Terra Nova - Things Lost in the Fire ch17 [Skye/Lucas]
Title: Things Lost in the Fire
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 17/?
Summary: AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: Plot tries to move along for once ;)
Things Lost in the Fire
17. A Dangerous Mind
Skye found herself drifting through the woods, clutching the handle of her knife, drawn into keeping Curran's company once again. She motioned him to follow in her steps while she moved gracefully in the underbrush. He was clumsier but his steps were steadier; he was a soldier after all, not a hunter.
He didn't mind for he'd missed her in her absence, been reminded of just how lonely it was here when she didn't talk nonsense with him, laugh with him. He was here now because she was; He had volunteered for the hunt because she had. Even with the bandages gone from her wrists and the makeshift war paint that fled her flushed cheeks, she didn't look any less fragile. He needed to be here to make sure she was alright; if nothing else he could do that for Taylor.
There were others, but their ranks were spread thin. They searched for prey, signaled in the others and attacked in numbers, forcing their prey down with one swell swoop. According to Mira the hunter parties were gathered at camp, depending on the situation and whoever was available. Mira liked to participate whenever she was around, and Skye heard she'd dragged Lucas with them too once, and that was how he'd gotten the nasty bruise on his head.
This felt like a breath of freedom, knowing there was no one on her tail. Of course if she ran now they'd catch her in no time, yet Skye considered this another step forward on the long and winding road towards camaraderie.
Curran grabbed her hand suddenly, yanking her beside a tree, right next to his side. He pressed himself as flat as possible, his dirty clothing acting as camouflage for curious eyes. Skye hadn't seen what he'd seen, but she held in a breath with tension all the same, believing it was for the best.
"Someone's coming," he told her, voice tainted by uncertainty. She could tell he hadn't gotten a good look at the approaching figure.
"Probably just the watchers changing shifts," Skye suggested, sounding slightly out of breath.
"No," Curran responded, giving Skye another look. His eyes stayed with her cheeks, at the stripes drawn with red chalk that were meant to make her more menacing. Coupled together with the necklace, the leather strings twined around her upper arms and leather shirt she wore, she was starting to look more and more tribal.
"They wouldn't wander alone," he then explained, quenching the desire to brush away the dripping paint from her cheeks. He hoped the attack of this swelter would end already as the heat was becoming unbearable.
Skye stared at his perspiring skin, at the black lines running across his face. They were aggressive, stretching diagonally from his forehead and all across his face to his jaw. She was about to question him about the sense in this when he hissed at her quietly, "Stay here, I'll have a look."
And with that Curran vanished from sight. Skye didn't stop him. She stood by the tree faithfully. Within a few minutes she stopped trying to hold held breath, to keep still, and allowed herself to calm down and move a bit for better view. She picked her steps carefully, sliding closer to where Curran had stood before peeking. She didn't see anything out there.
She turned with a start though, hearing something behind her, and was suddenly face to face with a stranger, her knife pressed against his gut. The man that stood in front of her also had his weapon out in the open, pointed at her chest discreetly. It was loaded and ready to use. Skye shifted her eyes into the stranger's face, searching for an opening.
He was taller than she was, but just by a little. He had dark olive skin, brown eyes set in a round face, neatly cut hair and a dark chin strip beard. He was fit, had muscle and tattoos that stretched across his left arm, the one holding the gun. His breathing was barely noticeable, as if this man was capable of controlling every aspect of his physique. Skye realized quickly she'd be dead before she had the chance to shank him, and the revelation spread sweet paralysis into her body.
"I don't know you," she whispered, fear sinking in. Panic was signaling her body to act, but none of it was getting through.
He took in her words with delight, a bright expression making way for his words. "But I believe I know you."
"I will kill you if you don't back the hell up," Curran's voice warned behind the stranger, relief giving Skye room to breathe again. She spotted Curran's tall figure again a moment later, immediately feeling safer with him around.
The stranger gave her a toothy grin though, backing up a few steps and settling his gun back in its holster. He wore combat boots, a pair of cargo pants, a sleeveless shirt and second shirt on top of it that was open from the front. While he moved, Curran also circled back to Skye with his gun pointed at the man who'd threatened her. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he'd suffer the consequences gladly if he'd have to shoot him to keep her safe.
"Holler the others," Curran said his focus completely on their prisoner. He held his gun with both hands now; keeping his aim to the head, at those strangely calm brown eyes.
Skye did as asked and made the signal, whistling loudly. The whistle resounded in the air, sounding more like an animal than a human. Around them the underbrush began to rustle with the rest of their hunting party gathering at this scene. Skye wanted to look away from this man, yet found his curious stare on her, like he knew a hurtful secret he wanted to expel from his lungs.
Mira was with the others, hair on bundles of braids, yellow war paint on her face. She appeared as proud and fierce as ever as she walked up next to Skye.
The stranger took notice of Mira's approach, and he smiled brightly then and there, a genuine grin creeping to his face. "Mira, this is a pleasure," he said, looking past Skye at the Sixer leader whose entire being became stiff.
"Do you know him?" Skye asked with bewilderment and worry.
"Not yet," Mira responded coldly. Her sour expression revealed just how much she'd been dreading this moment.
"You must be the one Sebastian sent," she then addressed their stranger whilst walking closer and pressing her hand over Curran's gun firmly, lowering its barrel until it was no longer pointed at the stranger. She could tell she'd guessed right even when the stranger didn't respond. "Do you have a name?"
Now the man faced her proud eyes, seeing something he liked. Skye and Curran hadn't been able to challenge him - they'd seen right away that he was dangerous and had feared to get involved - but Mira was right there, questioning his very existence.
"You can call me Morris," he told her, stepping forward and extending his hand. Mira took it without a doubt, shaking it with a firm squeeze. She then turned to the others to address them.
"Everyone keep hunting. Skye, Shiva, Chase, you're with me. We're returning to camp," she said, casting her eyes to Curran next to silence his opposition. Her cold glare left him speechless quickly as the message got through loud and clear. Mira wanted him and Skye separated right now before anything else happened.
