Dark Angel: A Pound of Flesh (1/5)

[brihana25]

All disclaimers, notes, warnings and summary are in the Master post: A Pound of Flesh



Chapter One

It had been easier than he'd expected to deal with the Steelhead issue, because it had been one of those rare times when ignoring something really did seem to make it go away. He'd just stayed out of Sector Four for the week, which made running into them on accident much less likely, and none of them had come back to Crash since Lux had left Friday night. He'd stopped selling the Andy, but that just made good business sense, like he'd told Max. He'd definitely stopped because Andy killed people, not because he was afraid of stepping on anyone's toes. So he'd stayed out of their way, they'd stayed out of his, and everything had been going just fine.

Until Max had found out that they had Zack with them.

Alec sighed as he slowly made his way over to the bathroom door. He was already moving a lot better than he had been when he'd called in to work that morning, so he knew the injuries he'd received during the rescue were healing. He'd made it back to the long-abandoned and condemned hotel he was currently calling home the night before, and he'd done it with no help from anyone. Of course, he'd fallen right into bed and passed out, and had only woken up long enough to call Normal, but that didn't mean anything. He was still limping a bit from slamming his knees into the pavement from four feet up, but he was fine.

He was less than thrilled at having been forced to put himself back on the Steelheads' radar after he'd just managed to get himself off of it, but he couldn't really blame Max for wanting to save Zack. And he couldn't blame Zack for needing to be saved. After everything that Manticore had done to the guy, it just wasn't fair for him to be turned into some sort of mindless toy soldier for a bunch of petty criminals on the outside.

He reached the bathroom sink and turned the tap on, for once thankful that there was only cold water in the pipes. He leaned his elbows against the front of the vanity and let the water run across his wrists and down his hands, restoring his alertness somewhat as he washed away the last of the dirt from the alley he'd been dropped to face-first.

Alec had been right when he told Max that the next time the Steelheads came after him, they'd be packing. And maybe he was just being touchy, but when they'd run into those two in the alley - and the short one really had gotten that new arm he'd been talking about - they'd been aiming their guns at him, not at Max. So maybe they had saved Zack, and that was great, but Alec would have to start watching his back again. And since he'd never gotten around to telling Max about them the first time, and because she was going to be busy taking care of big brother Zack for the immediate future, he'd have no one to back him up if anything went wrong.

Not that he'd been counting on Max for back-up or anything, because he hadn't. He didn't need her help. He'd always managed just fine on his own, and he didn't see any reason why he wouldn't be able to handle this the same way.

He cupped his hands under the faucet, letting them fill before splashing the cold water on his face. He felt the sweat and grime washing away, taking at least some of his tension with it. After a few handfuls of water, he tossed his head back and looked at himself closely in the mirror.

The bruises on his neck, the perfect imprints of Zack's fingertips, still showed green and yellow against the pale skin of his throat. Even so, they were lighter than they had been before. His throat was still sore, but the swelling had gone down enough that he could finally swallow again. His body was healing itself, the damaged blood vessels repairing themselves with their usual speed. They would fade completely in the next hour or so, and all visible evidence of his near-strangulation would disappear.

The memories of the day before, though, feeling the cold metal of the exoskeleton on Zack's hand squeezing his throat and cutting off his oxygen supply, would linger long after the bruises were gone. The minutes that had passed with his feet dangling in the air, all of his weight suspended from his neck, feeling himself starting to lose his grasp on consciousness... and Max, standing there so calmly, more upset that Zack didn't recognize her than that he was killing Alec. Max dismissing him as unimportant, painting him with the same brush as she did the Steelheads, casually mentioning that he wasn't "in their unit."

Those would stay with him.

He didn't understand why it bothered him so much. In fact, he was fairly certain that it shouldn't bother him at all, but it did. Units were ridiculous things, bad for morale, and made their members too dependent on each other. He hadn't been a member of a unit since he was nine years old, and he couldn't remember a single day that he'd missed the others. He certainly hadn't ever considered them family of any kind, let alone siblings, like Max did.

