HEROES Chapter 4

Morgan sat in the hummer for a few minutes watching Yelena and Tim. Finally, having had enough, she got out of the vehicle with her bag of first aid supplies and walked over to the man on the ground, ignoring Tim.

She gasped when she saw his face. Opening the bag, she began to clean his various cuts and bruises, her hands gentle. Once she was done with his face, she lifted his shirt, seeing the bruising along his ribcage. She didn't know what else to do for him and looked up at Tim.

"What are we going to do with him, Tim?" She turned her gaze to Yelena and saw the woman look away from her. That was when she knew. They were going to leave him here. Her lavender gaze grew hard, something Tim had been seeing more and more of late with her.

Throwing her things back into her bag, she rose, no longer looking at either one of them.

"Fine, if that's the way it's supposed to be, then fine. Who am I to argue with you."

She stormed past the hummer, clearly not riding with Tim nor Yelena back to the house. She was angry, that much was clear in the way she walked away, and she was confused. She couldn't believe that they would leave an injured person just lying there, someone who needed help. Well, she'd just have her four-legged friends keep an eye on him and sneek back whenever she could from now until they left to care for him. She, herself, couldn't just leave him.

Morgan stopped walking, not too far from the hummer. Getting herself under control, she turned back around, walking back until she stood in front of Tim, glaring up at him.

"How can you just leave him?! You didn't leave me or is that because you figured I was a helpless woman so I wasn't any threat?! He's injured, for God's sake!! He needs help!! I don't believe you!!"

She stood there, waiting to see what Tim would say, seeing that he was becoming angry as well. She didn't understand the dangers that he could bring, all she saw was someone needing help.

Tim's eyes became hard as he struggled to keep his temper in check, but Morgan, even seeing this, for once, stood her ground.

"He could be part of RAID for all we know, Morgan! He could be a plant from your father!" That got her attention as fear flared up in her eyes for a brief second then was gone. She had forgotten in her anger, that Yelena was still there.

"My father isn't smart enough to plant someone here! He's nuts, remember!!! And are you telling me that RAID would beat someone to a pulp then plant him near us?! That's utterly rediculous!! If you don't want to bring him back to the house, fine!! I'll care for him myself, out here!!" Her lavender eyes were now turning dark, very dark with her anger. "If it was me laying there, and you didn't know who I was, would you leave me, Tim? Would you have left me, even if you didn't know who I was?"

Allie walked into the building through the secret entrance along the alley, heading up the stairs to where everyone was at. She had come to find out if they needed anything that her money could buy. It was how she helped out as well as fighting alongside them when needed. She supported the resistance finanacially and her father, unbeknownst to her mother, did as well.

Walking into the room, she smiled at Bronze Devil, waving to him, giving him a questioning look regarding Toril and Russel. Once introductions were made, she relaxed, smiling at everyone else, except for Kekoa. Him, she stuck her tongue out at. She couldn't help it. He grated on her nerves and even though it was childish, it somehow made her feel a little better. Thing was, he grated on her nerves because she liked him and his carefree nature. But, it went against her more serious nature. Having spent time in the meta-human juvenile delinquint compound, she had learned that life didn't give you much to be care-free about.



Once Bronze Devil, Toril, and Russell left, Allie walked over to the others, sitting down at the table.

She looked at Ayana, "I know that you guys are needing supplies, and with Silicone gone, I wanted to find out if you're needing any extra finances this month. I was figuring you do, so tell me how much and I'll make the deposit."

Yelena didn’t like where this was going and while she was proud of Morgan for standing her ground, the young woman was still very naïve in the way things worked with Meta-Humans and the way they were treated by agencies like RAID.

Tim and Morgan were too angry to talk this out between them and while Yelena didn’t like getting between them, she had to step up or they were going to get caught with their asses hanging out and no way to protect themselves.

Putting her finger and thumb between her lips, she pursed her lips and sent a rush of air past her digits and lips to create a loud, piercing whistle that got both of their attention. Giving a hard look to Tim, Yelena turned her attention first to Morgan.

”Your need to help is touching, da, but you not know what Tim and I know. Too often we fall victim to such tricks and find selves fighting for life all over again. Are we going to leave man here? You bet your ass we are. And yes…RAID WOULD beat someone if it meant they could catch us. Self preservation comes first, Morgan. Right now, that is all that matters. Nothing more.”

Taking a threatening step closer to the younger woman, she lowered her voice and narrowed her gaze.

”Offer aid now if you think you have to. But I will chain you to bed myself if I have to so you not come back out here alone.”

Looking over at Tim, she furrowed her brows.

”Is time for us to leave area. Toril is in Chicago. While I not get confirmation of it yet, gut tells me that is where he went. We need to get back to safe house, pack what we can then get the hell out of here while we still can. The sooner, the better.”

Glancing at Morgan then back to Tim, she turned and started walking away.

”See you both at safe house.”

After a few steps the Russian started jogging again like nothing had happened but in truth she was deep in thought. Why couldn’t she remember anything about the man other than he was beat and bruised all to hell? Something was very strange about him. And the more she thought about it, the more she didn’t like how she the feeling about it all. It just wasn’t….right.

Morgan took a step back when Yelena stepped closer to her. She'd never seen the russian like this and she was thinking that she'd rather with a pissed off Tim than her right now.

Realizing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with this, she finished patching up the man with what she had and headed back to the hummer, climbing in waiting for Tim. She realized that she also couldn't remember anything about him except that he'd been injured. She rubbed her temples, wondering what was going on.