Skye pressed her head, threw Curran a discreet glance and mouthed the words 'thank you' to him, feeling genuine gratitude for stepping in before things had gotten ugly. Curran moved away though, refusing to linger now that the order had been given. He knew Skye was somewhat safe as long as Mira was there keeping an eye on her.
The other two whose names Mira had called stepped closer to them. Mira was eyeing their stranger who met her gaze. They evaluated one another silently, a kind of respect forming between them. Skye felt like she didn't even exist at that time, but she was glad for Mira's intervention. This man made her very nervous.
"Alright, Morris, let me show you to the camp," Mira said politely, taking on the role of a generous host. She was greeted by a grateful guest.
"I'd be delighted, Mira," Morris responded and walked right by Skye to walk on Mira's side. Skye stayed behind, walking last in line as the hike towards the camp began. She glanced back at the direction Curran had walked to, a frown forming on her face before she continued with the rest.
"What's the status?" Nathaniel Taylor asked, seated behind his desk, enjoying the shadow after a long day of heat.
"We didn't find anything," Alicia Washington concluded. She was leaning at the wall, fingers twirled around the loops of her trousers.
"Well that's not entirely true," Jim quipped in, a smirk playing on his lips. As usual there was a spark of humor in his voice. "We did learn Boylan conspired with the Sixers to drown us in alcohol," he winked. Jim Shannon stood between the two, walking about in Taylor's office, eyes shifting from Washington to Taylor in turns.
Taylor didn't appreciate his tone, yet he didn't have the stomach to make an issue of out it. He exchanged glances with Washington, saw her shrug with annoyance as well, and left it at that. "How many bottles did you confiscate from pilgrims?" He asked next, sounding largely uninterested.
"Sixteen?" Jim suggested, glancing at Washington who rolled her eyes again. She hadn't bothered to count, because unlike the marshal beside her, she'd been looking for spies not smugglers. Alicia had seen it wise to prioritize her time, while Jim had played a fool with the confiscated licker, his smile brightening whenever he found a new bottle.
"He arranged it before we caught him, I don't think he's doing business with them anymore," Washington said, feeling strangely positive about this.
Jim made a face at her nonchalant approach and disinterest. "You can't know that," he noted, turning his attention at Taylor again, clearly hoping he'd be given the authorization to raid Boylan's operation again.
"By that logic we'd have to assume Josh was still working for them too, because his girlfriend came through," Washington countered, feeling catty. Really she was just taking out the frustration of not finding anything. Lucas had given them a hint, something she'd actually believed for a change, and they hadn't been able to do anything about it.
"My son is not working with the Sixers," Jim mumbled, sounding a tad insulted. He didn't latch onto the words though, for he could tell Washington had a point.
"I'll let it slide for now. Give the man his licker," Taylor announced, eager to finish this conversation. Sure Boylan was a scumbag who profited from the misery of others, but Taylor knew people needed their little vices or they would lose it. A little drinking and gambling every now and then wasn't the problem, resorting to the help of the Sixers was. He honestly believed Boylan wouldn't try it again though.
"I suppose we should be grateful everyone got here safe," Washington tried to chip in and change the subject, speaking more to herself than anyone in particular.
"Except that one guy that fainted from the heat and exhaustion," Jim smiled, his smile vanishing quickly when both Taylor and Washington suddenly stared at him questioningly.
"What guy?" Washington asked sharply, tired of his antics.
Jim frowned, unable to grasp what Washington was so irritated about. "You know, the guy that fainted at the gate and is resting at the infirmary," he explained like it was common knowledge.
Washington reacted with alert though, pushing herself away from the wall and back to her own two feet. Her expression was dire. "There's no one at the infirmary, Jim. All pilgrims got through safe and sound. I checked the records," she claimed.
A heavy silence followed her comments though with all three of them thinking in unison.
"What did he look like?" Washington turned to Jim, ready to extract every bit of information from him.
"He was lean, looked like he'd worked on some construction site: Hispanic, dark hair, a beard. He was dressed like a worker, and he looked the part all the way," Jim responded with a frown, worry sounding in his voice.
He was beginning to grasp it, the unspoken truth. He'd meant to ask Elizabeth about it, but she'd been caught at work and between Zoe, Maddy and having to keep an eye on Josh and Kara he hadn't given any of this a second though. Also he knew someone should've noticed if there was anything off about this guy by now, because they'd been doing everything in their power to snuff out potential infiltrators. They had checked the personal belongings of all new pilgrims and made sure everyone's data matched with their official records. Heck they'd even checked the retinal scans.
And Taylor had his answer then and there. He took an assuring breath, standing up as well, hands over the desk.
"He never arrived to the infirmary, because he wasn't coming to us," he explained with certainty, clearing all doubts in the room. And as much as Taylor hated being right, he just knew it. Lucas had been right to fear a man who'd fooled them all with such ease. Taylor felt a small tinge of respect forming inside him for this infiltrator.
Jim cursed. Washington punched the door frame. And Taylor wondered what had been so bad that Lucas had come to him to prevent this man from reaching the Sixers.
Lucas motioned his guest to sit on Mira's field bed, finding a stool for himself. He would've accommodated them at his hut, but he didn't want this man anywhere near Skye, not after seeing how she'd returned from the hunting trip looking so visibly shaken. His intuition had traced the source of her trepidation to the man in front of him.
Mira had emerged from the woods early, followed by the operative they had failed to get rid of. Mira had then introduced them, suggesting they exchange a few words in privacy, offering her hut as a place of converse herself. Lucas had accepted willingly, watched discreetly as Mira had guided Skye away from them, keeping her silent, undoubtedly whispering new guidelines to her. Lucas made a mental note to himself to thank Mira for her efforts.
His gaze fell on the operative again. He was sitting down as instructed, appearing casual and comfortable in these new surroundings. He was nothing like Lucas had imagined, yet Lucas didn't allow first impressions to cloud his judgment. This man had succeeded in getting past the security at Terra Nova and then just hiked to them like it required no effort. He knew better than to lull himself into a false feeling of security.
