After All Our Nightmares

FIC: After All Our Nightmares (2/?)

It might have surprised the others, but Xander wasn’t exactly stunned to find Fang was behind all this. “Wanna elaborate?” he challenged.

Faith tried to hush him with a glare, but he ignored the Slayer in favour of staring accusingly at Angel. The vampire stared back at him, his pained expression disappearing to be replaced by his customary impassiveness. “And lo, in the year 1998, One-Eye,” Xander’s heart dropped, One-Eye, that was people called him now, “shall split the Slayer Line and make The Chosen One, Two.” Angel glanced towards Faith. “And then in the third millennium Orisus shall be called upon to resurrect The One, bringing chaos to The Other Realms, and weakening Hell’s Seals.” Xander groaned, hadn’t they suffered enough for that screw-up? “And the Seer,” Angel sucked in an unneeded breath before continuing, “will be corrupted by a higher power. And The Chosen Two shall face The First, the bars of her prison weakened by The One’s resurrection, turning the Two into The Many, upsetting the balance.” Angel paused again, if he’d been human Xander would have sworn he was struggling for breath, but that was ridiculous. “Then the Dark Man’s,” that was how Angel was now known, “Lightness will be infected by an Old One,” Angel glanced towards Illyria then back at the book’s yellowed pages, “and he will kill the Guardian, cracking the Deeper Well, and Hell shall be Unleashed.”

A long silence followed Angel’s concluding words. “I heard a theory once from an occultist I traded with.” Everyone turned to Faith. “Dude was real knowledgeable about shit.” His girl-friend smiled crookedly. “’Course he didn’t know who I was, just figured I was some babe he could impress with his know-how. Boy knew all about the Slayer Split, Glory, the First, Jasmine, Illyria, and Drogyn’s death. Anyhow, this dude figured that Glory, the First, Jasmine, and Illyria weren’t meant to be able to cross into this dimension. And every time a being of their power entered our dimension it tore the walls a little.”

“Everything we did,” Xander shook his head in dismay, guilt twisting his insides, “it led to this.”

”Then maybe,” the determined note in Angel’s voice compelled him to look up, “we need to put things right.”

“What are you suggesting?” Kate demanded a second before he could. There was a weird vibe between the cop and the vampire like they were former rivals who were now allies but wanted more. But that was their history and he didn’t care-over-much.

“This book,” Angel flipped through the text’s pages, dark eyes scanning the words before discarding it and moving on, “was written in the twelfth century. Eight hundred years ago, yet it predicts Xander saving Buffy, Cordy being possessed, the Mass Calling, and lots of other things too.” Angel paused his reading to look around. “If a book this old can be this accurate about recent history, maybe we should see if it says anything about saving what’s left.”

“That’s thin dad,” Connor said.

“What else do we have?” Xander surprised himself by agreeing with the vampire, but hey when you’re right you’re right. “The last three years we’ve saved people again and again, but we’ve been doing it piecemeal. We haven’t made a real difference, but maybe we could.”

“What does the book say, Fang?” Faith prompted. Xander resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ‘Course Faith would follow her hero’s lead as surely as night followed day.

Angel looked down at the book, skipping through the pages until he reached the end. “Here it is.” Xander was surprised by a sudden hitch in the vampire’s voice. “On the night of the Unleashing, three shall be born. One in the Wood Of Tinsel.”

“LA,” Kate translated for the room’s retarded. So, just Deadboy

“The second in Little Havana and the third in the land of the lady regent. And the children shall all be king in name.”

“So LA, Miami, and I’m guessing Queens, New York,” Faith nodded. “But what’s that crap about kings?”

“My guess would be either their Christian or surnames means king or monarch,” Kate supplied.

Angel nodded before continuing. “And then they shall be taken to the Arc’s Core where they close the doors that should never have been opened.” Angel shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe it does,” Xander declared. He smiled when everyone looked towards him, briefly enjoying their puzzlement before continuing. “In some of the conspiracy books I’ve read there’s mention of a top-secret bunker called the Arc where the powerful and elite would retreat to in case of invasion or nuclear war. We’ve all heard the rumours of a government, maybe they’re more than a rumour.”

“Okay,” Angel looked more than a little sceptical. But for once Xander could hardly blame them. “So where is this Arc?”

Xander shot the Irish undead an irritated look. “Did you miss the part where I mentioned it was top-secret?”

The vampire matched his glower with one of his own. “Then how are we supposed to find it?”

“I’ll need a lap-top but maybe I can hack into one of the background systems,” Connor offered.

