Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ All I Have ❯ Time ( Chapter 22 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

: Time :

Andy fiddled with his phone that next day, replying quickly to a text Adam had sent and wishing he could see the man. Despite what he felt, he was having a hard time accepting the friends that came with him. Adam's team, while capable in the field, were definitely jerks when it came to everything else. He knew they were talking about him behind his back, about the things that had transpired, and he couldn't help but think that they'd be the bane behind his and Adam's somewhat relationship. Adam would automatically choose them over him, to retain his cover.

He was definitely attached at this point; but if things were impossible to work out, he was realistic enough to see that they wouldn't get far. He was trying to console himself with the fact that at least he'd had this time with Adam.

The pier overlooking the shipyards was crowded with summer tourists and beach combers. The dirty waves that crashed onto the beach were lined with surfers and swimmers in suits. It smelled of fish, salt and waste, something that was entirely acceptable for those looking for ways to relax on a hot summer's day. He wiped his forehead of sweat, and then glanced around him.

To get his mind off his thoughts over Adam, he decided to address something with Ken. Having Larson tell him that someone was tracking him down was a bothersome detail, and he knew Ken had his ways. Why the man continued to bother him even after Andy's rejection was something of a hassle, but he figured handling it right away was the better decision. He'd called the man earlier that morning, expecting him not to answer; then texted him his location and the time.

He nervously fiddled with his outfit, looking down at his flip-flops, his cargo shorts, his sleeveless muscle tee. He still had a hard, muscular body and showing it off as he was made him feel capable and male. He touched his hair and wondered if he should find a place to have it cut, then decided to relax; he'd grow it back out, maybe re-adapt his high school look. He watched a couple of people walk by, holding their heads.

A little concerned with the headache virus that seemed to be affecting people right and left, he wondered if Ken would even show. He looked at his watch again and gave a frown, shoving his hands into his pockets and scanning the pier. There was just a slight ache in his shin, and he supposed it was the choice of footwear that aggravated the area, or even the walking distance he was covering from day to day with his reluctance to stay home. He started to think that perhaps he should just go home to get some rest when he saw Ken approaching, looking wholly sullen. Andy steeled himself, unsure of how the encounter was going to turn out. Ken wasn't looking at him too much, his eyes straying everywhere but on him, and Andy was fine with that.

“Hi,” he said firmly, once Ken came to a stop a couple of feet from him. Andy studied him, finding that it was a shame that Ken had such an unpleasant personality; his physical figure was absolutely amazing, being brawny, strong and lithe. He showed it off with a shirt that he had cut himself, sleeveless and casual. The look was completed with board shorts and sturdy athletic shoes. His muscular neck and shoulders were accentuated by the shirt's collar. His blond curls were hidden underneath a cap tattooed with some motocross label.

“What's this about, Murphy?” Ken asked grumpily. His jittery nature showed with repeated thumps against his thigh with a fist, a tug at his collar. “Got more shit to talk about today?”

“No…Ken, I don't mind being friends with you, if you'd just forget about that part,” Andy then said, shifting close to be heard. Ken backed away from him, bumping into a couple of people and scowling at them when they looked at him. Andy waited for him to settle, then continued with, “but I need the tracking thing to stop.”

Ken looked at him, giving a startled frown. “What are you talking about?”

“Yesterday, I was out with some friends…and I was being tracked. Somehow. I'm not exactly clear on the details, but—”

“So you think I did it?”

“I—you're the only one that knows how to—”

“So you automatically think, that just cuz yer fag, that you think I would be doin' somethin' like that cuz you thinkin' I am?”

Andy exhaled heavily. “Ken, if it's you, just please stop.”

“Why would I be doin' that?” Ken snapped at him.

“I don't know!”

“I ain't got no reason to be doing something as retarded as that,” Ken growled.

Andy watched him for a couple of moments, then cleared his throat awkwardly, turning to look at the throng that crowded the pier. Someone had caught a stingray in the midst of their fishing, and had pulled it up so that others could look at it. He looked back at Ken. “Okay. It wasn't you. I just…wanted things to be clear in that area. That I don't…appreciate it.”

Ken looked away, squinting at the reflection of sun on water. Andy could smell his cologne, was startled at how he missed it. He thought that perhaps being away from the man would alleviate that tense, strained feeling, but the missing was there; perhaps only out of familiarity. After all, he had been hanging out with the man for nearly three years.

