An Angel Sent Me
An Angel Sent Me
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DISCLAIMER:
SeaQuest and her chars are not mine, but the new gal is.
Some kind of
Angel....
She awoke with a splitting headache.
blinds was too bright; she curled up and pulled the covers over her head.
much; her ribs ached, and her foot was on fire.
Wrenching her eyes open at last, she groaned loudly, and managed to push
herself up on her good arm.
blood. Her left arm dangled uselessly at
her side; her left foot still had glass and a nice red-black hole in it.
bruised. Her head must be okay;
otherwise she wouldn’t have woken up at all.
At least I made to the bed before
I passed out this time, she thought dazedly.
pain. Pain was her life now, with this
path she had chosen for herself.
Gingerly, she turned and maneuvered her broken arm into an opening in
the headboard, and braced herself.
held it, and wrenched it hard. Her face
distorted with pain and a squeak escaped her, but at least she’d fixed it.
she thought fuzzily, and dig the glass
out of my feet. And take care of where
Alexander drove that damn screwdriver into my foot.
bathroom adjacent to her bedroom.
yelling in his controlled panic. Lucas
sighed and shook his head as the SeaQuest took another hit.
wizard? He was only capable of moving
and fixing things so fast!
Wolenczeck! We need that NOW!”
started with the first wave of firepower.
The shockwave jerked him so hard that he hit his head on the panel in
front of him. Blood spilled out of small
cut on his forehead. He ignored it.
bridge. Another hit set off the alarms
that had as yet not gone off. Water
sprung in sudden leaks all over the place.
sir!” Lucas didn’t know or care who had
said that. He was almost there… just a
few more adjustments…
out. “Okay,” he yelled, “Hang on—I just
need to cross a few wires and it’ll be fixed!”
He shoved his chair aside, and tore off the panel underneath his work
station. Thank God I never remembered to replace those stripped screws,
Lucas thought absently. He slid under
the sector, and scrutinized the wires.
In a moment, he found the correct ones.
extracted his pocketknife (a birthday gift from Nathan) out of his belt.
ends. He tore off a bit of his shirt,
and connected the ends of the wires, holding them with the cloth.
shout. Ford, I think.
yelled, “Gotta keep the wires connected, so get us outta here fast!”
happily.
Bridger, “Fire when ready!”
explosion. Lucas felt the wires getting
hotter-- but if he let go, they’d lose Navigation.
everyone; no one needed to worry about anything other than getting out of here
at the moment. “Hurry!” he urged
frantically.
HERE!” Lucas could feel his flesh on
fire. He didn’t dare let go…
Lucas’s direction. What was up with him?
Nathan, hurrying over to Lucas, “Lucas—“
were too hot. Lucas screamed, let them
go; he felt his flesh rip away from the burning metal.
hands. Nathan and Ford were at his side
in a heartbeat, dragging him out from underneath the panel.
get him to Sickbay,” he said. Each man
took an arm, draped it over their shoulders.
clearing a little, “I can walk by myself.
It’s just my hands—I burned them.”
He held them out in front of himself gingerly—they were laced with red
and black, horribly burned; his skin was still bubbling angrily.
“I’m going with you,” he said firmly, “Commander Ford, you have the Bridge.”
reluctantly. Nathan and Lucas left.
tired muscles. She soaked in the tub,
digging glass out of her feet; dropping the red pieces into the wastebasket she
had for just this reason. The worst of
it was over; she had most of it out.
blood. She submerged her feet, pouring
peroxide over them in case of infection.
She sat up and pulled the plug.
Pink water surged down the drain, erasing the memory of red.
nothing. She pulled the band out of her
luxurious red hair; it spilled down into the water, over her shoulders,
covering her torso completely. If she
stood up, it would reach past her waist.
did stand up… slowly. Tentatively, she
placed weight on each foot. Satisfied,
she flicked on the shower, turning the spray to gentle.
her body and massage her bruised face.
Only then did she grab soap and gently cleanse herself.
filled the air; her muscles welcomed the massage.
wash her hair with both arms. Dirt and
grime were swept away; some of the traces of her work disappeared down the
pipes. Gratefully, she stood under the
spray and let it cascade over her until it ran cold.
much trouble; she gave herself a cursory tousling, and then survived wrapping
the towel around her head. She decided
that bra and panties were worth it, but real cloths were too much of a bother,
so a housecoat would do. She gave
herself a once-over in the mirror, and couldn’t abide more than that.
