Heaven with a Barbed Wire Fence Chapter Nine
Title: Heaven with a Barbed Wire Fence
Author: Alex Foster
Category: General
Word Count: 50,000+
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A trip home for the holidays turns into a race to protect a young special from The Church of the Nephilim. Claire/Gretchen/Elle triad relationship.
Contains: Polyamory, established relationships, original characters, cursing, misogynist language, threats of violence to a child, sexual situations, descriptions of violence.
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by NBC. No money is being made and no infringement is intended.
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Chapter Nine
Martin peeled out onto the paved road going faster than forty miles an hour. Elle had caught up and kept pace with him on the dirt path and now gave one last look to make sure they weren’t followed. Satisfied that they’d lost the pursuers, she gunned the throttle and swung around him. She tapped the brakes to send a message.
Fortunately, Martin understood and slowed to below the speed limit.
There were so many things she couldn’t explain to the police; a traffic stop was the last thing she needed.
They drove for several miles before passing a marker sign that had a town name on it she recognized from the drive in. It led them back to the highway and the way back to Austin.
Elle thought as she drove, trying to figure out how she was going to cover this without involving Gretchen’s parents. A fresh stab of worry went through her. What if all the excitement with Stephen caused another attack that Lillian and Howard witnessed in full color? She doubted they would be very understanding if they thought Gretchen had suddenly turned special.
It was so much simpler when she was a lone agent, Elle thought. She glanced in the side mirror and saw Martin grim faced and determined behind the wheel of the wagon. He was a kid that up until a few hours ago thought the most troubling thing in life was someone finding his anime porn collection. And how he was helping her run a Company mission because she was family to him.
To hell with simplicity.
Just outside of Austin, Martin flashed the headlights to get her attention. She pulled off the highway into a rest area. There were only three other cars in the stop and Elle directed the bike as far away from them as she could get without looking suspicious. The station wagon’s worn brakes screeched when he pulled up behind her.
Elle hit the kickstand and killed the engine.
Martin popped the driver side door and climbed out. He ran his hands back through his hair and looked off at the road. "That old lady?"
Elle shook her head. "Didn’t make it."
"Jeez."
"Listen, if you need to freak out now is the time to do it. We’re clear and safe for the time being."
He nodded but said, "I’ll be fine. Your phone wants to talk to you. He’s been on this whole time."
Elle walked around the wagon and leaned in the passenger window. She grabbed the phone and looked over the seat at their charge. Stephen still wore his seatbelt and looked out the window at the rest stop, seeing who knew what in his head.
She stepped away and put the phone to her ear. "Yeah?"
"It’s me," Micah said.
"I figured. Got some place I can stash this kid?"
"Yes, I do. I rented several rooms at a local hotel and have another special coming in that can take him from you. Thank you very much, Agent Bishop."
"Don’t thank me yet. Where is the drop off point?"
He gave her directions to an old shopping center several miles away.
"Okay, got it. I’ll let you know when I’m back with Doe Eyes and if there is any change."
Elle hung up and dropped the phone in her pocket. She walked back to Martin and said, "Stephen has his marching orders. I appreciate what you did back there. I don’t do gratitude very well so understand the importance of me saying that.
"Why don’t you take the bike on home and I’ll handle Little Man Tate."
He shook his head and seemed to steel himself. "Nah. Company partners don’t leave each other until the mission is done."
"Yes, we are like Navy Seals that way. Let’s go-I have the directions. Just follow me."
They cut through the outskirts of the city proper and headed into an industrial area. There were only a few cars on the back roads and none that seemed out of place to Elle. She kept an eye on the mirrors to make sure Martin hadn’t picked up a tail.
The meet up point was an abandoned plaza. One large store, its former name scraped off the front, and several outlet stores formed a circle around a sizable parking lot. The outlets provided good cover from passers by on the street.
Elle did a quick pass on the bike and then led Martin to a secluded parking spot and killed the engine. There was no sign of another car or any other people. She didn’t like that. If Micah’s second team ran into trouble too…
Martin got out. "Are we early?"
It really wasn’t a good sign if the probie Company agent even thought something was off. "I don’t know."
Elle began scanning the plaza to determine which store would not only provide the best cover and vantage point, but also was the most defendable.
"Or," Martin said, sounding awed, "we’re right on time."