He felt awkward, in that he recognized his eagerness just to be close to somebody. Feeling lonely, even as he stood on a pier full of people. He just wanted someone to be standing next to him, to be their only company. Once Ken left him, he would be alone again. Adam was a phone call or a text; he wasn't physically or mentally there with him. He took a deep breath and attempted to push aside those lonely feelings.

“Yer stupid, Murphy,” Ken then said, spitting off to the side. “Thinkin' things. Bullshit things. Guy could get himself in trouble like that.”

“I understand that, but I'm not there, anymore,” Andy murmured. “I guess I don't have to be careful.”

“I can't believe all this time you faggin' it around us.”

“Not exactly. Truth be told, none of you are my type,” Andy said smartly, Ken looking at him with a frown. “I don't want to fight with you over things, Ken. I just…whatever happens, I guess it'll happen. I just thought I'd talk to you in person over this situation—”

“So you think somebody's tracking you? And you've got the nerve to think it's me?” Ken interrupted, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Like, why would I do that? Want nothin' to do wit' you.”

Andy licked his lips. “That's a lie. If I didn't matter to you at all, you wouldn't have shown. Most people don't even want to be in the proximity of…of someone like me. And yet you're here, knowing what I am. But it's stupid if you think I attack anything that's male and moves. I have some level of restraint, and some standards.”

Ken rolled his eyes at him, turning to look away. Andy waited for him to say something, even to walk away, but the other man merely studied the goings-on on the pier with nothing more than a scowl to his features. He looked at the dirty water below, wondering who it was that was tracking him as Larson had said.

“Does Paul know?” he then asked, feeling off-guard by his own question.

“Who were you hanging out with?” Ken then asked, ignoring the inquiry. Andy looked at him, debating on the answer.

“58,” he then said, keeping a neutral expression. “We watched baseball.”

With a sneering expression, Ken looked away again, to move for the railing and lean onto it with both arms. They flexed with tension, and his tattoos, something tribal and dated, flexed with them. “Your boyfriend introduced you to them?”

“I'm seeing somebody…but it's not going anywhere,” Andy said truthfully, looking out at the beach and finding various people and Aliens enjoying the surf and sand. “It's okay on his end, because I understand, but…I wish I mattered more to him.”

“You're a selfish whore, Murphy. It's always about you. You're lonely, you're this, you're that. You cain't even be happy with what you get!”

Startled, Andy looked at him, and found him with a disgusted look on his face.

“If you're so fuckin' lonely, find somebody else! There's always somebody else out there!”

“Yeah…I realize that…it just sucks not being able to have the one that I want.”

“Get over it. Nearly ninety million people in this city alone, an' you stuck on one of `em. Stupid,” Ken then muttered, looking down at the water, and as Andy stood there, he started to feel the prickles of uneasy sensation in that he didn't know who Ken was addressing. He looked at him, feeling conflict.

“Where's Paul?” he asked.

It took awhile for Ken to answer, but he straightened away from the railing to say, “Sleepin'.”

“I miss hanging out with you guys. Even if the situation turns out to be shitty,” Andy confessed.

“Make some damn friends. Cuz it ain't gonna happen no mo',” Ken muttered, moving to walk away. Andy watched him go, feeling heavy about it, and then turned to look over the railing. He didn't see Ken turn to look at him, as if he were going to say something else, then turn away to stomp off.

“Yesterday was something I'd rather not repeat,” Andy said that afternoon, folding his pizza slice in half lengthwise. “They made it very clear that I'm not welcome around them.”

“I understand that,” Adam said testily, frowning at his plate. He'd had all night and most of the day to think this over, finding it depressing that Andy would show signs of decreasing strength in being with him. And for all the right reasons; Ian and the others had been incredibly rude and obvious with their views. He was conflicted himself. “Which is why I wouldn't suggest another outing.”

“I'd do what I could to be with you, Adam, but sometimes it gets to a point where I think that…that perhaps it's not worth it,” Andy said slowly, looking at his pizza. “What's the point of having something like this when we can't even—?”

“Man, all you do is bitch, bitch, bitch,” Adam muttered, disgusted with how the lunch was turning out. He had been looking forward to seeing Andy all day, but this conversation was rapidly turning into something he didn't want to discuss.