"I'd offer you a drink," Lucas said courteously, hands spread on his sides, "but as you can see, we don't live that luxuriously."
The operative, Morris as he'd introduced himself, just smiled back and reached for the back pack he'd dragged along with him. "No worry, I brought some with me," he assured, pulling out a bottle of whiskey.
Lucas' eyes spread in shock at seeing such expensive commodities here in the wilderness. He was more surprised that this man had gotten such an item past the security though. But he didn't hesitate when Morris handed the bottle to him; Lucas found them cups and poured them both shots of the expensive drink.
They toasted without the usual verbiage, exchanging knowing looks. Lucas drank only some of his slowly, whilst Morris emptied it with one quick gulp.
"I needed that," Lucas remarked, putting his mug away, the taste of whiskey branding his lips.
"I believe you," Morris responded, eyes surveying Mira's private sanctuary curiously. His sharp eyes noticed a lot of details concerning this woman he'd met earlier. He memorized everything he could, knowing he'd find the right moment to have a similar talk with her in private. He suspected he'd enjoy that one more than this though.
"I hear things have been rough lately," Morris commented, gulping as the whiskey still burned his throat. He coughed a bit after that.
"What do you want?" Lucas cut to the chase, eager to be rid of the pleasantries. Mira had kept up her good cop cover they had agreed upon, but he didn't need to. He could be just as ruthlessly honest as he wanted to, and the truth was he didn't want this man here.
Morris raised a brow, showing no other visible reaction to the direct question. "I don't want anything," he claimed seconds later.
"Bullshit," Lucas responded.
"Fine," Morris admitted, leaning his back against the supporting pole behind him. "I want us to be friends, Taylor," he then said, making no big deal out of it.
Still it was the last thing Lucas had expected. In his mind's eye he'd seen this man come here, start giving orders and making their lives difficult and then reporting back to Sebastian. Worst case scenario had always been deeming them incapable of handling things, and then getting rid of them.
"I don't want any friends. I have all the friends I need right now," Lucas responded coldly, ignoring the offer that he'd deemed a mere ploy.
The heat was getting overbearing; they were both covered in sweat and its heavy stench. Sweat had gathered onto their clothes, it made the fabrics latch onto their skin. Mira's hut had a fresh scent though, something unique and irritating that wouldn't leave Lucas alone. Morris didn't seem that bothered by it, even as Lucas pulled his collar loose with his fingers, struggling to withstand that dryness in his throat. He just watched Lucas calmly, his previous playfulness vanishing.
"You're not the kind of man to make friends, Taylor," he then noted, sounding more formal already. "I recall that the last friend you had applied for a transfer to a different unit to get rid of you and your obsessive behavior. David Summers, was it?"
Morris struck Lucas with his insight, this intimate reveal that he hadn't shared with anyone in this timeline. But Lucas recalled the incident all too well; how he had pulled some strings to get his former flat mate a prestigious position, and then getting abandoned as David realized how absorbed Lucas had become with his project - the fracture and everything surrounding it. David had claimed it was impossible to work with Lucas.
"How would you know about that?" Lucas wondered aloud, frowning. He was not pleased one bit that this interloper seemed to know such things about him. It had to mean Morris had studied him and possibly other key players closely before coming through, and that spelled trouble.
Morris leaned a bit closer now, a victorious expression on his face. "Of course I know," he stated arrogantly, slumping one arm over his thighs whilst rubbing his beard with the other. "I've studied you, just like they did before recruiting you," he revealed nonchalantly, making no big deal out of it.
Lucas absorbed this information, a confirmation to the conclusion he'd reached himself too. "Should I be flattered?" he asked cynically, trying to reign in the anger of having his background probed and checked.
Morris made a face at Lucas' comment, signing it off with a lazy hand wave. "You don't come off as a very nice person on paper," he said, trying to recall details the best he could. He swallowed and raised a finger then, listing a few things he'd found interesting.
"There were a few assault charges - all dropped of course," he said. There was a lingering pout on his face, a sign of disapproval that annoyed Lucas more than the truths this man was laying out.
"And then one colleague called you a budding psychopath, and somehow I don't think that's because you claimed she'd stolen some of your research. She might've been more put off by the very visceral threats you sent her way."
Again it was true, but Samantha Ferris had indeed tried to get into Lucas' good graces and then proceeded to steal his research. Lucas had dealt with it, and Samantha had made a quick exit from his life.
"A former girlfriend describes you as an uncaring asshole for the two months you were seeing one another," Morris mentioned, clearly trying to bait him. Lucas didn't fall for that either; he remained stoic and unmoved. Maya Killmore had been as shallow as they came, but she'd been a pleasant distraction for awhile. Of course once she'd started getting ideas about them, he'd given her a piece of his mind.
"Not to mention your therapist who recorded rage issues, had a strong suspicion of PTSD and some kind of twisted oedipal complex," Morris concluded, running out of fingers to lift up. He was looking right at Lucas now, expecting a reaction to these insights.
Lucas responded by shrugging. "I make a fascinating read apparently," he quipped and took another sip of his drink. For a moment there, he actually believed he was untouchable, that the dark place inside him was well hidden and Morris had nothing on him.
Morris didn't hesitate to play another card though. He frowned gingerly and remarked, "Why is Skye Tate still here?"
That caught Lucas' attention and drew out a genuine reaction. Suddenly Lucas was all ears.
Morris noticed he'd gotten through and continued, "She's outlived her usefulness, don't you think?" His brown eyes were full of confidence. He enjoyed twisting the knife, pointing out weaknesses, breaking others.
"That's for me to decide," Lucas noted, eyes narrowing as he was beginning to get the hang of this game. They had doubts, obviously. And the operative was here to uncover the truth and then deal with it. The only question that remained was how far would this man go?
He noticed too late how Morris' gaze was fixated on his hand still grasping the mug a bit too tight. His tenseness was visible; the shadow of doubt had crept to his face.
"So you're sleeping with her," Morris concluded with amusement. "She seems awfully young," he threw in a moment later, as if recalling Skye's face.