I’m a sight!*
her still-bleeding feet in gauze and tape.
At least it’ll keep infection from
settling in… and make it a bit easier to walk.
bloody sheets and stuffed them in the washing machine.
blood wouldn’t show up if the color got absorbed at all.
black, she thought acidly.
she’d made earlier, knowing she’d be too tired to do anything but microwave and
stuff her face. I practically live on finger-food… anything else requires too much time
and effort… that is, if I eat at all.
Applesauce was another good choice; milk soothed her parched
throat. After that: several glasses of
water in secession. Then more sticky
rice and some pre-cut cheese. There—now
if her jaw could manage some carrots or lettuce at lunch, she’d have most of
her food groups. At least, she’d cover
the most important ones. Peanut butter
would also come in handy… and toast.
energy to actually cook something.
enough R and R. Time
to get down to business… again.
She sighed, and leaned her head back in the chair.
to plan, and well. My next case is gonna
be… She never did get to finish that
thought. She had just enough time to
sense that something was wrong before all Hell broke loose:
sending glass everywhere. She dove under
the table, scraping her knees on the fragments.
More of it bit into her feet (dammit,
again) and back; the table splintered
above her. She scrambled out of the
kitchen into the hallway. Walls were
turned to Swiss cheese around her; somebody kicked down her front door.
when it exploded in flames in front of her.
Flying embers scorched her face and hands, but she bolted towards the
bathroom. She had one more trick up her
sleeve, kept in top shape just for this occasion.
for a surprise.
scuttled inside. She had enough time to
think Smart bastards!
her bad arm. Then it was elbow-to-jaw,
knee in the stomach, punch-‘em-in-the-nose and he was out like a light.
shut. The button was… ah, underneath the
sink. So were the knife, pistol, and
bullets. There was a satchel in the
hamper… she grabbed it, stuffed everything in, and scarfed a shirt and pants
before they started pounding on the locked door.
it revealed. She shimmied down, shut it,
and set off as fast as she could through a tunnel in front of her.
into Swiss cheese reached her.
before the shield generator kicked in. A
few seconds later, and she would’ve been caught in it as well.
progress at irregular intervals. It
would be nightfall before she would surface in the boathouse on the West side
of the island; she had “lived” on the North end.
when I get out of here, there will be HELL to pay… for BOTH sides!
soaked, weary, and scraped people on their way to sickbay.
cold and tired. Shock, he thought with a strange calm, I must be in shock. Yeah,
“shock” alright. Vaguely detached at
his own caustic humor, he allowed himself a small smile.
and held on to his waist when they had to use ladders.
usual. Sweat dotted the young man’s forehead,
but not a lot. They were almost to
sickbay when Lucas stumbled. Nathan
caught him, but not before the burned flesh made contact with the floor.
gone. Something between a yelp and a
gasp escaped him, and tears stung his eyes.
Quick as he could, Nathan dragged him into sickbay.
once. She grasped his other arm, and
helped him to a bed. Bandages,
antiseptics, and other medical tools lay neatly on a tray nearby.
and poured the liquid over the burned area.
Lucas sucked in air so fast he coughed; Nathan held him upright, holding
him firmly by the shoulders and rubbing his back.
cry. Westphalen had seen burns before,
but it sickened her to see them scarring Lucas’s beautiful hands.
scrub the wounds, but decided to give him a local anesthetic first.
Lucas,” she said gently, forcing him to look at her.
didn’t realize he was; she injected him with the medicine—first in the right
hand, then in the left. He winced, but
made no sound. Nathan covered him in a
blanket when he started shivering again.
Kristen frowned, knowing he was in shock, but the burns were more
important. She caught Nathan’s eye—‘
you remember the time I first heard
“You damn near wet your pants; you were so surprised.”
grateful for the distraction; it was unnerving to watch the doctor work.
least I can’t feel anything.
very sick.
meeting with the UN senators, and couldn’t figure out the translation device?”
podium!” Nathan had to laugh at that
one.
supposed to put it? Anyway, it turned
out to be life-saving, didn’t it?”