There were certain lessons that Manticore had taught him that he had learned well.

He was a single soldier and not part of a larger whole. He had no greater purpose; without Manticore to give it to him, he had no purpose at all. He didn't matter to anyone outside of his immediate usefulness to them. He was not irreplaceable. If he failed in his mission, there were a dozen other soldiers waiting for their chance to perform. He had no feelings, and even if he did, they wouldn't matter. He had one job and one job only: do as he was told.

That was the way he'd been raised, and that was the way he wanted it. He'd lost his purpose when Manticore burned to the ground, and he hadn't managed to find a new one yet, but a solitary life was still the one he preferred. The less people in his life the better.

But sometimes, a solitary life just wasn't possible. The life of a normal human seemed to require being surrounded by other people, and if there was one thing Alec knew how to do, it was fit in with his environment. For better or for worse, he had managed to build himself a circle of companions. He didn't know quite enough about them to consider them friends, but they were the people in his life, and when it came to playing normal, they were better than nothing.

So he would finish cleaning himself up and head to Crash, because it's what he did every night. He'd be there for the "Welcome Home" party for Zack that Sketchy had called and told him about. He'd go take part in the celebration of a victory that he'd played a large part in securing but doubted he'd ever be thanked for. Through it all, he'd smile and laugh and play it off like nothing of any importance had happened to him for the past few days.

If only those damn bruises would fade faster, so it would be easier to convince himself that it was true.

He'd noticed the way Zack looked at her the second he'd walked through the door.

He was willing to admit that he just might be a bit wary of the guy because he'd tried to kill him with his bare hands the day before, but Alec was convinced there was something wrong. Max had told him that all of Zack's memories had returned, but he hadn't reacted to Alec's presence - or his face - at all. He hadn't called him Ben. He hadn't actually called him anything, because he hadn't said a single word to him all night.

But Alec had been watching. He'd seen the looks Zack kept shooting over his shoulder at Max while he was playing foosball with Sketchy. He'd seen the way Zack looked up every time he heard Max's voice. He'd seen the way Zack smiled at her when he thought she wasn't looking. And while he'd seen Max looking at Zack with nothing but sisterly affection, the looks that Zack were giving her were far from brotherly.

He'd thought it would be a good idea to let her know what he was seeing, because it looked to him like she didn't know. He'd thought she would appreciate input from an outsider's perspective. He'd thought she'd thank him.

He'd been wrong about that.

Okay, maybe his delivery hadn't been the greatest, but she'd pushed him into saying it faster than he'd planned. He'd wanted to ease into it, and she'd wanted him to spit it out. So he had. And it hadn't been the least bit graceful.

So she'd told him to stay out of it and called him sick.

"Ya know what, Max? Never mind. I just thought I should give you a heads up."

"Yeah, well next time you think you need to warn me about something, do me a favor and don't." The almost playful tone of voice she'd been using through the whole conversation was still there, but it was starting to get a harder edge to it.

Alec grabbed her arm as she turned away, and she spun back to him with disgust in her eyes. She wanted him away from her. She wanted him gone. That much was obvious. He could give her that, at least for a few minutes. He held his hands up in submission and lowered his head.

"I'll get the beer, okay? You don't want big brother thinking you've wandered off or anything."

She shoved the pitcher into his hands. "Fine," she said as she turned away She shot him a frosty look across her shoulder as she walked toward the back room again. "Try not to get lost."

He shook his head as he watched her walk away, wondering how long he should wait before he tried that conversation again. Something was off about Zack; he wasn't wrong about that. The way he looked at Max, the things he said to her and about her - how did she not notice how not fraternal those were? No, big brother was far from okay, and Alec knew that it was going to cause a problem. He'd just have to make sure he stuck close enough to Max to be there when things went bad, whether she wanted his help or not.

He was still shaking his head slightly as he walked toward the bar. He hadn't expected her to be thrilled with what he had to say, of course, but for some reason he hadn't expected her to be so nasty about it. He put the pitcher down on the bar and raised his hand to get the bartender's attention.

"Can I get a refill?"