Lucas wanted to kick himself for not doing a better job at hiding her, for thinking his father could've actually prevent the arrival of this man. "She's old enough," he responded grimly, unwilling to go there. Also it was useless to try and hide it if Morris was already assuming and not insinuating.
A cruel grin spread on the operative's face. "Aren't they always?"
It was enough to get Lucas to bolt to his feet, thunder back at his unexpected guest, "You flaunt the records that prove my short temper and then proceed to irk me."His lips pressed into a thin line, every trace of friendliness replaced by hostility. "Not a smart plan," Lucas noted.
Morris stood up as well, a bit shorter than Lucas, but clearly capable of handling himself. He didn't perceive Lucas as a threat, as much as clear in the way he stared right back at him, void of fear.
"I only have facts, history. You've been off the grid for five years. Things change," Morris explained with the sense of success all over him. Lucas could see his muscles were flexed and his jaw line all tense.
"Not that much," Lucas claimed, hoping he could erase the doubt. He needed to convince this man nothing had changed; that he would still gladly serve the Company as per their agreement and deliver the calculations to them, even with the doubts Skye had planted in his mind.
But Morris could see his bluff. He could see this man wasn't the angry academic, the short-tempered hothead or the obsessed scientist he'd studied. This was a whole new animal, a mind more dangerous as it was robbed from clarity.
"Apparently they do," Morris then said, placing his cup in Lucas' hand, and walking right past him.
Lucas was left to swallow his bitter defeat. He'd failed this test utterly and completely. But the worst part was that he still didn't know what he wanted while this man had him pegged all too well.
"Are we clear?" Mira asked, snapping Skye right out of her thoughts. She'd drifted off for awhile, stuck in that horrible moment where she'd been sure this Morris would shoot her and leave her in the woods to bleed out.
"Yeah," Skye assured, sounding shaken still. Mira studied her, eyebrows knitting together with uneasiness.
"It's better you keep your distance from Lucas for now. I may not particularly like you, but I'd rather keep you alive," she said, her hand moving to Skye's shoulder. The action felt alien to her, and yet she tried to calm down this distressed girl, knowing things would only escalate from here on.
Skye nodded weakly. Of course she understood. She'd just wished Lucas would've mentioned about this a little earlier. It was tough learning that he was knee-deep in trouble because of her when she'd just been asking him to go against everything yesterday. If she'd known, she would've at least had the courtesy to… Skye inhaled again, swallowing heavily, trying to shake her body from this numbness. She was a liability to them all and still Lucas, Carter, Curran and even Mira were working to keep her safe. She hadn't really understood any of that until now.
"You can sleep in my hut for now to avoid suspicion," Mira offered, clearly taking no joy in it.
Skye wanted to refuse, but then she saw those brown eyes in her mind again, looking at her like she was something insignificant. "Yeah," she agreed, "It's probably for the best."
"Stay out of his way, Skye, I mean it," Mira warned next, her voice high-strung.
For once, Skye had no objections to Mira. "I will," she promised quietly, holding back the anxiety she was feeling.
Noticing movement at the entrance of her hunt, Mira became focused again, excusing herself from Skye's company and heading towards their guest. Skye stayed up at the platform, hoping she wouldn't stand out to this man's perceptive eyes. Right now she just wanted to be invisible.
Yet Morris drew her gaze upon him, and she watched his surprisingly relaxed interaction with Mira from afar. In a sense Skye was reminded of how she behaved with Curran; being friendly to gain Intel. And just as she thought about Curran, he appeared by her side, war paint cleaned and woe written all over his face.
"Curran," she said when she noticed him. "I thought Mira told you to stay?"
Curran looked a bit pale; he was clutching the leash of his weapon tightly. "I said I wasn't feeling well," he explained, turning towards Morris and Mira next. "Who is that guy?" he then whispered as discreetly as possible.
Skye felt bad disclosing information to him, but at the same time she felt the need to tell someone, anyone. "I think he was sent from 2149," she answered, chills running down her spine.
"Did you see the way Mira looked when she arrived?" Curran said, that unnerving feeling teasing him still.
"Like trouble," Skye concluded with a sigh, sharing his unease.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Curran then sighed, rubbing his chin self-consciously. He turned his back on Morris and Mira, hoping to keep that man from his thoughts. Skye continued to look though; almost compelled to keep watching.
"He knew who I was, Curran," she said weakly. "And he looked surprised. Like he expected I was rotting in a ditch somewhere." Her voice betrayed weakness, her fear.
Curran responded to that immediately, getting her to look at him. "Not going to happen Skye," he told her sternly.
She actually cracked a desperate smile at that, feeling silly for having to point it out for him. "If he's getting rid of me, you'd be next in line, so there's not much you could do."
"Doesn't mean I wouldn't try my damnest," he vowed, sounding somewhat noble for a change.
"Thanks," she said, feeling alarm over his protectiveness. "But Lucas will keep me safe. I trust him," she told him next, hoping he wouldn't be pressured into doing something stupid for her. There really was no need for that, not as long as Lucas was breathing.
Curran felt a stab of jealousy though, reminded of her special relationship with the Sixer leader. "Because you're his sister, right?" he asked, not even realizing fully that he was testing her.
"Yeah," she responded, "He's all the family I have left."
But on the inside lying felt as bad as ever. Her lips wanted to tell him the truth, stop talking around the tough issues. She might've eased into this friendship and pretty much stopped pretending in the past week, but she knew this wasn't based on anything real. It was a web of lies she'd spun carefully. Omitting the details of her relationship with Lucas had a conscious choice, one that was constantly hurting her.
Curran looked down at her, believing her words. "Well he's not around that much, Skye. I'm here if you need me," he then said before he set off.
Skye remained at the platform, eyes cast on Mira and their special guest. She fidgeted her necklace, wondering just how long they would have to keep up this pretend. Something told her it wouldn't be over anytime soon.
TBC
Fandom: Terra Nova
Ship: Skye/Lucas
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: bad language, sexual situations, AU
Chapter: 17/?