When Tim got into the vehicle, she saw that he was still upset with her, but she said nothing.

Once back at the house, she went upstairs and grabbed her bag, which was already packed as she'd never unpacked it, just used what she needed from it when she had to.

Heading back downstairs, she saw Tim talking to Zoe and Dominic and walking over to him, she looked up at him, feeling confused as she could remember an injured man, but that was all. "I'm ready, Tim whenever everyone else is ready to go." She headed out to the back porch, standing there, upset but now quite knowing why.

When Flaming Angel came walking into the room, Bronze Devil cracked a sideways smile, "Well, yay me. The whole gang is here." he said cynically. "No need to roll out the red carpet, we're just stoppin' in to get some info." He took a drag off of his cigar and exhaled a large cloud of smoke into the air, hovering over head of the fire mutant. The Devil figured she and smoke probably got along just fine so he thought nothing of it, then he gave Totem a little nudge, which almost knocked the kid off his feet. "Well show them the picture so we can get outta here."



Russel walked over to the one called 'Seizure' whom he was standing closest to and handed her the photo of Morgan. He told them her name and then became a little tongue tied when he tried to explain why he was looking for her with sounding off the wall.

"Jesus Christ." Swore Gabriel as he butted into the conversation, "Totem here, ran into this girl's aunt at an art exhibition and to make a long story short, she's clairvoyant or something. She gave this kid the heads up that she's in danger and followed the aunt's directions to me and Wraith. If ya see her, give me a call. Totem will be stayin' with me."

Bronze Devil took another puff of his cigar as he surveyed the group sternly. "So, haven't heard much you guys of lately, been hearing a lot about this Cursed Knight and Amazon though." He jeered, then blew another cloud of smoke in Sigma's direction.

Ultramarine shook her head and proceeded past the Devil while putting her helmut on. Gabriel looked down at her as she stormed out of the room. "That's right. Go mop the streets while two super-villains trash the city." remarked the ex-super-hero.

The tall woman stopped before the doorway, her body tensed with anger. A smug smile curled the lips of Bronze Devil as he chewed on his cigar, but then it fell, disappointed, as the women snapped the strap of her helmut and left without a word. He then looked over a Toril, "Let's get outta here, Wraith, you too Totem."

Both Toril and Russel both shared a confused look. They thought they were going to help out the resistance, but it seemed that Bronze had other plans.



"Well, I guess we're leaving." Said Wraith as he ushered Totem along with him. "I'm sorry to hear about your friend, Silicone, my condolences."

Wraith, followed Totem and Bronze Devil out and didn't look back. When he heard Kekoa, mention the name Killswitch his heart had skipped a beat. He had first considered telling the Resistance Fighters about Surge's interest in her and what they had recently gone through but then he thought it was just as well that he kept quiet. He didn't know these meta's or their powers and they could just as easily overreact like the other group in Troy.

When they were back in Gabriel's truck and driving away, Toril removed his mask and thrust a look at his old friend. "What the hell was that back there, Bronze?", he demanded.

"What are ya talking about?" Denied Gabriel.

"The attitude." Toril clarified. "What the hell happened to you?"

The Bronze Devil grit his teeth around his stub of a cigar then spat it out the window. "Registration happened." he growled.

Toril leaned back in his seat. He understood then why his friend was so hostile toward the resistance fighters. As a registered meta-human, Bronze Devil couldn't lift a finger to help them, just entering the safe-house he was taking a big risk and harboring two unregistered meta-humans wouldn't be looked kindly upon either. Toril knew his friend well enough to know that it was probably like a hammer in the gut when he couldn't follow up the respect they gave to him. Gabriel was as tough as they came, but no one could stand being robbed of their dignity.

"Sorry, man. I didn't think." Apologized Toril.

"Yeah, for a guy with such a big brain, you're pretty f&%#ing stupid sometimes." Stated Gabriel then he smiled a little to let, Toril know he was just kidding and that they were alright.

Toril's face stretched into his million dollar smile. Then he proceeded to fill in the Bronze Devil with what he knew about Killswitch. The two then, with Russel listening intently in the back, exchanged information about the resistance fighters of New York and Chicago as they drove slowly back Gabriel's house.

As Gabriel, Toril and Russel were traveling back to Gabriel’s place, their serene trip was interrupted by the sudden appearance of something dropping from the sky and landing in front of them. Gabriel swore loudly and slammed on the bakes, then yanked the wheel in an attempt to swerve and miss what ever it was.

When he finally got stopped, all three men sat in total silence for a few seconds not sure of what exactly just happened. Just when they were thinking of getting out of the car to both check to see what it was and to check their pants, they saw someone slowly standing up. And it was definitely a female.

She was dressed in an animal print outfit and her face was painted with tribal symbols. Her long, brown hair looked as wild and untamed as the rest of her. When she stood to her full height, she was almost as tall as Toril. Brushing herself off like it was nothing, she seemed to notice she had an audience.

The smile that eased across her painted face was undeniable devious and she took a few steps closer to the vintage automobile to lean down so her hands rested on the hood. Her dark brown eyes settled on Gabriel then shifted to Russel then finally settled on Toril.

”Evening, boys. Heading home after a hard night of partying? Gabriel….the little lady of the house won’t be happy when she finds out you’ve been having fun without her. Who’s your friends?”

Sirens began to sound in the distance echoing off the building walls and she glanced behind her before looking back to the men in the vehicle, particularly Toril.