“You got a point there. And I’ll never
forget
Hell, nobody can stand your
music!”
time. He was decidedly going to be sick.
I’m gonna be sick.” Dr.
Westphalen didn’t lift her gaze for an instant.
“Nathan? There’s a wastebasket
right behind you on the left.” It was
retrieved, and not a moment too soon.
Nathan managed to find a tissue, and wiped Lucas’s mouth for him.
over the wastebasket again.
Westphalen was done with him. “What in
the hell were you thinking, Lucas?” she yelled, now that she had attention to
spare, “Holding onto the wires like that!
It was stupid!”
whisper now, “We would’ve been dead or boarded by now if I hadn’t… the former
more likely than the latter. It was up
to me to fix it, so I did. The only way
I knew how,” he paused to swallow another fit of dry heaves, “Was to hotwire
the damn thing.” Kristen shook her
head. “Next time, find another way to do
it. Use your shirt to protect yourself,
or something, but don’t use your bare hands!”
through the cloth I had wrapped around ‘em!”
The doctor and the captain exchanged glances.
hurt again, and all he wanted right now was some sleep.
realized that the doctor was talking to him.
“Lucas!”
next twenty-four hours, then you can go back to work for awhile,
right back to bed. Got it?”
don’t care. I wanted some sleep
anyway. And at least she isn’t keeping
me in Sickbay the entire time.
still punch the buttons on a personal computer.
ponytail a long time ago, but there were pieces of it falling into her
eyes. It was so dirty, it looked more
like a chocolate brown than red-gold, and it matted to her head.
blood.
rubbed into the cuts and scrapes; she had dug out the glass already, and used
most of her housecoat as bandages. Her
shoulder hurt where the one asshole had jumped her, wrenching her left arm out
of her socket. normal'>Thank God I’m ambidextrous!
here and off this Godforsaken island; get somewhere where she wouldn’t be
found. There are a couple of uncharted islands off the coast of
I’ve got to be nearing the
boathouse by now.
intersection of tunnels she needed. She
stepped out of her tunnel, and was finally able to stand upright.
going. She checked her guns; loaded
them, and put one back in the satchel.
Slinging the bag over her right shoulder, she kept the gun she’d taken
from her jumper in hand and ready to fire.
Slowly, limping slightly, she made her way down the tunnel that would
take her to the secret door in the boathouse.
tunnels that criss-crossed the island, but she was grateful to them.
undetected for years now, and she hoped that she coretureturn someday… when her
trail wasn’t so hot. She started to
wonder what those scum had done to her house, but squelched the idea as soon as
it occurred to her. She wouldn’t be
returning to get her things; in her line of work, this was as routine as coffee
was for some people… normal, safe, deceived people.
Enough! She needed to plan—stay
one step ahead of these guys.Would they
have discovered her boathouse by now?
Were they waiting for her up ahead?
Her mind worked furiously, considering every possibility she could think
of. Well,
basically, if the boate fae fails, I’ll make for the southeast corner and swim
around to the south end. Once there, I
could take the Penny out and make for
Ack—I hate being cold
didn’t make sacrifices. Not for the
first time, she fumed about the circumstances that had put her in this
position.
being called. He had just put Lucas to
bed; the boy—young man, Nathan
corrected himself—had barely seen the
pillow and he was asleep. He turned
around, and saw Commander Ford jogging to catch up with him.
Ford was a bit out of breath when he caught up to the Captain, “But we do have
fire control back online. Decks five
through eight are flooded, ten through fifteen cleared but damaged.
about an hour. How’s Lucas?”
nod. The two resumed walking slowly,
“He’s asleep. Doctostphstphalen ordered
him off for the next twenty-four hours, but he should return to duty after
that.” Ford nodded solemnly.
he said soberly; Nathan agreed. “Thought
you should know,” Ford continued, “That there’s an island near us that’s not on
any of the charts. We think the Buzzards
came from there, but we’re not sure. We
haven’t detected anything else in the water… yet.”
Nathan turned to Ford in question. He
nodded.
haven’t seen the last of these guys.”
glanced at the floor, then at Ford’s face.
we got this close to the island,” his face was earnest, serious, “Why?
pondered that. “How soon can the repairs
be made?” he asked.
give or take.”
a scouting party to the island in the morning.