Summary: AU story. Skye meets a strange man at Snakehead Falls and ends up falling in love. But can happiness built on anonymity last, when the world around them is on fire?
Author's Note: Plot tries to move along for once ;)
Things Lost in the Fire
17. A Dangerous Mind
Skye found herself drifting through the woods, clutching the handle of her knife, drawn into keeping Curran's company once again. She motioned him to follow in her steps while she moved gracefully in the underbrush. He was clumsier but his steps were steadier; he was a soldier after all, not a hunter.
He didn't mind for he'd missed her in her absence, been reminded of just how lonely it was here when she didn't talk nonsense with him, laugh with him. He was here now because she was; He had volunteered for the hunt because she had. Even with the bandages gone from her wrists and the makeshift war paint that fled her flushed cheeks, she didn't look any less fragile. He needed to be here to make sure she was alright; if nothing else he could do that for Taylor.
There were others, but their ranks were spread thin. They searched for prey, signaled in the others and attacked in numbers, forcing their prey down with one swell swoop. According to Mira the hunter parties were gathered at camp, depending on the situation and whoever was available. Mira liked to participate whenever she was around, and Skye heard she'd dragged Lucas with them too once, and that was how he'd gotten the nasty bruise on his head.
This felt like a breath of freedom, knowing there was no one on her tail. Of course if she ran now they'd catch her in no time, yet Skye considered this another step forward on the long and winding road towards camaraderie.
Curran grabbed her hand suddenly, yanking her beside a tree, right next to his side. He pressed himself as flat as possible, his dirty clothing acting as camouflage for curious eyes. Skye hadn't seen what he'd seen, but she held in a breath with tension all the same, believing it was for the best.
"Someone's coming," he told her, voice tainted by uncertainty. She could tell he hadn't gotten a good look at the approaching figure.
"Probably just the watchers changing shifts," Skye suggested, sounding slightly out of breath.
"No," Curran responded, giving Skye another look. His eyes stayed with her cheeks, at the stripes drawn with red chalk that were meant to make her more menacing. Coupled together with the necklace, the leather strings twined around her upper arms and leather shirt she wore, she was starting to look more and more tribal.
"They wouldn't wander alone," he then explained, quenching the desire to brush away the dripping paint from her cheeks. He hoped the attack of this swelter would end already as the heat was becoming unbearable.
Skye stared at his perspiring skin, at the black lines running across his face. They were aggressive, stretching diagonally from his forehead and all across his face to his jaw. She was about to question him about the sense in this when he hissed at her quietly, "Stay here, I'll have a look."
And with that Curran vanished from sight. Skye didn't stop him. She stood by the tree faithfully. Within a few minutes she stopped trying to hold held breath, to keep still, and allowed herself to calm down and move a bit for better view. She picked her steps carefully, sliding closer to where Curran had stood before peeking. She didn't see anything out there.
She turned with a start though, hearing something behind her, and was suddenly face to face with a stranger, her knife pressed against his gut. The man that stood in front of her also had his weapon out in the open, pointed at her chest discreetly. It was loaded and ready to use. Skye shifted her eyes into the stranger's face, searching for an opening.
He was taller than she was, but just by a little. He had dark olive skin, brown eyes set in a round face, neatly cut hair and a dark chin strip beard. He was fit, had muscle and tattoos that stretched across his left arm, the one holding the gun. His breathing was barely noticeable, as if this man was capable of controlling every aspect of his physique. Skye realized quickly she'd be dead before she had the chance to shank him, and the revelation spread sweet paralysis into her body.
"I don't know you," she whispered, fear sinking in. Panic was signaling her body to act, but none of it was getting through.
He took in her words with delight, a bright expression making way for his words. "But I believe I know you."
"I will kill you if you don't back the hell up," Curran's voice warned behind the stranger, relief giving Skye room to breathe again. She spotted Curran's tall figure again a moment later, immediately feeling safer with him around.
The stranger gave her a toothy grin though, backing up a few steps and settling his gun back in its holster. He wore combat boots, a pair of cargo pants, a sleeveless shirt and second shirt on top of it that was open from the front. While he moved, Curran also circled back to Skye with his gun pointed at the man who'd threatened her. He didn't know what the hell was going on, but he'd suffer the consequences gladly if he'd have to shoot him to keep her safe.
"Holler the others," Curran said his focus completely on their prisoner. He held his gun with both hands now; keeping his aim to the head, at those strangely calm brown eyes.
Skye did as asked and made the signal, whistling loudly. The whistle resounded in the air, sounding more like an animal than a human. Around them the underbrush began to rustle with the rest of their hunting party gathering at this scene. Skye wanted to look away from this man, yet found his curious stare on her, like he knew a hurtful secret he wanted to expel from his lungs.
Mira was with the others, hair on bundles of braids, yellow war paint on her face. She appeared as proud and fierce as ever as she walked up next to Skye.
The stranger took notice of Mira's approach, and he smiled brightly then and there, a genuine grin creeping to his face. "Mira, this is a pleasure," he said, looking past Skye at the Sixer leader whose entire being became stiff.
"Do you know him?" Skye asked with bewilderment and worry.
"Not yet," Mira responded coldly. Her sour expression revealed just how much she'd been dreading this moment.
"You must be the one Sebastian sent," she then addressed their stranger whilst walking closer and pressing her hand over Curran's gun firmly, lowering its barrel until it was no longer pointed at the stranger. She could tell she'd guessed right even when the stranger didn't respond. "Do you have a name?"
Now the man faced her proud eyes, seeing something he liked. Skye and Curran hadn't been able to challenge him - they'd seen right away that he was dangerous and had feared to get involved - but Mira was right there, questioning his very existence.
"You can call me Morris," he told her, stepping forward and extending his hand. Mira took it without a doubt, shaking it with a firm squeeze. She then turned to the others to address them.
"Everyone keep hunting. Skye, Shiva, Chase, you're with me. We're returning to camp," she said, casting her eyes to Curran next to silence his opposition. Her cold glare left him speechless quickly as the message got through loud and clear. Mira wanted him and Skye separated right now before anything else happened.