”I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to get going. I’m sure we’ll bump into each other again. Tell the little misses I said hello for me Gabe, will you?”

Letting her gaze rest on Toril’s handsome features a little longer than the others, she winked then stepped back and crouched then took off into the air once more.

Bronze Devil lumbered out of his truck, carrying in his right hand a small canon, a weapon he called the 'meta-stopper', but the woman was long gone before he could even raise it. "God-Dammit!" he roared at the night sky.



Toril had gotten a good look at the leopard suited super-woman, in fact he had found it a little hard to take his eyes away. "Don't tell me Bronze. Amazon, right?"

"What gave it away." Quipped Gabriel as he leaned against the hood of his truck, glancing one more time at the starry sky.

"Oh, I dunno. Six foot five, leopard print body suit, and curves..."

"Don't even go there, Studio." Gabriel interrupted, "That woman is bad news. She's on RAID's top ten most wanted and you don't make the list by just knocking off corner stores, if ya know what I mean."

"Damn crying shame." Commented Toril.



"She seemed to know you." Mentioned Russel, who had just emerged out of the truck. Apparently waiting for an invitation or something. Toril nodded in agreement with the statement and was also curious of their connection.

Gabriel didn't like to talk about it but since the two guys were breathing down his neck he thought it best to just come out with it. "We fought once. It was about a month ago." He bluntly told them.

Toril could definitely tell there was more to the story. "And, why is she still around?" he spurred him on to elaborate, rolling his hand in front of him.

The Bronze Devil sighed. "I just happened to be around a jewelry store she was doing some late night shoppin' at and got the drop on her. She looked more like she was built for aerobics than power so I thought a little strong arming would do, but I...." he paused for a moment leaving Toril and Russel waiting anxiously, "... I... she gotta way."

Toril winced an eye, doubting that was how the story really went, "Com'on", he said. "Tell us what actually happened."

The Devil folded his massive arms across his chest. "She kicked my ass." he finally admitted through clenched teeth, "Now can we drop it."

Russel found it hard to believe and Toril even more so. "I've heard of mutants, who despite their physiques were able to lift great weights." he began to explain, "Battallion had the ability. Aside from his powerful, densely packed muscles he could also manipulate gravitons in order to lift a battleship. The power of flight, invulnerability a super strength are all connected in some meta-humans, Amazon is obviously gifted with these abilities."

Russel furrowed his brows. "You a scientist or something?" He asked Toril.

"Geneticist, actually, but I have done extensive research on meta-humans." Toril explained, then he returned his attention back to Gabriel, "So how strong is she?"

"Let's just say, we had a game of racket ball, and she was the racket." Answered Bronze Devil in his own colourful manner. He then straightened up and got back into the truck. "Let's get the hell outta here."

All the way back to Gabriel's place, Toril couldn't stop thinking of how to take down, Amazon. Even if she was only half as strong as Battalion, she'd still be far too much for them handle. He'd seen Bronze Devil pick up a bus, but there was little doubt in his mind that she could probably greatly exceed that feat, but just how much was the question, and for how long?

As they drove into Ukrainian Village, Toril then considered that they may need to borrow some RAID technology, namely their meta-ability suppressant. It's effects were short lived, and in time meta-human's would develop a natural resistance from prolonged exposure but it would give them more than enough time to keep her in an induced coma until a cell could be made that could contain her. Of course getting the suppressant might prove to be as difficult a task as taking down the Amazon without it, but in the wee hours of the morning he couldn't think of any other plans. Perhaps things would be clearer after a good nights rest.

(Wednesday, 2:00 am - May 20th - Bronze Devil's residence in Ukrainian Village, Chicago)

Tim was silent the entire journey back to the safehouse, furious that Morgan had not realized yet that the security of the safe house was paramount. And just how much danger they were all in if discovered by the FBI or R.A.I.D. or even Beacon for that matter. When Morgan went upstairs, Yelena and Tim informed Zoe what had transpired. Tim said to Zoe and Yelena. "Let's send Cassius back ta the injured man with one of them thar throw away cell phones. He kin holler fur an amblance ta come an git the man. He's less apt ta be recognized than any of us. Once he makes up some cock an bull story 'bout how he found him, he kin high tale it back har. .... Meantime I recockon we best be gitting ready ta pull out fur Chicaga. This har place is gittin' way too poplur. " Tim waited for the others to comment, when Morgan came back down stairs with her bag, obviously confused with the situation. They all looked at her. "Cassius ya watch yurself now, that thar stranger jus' might be a rattle snake. He makes any sudden moves ya just shoot his ass." Tim had already decided he would follow Cassius and stay out of site, just in case anything went wrong.

Morgan had felt them looking at her and she knew that somehow she'd messed up. She knew it had something to do with someone being injured, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, all she knew was that Tim was furious with her, more so than he'd ever been. Even the others gave her looks as if she were nuts or something.

She waited on the back porch, watching as Cassius left. When Tim came out to the back porch, Morgan looked up at him, her lavender eyes filled with regret, for what she didn't know, but she knew she was sorry for something, that she'd done something wrong. Turning away, she walked away from him, moving to the far end of the porch, sitting down in one of the wicker chairs, her bag next to her.

Pulling out her notebook, she began jotting down more notes. One thing she had to do once they got to Chicago, was to learn some self-defense, hand to hand for her fight with Frank. She's also been secretly working on calling to animals and hiding her glowing eyes when she did. She usually wound up with a horrible headache, but it was becoming worth it as she was getting better at controlling how brightly her eyes glowed. If she could get them toned down just a little bit more, then she'd be able to call to the animals with her eyes closed and no one would be the wiser.