Someone bumped into him from the left, hard, and he turned his head. The dark-skinned Steelhead was standing there, looking down at him and smiling. Before Alec could do or say anything, he felt a sharp pain in his lower back.

"Ow!" His hand went to his back automatically, searching out the source of the sudden sting.

"Sorry," he heard a voice say.

He spun around quickly. Standing behind him at the bar, smiling like a cat who'd just eaten a dozen canaries, was the short Steelhead with the new metal arm.

He realized then just how much trouble he was in. The pain in his back had vanished almost as quickly as it had struck, and waves of numbness were starting to spread out from the original location. Had he honestly been so distracted by Max and Zack's issues that he'd let these Steelheads get close enough to dose him with something? He managed to take one step back on legs that were rapidly losing feeling, but he bumped into the Steelhead behind him, and dark hands gripped his upper arms tightly just as his knees started to buckle.

"Careful there," the Steelhead said. "Don't wanna fall down."

He wanted to push away from them, but his body wouldn't respond. He wanted to beat them down like he'd done at the market, but his arms wouldn't move. He wanted to look to the back room and see if Max had noticed anything, but the only part of him that would move was his eyes. He wanted to yell for help, but his tongue wouldn't work.

Alec felt his arms lifted and draped across the shoulders of the Steelheads, but he knew he hadn't put them there, because he couldn't move them by himself. As they dragged him away from the bar and toward the stairs, with his feet trailing on the floor behind him and the Steelheads giving bullshit explanations to the people they passed, he finally got a glimpse of Max and the others. They were all gathered around the table in the back room, all of their focus on Zack, whose focus was undoubtedly solely on Max. They were too busy to pay any attention to what was going on at the bar. They were laughing, joking, celebrating.

And then he was being dragged up the stairs, his feet banging from step to step - and he wondered if they heard that or not - and he couldn't see them anymore.

The drug finally reached his neck, leaving it unable to support the weight of his head, which fell forward until his chin banged against his chest. As they exited the muggy warmth of the bar and emerged into the chill of the early fall evening, his eyelids fluttered closed and the darkness pulled him under.

Max glanced around the bar as she wondered again where Alec was. He'd been gone a lot longer than he should have been just to get a pitcher of beer. As the minutes ticked by, with neither beer nor Alec showing up, she got irritated. As those minutes grew longer, and O.C. mentioned Alec's absence, too, that irritation gave way to anger. When he'd been gone so long that even Sketchy had noticed, the anger started turning to concern.

"Be right back."

She stood from the table and walked quickly toward the front of the bar. She looked from side to side as she went, checking every corner and every table for Alec's familiar features, but he didn't seem to be anywhere. By the time she reached the bar, her concern was mounting into full-blown worry.

"Hey!" she called to the bartender, who ignored her. She was not in the mood to be messed with, so she took a deep breath and tried again. "I said hey!"

She wasn't entirely surprised when he ignored her again, but she was done wasting her breath on this guy. When he walked past in front of her, her hand shot out, grabbed his collar, and yanked him forward until his face was only inches from hers.

"I'm looking for somebody!"

"Who?" he asked without hesitation.

She'd have smiled at his sudden willingness to help if she hadn't been so worried about Alec. And yes, she was willing to admit to herself that she was worried about him. If he wasn't in real trouble, he'd have hell to pay for making her care.

"Name's Alec. Tall guy, kinda good looking, dark blond hair, green eyes..."

"Black t-shirt and jeans?"

Max nodded quickly. So he'd made it as far as the bar, then. Whatever had happened to him had happened after that. That was information that might come in handy.

"He left," the bartender went on. "Half an hour ago or so."

Max started in surprise. "Wait," she said. Her confusion was evident in her voice. "He left? Just... left?"

The bartender nodded. "Yeah, with a couple of friends."

"Friends?" She knew she was just repeating what the bartender was saying to her, but it didn't make any sense. Alec didn't have any friends; the only people who even remotely qualified to be called that were all sitting in the back room wondering where the hell he was.