Skye pressed her head, threw Curran a discreet glance and mouthed the words 'thank you' to him, feeling genuine gratitude for stepping in before things had gotten ugly. Curran moved away though, refusing to linger now that the order had been given. He knew Skye was somewhat safe as long as Mira was there keeping an eye on her.
The other two whose names Mira had called stepped closer to them. Mira was eyeing their stranger who met her gaze. They evaluated one another silently, a kind of respect forming between them. Skye felt like she didn't even exist at that time, but she was glad for Mira's intervention. This man made her very nervous.
"Alright, Morris, let me show you to the camp," Mira said politely, taking on the role of a generous host. She was greeted by a grateful guest.
"I'd be delighted, Mira," Morris responded and walked right by Skye to walk on Mira's side. Skye stayed behind, walking last in line as the hike towards the camp began. She glanced back at the direction Curran had walked to, a frown forming on her face before she continued with the rest.
"What's the status?" Nathaniel Taylor asked, seated behind his desk, enjoying the shadow after a long day of heat.
"We didn't find anything," Alicia Washington concluded. She was leaning at the wall, fingers twirled around the loops of her trousers.
"Well that's not entirely true," Jim quipped in, a smirk playing on his lips. As usual there was a spark of humor in his voice. "We did learn Boylan conspired with the Sixers to drown us in alcohol," he winked. Jim Shannon stood between the two, walking about in Taylor's office, eyes shifting from Washington to Taylor in turns.
Taylor didn't appreciate his tone, yet he didn't have the stomach to make an issue of out it. He exchanged glances with Washington, saw her shrug with annoyance as well, and left it at that. "How many bottles did you confiscate from pilgrims?" He asked next, sounding largely uninterested.
"Sixteen?" Jim suggested, glancing at Washington who rolled her eyes again. She hadn't bothered to count, because unlike the marshal beside her, she'd been looking for spies not smugglers. Alicia had seen it wise to prioritize her time, while Jim had played a fool with the confiscated licker, his smile brightening whenever he found a new bottle.
"He arranged it before we caught him, I don't think he's doing business with them anymore," Washington said, feeling strangely positive about this.
Jim made a face at her nonchalant approach and disinterest. "You can't know that," he noted, turning his attention at Taylor again, clearly hoping he'd be given the authorization to raid Boylan's operation again.
"By that logic we'd have to assume Josh was still working for them too, because his girlfriend came through," Washington countered, feeling catty. Really she was just taking out the frustration of not finding anything. Lucas had given them a hint, something she'd actually believed for a change, and they hadn't been able to do anything about it.
"My son is not working with the Sixers," Jim mumbled, sounding a tad insulted. He didn't latch onto the words though, for he could tell Washington had a point.
"I'll let it slide for now. Give the man his licker," Taylor announced, eager to finish this conversation. Sure Boylan was a scumbag who profited from the misery of others, but Taylor knew people needed their little vices or they would lose it. A little drinking and gambling every now and then wasn't the problem, resorting to the help of the Sixers was. He honestly believed Boylan wouldn't try it again though.
"I suppose we should be grateful everyone got here safe," Washington tried to chip in and change the subject, speaking more to herself than anyone in particular.
"Except that one guy that fainted from the heat and exhaustion," Jim smiled, his smile vanishing quickly when both Taylor and Washington suddenly stared at him questioningly.
"What guy?" Washington asked sharply, tired of his antics.
Jim frowned, unable to grasp what Washington was so irritated about. "You know, the guy that fainted at the gate and is resting at the infirmary," he explained like it was common knowledge.
Washington reacted with alert though, pushing herself away from the wall and back to her own two feet. Her expression was dire. "There's no one at the infirmary, Jim. All pilgrims got through safe and sound. I checked the records," she claimed.
A heavy silence followed her comments though with all three of them thinking in unison.
"What did he look like?" Washington turned to Jim, ready to extract every bit of information from him.
"He was lean, looked like he'd worked on some construction site: Hispanic, dark hair, a beard. He was dressed like a worker, and he looked the part all the way," Jim responded with a frown, worry sounding in his voice.
He was beginning to grasp it, the unspoken truth. He'd meant to ask Elizabeth about it, but she'd been caught at work and between Zoe, Maddy and having to keep an eye on Josh and Kara he hadn't given any of this a second though. Also he knew someone should've noticed if there was anything off about this guy by now, because they'd been doing everything in their power to snuff out potential infiltrators. They had checked the personal belongings of all new pilgrims and made sure everyone's data matched with their official records. Heck they'd even checked the retinal scans.
And Taylor had his answer then and there. He took an assuring breath, standing up as well, hands over the desk.
"He never arrived to the infirmary, because he wasn't coming to us," he explained with certainty, clearing all doubts in the room. And as much as Taylor hated being right, he just knew it. Lucas had been right to fear a man who'd fooled them all with such ease. Taylor felt a small tinge of respect forming inside him for this infiltrator.
Jim cursed. Washington punched the door frame. And Taylor wondered what had been so bad that Lucas had come to him to prevent this man from reaching the Sixers.
Lucas motioned his guest to sit on Mira's field bed, finding a stool for himself. He would've accommodated them at his hut, but he didn't want this man anywhere near Skye, not after seeing how she'd returned from the hunting trip looking so visibly shaken. His intuition had traced the source of her trepidation to the man in front of him.
Mira had emerged from the woods early, followed by the operative they had failed to get rid of. Mira had then introduced them, suggesting they exchange a few words in privacy, offering her hut as a place of converse herself. Lucas had accepted willingly, watched discreetly as Mira had guided Skye away from them, keeping her silent, undoubtedly whispering new guidelines to her. Lucas made a mental note to himself to thank Mira for her efforts.
His gaze fell on the operative again. He was sitting down as instructed, appearing casual and comfortable in these new surroundings. He was nothing like Lucas had imagined, yet Lucas didn't allow first impressions to cloud his judgment. This man had succeeded in getting past the security at Terra Nova and then just hiked to them like it required no effort. He knew better than to lull himself into a false feeling of security.
