no reason to get at you two,” Jack argued, feeling less than sure himself. This guy wasn't reasonable. He was a bloody terrorist, it was no telling what the guy would do. Bombing Harbour Bridge.. Mad. Madmen.
Madmen didn't need a reason. And so Jack regarded Mick and Alex with worry in his eyes and tried to feel confident they would all be all right.
******
Tommy did come to pick her up as promised, despite looking like he'd got no sleep at all that night Emma noticed. In a low voice, he told her what had happened and his mood made all too much sense.
“But they're fine right?”
“Yeah, Mick and Alex are at the hospital, Jack's there too keeping an eye on them,” Tommy replied, opening the door for her as she slowly made her way in, leaning heavily on the crutches.
“When will this end?” she muttered, easing down on the couch. He looked at her for the longest time before sitting down next to her.
“My family's coming by later,” she assured him, as he looked worried.
“Yeah, and you have my phone number, call me whenever,” he said and she nodded. George had assured her of the same thing yesterday, and it was.. Nice to know.
“I should go,” he said after a while, but made no signs to get up. She took his hand, it just felt natural. He turned to look at her, and slowly, very slowly, he leaned forward and kissed her.
It was soft and very gentle, like he was afraid he could hurt her. She could taste coffee on his lips, rather fresh. Their hands stayed locked as they slowly eased closer on the couch. She had to put his arms around her, he seemed almost terrified of touching her too much.
“It's okay,” she whispered, pulling back slightly.
“I can't lose you,” he whispered back, stroking her hair and pushing it behind her ear.
“You're not going to.”
He looked at her intently, then gave her another gentle kiss and got up. “I really have to go.”
“Call me.”
“I will,” he promised, squeezing her hand one last time. “See you, Em.”
“See you,” she replied, leaning back against the couch. This was even more complicated than her relationship with Mick had been. Couldn't she for once just find something simple? A good-looking, decent, nice guy without a major trauma that she liked and liked her? Was it really too much to ask?
Sighing, she stared up at the ceiling. She wasn't really frustrated with Tommy. It was just an excuse not to think about what was really wrong.
There were so many people that were gone forever. Tayler, Matt, Gavin.. Sometimes she wouldn't think about it for a few minutes, and it would seem so unreal that anyone would bomb Sydney. She'd almost convince herself it was just something crazy she had dreamed, when something would remind her it was true.
Terrorists had attacked Sydney, and no amount of wishful thinking or attempts to forget would change the facts.
******
They waited and waited and waited, tension mounting as time passed and nothing happened. So much had been going on the last days that just waiting seemed.. Strange. Mick could feel something throb impatiently in his blood, he wanted to go out there and find this terrorist bastard, but he couldn't. That was a Special Force task now, Jeff had warned.
They were finally allowed to leave the hospital, and went for Frank's. It was a bloody mess , so they had something to occupy their time with - cleaning. Alex got away, due to her ankle injury and just watched Frank and Mick groan as endless amounts of bottles were carried out. Bottles from another age, it would seem, she couldn't believe it had just been a few days ago Frank and Rachel had come back, they'd all been happy and..
Similar thoughts seemed to occur to Frank and Mick too, they looked rather gloom. Rachel and David stopped by and managed to lift the mood somewhat. But David seemed sad, and they all ended up feeling even worse.
The kid had lost his father, and nothing would bring him back.
Eventually Rachel and David headed off to meet Jonathon's mother. The old woman still seemed to blame Rachel, but David was her grandson. Frank hoped the meeting wouldn't be too nasty, or he would have to have a serious talk with that woman. No one was mean to Rachel while he was still around.
Jack came and went some time later with information on how the chase was going, but it was never good news. Roger Jackson had seemingly vanished from the face of the Earth.
It was a bloody long wait, seconds ticking by like minutes, minutes mounting up like hours.
And when the house was finally clean, it was nothing to do but wait.
“Don't pace, Michael, you're driving me nuts,” Alex complained as Mick took his fifth lap around the living room. He gave her a glance, then dropped down on the couch next to her.
Frank stood in the doorway and wished he'd had the foresight to buy some beers. Waiting really wasn't his strongest side, and it seemed idiotic to just sit here. Yet he had a distinct feeling they were waiting for something. Something was going to happen, but what?
They were waiting – Roger Jackson probably wasn't. What could the guy be up to?
“You think they'll find him?” Alex asked, relaxing her hurt foot on Mick's lap. The painkillers were starting to wear off and a numb pain was beginning to spread. She grimaced; it was going to be a long day. It seemed to snail on by.
“Yeah.. Where can he go?” Mick replied.
“I don't think he wants to go anywhere,” Frank shot in. He was staring distantly out the window. “He's not done yet.”
******
Frank was right.
Walking down the dark corridor, Roger Jackson glanced over his shoulder. No one had followed him, no one even suspected. They were too busy thinking he would run and watching the airports and train stations to even consider he would strike back. Idiots. They didn't understand.
Freedom fighters never ran. The media had called him a terrorist, but they didn't understand either. They believed the propaganda of the government. Roger knew better, he had seen the truth. He and Dayton would make them all see in the end. What were a few thousand lives sacrificed to free millions after all?
He couldn't hear the voice of his conscience anymore wailing about his responsibility for some many dead. It had been a long time since he listened. But a small, small part of him regretted the loss.
Unfortunately, it was a too small part of him to matter any more. The regret was not heartfelt. His heart had died a long time ago, so slowly he hadn't noticed. He lived for the words now, words he was convinced were right. The words would save the world, and he would become know as a hero.
Heroes did what was necessary.
And this time, a message needed to be sent. If Dayton weren't released, it would be havoc on Sydney for conspiring with the leaders of America. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out the bomb.
It was of course rather unfortunate to bomb a hospital, but it was the only way to make them see. They had to understand. It was a war, people died in wars. It wasn't his fault they were on the wrong side.
It wasn't his fault he had to kill Sarah. She could have talked, he had to make sure. She had pledged her life to his battle, she would have understood. It didn't matter that he thought he could have loved her. In war, you lose what you love. You have to be prepared to give up everything.
Putting the bomb down, he looked at intently for a few seconds. His conscience and brain had one last battle before he lifted his hand and prepared to set the timer.
Conscience was dead.
Walking away, he felt nothing.
The light in them I cannot see,
No need to blind me
There's this darkness where I walk~
Please take some time to fill out this feedback form on my writing!