The bartender shrugged and straightened up as Max released her hold on his collar. "Well, he left here falling down drunk with his arms around them, so yeah, I'm guessing they were friends. Now, you want anything or not? I got customers waiting."

Max blinked and shook her head, her mind still swirling with questions. "No. I mean, yeah. Gimme a pitcher."

The bartender nodded curtly and moved away to get the beer. As Max watched him fill the pitcher, the worry and concern that she'd been feeling turned back into anger and irritation, partly at herself for having gotten so worried over nothing, but mostly at Alec for making her.

He'd left with his arms around a couple of friends. He'd volunteered to get the beer, and then he'd forgotten about them and had just left with a couple of friends. He'd gone without a word to anyone, he'd left his leather jacket there, and he'd made them worry about him. He'd made her worry about him because he'd just left.

'Damn him,' Max thought as the bartender put the full pitcher down in front of her. 'He's so gonna pay for this one.'

She felt an arm wrap around her waist and spun in surprise, only relaxing when she saw Zack smiling down at her.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

Max glanced around the bar once more for good measure, as some small part of her argued that Alec wouldn't just leave like that, not without telling someone and definitely not without getting his jacket. It told her that there was something off about what the bartender had said about him. She saw nothing disturbed or out of place, nothing to make her think that the bartender had been anything but honest, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Alec's sudden leaving than she was hearing. There was something seriously wrong with the image of Alec throwing his arms around anyone, but still, anything was possible.

'Alec's a big boy,' she told herself. 'He can take care of himself.'

"It's good," she said to Zack. "Alec bailed."

Was she imagining things, or did Zack's smile brighten at that? She really didn't want to think about what Alec had said, just like she didn't want to think about the way Zack had snapped at Logan earlier in the day. Zack was fine; he was just having a bit of trouble adjusting to being back out in the world as himself instead of a Steelhead's favorite toy. That's all it was.

It had to be.

"Let's get back to the others," she said as she picked up the pitcher. Alec was gone, but she was sure he was fine, wherever he was. She had her brother by her side and her friends waiting for her in the back room. There was nothing to worry about. She had a smile on her face by the time she'd turned around.

"They'll start sobering up soon if we don't get this beer to them, and you really don't wanna see that."

Chapter Two

He couldn't move.

He vaguely remembered having been half-carried/half-dragged to somewhere because his body wasn't working right, but this felt different. He pulled at his arms, and he felt the muscles respond, but they didn't actually move. He tried it with his legs and got the same results. He blamed his brain - still muddled and sluggish from whatever he'd been dosed with - for taking so long to realize that he was tied down.

It only took a few more seconds for him to realize that it wasn't just his wrists and ankles that were restrained. There was a strap across his chest, too, and another across his knees. There was a rag or cloth of some kind in his mouth that was held in place by something tied around his head. He didn't know what he was laying on, but it was flat, hard and cold. And there was a sheet covering him from head to toe.

The rest of the memories of his Friday night, how he'd gone from buying a pitcher of beer at Crash to wherever he was, came crashing back when he heard the voices that were starting to filter through the haze in his brain.

"Hey, Eddy," he heard one of them say, and he thought it sounded like the big black one with the nails sticking out of his forehead. "You think he's got nanocytes inside him like the other one did?"

"Oh!" said another voice excitedly, and that one he knew belonged to the short one with the metal arm. "Let's hook him up to the machine and find out!"

"Yeah," said a third voice. Alec recognized Eddy's British accent immediately. "But first things first. We find soldier boy number one, and then we start tinkering with the both of them."

Alec froze inside and out when he heard those words. "Tinkering" with him and Zack? What the hell did "tinkering" mean?

"If nothing else, we'll have a fresh supply of organs for our friends overseas."

Okay, yeah, that sounded bad. He liked his organs just fine where they were, and he'd really like them to stay there. He started squirming as much as he could, pulling against his restraints even though he knew that doing so was pointless. Even if he could get himself loose - which honestly wasn't happening as sluggish as his muscles still were - where exactly was he going to go?

He thought that now would be a good time for Max to burst through the door and give him a lecture on getting himself captured.