"I'd offer you a drink," Lucas said courteously, hands spread on his sides, "but as you can see, we don't live that luxuriously."
The operative, Morris as he'd introduced himself, just smiled back and reached for the back pack he'd dragged along with him. "No worry, I brought some with me," he assured, pulling out a bottle of whiskey.
Lucas' eyes spread in shock at seeing such expensive commodities here in the wilderness. He was more surprised that this man had gotten such an item past the security though. But he didn't hesitate when Morris handed the bottle to him; Lucas found them cups and poured them both shots of the expensive drink.
They toasted without the usual verbiage, exchanging knowing looks. Lucas drank only some of his slowly, whilst Morris emptied it with one quick gulp.
"I needed that," Lucas remarked, putting his mug away, the taste of whiskey branding his lips.
"I believe you," Morris responded, eyes surveying Mira's private sanctuary curiously. His sharp eyes noticed a lot of details concerning this woman he'd met earlier. He memorized everything he could, knowing he'd find the right moment to have a similar talk with her in private. He suspected he'd enjoy that one more than this though.
"I hear things have been rough lately," Morris commented, gulping as the whiskey still burned his throat. He coughed a bit after that.
"What do you want?" Lucas cut to the chase, eager to be rid of the pleasantries. Mira had kept up her good cop cover they had agreed upon, but he didn't need to. He could be just as ruthlessly honest as he wanted to, and the truth was he didn't want this man here.
Morris raised a brow, showing no other visible reaction to the direct question. "I don't want anything," he claimed seconds later.
"Bullshit," Lucas responded.
"Fine," Morris admitted, leaning his back against the supporting pole behind him. "I want us to be friends, Taylor," he then said, making no big deal out of it.
Still it was the last thing Lucas had expected. In his mind's eye he'd seen this man come here, start giving orders and making their lives difficult and then reporting back to Sebastian. Worst case scenario had always been deeming them incapable of handling things, and then getting rid of them.
"I don't want any friends. I have all the friends I need right now," Lucas responded coldly, ignoring the offer that he'd deemed a mere ploy.
The heat was getting overbearing; they were both covered in sweat and its heavy stench. Sweat had gathered onto their clothes, it made the fabrics latch onto their skin. Mira's hut had a fresh scent though, something unique and irritating that wouldn't leave Lucas alone. Morris didn't seem that bothered by it, even as Lucas pulled his collar loose with his fingers, struggling to withstand that dryness in his throat. He just watched Lucas calmly, his previous playfulness vanishing.
"You're not the kind of man to make friends, Taylor," he then noted, sounding more formal already. "I recall that the last friend you had applied for a transfer to a different unit to get rid of you and your obsessive behavior. David Summers, was it?"
Morris struck Lucas with his insight, this intimate reveal that he hadn't shared with anyone in this timeline. But Lucas recalled the incident all too well; how he had pulled some strings to get his former flat mate a prestigious position, and then getting abandoned as David realized how absorbed Lucas had become with his project - the fracture and everything surrounding it. David had claimed it was impossible to work with Lucas.
"How would you know about that?" Lucas wondered aloud, frowning. He was not pleased one bit that this interloper seemed to know such things about him. It had to mean Morris had studied him and possibly other key players closely before coming through, and that spelled trouble.
Morris leaned a bit closer now, a victorious expression on his face. "Of course I know," he stated arrogantly, slumping one arm over his thighs whilst rubbing his beard with the other. "I've studied you, just like they did before recruiting you," he revealed nonchalantly, making no big deal out of it.
Lucas absorbed this information, a confirmation to the conclusion he'd reached himself too. "Should I be flattered?" he asked cynically, trying to reign in the anger of having his background probed and checked.
Morris made a face at Lucas' comment, signing it off with a lazy hand wave. "You don't come off as a very nice person on paper," he said, trying to recall details the best he could. He swallowed and raised a finger then, listing a few things he'd found interesting.
"There were a few assault charges - all dropped of course," he said. There was a lingering pout on his face, a sign of disapproval that annoyed Lucas more than the truths this man was laying out.
"And then one colleague called you a budding psychopath, and somehow I don't think that's because you claimed she'd stolen some of your research. She might've been more put off by the very visceral threats you sent her way."
Again it was true, but Samantha Ferris had indeed tried to get into Lucas' good graces and then proceeded to steal his research. Lucas had dealt with it, and Samantha had made a quick exit from his life.
"A former girlfriend describes you as an uncaring asshole for the two months you were seeing one another," Morris mentioned, clearly trying to bait him. Lucas didn't fall for that either; he remained stoic and unmoved. Maya Killmore had been as shallow as they came, but she'd been a pleasant distraction for awhile. Of course once she'd started getting ideas about them, he'd given her a piece of his mind.
"Not to mention your therapist who recorded rage issues, had a strong suspicion of PTSD and some kind of twisted oedipal complex," Morris concluded, running out of fingers to lift up. He was looking right at Lucas now, expecting a reaction to these insights.
Lucas responded by shrugging. "I make a fascinating read apparently," he quipped and took another sip of his drink. For a moment there, he actually believed he was untouchable, that the dark place inside him was well hidden and Morris had nothing on him.
Morris didn't hesitate to play another card though. He frowned gingerly and remarked, "Why is Skye Tate still here?"
That caught Lucas' attention and drew out a genuine reaction. Suddenly Lucas was all ears.
Morris noticed he'd gotten through and continued, "She's outlived her usefulness, don't you think?" His brown eyes were full of confidence. He enjoyed twisting the knife, pointing out weaknesses, breaking others.
"That's for me to decide," Lucas noted, eyes narrowing as he was beginning to get the hang of this game. They had doubts, obviously. And the operative was here to uncover the truth and then deal with it. The only question that remained was how far would this man go?
He noticed too late how Morris' gaze was fixated on his hand still grasping the mug a bit too tight. His tenseness was visible; the shadow of doubt had crept to his face.
