Title: Between II - The Long Walk 9/10

Author: ebonbird (ebonbird@hotmail.com)

Rating: PG

Summary: This is the sequel to "Between" which is

available @ http://ebonbird.tripod.com/stories.htm.

Though based upon episodes 89-104 of Gatchaman I this

story only loosely follows those events.

Contributing tunes: Time Has Come Today - The Chambers

Brothers; Pusher Man - Curtis Mayfield; Spanish Eyes - Back

Street Boys; Never Can Say Goodbye - Jackson Five; All I

Want - Angel Moon; Plenty - Sarah McLachlan; Mighty Love -

The Spinners; Gymnopedie 1, 2 and 3 - Eric Satie; Could I Be

Your Girl - Jann Arden; Ooh Child - The 5 Stairsteps; Paint It

Black - The Rolling Stones.

Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me. They

are used without permission. Tatsunuko, Co. Leave me

be, this is flattery.

Comments & Criticism: yes, please.



Thanks to BeckyD, Lori McDonald, Naa Dei-Nikoi, John

Duffin, Sal, Stephanie Wilson, Wildcat & Kim Wylie

for beta-reading and encouragement.



****************

9.



"Joji," Jun's voice, ridiculously high and soft. "Baby,

please. Joji, wake up, they're coming."



Small, ungloved hands on his face. His cheeks tingling, hot.

Heavy muggy taste on his mouth. He was lying on the floor and

the room was very cold.



"Joji, please, you don't have much time."



He whimpered, dropped his arm over his face, hitting the

linoleum-covered floor.



"Joe," two light slaps on his face, "Joji, please, get up."



He opened his eyes. Jun knelt before him. She wore her street

clothes; white jacket, #3 T-shirt and striped jeans. Her eyes were

shining, her face flushed. He sat up a little, her hands on his

shoulders steadied him.



"Juni," he reached for her face, "My head doesn't hurt?"



Nodding, Jun brushed her hair out of her face. He reached for a

stray strand and caught sight of the bulky bandage on his arm.



"It's a shunt." Jun said. "Pain killers, euphorics, stimulants. It's

supposed to help."



He pulled his legs under him, his legs light as he tried to stand.

Getting on her knees Jun slung his arm over her shoulder and

stood, just managing his length.



Pushing her hand against his side, Jun held him steady as they

made their way out of the room and down the back stairs. His

night sight was back. He'd not noticed it'd been impaired. He'd

been worse off than he'd thought.



At the bottom of the stairs, they moved apart. Joe tried not to

look as if he were propping his back against the wall. His fingers

sought out her face. Traced her eyebrows, her cheeks, her chin.



"I've been hallucinating a lot," he said.



Nodding, Jun stroked his arm. "I'm here." She sighed. "I'm right

here. We're at Dr. Holliday's."



"I followed Katse from here."



"You did."



"Holliday's a double-agent?"



Lifting her shoulder Jun said, "A pawn?"



"Huh." Joe circled her shoulders with his arm and chuckled. "Like

me."



"Don't take it that way," Jun said into his chest, her fingers

clenched on his waistband. "Please don't take it that way."



"The shunt, you letting me out of the headquarters, you meeting

me here. It's all-"



"I couldn't set you up," Jun said. She took his face between her

hands. "Let me call Ryu."



And then he woke up.



Dr. Holliday stood over him in her bathrobe and a doctor's coat,

a surgical mask dangling from her neck. His night vision had

been corrected, allowing him to make out the sympathy on Dr.

Holliday's soft-featured face.



His pain was gone and his arm bandaged. He could feel the hard

curve of the shunt in his forearm.



Dr. Holliday explained with a cooly guileless expression that a

petite tech had delivered the shunt and the drugs that went in it.

Gave him a refill and ushered him down the back stairs and out

of her office.



His wristcom burdened him with its silence. He stood in the

shadows, watching his car and the street it was on, waiting.

Shattered glass covered his car. The streetlamp above it had

been broken. He let himself fade into view, broke into a

run, dropped to the ground and rolled.



The assassins were good. He wasn't bullet proof, and he

couldn't tell from where they were coming, but he knocked one

off her feet and into another and for once was screaming as he

fought, in the zone where will, action and flow became one.



They went down faster than anticipated, folding in upon

themselves at the places of impact, saliva, sweat and blood

arcing through the air, sliding off the slick waxed car and staining

the dusty ground.



Looking down at all the bodies Joe grabbed his hair. "Fuck," he

growled. "Fuck, fuck, good for nothing piece of -"



How the hell was he going to be taken captive by Galactor if he

kept killing their agents?



Hearing rumbling from the southwest, Joe looked up in time to

see the God Phoenix pierce the sky like the needle, racing

ahead of the sound.



Joe jumped into the car to drive to the race track. Even for that

time of night it was quiet. None of the familiar night noises, and

his trailer was gone from its spot, a rectangle of flattened

withered grass where it used to be.



One last time, Joe told himself, as he drove onto the track. One

last time, and he started his engine and raced himself around the

track until Galactor came to take him away.



Explosions to the left and right of him he took as applause and

the illusion held as the green-garbed ruffians dragged him out of

the ruins of his borrowed car. He intended to let them capture

him quietly, but with their fearful expressions and hesitant

approach, he couldn't take it and before he knew it he was hitting

someone in the chin with his heel. Ramming the side of his hand

into throats. Killing his enemies with a joy so grim it was lust.







******************

end 9/10







"I hate women who say pretty=stupid.

They're really misogynistic men in drag."

~~~BeckyD



ebonbird's fan fic cache http://ebonbird.tripod.com

the storm archive http://ebonbird.tripod.com/stormarchive.html

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