Again.

He couldn't believe that he was in such a mess in the first place. He was getting soft without Manticore, that was his problem. He wasn't keeping up with his training, and his instincts were starting to fade. He'd let himself feel safe at Crash, even though he knew the Steelheads knew about it, even though that was where Lux had threatened him the first time. He'd let himself believe that it was a good place to let his guard down, and he'd let himself be drugged and dragged off by dumb and dumber.

Because he wasn't good enough anymore.

And yeah, now would be a really good time for Max to show up, lecture or no. He had it coming anyway, for being sloppy. And he didn't really care what she said as long as she showed up. The sooner the better.

The self-recriminations stopped as quickly as they'd started, when Eddy pulled away the sheet that covered him. Alec blinked against the almost blindingly bright light from the metal fixture directly above his head, but he was careful to keep a mask of boredom on his face. Eddy reached down and roughly pulled away the rubber tubing that had been holding the gag in place. Alec spit the rag out of his mouth and worked his jaw up and down a few times as he glanced around quickly.

He recognized the room he was in from some of the old movies and television shows that he'd been watching - an embalming room. He was in an embalming room. And he had fuzzy memories of being dragged through a musty old house filled with coffins to get there. It wasn't a far stretch from those facts to the conclusion that he was in what had probably been - once upon a time - a funeral home. That meant that the hard, flat, cold surface that he was tied to was most likely an embalming table, with grooves in the surface to channel the blood away from whatever body was being drained on it.

That did not bode well.

"Don't worry, soldier boy," Eddy said, as though he'd read Alec's thoughts. But he really didn't have to see into his mind, Alec had to admit to himself, because he was pretty sure it had shown on his face. "You're not dead."

"Not yet," the short one piped up from behind him.

"What do you want from me?" Alec asked, though he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"We want our toy soldier back," Eddy said. "Where is he?"

Alec tried to shrug, but the restraints made the movement barely noticeable. "How should I know?" he asked honestly. "I've never even talked to the guy."

Eddy looked down at him, the look on his face one of consideration. He didn't know whether Alec was telling him the truth or not.

"I don't really want to, either," he added. "He tried to kill me, ya know. Doesn't exactly inspire warm fuzzy feelings."

Eddy obviously didn't know what to do with that information. He turned to the other two.

"Was he at the bar alone, Bird?"

Bird shrugged. "Uh... didn't notice. You, Tuck?"

"Nuh uh," Tuck answered with a shake of his head.

Eddy sighed. "Well, what was he doing when you snatched him up?"

"Gettin' a pitcher of beer," Tuck answered.

"Yeah," Bird agreed, bobbing his head up and down.

"Oh, a pitcher?" Eddy turned back to Alec, who tried to shrug again.

"What? I'm a big drinker."

"Oh, shut up." Eddy enforced the order by shoving the rag back into Alec's mouth and pulling the tubing tight around it again. Then he turned back to the other two Steelheads and motioned them toward the far corner of the room. It was obvious to Alec that he wasn't meant to hear what they were discussing over there, which he took to mean they didn't know how sensitive his hearing was. He could hear every word they said, but there was no way he was going to let them know that.

"It could be that our boy was there, too, right under your noses. You check the back room?"

"Didn't know there was one," Bird said. "You, Tuck?"

Alec didn't know what Tuck's answer was, because he didn't say anything, but it was pretty clear that Eddy didn't like it. The next thing Alec heard was Eddy saying, "You twits!" and then the sounds of said twits being smacked. Alec ginned inwardly.

At least he wasn't the only one who knew that Eddy's sidekicks were idiots.

"You're going back there," Eddy continued. "And I'm going with you to make sure you don't screw it up again."

There was the slam of a door, and then Alec was alone.

It took a few seconds for that fact to sink in to Alec's still slightly fuzzy brain. But once he did realize it, he immediately set about trying to figure out how to get out of his restraints.