Sitting there, she kept writing in the notebook, looking up when she felt Tim's eyes still on her. She looked back down and kept writing.

Allie went home, changed into her everyday clothes, i.e. jeans, blouse, boots, and headed for the 'office'.

Once there, she went inside and began banging on the computer, making secret withdrawals and depositing them into them 'dummy' advertising company called 'UpStreet Advertising'. The names on the account matched the fake ids of Ayana and Keoka so that they could withdraw funds as they saw necessary. Between her and her father, they kept the resistance up and running as well as the downtown gym for kids, where she volunteered.

Once she was done, she called Ayana, letting her know that everything was done and to let her know if more was needed.

Sigma left the Green Street Safe House, not long after Ultramarine and the Bronze Devil had cleared out. He had only dropped by to learn who was going to replace Silicone, their now dead computer specialist and also because the ex-superhero had said he was dropping by. The Devil was a disappointment, however, and Sigma figured he could have just as well called up Kekoa to learn about this new hacker called Killswitch who would be calling the shots. He planned to be at Green Street when the new girl and Flaming Angel finally met. That would be interesting as Sigma was often intrigued by conflicting emotions especially when they developed over a turf war.

The non-discript SUV made it's way from Green Street down the Dan Ryan Express way, down to the Woodlawn area south of the university. Sigma checked PDA tracking program as he turned east onto a side street and followed the trace to a dive on 63rd Street. His prey was definitely a creature of habit. For a couple of days he had been tracking him, and the hole in a wall pub seemed to be a favorite place and one that Sigma was sure he would continue to haunt for sometime after they had their little meeting. Everything was in place now. Slate had found a suitable crypt in Oakwoods Cemetery and knew the habits of the security guards. Now all he had to do was capture his prize.

There was a thick layer of smoke hanging in the air of the local pub and Sigma figured they obviously hadn't heard of or acknowledged anti-smoking laws and when he saw the cliental it became apparent why. It was a biker bar and when the dark haired man dressed in beaten leathers walked in the sound deadened and all eyes fell on the stranger. Sigma kept his cool, and because he was wearing the common biker attire, the gang members soon accepted him and continued with their drinking and carousing.

As soon as Sigma sat down, one of the biker sluts was all over him. First she demanded a drink, which he purchased then proceeded to rub her hand along his thigh while she shot it back. "Classy girl." thought Slate who felt absolutely nothing. It wasn't until she began to massage his groin area that the vigilante began to feel something, but it had nothing to do with slut, and all to do with the sight of his next victim as he emerged from a back room. A big man with a handle bar mustache moved through the crowd and sat down at table near by the bar. Sigma observed him in the mirrors behind the bar, and could feel the rush of the impending kill coursing through his body.

The man was a one, John Cutter. A low life that had been bucking the system all his life, dismissed for such charges as murder, sexual assault and child pornography and molestation. Of course most of these charges occurred on the other side of the border and so here he was living free and carefree. Watching the man interact with his scum-bag friends, Slate felt anger, an intoxicating feeling that he savored like a drug.

Cutter got up and started to leave the bar and once he was out, Sigma proceeded to follow. Unfortunately he had forgotten about the woman who unknown to him had been growing more frustrated by his non-response to her sexual acts.

"What the f*$%# is your problem, queer!" Shouted the prostitute, drawing several sets of angry eyes his way.

Sigma, didn't want to lose sight of Cutter, but some of the bikers were closing in on him. "Look, I don't want any trouble." Requested Slate, then he turned the hooker, "How much do you want?" he asked as he reached for his money clip but to his surprise the woman stared back at him with a horrified expression.

"I'm no whore you f*%#ing faggot!" She roared to which Sigma was actually surprised and had to fight his way clear of the pub.

Two bikers came at him at the same time and ended up colliding when Sigma deftly slipped between them as he plowed his fist into a third that was charging him head on. His heavy blow drove the man back and into the oncoming door man, sending them both crashing to the floor. Slate then wasted little time getting into his vehicle and taking off after the biker and caught up with him heading south past the cemetery.

Sigma put on his mask and when the streets were fairly clear, drove Cutter's motorcycle into a parked car bouncing him off the hood and onto the side walk beyond. He wasted little time then and scooped the man off of the pavement and into the back of his truck where quickly bound and gagged him. Slate then drove to a gate that he could easily pick and turning off his lights, slowly drove to the crypt he had previously located. He took the murdering pedophile out of his plastic covered truck and forced him into the crypt where he secured him atop a slab and began to cut open the shirt so that he could expose the flesh.

Slate could feel a wave of emotions coursing through him. A deluge of raw emotion filling his normally barren soul when he made the first cut. The man screamed in pain and rage, but his muffled cries were of no concern to the psychopath. When he began to carve the large 'sigma' symbol across the chest of his victim, hacking away pieces of flesh he felt utter satisfaction and peace. Then when he was done and the man profusely bled out, Sigma finished him off by crucifying Cutter to a tree and pinning to his chest with a knife, paper copies of all the charges some defense lawyer had been able worm him out of.

Satisfied, Sigma made his way to another safe house by Davis Square Park. A rarely used basement facility, in a run down part of town that a portion of the many Resistance accounts helped pay for. He had made it his home, since it was practically forgotten and not one meta-human had set foot in the place in years. He parked his SUV in an old garage and from their made his way down a flight stairs and through a heavy metal door at the bottom.

