Author’s Notes: This is an action/adventure, depressing, ‘omigod, it has plot!’ A/M ficcy. Big freaking surprise, I know, more like, been done a thousand times. But this one’s got better plot then the others, so THERE! J/K. So be a sport and read it anyway, okay? And then you can rant or rave to me in e-mail. Isn’t that so much better then just stopping right now? I mean you already went to the trouble of clicking the link and everything!
Story Notes: Post-Freak Nation, way post. And a not too happy conclusion from that realm.
Summary: The transgenic war for freedom is over. But at what cost? For the remainders, beginning again is far from simple.
Rated: R [for now]
Feedback: Love it? Hate it? Go on, you’ll be my best friend! See, all you have to do is click the little link! goddess_delenn@yahoo.com
Date Started: 7 April 2006. Date Finished: N/A
Ground Zero
By Delenn
It was like waking from a nightmare, and then realizing that the nightmare was just beginning.
Staring at the charcoal stained floors, a flat wasteland visible where there used to be walls. Rubble from the missing ceilings. And the smell...
Well, there was nothing to do about that anyway.
Sharp eyes scanned the disaster, noticing things (bodies, bones, blood, screams, memories, ruins) they'd rather not. In what still held some resemblance to a corner, stood a lone metal pole, still standing; strips of singed, discolored cloth still hanging from it.
The flag.
It had been moved there, inside, when they'd all had to come inside. Standing there as some proud symbol, a reason, a memory, a delusion of why they were still fighting so hard, so long.
Now it stood in shreds, like the rest of Terminal City. The rest of the world.
She stood there staring, frozen by the sight of that ruined flag on top of everything else. Still so proud.
He rushed forward, calmly, and seized the pole between his two hands, lifting it gently out of its concrete holder. He stared at it for a long moment and then, with not so much as a word, snapped it in half and tossed it among the debris of the floor.
When he returned to her side, neither said a word. Took one last look around and turned, movements deceptively slow as they walked out of the ruins. Reached two out of place, new looking motorcycles and got on.
The roaring engines, leaving the place (memories) far behind, was the first noise to be heard beyond the snapping of metal. And the last.
/0/
"Are you insane, Max?" Staring up at her wide-eyed and irritated, Alec couldn't believe his ears.
Her usual bitchy comments were reserved for when there wasn't a crowd muttering in the background, waiting to see who won this battle of dominance. "It's the only way!"
Careful to interrupt one of Alec and Max's battles, Mole cut in, "We've lost too many already. We can't keep on this way."
"Look at us," Max was addressing the crowd again, ignoring the icy glare on her back, "they've driven us practically underground again. Who wants to go back to hiding in sewers?!"
"That's not the issue," Alec cut in smoothly, voice low and easily indiscernible to the rest of the crowd, who was exclaiming excitedly at Max's comment. "You know it's not, Maxie."
Swinging back around to face him, Max's eyes held enough pain to reassure Alec that she knew just as well as he did. Her voice dropped to a whisper, "I don't know what else to do."
"Max…" she shoved papers at him and he stopped, staring down at the ultimatum. The walls were closing in on all sides, as they had been for months. Only now, the last chink was in place and there was no room to maneuver.
"It's us - it's us or everyone." Her eyes pleaded with him for understanding.
Biting back a shaky breath, Alec nodded. He nodded, just like that. Because of her. Raising his voice, he addressed the crowd, "Let's show them! Let's show them who's the next stage of evolution."
Wild applause met his statement, any concerns abandoned.
From the side, Mole shook his head.
/0/
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