Meanwhile, keep watch around the clock; I want to be notified the moment
anything changes. And BE CAREFUL.”
sharp nod and salute. Then he jogged off
towards the bridge. Nathan continued on
down the hallway to his own quarters adjacent to his office, deep in thought.
his life awakened Lucas out of a feverish dream; he had rolled over on one of
his bandaged hands. Squeezing back
tears, he gently extricated the offending appendage.
in his room, and the lights were off.
thought dazedly, duh.
Westphalen had given him, but he couldn’t reach them; he had no strength.
being tired unto death!
quietly, and Tony tip-toed in. Lucas
cleared his throat, only just realizing his mistake, his mind being groggy from
sleep.
Tony jumped about three feet in the air and spun around
on his heel.
“Lucas!” his tone was both sheh anh and accusatory,
“Jesus, Luke, you scared the shit outta me!
Why the hell aren’t you asleep?
You need your rest!”
not that I would know.
hand,” Lucas explained sleepily, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as Tony turned
a lamp on, “Can’t reach my painkillers,” he finished hoarsely, sitting up
gingerly. Tony was at his side in a
second flat.
the pills. He handed them to Lucas.
looking like a worried parent fussing over a child.
damn if he isn’t embarrassed either.
Lucas would’ve grinned if he hadn’t been so tired; he shook his head,
and then winced.
he ordered kindly, helping Lucas back under the covers.
His roommate was asleep in seconds.
man across from him. He shook his
head. “You’re one tough cookie, kiddo,”
he said affectionately, and then he turned out the light.
to the floor—somewhere in the vicinity of the footboard. He settled himself in
for the night, not bothering with his own covers.
Lucas’s rhythmic breathing and the SeaQuest just being a ship.
darkness... he could just make out Lucas on the other side of the room.
the hell...? Why did I wake up?
whimper. Poor guy must be having a nightmare.
up in the dark, “Wake up, man!” There
was no answer. Lucas suddenly flung off
the sheets, tossing his head fitfully.
to his friend’s side. He flicked on the
lamp. In the dim light, he could see the
sheen of sweat over Lucas’s face. He was
very pale; his breathing was shallow. He
whimpered again. “Lucas!” Tony shouted,
shaking the young man with alarm. He
felt Lucas’s forehead, and decidedly hit the panic button.
bringing in Lucas Wolenczak!”
dully as she walked out of Sickbay and into her office, where Nathan, Ford, and
Piccolo had gathered. Worry was etched
into everyone’s features—Nathan was impatiently pacing the floor.
still in his boxers and a tank top, perched restlessly on the edge of a low
filing cabinet.
continued, too worn out for emotion, “But that’s not the least of our
problems.” Three pairs of anxious eyes
met hers expectantly; afraid to hear what was next.
meds I gave him,” she sighed, running a hand over her hair, “He has some kind
of rare allergy to Xyocine, a new chemical in prescription pain meds used to
treat burns. It caused his seizures and
bad sweating,” she stopped and leaned against the closed door.
rank and Order of Succession.
she said, and finally, “I don’t know... how long he has.”
through,” Nathan was quick to respond.
Tony and Ford each agreed, sounding off mumbled affirmations and
support—none of them looked entirely convinced.
But all of them were desperate.
Westphalen sighed.
Xyocine,” she said, pretending renewed vigor, “You three go back to your
posts. If you have any strings that
might help us out, pull ‘em. Anybody—a
doctor, a nurse, the Biology teacher you had in seventh grade—anybody you can
think of that might help us out. We’ve
got to do what we can... while there’s still a chance.”
officers. “I want you to spread the
word—whoever you can get hold of, tell them.
Most of ‘em will be wanting to know about Lucas anyway, so best to get
the word fastfast. Move it guys—we don’t
know how much time we’re actually playing with here.
on.” Both Ford and Tony gave the
smartest salute in the history of the SeaQuest, and departed at fair nigh a
run.
when the hell did this happen? She thought frustrated, viewing the cave-in
before her, So much for a quick
get-away. I’ll have to dig my way
through. Ack, hell! Rocks, timber—
boathouse.
destroyed beyond repair. Huh, stupid
question.... look it where you are girl!