Tim gathered his thoughts for a moment then walked up to Morgan. "We won't be leavin fur a few hars, Morgan, Thars is still a parsal of things ta get done." ..... He then knelt down next to her and said quietly "What ya gota realize Sunshine is that no matter what, our friends har an any whar we come 'cross foke like us. Thar safety comes first and tha security of ar safe houses. ...... Now that thar injured fella might just be a victim or he could be a plant. Tha hombres that ar aftar us 'll use any ruse thay kin to git us. Thay are worse than any rattle snake ya come across, even worse than Frank. Fur all we know Frank could be a workin fur R.A.I.D. along with that fella back thar."

He stood up then and said "Sweetheart ya gota good heart, an that be a plus in my book. But ya gotta keep that thar good heart in check sumtimes. Now I'm a gonna go keep an eye on Caassius. Ya stay right char and get my things gathered up fur me. When we gets back we'll be on ar way ta Chicaga." Tim then walked out to the barn, disabled the booby traps and opened the barn door. He climbed on one of the ATV's and took off to the stables up the rode.


Walking into the stables he greeted the man he had bought the horses from and had been carring for them. They saddled two horses and Tim tied the leads to the secon horse to his saddle. He then rode to a secluded spot where he could observe the injured man and waited for Cassius to show up.

(Wednseday - May 20 - 8:30am - A place along a trail west of the safehouse - Northwest of Troy, New York)

Discussions flew unheard around Shawn as he perched himself at the bottom of the stairs. His messenger bag sat at his feet, packed with new clothes and books for what would be yet another move, another place to learn to navigate. Shawn had moved more in a few weeks than he had in his entire life and the novelty was beginning to wear off. It seemed like he had just learned this safehouse’s general layout when he was told they were moving again. Still, it was hard to get too annoyed at the whole thing when it meant his life was finally taking an interesting turn.

The new device Zoe had made for him was almost permanently strapped around his shoulders, now as much as part of him as his label-maker had been. It was an odd thing for Shawn to feel so grateful for: A device that allowed him to communicate with others, something he had never been fond of. Now, it was a strange necessity as he was finally surrounded by people who didn’t treat him like he was retarded.

While the others argued about what to do about an injured man in the woods, Shawn opened his Machiavelli book and began running his fingers along the raised bumps, his head swaying slightly as his eyes gazed sharply upward, almost hidden in his heavy lids.
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Thanks to Morgan’s first aid, some of the swelling at gone down and Grey’s blood now only stained his clothes. Groaning faintly, he rolled over onto his back on the soft forest floor, caught in a kind of twilight: Not quite conscious, but slowly emerging from unconscious. Still, his condition’s hold on him was firm and a violent tic shook his entire body, sending a fresh wave of sharp pain stabbing out from his cracked ribs. Gritting his teeth, a few rasped shouts escaped him, echoing into the trees around him as the morning sun began to warm his clammy skin.

“Shit!” The volume was more than he should have been capable of, penetrating the trees as his body twitched painfully once more. Each sharp stab of pain seemed to shove him towards awareness a little more, but his gray eyes remained little more than slits as he body seemed to fight wakefulness.

'Ya stay right char and get my things gathered up fur me.'

Morgan's eyes shot sparks at Tim's back as he walked away from her. Who did he think she was, his personal maid?!

~He treats me like a little girl a third of the time, barks orders at me another third, and keeps my confused as to where I stand with him the rest of the time. NO MORE!!!~, Morgan thinks to herself. He was pushing her away and didn't even see it. She knew that he was just as confused as she was about their feelings for each other, but she was beginning to feel like she was nothing more than a kid to him half the time.

She rose from the chair, slamming the door on her way back into the house, causing everyone to look at her. She shot all of them glares, storming upstairs to Tim's room. By the time she got there, angry tears were trailing down her cheeks as she threw his things into his bag, not folding them, but wadding them up and smashing them down so that they would all fit. Then she took the bag downstairs and dropped it at the back door.

"Tell Tim his f***ing bag is packed and ready! I'll be outside. And tell him if I'm not back here by the time his highness is ready to leave, then leave without me. I can find my own way to f***ing Chicago!!"

She saw the shocked looks on Zoe's and Yelena's faces, but she no longer cared. Her nerves were shot to hell and back with everything that had happened over the last few years, especially the last several weeks.

Walking onto the back porch, she grabbed her own bag and headed for the trees, not caring if she made it back in time to leave with them or not.

She made it about a mile from the house, heading southwest from the house. She called to a hawk, using it's eyes to check on Tim and Cassius, making sure that they were okay. Seeing that they were, she quickly released the hawk sending her on her way before standing back up and moving on.

~Maybe it's better this way~, she thinks to herself. ~I can meet up with them in Chicago and it will give me and Tim both a chance to calm down. Been on my own before, I can do so again.~

She sits down again, knowing that Frank was after her and she wasn't prepared yet. But, she also had a sneaking suspicion that he was indeed working for RAID and if she left, then he would follow her and not them. She could elude him til she got to Chicago, she knew she could. If she went with them, he would follow all of them and if her suspicions were correct, then he could very well bring RAID with him.

Her mind made up, she began walking, heading southwest. She stayed in the trees, away from roads and towns. She took out one of the throw away phones and made a choice to call the house, Yelena in particular, and tell her what it was she was doing.