His left wrist felt like it wasn't secured quite as tightly as the right, so that was the one he focused on first. Once he had that wrist free, he'd be able to release the other one, and then his chest. After that, it would be a matter of seconds to get his legs and ankles free, and then he could make a break for it. He'd be long gone before the three stooges even got to Crash, let alone back from it.

He was paying so much attention to his efforts to free himself that he didn't hear the door open again. He didn't hear the soft footsteps that crossed the floor toward the table he lay on, either. He didn't know anyone was in the room with him until he felt the fingers close around his arm.

Less than a second later, he felt four steel spikes sink themselves into the skin above his elbow. He tried to flinch away, both from them and the voice that accompanied them.

"Hello, pretty," Lux said as she leaned down over him. "I'm so glad you're here."

The hour and a half that Alec had been gone had passed quickly from Max's perspective, but the words he'd said to her before he left were ringing in her ears loud and clear. Zack's behavior had been growing steadily more and more alarming as the night had gone on, and Max was finding it harder to deny that there was something seriously wrong with her brother. It was obvious that he had his memories back, but some of them, particularly the ones of Logan, seemed to be distorted.

"Where's Logan tonight?" Cindy asked. "He's usually here on Friday."

"He's busy," Max answered evasively, hoping that Zack hadn't heard the question. Logan wasn't really busy that Max knew of; she just hadn't asked him to come. Zack's reaction to him that morning had been less than friendly. In fact, Zack had been downright hateful. She was crossing her fingers that if she kept them apart for a few days, Zack would calm down.

But Zack had heard the question, and he didn't seem pacified by Max's answer.

"I thought he loved you," he said snidely. "What's more important than that?"

"Zack, don't," she almost pleaded.

"Ya know, the last time I saw him, he couldn't keep his hands off you." Zack reached across the table and laid his hand on top of hers. "I guess that's changed?"

Max shook her head. "It's complicated. And I don't wanna talk about it." She really didn't want to talk about it, about the virus she carried. But even if she had wanted to explain it to him, she couldn't. Not at Crash, and not when there was a chance of Sketchy listening in.

"You deserve to be loved, Max," Zack insisted, squeezing her hand tightly with his. "You deserve to be touched, and kissed, and..."

"Outside!" Max ordered abruptly. She jumped to her feet and pulled her hand away.

"Max?" Zack looked sincerely surprised by her reaction.

"Outside, Zack. Now."

Zack stood and walked toward the front door, but the look of confusion never left his face. Max sighed and turned back to the table to tell O.C. and Sketchy good night.

"We're gonna blaze, guys. I'm tired, and I don't think Zack's feeling so great."

"You okay, Boo?" Cindy asked. She knew all about Zack's situation, and she'd obviously noted his strange behavior.

Max nodded, grateful for her friend's support. "Yeah, it'll be fine. He's just still a little confused, I think. See ya at home later?"

"Nah," Cindy answered with a shake of her head. "You two have enough to worry about without Original Cindy gettin' in the way."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise." Max smiled quickly before she turned to leave. She turned back just a second later, though, as another thought occurred to her. "Alec's jacket..."

"Got it, Boo," Cindy answered, holding it up for Max to see. "Gonna give the boy a piece of my mind before I give it back."

"Yeah," Sketchy interjected, his speech slightly slurred. "Skipped out on his turn to buy!" He punctuated his declaration by staggering slightly and catching himself on the table, making the glasses clink into each other loudly. "Whoa."

Max huffed a quick laugh as she turned and hurried toward the front stairs where Zack was waiting for her. The last thing she heard from the back room was Cindy tiredly berating Sketchy. "You're gonna knock the table over, ya big drunk clutz!"

Zack was standing at the bottom of the stairs smiling broadly as Max approached. "Isn't Cindy coming?"

Max shook her head, took Zack by the elbow, and led him up the stairs. "I thought I told you to wait outside."

Zack still looked confused when Max opened the door a bit more forcefully than she needed to and pulled him out into the night behind her.

"I don't understand, Max. What did I do?"

She finally let go of his arm and turned to face him. The words 'Alec was right' were repeating over and over in her head, and she wanted to ignore them, but she couldn't.