This is not exactly
it.”
satchel and started digging. The only
way out was through there, and so that meant losing precious time tunneling
into the instable roadblock.
before. Hell, if I can jump through fire
I can squirm into this mess. And it’s
not as if it’s quicksand, like when you facing off with that giant, mutated
alligator those UN idiots woke up! Or
how about rescuing Legs? Boy, now THAT
was a trip!
how astonished Legs had been to find her.
Legs had proven to be a wonderful pupil—and one of the few people she
could consider a friend. They were more
like sistersen ien if they didn’t contact each other too much anymore.
messages heavily encoded and in a language they themselves had developed.
blood.
could...
work, but she kept going. She had
learned long ago how to ignore pain and make your body obey your mind.
had both learned the control like the finger of God had suddenly descended and
cut off all feedback to their nerves.
She pushed muddy hair out of her eyes.
point in her life. There were so very
precious few of them left... She shook
her head, wincing at the tight muscles. Hard
physical work always made her mind wander; it prevented her from concentrating
on how badly she was treating her body so she could push herself farther every
time. And pushing the limits of her body
was necessary for her job... you didn’t last long in that type thing if you
couldn’t take the physical and mental abuse.
doing what she was doing.
one too many roadblocks in my life. She
had always thought she would be doing something wonderful with her life at this
point... but all she had gn oun out of it was the need to keep scrounging, keep
going; she had no end to what she had to do.
There was a big empty spot in her soul that needed filling, and now that
she had started down this path, there was no way off of it; the forest would
still be the same, and the trees just went on forever.
is that digging through mud always gets me thinking
philosophically? She was almost half-way through now.
this is taking too long.
other way is there? You deed yed your
place to have only one escape route to prevent being taken by surprise... yeah,
fat lot of good it did me.
complicate things too much. And attract
unwanted attention. Well, then, what
choice to I have? So she kept at
it.
it. Food would come later, when she
could afford the time and risk involved in stopping.
down for a few days to recuperate, and get back to business instead of business
finding her. Sweat stung her eyes, so
she wiped it away, smudging more muck across her forehead.
before she’d been... coerced... into moving, she didn’t want to know what she
looked like now. She had never been a
vain woman, but she at least liked to be cl
feel herself getting close to the other side.
Just a few more... she was through!
Squirming, grunting, and hurting, she pulled herself from the
rubble. She fell through the smalpenipening, landed with an out-rushing of air that burned her lungs.
consciousness spinning madly. With iron
control, she centered her dizzy mind.
be at the boathouse. What a relief!
her vision blurred momentarily. Taking a
deep breath, she half-crawled half-walked towards the secret opening in the
back wall of the boathouse. She prayed
that it was at least still standing... she could take care of any interference,
but it wouldn’t do her any good if the place was destroyed.
the Penny is still operational... I wonder if Legs is anywhere near that she
could... NO! You can’t put that kind of
responsibility on her. You can’t depend
on her help this time—it would be asking too much of her, and she deserves to
have a shot at a normal life. Lord knows
I sure as hell don’t... I’ve done too much... things I’m not really proud of...
things I’d never tell a soul—alive or dead.
Huh, how did Legs put it? Oh,
yeah: nothing left to win, nothing left to lose.
through someday. Well, she broke
through; no use in dragging her back... it would be too unfair to her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toni
dug through his dresser, yanking on the first pair of pants and shirt that he
came into contact with. He was dressed
in seconds, barely registering what he had on.
He tried not to look at the unmade bed to his left.
He sped out of his room, colliding with Lonnie
Henderson. They fell to the floor in
heap.
“Ouch! Hey, Tony,
watch it!”
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Tony realized he was babbling, and
managed to pull Lonnie to her feet. “I
wasn’t watching where I was going.”
“Well, obviously!” Lonnie brushed off her unm, “m, “How’s
Lucas?”
“Lucas? Oh,
well... he... he’s in a bad way,” he took a deep breath, ran a hand over his
short h
infection, and that he some kind of reaction to the meds she gave him.”
of horror and sympathy. Tony was
breathing hard, trying not to cry or panic (though it was a bit late foe
le
latter, he decided). He needed to go for
a swim.
He needed to tell
someone had to tell
He didn’t realize that
contact.