"Lena, Morgan...I need you to listen and not say anything. I'm leaving. Frank is working for RAID, I'm sure of it and as he can track me..well, it makes me a liability.....no...no...Lena, listen to me, it's for the best. Tim made it clear that the group's safety comes first and if I'm with you right now, then you're not safe. I could very well lead RAID right to you all.....NO!!! Stay there, you can't find me anyway, trust me. Give Tim a message for me.....tell him I'm sorry I've been so much trouble and to just go to Chicago.....I'll see you all there in about a week......I'll be careful.......yes, this is the only way."

Morgan hung up before Yelena could say anything more, looked at the time on the phone and dropped the phone onto the ground. It was around 10:00 a.m. She was on her own again, but it was for the best. If Frank was indeed working for RAID, which she knew he was with what she saw, then this way they would track her through Frank and Tim and the group could make it to Chicago safe and sound.

She was on the move, finally. Frank loaded up in the black SUV and headed west. He didn't get far, when he had to stop and step out of the vehicle, opening his senses a little more, allowing the 'angels' to guide him.

She wasn't making this easy on him, but he didn't expect her to. Calling Berkshire, he informed him that Morgan was on the move and that she was headed west and where she was, the 'Cowboy' was. He couldn't get a direct pinpoint on her, but he knew she was moving and he would call when he had more information.

She was staying to the trees, using nature to obscure his tracking of her. Smart girl, his daughter, but not smart enough. Eventually, she would have to surface for supplies and he planned on being there when she did.

Agent Birkshire had called Frank back about a half hour after his last update. "Hunter, this is Birkshire." he announced using the new code name. "I've just been called down to Chicago, they're having a lot of problems down there and I need you help. I need you track a meta-human for me. I've met people with 'gifts' like yours before and I know that the 'angels' can lead you to other 'demons'."

"But she's on the move." Argued Frank, anxious to pursue his daughter.

"Well you're gonna have to make a choice." Replied Birkshire, "I need your help to catch a meta. This is a bad one Frank, she calls herself 'Slither' and she's already killed ten people that we know of. I have a sample of her blood and this may sound repulsive, but once you taste it, I know you'll be able to track her. We really need you on this one, Frank. Think about it, we'll be in Cleveland in a couple of hours. Call me, and we can meet there. It's time for you to start sharing that gift, I hope you do the right thing."

Birkshire ended the call and stared down the highway. He needed the Hunter on this one, this meta-human, Slither was dangerous and there was no telling how many people she was going to kill before they caught up with her (if they could). Frank's ability could save a lot a lives, he just hoped that he could forget about his vengeance for the moment and do the right thing.

Toril woke up at about nine 'o' clock, his room illuminated by a beam of mid-morning light streaming through the basement window. He stretched and yawned, still tired from the late night and considered staying in bed an hour longer. The guest room was very comfortable, and colorful, 'Ukrainians did love their clashing colour schemes', he mused, 'Julie definitely had the gene'.

He was just nodding off again when he was startled awake by a rumbling knock at his door. "Rise and shine!" Hollered Gabriel through the door, "Julie's waiting for ya. The gym awaits!" he relayed in a mocking tone.

"Yeah, yeah. Give me half an hour." Groaned Toril.

"Twenty minutes." Gabriel snapped back followed by a rascally laugh.

Toril rolled out of bed and threw on a pair of sweat pants. Sometimes he really hated Gabriel for the simple fact that the guy hardly needed any sleep. The guy could be fully rested after a few hours and could go without a wink of sleep for 96 hours before he really felt the need to close his eyes and he never stopped sharing that ability with those around him. Sometimes, Toril wondered how he ever kept up with the Bronze Devil and Battalion, then again they most likely slowed down for him.

Toril ran through the shower, got dressed and skipped up the stairs. As he crossed through the living room, he looked out the front window and saw Russel and Gabriel out front on the driveway. The hood of the kid's jeep was open and he and Bronze Devil were working on the engine. They seemed to be getting along great speaking in the strange tongue of mechanics and possibly sport's statistics, two things which meant absolutely nothing to Toril. He didn't watch mainstream sports, he didn't know much about them and knew even less about vehicles, other than pressing on the gas made them go and the brake made them stop. Despite his appearance, he was hardly a guy's guy, and he had always been a little jealous of that mystical bond that other men were able to share. Bronze Devil, however, respected him for his differences and they had always got along, but deep down Toril had always wanted to know what is like to be accepted into that club.

"Drink some juice before we go, Toril." Said Julie as she moved through the hallway, "It's fresh squeezed."

Toril turned away from the window and entered the kitchen. He poured himself a tall glass of orange juice, then pulled out the card that Bronze had given him last night and picked up the phone. The time would be 10:12 am, in New York so he figured that someone would be awake at the safe house if that was indeed what the phone number was to. He dialed the number and a ring tone began to sound, but no one was picking up, then an answering service kicked in and a robotic sounding voice asked to leave a message.

"Hi, uh.. I'm calling for..." Toril wasn't sure whether or not to use her actual name, but then he considered that it wasn't actually her real name and the line was probably secure, "..Yelena... or Cassius. It's Toril. Call me back on my cell, 1-604-667-4545."

Toril left for Iron Works gym with Julie and would make sure that he kept his phone on him even at the gym incase one of the resistance fighters called him back.

For some reason, Frank chose not to tell Birkshire that Morgan was heading southwest, hopefully for Chicago or in that area. Calling Birkshire back, he asked him where to meet him in Cleveland and said that he'd be there.