"So you're sleeping with her," Morris concluded with amusement. "She seems awfully young," he threw in a moment later, as if recalling Skye's face.
Lucas wanted to kick himself for not doing a better job at hiding her, for thinking his father could've actually prevent the arrival of this man. "She's old enough," he responded grimly, unwilling to go there. Also it was useless to try and hide it if Morris was already assuming and not insinuating.
A cruel grin spread on the operative's face. "Aren't they always?"
It was enough to get Lucas to bolt to his feet, thunder back at his unexpected guest, "You flaunt the records that prove my short temper and then proceed to irk me."His lips pressed into a thin line, every trace of friendliness replaced by hostility. "Not a smart plan," Lucas noted.
Morris stood up as well, a bit shorter than Lucas, but clearly capable of handling himself. He didn't perceive Lucas as a threat, as much as clear in the way he stared right back at him, void of fear.
"I only have facts, history. You've been off the grid for five years. Things change," Morris explained with the sense of success all over him. Lucas could see his muscles were flexed and his jaw line all tense.
"Not that much," Lucas claimed, hoping he could erase the doubt. He needed to convince this man nothing had changed; that he would still gladly serve the Company as per their agreement and deliver the calculations to them, even with the doubts Skye had planted in his mind.
But Morris could see his bluff. He could see this man wasn't the angry academic, the short-tempered hothead or the obsessed scientist he'd studied. This was a whole new animal, a mind more dangerous as it was robbed from clarity.
"Apparently they do," Morris then said, placing his cup in Lucas' hand, and walking right past him.
Lucas was left to swallow his bitter defeat. He'd failed this test utterly and completely. But the worst part was that he still didn't know what he wanted while this man had him pegged all too well.
"Are we clear?" Mira asked, snapping Skye right out of her thoughts. She'd drifted off for awhile, stuck in that horrible moment where she'd been sure this Morris would shoot her and leave her in the woods to bleed out.
"Yeah," Skye assured, sounding shaken still. Mira studied her, eyebrows knitting together with uneasiness.
"It's better you keep your distance from Lucas for now. I may not particularly like you, but I'd rather keep you alive," she said, her hand moving to Skye's shoulder. The action felt alien to her, and yet she tried to calm down this distressed girl, knowing things would only escalate from here on.
Skye nodded weakly. Of course she understood. She'd just wished Lucas would've mentioned about this a little earlier. It was tough learning that he was knee-deep in trouble because of her when she'd just been asking him to go against everything yesterday. If she'd known, she would've at least had the courtesy to… Skye inhaled again, swallowing heavily, trying to shake her body from this numbness. She was a liability to them all and still Lucas, Carter, Curran and even Mira were working to keep her safe. She hadn't really understood any of that until now.
"You can sleep in my hut for now to avoid suspicion," Mira offered, clearly taking no joy in it.
Skye wanted to refuse, but then she saw those brown eyes in her mind again, looking at her like she was something insignificant. "Yeah," she agreed, "It's probably for the best."
"Stay out of his way, Skye, I mean it," Mira warned next, her voice high-strung.
For once, Skye had no objections to Mira. "I will," she promised quietly, holding back the anxiety she was feeling.
Noticing movement at the entrance of her hunt, Mira became focused again, excusing herself from Skye's company and heading towards their guest. Skye stayed up at the platform, hoping she wouldn't stand out to this man's perceptive eyes. Right now she just wanted to be invisible.
Yet Morris drew her gaze upon him, and she watched his surprisingly relaxed interaction with Mira from afar. In a sense Skye was reminded of how she behaved with Curran; being friendly to gain Intel. And just as she thought about Curran, he appeared by her side, war paint cleaned and woe written all over his face.
"Curran," she said when she noticed him. "I thought Mira told you to stay?"
Curran looked a bit pale; he was clutching the leash of his weapon tightly. "I said I wasn't feeling well," he explained, turning towards Morris and Mira next. "Who is that guy?" he then whispered as discreetly as possible.
Skye felt bad disclosing information to him, but at the same time she felt the need to tell someone, anyone. "I think he was sent from 2149," she answered, chills running down her spine.
"Did you see the way Mira looked when she arrived?" Curran said, that unnerving feeling teasing him still.
"Like trouble," Skye concluded with a sigh, sharing his unease.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Curran then sighed, rubbing his chin self-consciously. He turned his back on Morris and Mira, hoping to keep that man from his thoughts. Skye continued to look though; almost compelled to keep watching.
"He knew who I was, Curran," she said weakly. "And he looked surprised. Like he expected I was rotting in a ditch somewhere." Her voice betrayed weakness, her fear.
Curran responded to that immediately, getting her to look at him. "Not going to happen Skye," he told her sternly.
She actually cracked a desperate smile at that, feeling silly for having to point it out for him. "If he's getting rid of me, you'd be next in line, so there's not much you could do."
"Doesn't mean I wouldn't try my damnest," he vowed, sounding somewhat noble for a change.
"Thanks," she said, feeling alarm over his protectiveness. "But Lucas will keep me safe. I trust him," she told him next, hoping he wouldn't be pressured into doing something stupid for her. There really was no need for that, not as long as Lucas was breathing.
Curran felt a stab of jealousy though, reminded of her special relationship with the Sixer leader. "Because you're his sister, right?" he asked, not even realizing fully that he was testing her.
"Yeah," she responded, "He's all the family I have left."
But on the inside lying felt as bad as ever. Her lips wanted to tell him the truth, stop talking around the tough issues. She might've eased into this friendship and pretty much stopped pretending in the past week, but she knew this wasn't based on anything real. It was a web of lies she'd spun carefully. Omitting the details of her relationship with Lucas had a conscious choice, one that was constantly hurting her.
Curran looked down at her, believing her words. "Well he's not around that much, Skye. I'm here if you need me," he then said before he set off.
Skye remained at the platform, eyes cast on Mira and their special guest. She fidgeted her necklace, wondering just how long they would have to keep up this pretend. Something told her it wouldn't be over anytime soon.
TBC