“I’m
sorry,” Tony said, his voice a bit shrill to his own ears, “I guess I’m just
really shook up about what happened.
“I mean, there he was when I tip-toed in last night.
sleep... but I woke up. At... at first,
I thought maybe he was just having a nightmare—he has ‘em sometimes, you
know—but I couldn’t get him to wake up.
I couldn’t get him to stop...”
Here, his voice failed him. He
squeezed his eyes shut against the tears, but they came anyway.
especially in front of somebody... somebody he KNEW... especially when Lucas
was....
arms. I bet he didn’t even know that he’d fallen to the ground, she
thought. She didn’t say anything, just
held him in the empty corridor, rocking him like she had rocked...
won’t think of that, she decided vehemently,
now. She looked down at Tony as she
held him against her shoulder. She
stroked his head, And
Ford ran into O’Neil just as he rounded the corner from
Sickbay. He grabbed the younger man by
the arm to steady himself; Tim held onto the ladder he’d just climbed up.
“What’s wrong, Commander?” Tim asked, concerned.
second. How do I tell him that his best friend might die any minute? he
thought wildly. For a pointed moment in
time, Ford had no idea what to do. He
panicked.
But then, just as swiftly as he had been overcome, he was
the same again. He was alright again:
Lucas wasn’t going to die, (he’s NOT,
Doc Westphalen would heal the infection.
“I’ve just come from Sickbay,” he said, trying to recover
the awkwardness. Tim nodded, waiting for
him to continue; impatient, but obviously willing to wait and listen.
understood pain and patience. God love
that man... if, indeed, I believe in God.
“Lucas had an allergic reaction to the meds Doc gave
him,” he said finally, deciding that the direct approach was the best, “Plus,
he’s got an infection in his hands from the burns.
she can get...” He trailed off.
mentioned the allergies, but his face had become hard as stone when he heard
what kind of condition Lucas was in.
Ford was sure that he’d never seen Tim so... so.... so... shuttered;
closed up; cold. Disturbed, he watched
O’Neil warily, waiting for a reaction.
“Do you know anyone who can help?” he asked him, trying
to get Tim to respond. O’Neil glanced at
the ground, then up at his commander. He
straightened up rigidly, until he was at attention.
“I have some friends over at the
them at once, sir,” Tim replied, his voice clipped and carefully controlled,
“And I think that one of them is friends with a guy over in the Drug
Administration and Inspection building in
Ortiz—I think he’s got a cousin who works there too.”
1'> Ford nodded thoughtfully.
He studied the younger man, trying to discern what he was feeling right
now.
“If you know of anyone else who might help,” he said at
last, turning to walk away, “Notify them immediately.
it. Oh—and O’Neil,” he said, looking
over his shoulder, “Spread the word?”
The subordinate officer saluted him, and took off at a dead run for his
quarters. He had calls to make.
Jonathan Ford surveyed the group of people that he was
supposed to take and scout the island with.
Suppressing a grimace, he noticed that most of them seemed
distracted. Damn, I hate giving speeches, he thought, sighing almost inaudibly.
“Look, folks,” he began, “I know that we’re all thinking
of Lucas right now. But you know the
kiddo—he would insist that we carry on without him.
stable,” he said, mentally beating himself up over the fib, “And that we’re
doing everything we can to help him.” He
paused, making sure that everyone was listening.
“So we’re going to go ashore that island, and do the damn
finest job of scouting we’ve ever done.
We wouldn’t want to disappoint Lucas when he wakes up, now would
we? And who knows,” he said, trying to
bolster his own rapidly sinking spirits, “We might even find something to help
him while we’re there. So suit up, and let’s
go.”
To
his surprise, all of his group seemed to straighten up and looked much
better. Lonnie Henderson and Toni
Piccolo met his eyes directly, nodding firmly in response.
lips, as though he was amused that his superior officer had just fed these
people a lie. A small
one, yes—barely a fib—but a lie nonetheless.
well, while Tim O’Neil gave him an encouraging thumbs-up.
man called Sam that Ford had never seen before—saluted him smartly.
“All ready?” Ford asked, receiving nods.
black duffel bag and turning into the docking bay, checking to make sure his
pistol was safely in it’s holster.