Smiling to himself, Frank still didn't trust Birkshire, even though he'd assured him that he could have his daughter all to himself. Climbing back into the SUV, he headed for Cleveland, his senses humming, telling him that Morgan was indeed heading in the same direction. If everything played out the way he was hoping, then he could kill one demon and force his daughter to redeem herself before killing her right there in Chicago. There were plenty of abdandoned factories and warehouses where noone would hear nor care if they did hear her screams.

Smiling to himself, he'd decided that his life was definately turning around, for the better. He stopped at a pay-phone, calling Jackie Running Wolf. What Jackie didn't know was that Frank knew she was a meta and that she loved Morgan as much as she loved Cassie. He so enjoyed calling and telling her how close he was to catching Morgan. She seemed to believe that Frank honestly thought he was doing the right thing by calling her and telling her how close he was to Morgan. He laughed, ~The bitch doesn't realize that I thoroughly enjoy tormenting her, knowing she's worried sick over Morgan.~

Once he got off the phone, he could just picture Jackie's face when he told her that he was hot on Morgan's trail, heading southwest from New York and that he would call her again in a few days.

Once he reached Cleveland, he stopped at the rest area where he was to meet Birkshire and waited for him.

She'd been walking most of the day and was getting tired, as well as heartsick. She missed Tim and his southern drawl. But, she knew she had to keep going to keep Frank away from them, until she met up with them in Chicago, then she could put her plan into action.

She'd stopped a few times to rest among the trees, staying clear of the roads and highways. She'd eaten berries, drank from streams, and laid in the sweet smelling grass when she had to.

She thought of Yelena, her new friend, and wondered if she'd find this Toril guy. She hoped she did for it seemed as if Yelena liked him and she wanted to see her happy.

She kept going until night time and she had to sleep. Curling up inside a small cave, she smiled when a small fox curled up with her, his fluffy tail tickling her nose. Before she drifted off to sleep, she wondered if Tim would ever forgive her for leaving or if she'd totally screwed up any chance she had of having a relationship with him.

Morgan woke to a tail tickling her nose. Giggling, she moved the little fox and sat up, grabbing her bag and rummaging through it. She began to search frantically, panic in her eyes.

"Where is it? What did I do with it?!"

Her notebook was missing, that was when she realized that in her anger at Tim, she'd forgotten to grab it when she'd grabbed her bag and stormed off of the back porch back at the safehouse.

"Great, now one of them, probably Tim, will find it and know of my plans for Frank and how I feel about Tim." She covered her face with her hands, knowing that there wasn't anything she could do about it now. She was more worried about what she wrote down about Tim than anything else.

She'd written down her innermost feelings and thoughts, her confusions, everything. Laying back down, the little fox once more curling up next to her, she tried to go back to sleep.

Frank caught up with Birkshire and his team about six hours later. He pulled into the diner which was just off of interstate #2 just a little after Rocky River in west Cleveland and added his black SUV to the others.

Birkshire was sitting with a few of his agents at window side booth when he saw the big man come striding into the nearly empty truck stop. He waved him over and one of the agents, shuffled over so that Frank was sitting directly across from the supervisor. Birkshire moved his eyes from the laptop and scanned Hunter's attire. "Nice." he commented, "You're looking better, Hunter." He then spun around the laptop around so that the new RAID operative could get a view of what was on the screen.

A picture of a strangely attractive woman with the skin of a snake appeared on the screen.



"This is Selena Withers, otherwise known as Slither." Birkshire began, "She's been on a killing spree along the coast of Lake Eire and we think it's because she's amphibian and needs to be around water. Her usual method of killing her victims is suffocation by constriction, apparently she's a sadist and enjoys a slow death. The first of her victims were truckers, lonely guys looking for a quicky who didn't notice the scales until it was too late, but it seems she's upped her game. We've now linked her to the deaths of a Mother of two, and thirteen year old boy." Birkshire paused and pulled a vial out of his breast pocket and discreetly handed it to Frank, who tucked it into his jacket pocket.

"That's her blood, mixed with an anti-coagulent, chase it down with what ever you got." Birkshire explained, "Once it's in your system, I've been assured by top experts that you will develop a link with the one it came from. I don't know how long the connection will last, but I am hoping you'll be able to track this murderer down in twenty four hours."

Birkshire then paused again debating his next move. He had always been reluctant to take on a meta-human partner, but it was becoming RAID protocol. They were losing this battle, and it was becoming a necessity to employ the talents of manageable mutants to bring the odds in their favour, but to Birkshire all meta's were just ticking time bombs. He had come across cases were seeming benevolent meta-human spontaneously developed mutations that killed their families and to him it an unrealistic risk to rely on these beings. Still, he come to admire Frank's conviction, even though it was a murderous one. More importantly he was confident that he would be able to reason with and control the man and that was what he was looking for in a meta-human partner. He just had keep up with the Angelic Hunter story, to appease his reality. There was no telling what Frank would do if he rationalized that he was a meta-human.

"So are we done?" Anxiously asked Frank as he started to slide out of the booth.

"Wait." Requested Birkshire as he hit a key on the laptop bringing up the pictures of four other meta-humans.



"We recently had a prison break at one of our maximum security meta-detention centres. Intelligence tells us that they are headed for Chicago, probably to payback the benefactor of their release. We suspect who it might have been, but he definitely had help from a computer expert of extraordinary talent. Now this is a bad one, Hunter and you could help us out immensely with your gift, but first we should concentrate on Slither then you can decide on working with me full time."