"You can't act like that, Zack. You were acting like we're..."

"Like we're what?" he asked, stepping closer to her than she was comfortable with. She shook her head again and stepped away from him.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" His voice was maddeningly sweet, innocent and... intimate. No, this was wrong. She had to be misunderstanding him. "All those months, Max, with no one to protect you. And I didn't know if you were okay. I don't know what I'd have done if anything had happened to you."

He leaned forward, and it took her longer than it should have to realize what he was doing. Just before his lips brushed hers, she stepped back again.

"Zack..."

"No one's gonna hurt you, Max. I just wanna take care of you. You know that."

And he was leaning forward to kiss her again. She couldn't believe this was happening; she couldn't let this happen.

She punched him.

"Stop that!"

"What's wrong? I love you, Max. I just want things to be the way they were."

"Things were never like that with us," she insisted. "You're my brother!"

"But I remember..."

Suddenly the look in Zack's eyes changed, became glazed and distant. Max didn't know what was going through his mind, but from the different expressions flashing across his face, she thought that none of it could be good. When the dazed look cleared and he snapped back to reality with eyes filled with anger and hatred, she knew that none of it had been.

It had been a long time since she'd seen anyone going through Manticore flashbacks, but now that she was seeing Zack come out of one, she realized exactly what was going on.

"Whatever you're thinking, Zack, you're wrong."

"It's him, isn't it?" Zack said, as though he hadn't heard her at all. She wondered if he really had. "How can you love him and not me, after what he did to you?"

"He didn't do anything," she said as calmly as she could. "Zack, you've got to listen to me."

"He betrayed us! He's a traitor!"

"No!" she insisted, glancing around quickly to make sure that no one was within earshot. "No, they did something to you back at Manticore. Logan is not the enemy."

"I died for you!" Zack cried in despair.

"I know," she answered. "I know you did, and I can never repay you for that. But you've got to listen to me..."

"He did this to me!" He threw his arm up in front of his face, staring at the exo-harness with disgust, then started pulling at the freshly-healed skin on his face without warning. "He's the reason I look like this!"

"Stop it!" Max cried desperately. "Zack, stop!"

But it was too late for Zack to stop. He stood in front of her, looking exactly as he had the day before. Pieces of skin still clung to the metal that covered the damage the bullet had done to Zack's skull the day he'd killed himself to save her life, and the red light where his left eye had been was blinking angrily.

"He's going to pay for what he did to both of us."

"Zack, no!"

She tried to grab his arm as he darted past her, but he was too fast. She turned and ran after him, but had only gone a few steps before she realized that his biosynthetics were giving him a distinct physical advantage; she'd never be able to catch him in time.

"Zack!" she called after him one last time, still clinging to the hope that he'd turn around and come back to her, and be her brother again, even though she knew he wouldn't. He was too far gone now, too tightly in the grip of whatever Manticore had programmed him to believe before she'd destroyed it.

He'd said he was going after Logan, and she had no reason to doubt that he'd do exactly that. She knew of a payphone less than a block away in the other direction, and she ran to it as fast as she could. Maybe if she warned Logan, he'd have time to get out of the apartment and get to safety before Zack got there.

Eddy pulled the large black car to a stop in front of Crash and climbed out. Bird and Tuck got out, too, and followed him to the door of the bar.

"You two knuckleheads go check that back room," Eddy said.

"What are you gonna do, Eddy?" Bird asked.

"I'm gonna stand right here and watch for soldier boy, in case he gives you the slip on his way out."

Bird and Tuck nodded in unison and walked through the door.

An hour later, they walked out again, as empty-handed as they were empty-headed.

"Closing time," Bird said. "And he's not in there."

"Last person out was that stoner guy we pounded a couple'a weeks ago," Tuck added. "The frail's mule."

Eddy shook his head in frustration. "And you didn't think that maybe he might know where our boy is?"

"We did," Bird said quickly. "But he bolted out the back door as soon as he saw us. Time we got outside, he was gone."

"Get in the car," Eddy growled. "Maybe Lux got the poofter to talk while we were gone."

Part Two