“I can’t believe you’re considering this!!!” Kate suddenly protested. The blonde cop shook her head. “Crossing the country these days with The Crusade, The Carrion, and The Believers roaming it! Not to mention New York and LA are both Undead Houses.”

Xander chuckled dryly. “Have we got anything better to do?”

“I little enjoying sulking in the shadows, it is time that the world shook before me again!”

“See,” Xander nodded. “Illyria agrees with me.”

* * *

Angel rose. “We have enough fuel to get to LA.,” he announced. “I suggest we pack everything we can find into them and leave at day-break.”

Faith looked up. “That’d be radios, weapons, energy sources, fuel, that sorta thing?”

Angel nodded. “Faith and Xander, you make a sweep of the sports utility and gun stores. I’ll take Illyria for a search for any petrol. Kate,” Angel looked towards the blonde cop, “you take Conn and Groo in a search of near-by houses.”

* * *

“I love it how Fang orders and we all jump.”

Faith shook her head. “Just quit it already,” she muttered. The hell of it was if there was anybody else leading the team, Xander would almost certainly agree with their decisions. “Ya know Fang’s got more experience than the rest of us.”

“I know,” Xander fell moodily silent.

Faith resisted the temptation to shake her head as she strode through the city’s streets. All around were the signs of Armageddon – torn-down road signs, burnt out and turned over cars, years old refuse, and overgrown plant-life. And of course the skeletons, there were plenty of them too.

Faith stopped as she reached a looming building that in better days had been one of those nameless chains of department stores. “Might be a sports department in there?”

Xander glanced at the grimly dark building, the lights of its neon sign having long since been extinguished. “Okay,” her boy-friend scowled. “I just bet its on the top floor.”

Faith snorted as she stepped through the shattered doors, its glass tinkling underfoot. “Try to find the camping department.” Faith glanced over her shoulder, confused by Xander’s comment. “Our rucksacks are getting worn out and we could always do with new.”

Faith nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed. “It’ll probably be next to the sports goods department.”

Xander nodded as he cast her torchlight apart and whistled. “When they stripped this place they really stripped it.”

Faith nodded. The shelves and counters were empty of food, drink, and every sort of produce, the only thing accumulating on the shelves and counters was dust. “We should head for the back, the stairwell will be there.”

“Been in one of these places before, Faith,” Xander replied as he sneaked along behind her. “Be careful, sometimes gangs make their homes here.”

“I ain’t ‘xactly a novice either,” Faith retorted as she stepped over a flung to the ground display stand, “Jesus,” she grunted, the store’s silence lying heavy on her, “I never thought I’d miss piped music.”

“Yeah wait-,” Xander’s torchlight swung to the left. “I thought I saw something, but there’s nothing there. Come on.”

”Here’s the door.” Faith shoved the door open, wincing slightly at the stale air.

“And here’s the sign,” Xander groaned as he examined the wall by the stairwell. “And I was right, the sports & camping department are both on the top floor.”

Faith smirked. “Better get movin’ babe.”

* * *

Faith’s heart dropped when they entered the sports department. Like the food department the sports store had been looted. Not to the extent of downstairs of course, not many people played sports these days.

Pool tables lay everywhere, uniforms of perhaps half a dozen differing sports slashed to shreds together with sneakers and bags. The fitness equipment had likewise been smashed – treadmills, rowing machines, steppers, and exercise bikes wrecked in an orgy of violence.

Faith glanced to Xander. “Check around.”

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve never done this before.”

Faith shone her torch around, sighing slightly at the carnage. Scavenging only got harder as the years went by. “Here’s a thought,” Xander commented. “Have you tried barbells?”

Faith looked over her shoulder. “Mystical warrior remember? I don’t need to train for strength just fighting.”

”That’s my point,” Xander retorted. “Don’t you think they’d be more effective than wooden staffs?”

Faith’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, you’ve got a point,” she decided. “Grab a couple of barbells. It’s worth trying.”

“Okay,” Xander huffed as he lifted them. “You’ll have to carry them all the way back.”

“Five by five,” Faith nodded. Her eyes narrowed as she noted a dartboard and a few sealed packets of darts lying against the wall. She dropped into a crouch and scooped the packets up. “Do ya figure these could make a decent weapon?”

Xander chuckled as he shone his torch towards her. “Try sticking one in your hand and then ask me. Anything in the way of guns or crossbows?”

“Saw an empty case where they’d hung the crossbows but nothing else.”

”Let’s try behind the counter,” Xander walked over to her side, his rucksack noticeably fuller than before. Xander half-smiled as he noticed her curious look. “I took twenty dumbbell handles. If I manage to find the right equipment I’ll have a go turning them into knives.”