Birkshire had hoped for more of a reaction from Frank, but he couldn't tell either way whether or not he was game. "Slither is extremely dangerous, Hunter so I advise you to call us as soon as you have made contact." the supervising agent continued, "She's strong for her size, able to crush men twice your size, so don't let her get a hold of you. She also has a poisonous bite, it paralyses but if enough of it enters a person's system it could kill them. Our intel on her as also advised to watch out for a ranged attack; basically she can spit the poison at a person's eyes up to seven meters away, so keep them shut if she spits at you."

Birkshire slid out of the booth with Frank and extended his hand which the new operative cautiously shook. "Good luck, Hunter, and here you might want this." The agent handed a PDA to Frank, "You can use this to communicate with us among other things. In the right hand corner you'll see a green coloured symbol. Press it and type in 'Hunter' and it will activate a tracking device allowing us to find you just about anywhere."

(Wednesday, May 20, 4:00 pm, just west of Cleveland.)

Cassius moved smoothly and casually through the forest, his gun stowed and well hidden beneath his shirt. Smoking the last of his cigarette, he neared the area Morgan had described and paused when he heard something echo. He furrowed his brow and grew still, his hand drifting towards his gun. Surely he hadn't really heard what he thought he'd heard.

Looking around, Cassius moved a little slower now, his eyes scanning the trees and the shadows that danced around him. Finally, a sound stopped him once more and his lip curled now as there was no denying it.

A man's voice shouting "F#$&!" echoed over the path Cassius walked. The voice was rasped and coming roughly from where Morgan had said the young man lay injured and unconscious. Cassius stopped, standing straight and tossing the butt of his cigarette onto the ground, crushing it with his boot. He had been open to the idea that the young man would wake up, but he hadn't expected him to have the strength to shout obscenities, even when his voice did sound sick and exhausted.

"Dude..." Cassius muttered to himself. This had definitely thrown him a little. Now, with the idea of a trap in mind, he wasn't immediately sure what to do. There were many ways for a plant to try to lure them back to him, but this was certainly an unorthodox method. Cautiously, Cassius approached the spot, sliding back towards the shadows of the trees and avoiding the broad daylight. Peering through the trees and shrubs, he caught sight of the man and raised his eyebrows in surprise. The young man still lay on the ground, showing no signs of life save for an occasional convulsion that shook his body like a kind of seizure. Cassius rubbed his scruffy chin in thought. If the man was seizing then he likely had a head injury which would kill him in time without fast treatment. Still... Cassius had seen his share of serious injuries and something about these seizures didn't seem . . . right.

"Dude?" Cassius finally called, taking a half, sideways step towards the young man, his hand raising slightly towards his gun. The young man did not reply, finally settling and going limp again on the ground. Suddenly the unconscious man shouted again, startling Cassius to the point that he nearly drew his weapon.

"SHIT!"

Furrowing his brow, Cassius scratched his head and turned slightly towards where he knew Tim was following him in the shadows. "Hey dude," he stage-whispered, keeping his eyes on the young man in front of him, "what d'you make a'this one? I'm like, totally stumped, dude. Never seen that one before..."

Tim raised his wrist and spoke into the cuff mike of the secure radio link to Cassius's radio, his voice could be heard in Cassius's earpiece .... "Cassius, do'n go near that guy......ya'all jus' give 911 a holler, give em' tha location. Ya tell em' this guys have seizures an you ain't gota clue what ta do. When ya hear tha sirans ya shut down that damned cell phone an' git the hell outta thar, head north away frum tha safe house. Afta' yur a piec away ya get rid of thar cell phone. Stomp on it with yur boot, then meet me on tha ridge over ta the north yonder. I gots harses an we kin circle round to tha stables. Then beat it back ta the safe house an' git tha hell outa Dodge." ......... Tim pulled the 30-30 caliber Winchester deer rifle from it's sheath on the saddle. Knelt down and looked through the scope setting the cross hairs on the injured man's head, he thought to himself "One false move pardner, one twitch towards Cassius and I'll splatter yur brains all ovar them thar trees." Tim cocked the saddle gun, sending one of the five, 30-30 Caliber 150 grain hollow point rounds, into the chamber and knelt as motionless as a statue, his breathing slow and controled, with his finger inside the trigger guard, hovering just ahead of the trigger.

(Wednesday, May 20, 9:00 am, along a hiking trail, north of the safe house, Northeast of Troy New York)

Morgan woke a couple of hours later, having napped for awhile. She felt better, a little more energetic. The little fox had left earlier and she was alone again.

Picking up her bag, she crawled out of the little cave and stood up, looking around her. There was still some daylight left and she shouldn't waste it. Heading out again, she again thought of Tim and the others. She didn't know how far she'd already gone, but she'd been traveling most of the day.

Spotting a flowing stream that looked clear, she got a drink, splashed the cool water onto her face and filled her canteen. Looking about, she smiled, feeling safe inside the woods, knowing that Frank tracked her but wouldn't pinpoint her in here. She didn't know that he was already way ahead of her.

She didn't think it would take her a week to make it to Chicago. If she got lucky, she might go ahead and risk the highway, maybe even flagging down a bus. She didn't know yet, figuring she would just play it by ear. The goal was to keep Frank and Raid away from the group so they could make it to Chicago safely.

Looking southwest, she knew she had a long way to go before stopping again and started off again.

Wed. May 20, 2010 4:15 p.m. EST