Elle turned but didn’t see anyone coming in the entrance. No sign of activity at all except for…oh crap.
"Oh crap," she said.
The quickly approaching shape in the sky resolved itself into two individuals. West swung low past the old retail outlet and swept across the parking lot. Claire hung on to him; her arms around his neck and leg hooked around his.
The air around Elle bristled with power.
They touched down several paces away from the wagon and Claire did a short hop step to regain her balance. She smiled. "Hello."
"Hey, Cheerleader." Elle walked to her and kissed her, a little deeper than she might have without the audience. When they broke, she kept her arms around Claire and looked over her shoulder at West. Her expression clear: I won. "Flyboy."
"Bitch." His face softened, like he was only half serious. "Merry Christmas."
"Happy Christmas to you too." The skin around her eyes tightened. "So you’re flying economy these days?"
"Micah didn’t have anyone else close by and he could get here fast. Plus, I was going his way."
"I didn’t think you went his way for some time."
Martin gaped at them. "Wow," he said. "You’re her. Like, Time magazine cover Claire Bennet."
"That’s me." Claire disengaged herself from Elle. "That was a while ago, though. I just go by Claire Bennet now."
Elle stepped to the side and kept her arm around Claire, her hand possessively on her hip. "Meet Martin Berg, the second best out of the Berg clan."
"Nice to finally meet you in person." Claire shook his hand. "Thank you for helping with this. I know it isn’t what you signed up for."
"Anything for big sis’s…girlfriends." He seemed to consider the word choice. "I just can’t believe we have a celebrity in the family now."
"Very minor."
"I don’t know, in the room where the Family of Specials group meets on campus we have a picture of you. All the specials think you’re great."
Elle waved him down. "Okay, big man, she’ll autograph your tits later. Work still to be done here." She started back toward the wagon.
West cleared his throat. "Aren’t you going to introduce me?"
"Oh yeah." Elle retrieved the keys from the wagon and started back. "Martin, this is West. He’s the ex."
"He’s a friend," Claire corrected.
"Ex. Friend." Elle grinned. She dropped the keys in his hand. "Congrats, Flyboy. You’re a dad and I got you a new family friendly ride."
West looked at Stephen still staring blankly out the window. "Okay, thanks. Anything I should know about him?"
Elle shrugged. "Cuban Pete has been calm so far but none of us has really had time to read the dossier. If you start to feel yourself getting…as Gretchen put it…wiggy you might want to gain some distance and call for backup."
"Uh-huh. That backup will be you, right?"
Elle nodded. "Yeah. Micah too but yeah. I’m in this even if Gretchen isn’t any longer."
"Any word on that?" Claire asked. "Have you heard anything?"
"Nothing yet," Martin said. "It has been a little busy though to call."
"You ran into trouble?"
Elle shot Martin a look. "Just the usual. We got away. Nothing to worry about."
Claire seemed to want to say more but didn’t. Elle recognized the signs; they would be talking about that ad nauseam later.
West brought Elle up to speed on where Micah had put them up. He’d made reservations at several hotels, renting multiple rooms at each, under different identities. They would have plenty of space to themselves just in case Stephen proved dangerous.
It went unspoken, but Elle also knew that was to minimize collateral damage if the church found them. She hadn’t wanted to admit it, even to herself, but West was also well suited to get Stephen away quickly if he had to.
"Anyone else feel like they’re being watched?" Martin asked.
"It’s just nerves," Elle said, scanning the plaza again. She did, though. "But why don’t we get this party moving?"
"Good idea," West said.
They all started walking back to the cars. It took some figuring but they finally decided to drive back to the Bergs, drop Claire and Elle off, and Martin agreed to follow to the hotel to make sure he didn’t get lost. The last bit was unnecessary with a living breathing GPS just a phone call away, but it would let Martin unwind on his bike before coming home for dinner.
Decompression was important after a mission like he’d just been on. Elle hoped she would get the chance to decompress too.
~
The help arrived in a nondescript van, thankfully free of any identifiers linking it to the church. Seeing them approach, Light backed away from his partner and let the new team take over treatment. Salt’s wound wasn’t life threatening, that Light could tell anyway, but had bled quite a bit all over the car’s interior.
Trusting his contacts to send the proper people, Light watched as four climbed out of the van. All of them specials.