“Nice idea,” Faith praised as she made her way to the back. Truth be told, Xand’s general skills as a handyman had come in very handy in a variety of ways since the fall. It wasn’t like ya could use yellow pages these days.

As expected the counter’s shelves were empty of anything useful.

”What about that?” Xander pointed towards the light grey safe on the bottom shelf. “There might be something in there.”

”Money ain’t worth shit these days,” she reminded as she crouched and took the safe’s steel cold handle and forced it up. Muscles writhed and sweat beaded on her forehead as the lock struggled against her Slayer strength. She gasped as the door finally swung open.

“Well done,” Xander praised as he flashed his torchlight inside. “Bingo.” Her boyfriend pulled out the safe’s top shelf, scooping up the automatic and five magazines inside. “A Colt 911A and five magazines. This definitely makes the trip worthwhile.”

”Ha!” Faith chuckled. “And I thought having some alone time with your gal would make it worthwhile.”

Xander almost smiled. “I’m not getting drawn into this one.” Her boy-friend began to straighten.

Faith gasped when her companion suddenly left his feet and flew sideways through the air, crashing to the ground ten feet away. “What the fuck!” the Slayer part of her took over even as shock ran through her. Jumping up onto the counter, she spun into a leaping kick at her assailant.

“Fuck!” Faith screamed as a hard hand grabbed her ankle and flung her into the wall. “Oh shit!” She grunted as she crashed shoulder-first into the wall.

Faith landed in a crouch. “Fuck!” her eyes widened as they fell onto her assailant. He was an easy seven foot tall with the clothes-stretching bulk to match, at least five hundred hard pounds of it. His hands were shovel-sized and although he wore a full-length leather jacket it did little to conceal his arms’ bulging thickness, bigger than most men’s legs, tree-trunk thighs, the barn-door width of his shoulders, and depth of his thick chest.

Starred tattoos adorned the sides of her attacker’s column-thick neck while his face itself was box-square, an ugly scar ran down the left side of his face, making his corpulent-lipped mouth droop slightly, another scar ran across his forehead, and another ran under his right eye. The man’s nose was splattered against his face and she’d seen more expression in stone than she saw in his grey eyes.

“You’re purty.”

Faith licked her lips at the man’s tombstone voice. “Kinda statin’ the obvious ain’t ya?” she blustered, a deep unease hollowing her belly.

“You’re mine!” Suddenly the behemoth was charging her at an uncanny speed for such a gargantuan. Faith barely managed to duck under a right cross, her hands shooting up to grab and twist the man’s wrist as she executed a judo throw.

“Jesus!” she gasped when then the fucker didn’t even budge, the pressure on his wrist seemingly having no effect. Then her head exploded when the man’s left palm crashed into it.

Dazed, she nevertheless had enough left to kick out instinctively, a thrust kick catching the giant in his prodigious belly. The man grunted but didn’t otherwise react, grabbing her around the throat. “You’re strong,” the man matter-of-factedly commented, “I like that.”

Faith gurgled as the man’s sausage-sized fingers dug into her throat. The leviathan’s power was awesome, enough to snap a normal neck in seconds.

Fortunately she was about as far from normal as you could get. Faith brought her leg up and stomped down on her assailant’s inner knee. Her eyes widened when the man appeared not to even notice her counter-attack.

Desperation gripping her and vision blurring, she swung both legs up behind her, bending them at the knee. The moment her feet touched the wall behind, she kicked off.

Her attacker stumbled backwards, grip loosening as she drove her forearm into his throat. At the same time she brought a knee up into his gut.

The gigantic man dropped her with a grunt. Faith wheezed for air as she blocked a left hook on her forearm, the blow’s concussive force running up her arm. She glided under a follow-up forearm that would have rendered her face flatter than a pancake before grabbing the freakishly strong man under his chin and flinging him into the air, the man flying through the stairwell entrance, the force of his entrance taking the doorway with him.

Faith dropped to one knee, legs buckling under her. She raised a shaking hand to her injured throat, rubbing at it before rising, snatching one of the barbells Xander had brought across and hurrying through the stairwell. “Shit.” Her tortured breath hitched and eyes widened when against all expectations her attacker was gone. “How in the hell-.”

Shaking off her shock, she hurried back to Xander and started to help him up. “What demon hit me?” Xander groaned, his eyes glassy.

“Weren’t a demon, lover.” Faith shot fearful glances into the surrounding darkness. That was the whack thing, only Buffy, the Beast, and Illyria had hit harder than that monster and yet he was completely human. Fuck it. “Let’s get outta here.”