Waving toward the obvious healers, Light began exploring the demolished playroom. There were toys and game pieces for at least eight different board games among the rubble crunching under his shoes. The house was a loss, fortunately the lack of close neighbors meant they did not have to hurry to leave the scene.
Light’s sense of urgency came from personal reasons rather than practical.
He sorted through finger paintings on heavy construction paper, several showcasing a stick figure with blonde hair and blue arcs of power coming from its hands.
He stared at that for several moments. If there were any paintings of Salt and himself they were lost in the destruction.
"You." Light gestured to a slim woman with sandy colored hair still standing close to the van. "Are you the one I asked for?"
"Yes, Elder. I’ve already started scanning frequencies on the way here. There aren’t many signals to sort through from cell towers this far out-I should be able to trace them for you."
Light smiled a genuine heartfelt smile. God had indeed blessed him with such wonderful acolytes.
~
"You have a lovely home, Lillian," Claire said in her best cheer captain voice.
Elle silently marveled that Claire seemed to work the diplomatic end of meeting the parents much better than she had. Howard chatted with her about holiday travel and crowds. Instinctively knowing better than to give actual details about how she got to Texas, Claire spun one white lie after another about coming in from New York.
Jeez, Elle thought. No wonder she was the unofficial ambassador to their kind.
The Bergs didn’t give the impression they were thrilled the special population had just doubled under their roof, but stayed polite and welcoming.
Elle hoped it had just doubled. Gretchen hadn’t met them when West and Martin dropped them off. According to Lillian, Gretchen had come down for breakfast and then gone back upstairs to unpack and shake off a headache.
She hadn’t been down since.
Elle didn’t like waiting, didn’t like that Gretchen could be an uncontrolled special, but bit her tongue and kept up appearances. From the vice like grip on her hand, she could tell Claire was thinking the same thing.
As soon as they could, they made their excuses and headed up to their room. Jetlag was a good excuse and neither of Gretchen’s parents really wanted them around enough to question them leaving.
They found the room dark with the curtains drawn, but otherwise in order. Their bags were still packed and stacked next to the closet. Gretchen lay on the bed, fully dressed, and asleep. She looked peaceful and not in the grips of an attack like the night before.
Elle breathed a sigh of partial relief. She would let go of the rest of it when she knew if the attack was from an ability or Stephen. Or both. He was a reality bender after all.
Claire sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb her. "She was probably just worn out from last night," she said.
"Yeah." Elle leaned against the desk, folded one arm across her stomach and rested her chin against her other hand. "It was pretty rough."
Claire glanced at her and then back to Gretchen. The doubt visible on her face as well.
"If she is," Elle said, approaching a subject she’d been thinking about since this first started, "do you think we did it to her?"
"It doesn’t work that way."
"Yeah, but what is that thing Suresh was talking about a couple of years back? Exposure Theory, or something like that? That latent specials can be activated by exposure to specials? Maybe it is true."
Claire shook her head. "I don’t believe that."
"Well, I started early and I was around specials."
"That’s not why."
"But what if it is? I mean, we’ve done stuff to her, Claire. Concurrently. What if we fired up her DNA or whatever and completely changed her life? Not to mention her family life. Jesus, one of us needs to have a normal family situation."
Claire got up and walked to the desk, leaning in close. Elle wasn’t one for invasion of personal space, but she made an exception for this. "I truly don’t believe that is what happened. And if our concurrent activities can make someone a special then we have some mad skills.
"If she is a special, then it was always going to happen. And whatever that means for her parents was always going to happen too. The only difference we make is that we’ll be there for her to help her along."
A little of the tension left Elle’s body. A small part of her hated that the cheerleader could do that to her, work her like playdough. Another part kind of dug it.
"We are pretty good at managing weird situations," Elle said at last. "She could do worse."
Claire leaned against the desk and copied Elle’s pose. "She could."
They sat in silence for a moment.
"And maybe she isn’t one of us," Elle said. "We don’t know for sure yet."
"Very true."
Elle smiled. "If she isn’t maybe we could still make that middle class fantasy thing happen. The ship may have docked for her but you never got any kind of lucky in your childhood bedroom so we could just pretend."
Claire hesitated just a second longer than normal. "Nope, never did. Not at all."
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