Andy looked back down at his pizza. He fiddled with it for a few moments, wishing he had something stronger than soda to drink. He had come to realize that Adam's snappish comments were merely weight given to his own heavy thoughts and feelings. It was part of his personality, and Andy had seen that before everything had happened. He didn't take it personally anymore.

“Right. But…will you come over to my house, after? Maybe we could just—hang out, or…something…”

Adam knew what that meant. He wanted that physical aspect of their somewhat relationship. His attraction to Andy drove him nuts. But his jaw clenched and his balls ached as he thought about it, and his already made plans. “I can't. I already told my parents I'd meet them later.”

“Oh. Maybe I can come—”

“John will be there. I would rather you not.”

Andy exhaled steadily. He moved to take a bite of his pizza, but lost the will. He set it down and watched Adam take a couple of bites, feeling absolutely torn. Sitting there across from him he felt the tinges of loneliness. The man was physically only an arm's reach away, but he seemed much further than that. He thought of Ken's words, of Adam's, of being happy with what he had. And they were true; he certainly had a lot more than what he did weeks ago. He looked around them for something distracting, to remind himself that at least he had Adam's company.

He then looked back at him and wondered if this was how Adam felt being around Ian. The thought was truly torturing, but as he thought about it, he realized how similar the situation felt. It disgusted him how it seemed Adam had manipulated the situation so that he was right back where he'd started. He furrowed his eyebrows and stared at the man, wondering if this was Adam's only way of having a relationship with somebody. He'd virtually turned Andy into someone he couldn't touch.

He wondered if Adam was even conscious of it. He picked up his pizza, feeling a bit challenged in approaching the subject.

His phone signaled an incoming text, so he took a couple of bites before picking it up, examining Paul's question in whether or not he was still with Ken, because he hadn't seen him all day. Feeling his stomach turn at having the subject come up, he locked the keypad and shoved it into his pocket, to stew over later.

“What will you do today?” Adam then asked, Andy feeling startled at being addressed. He looked repentant, so perhaps he felt bad for their earlier exchange. Looking at him, taking in his individual features, Andy felt a strong sense of longing. He found the other man very appealing, and he wanted the chance to express it aloud without having Adam scold him for it.

He then thought about the question. “Uh, well…I don't know. No plans. Maybe just…look for a hobby, or something. Having so much free time is really frustrating.”

“Game consoles are distracting.”

“I'm not much of a gamer. I like sports, so maybe I'll see about joining a league or something.”

“You play sports?” Adam asked, signaling for a refill of his drink.

“Back in high school I was consistent with it. Volleyball, track and field…and whatever else here and there.”

“Volleyball's ga—uh, never mind.”

“It was fun. How about you?”

“Whatever. I was either too tall or too bored. Basketball for a short while. What were you like in high school?”

“Uh…well…quiet? Stuck with a bad crowd…I was rebelling against my mom and her latest string of men, so…I guess that was how I got into drinking.”

“Were you a stoner?”

“To be honest I dallied. Every teen does…I suppose. I snuck out, came out late, sometimes not at all…I think being in DJ really helped me out.”

“Can't imagine you being a delinquent,” Adam said, looking at him from across the table, bemused at the thought.

“I'm sure Jensen has many stories to tell.”

“I haven't asked him anything. He hasn't said anything.”

“What were you like in high school?”

“All I remember was hormones and rules. More rules than anything I could remember. But I followed them like I was supposed to and…things worked out.”

“Hormones sucked back then.”

“Bet you were never lonely.”

Because it felt as if it were said snidely, Andy felt uncomfortable with even responding to the comment. He looked down at his pizza and concentrated on taking a few bites. But he felt as if he'd lost his appetite, and the feeling was uncomfortable.

“What is your family like?” he asked.

Adam shrugged, wondering why the sudden awkwardness. He was trying to picture Andy back in high school, and finding it bothersome that he really wanted to look into his past just to see for himself what he was like.

“I don't know. Dad's dad and mom's mom. To be honest I haven't lived at home since I was in grade school. Came home during the summers, but—there's nothing truly memorable. They do normal things, live a normal life.”

“Never went to public school?”

“No.”

Andy indicated for him to take his half-eaten pizza, and Adam did with relish. His phone vibrated again, and he slipped it out of his pocket to see another text from Paul, demanding that he answer him.

“Who's that? Sam?” Adam asked, noticing.

“Uh…no. It…it's my mom. Just…being mom, I guess, being nosey,” Andy lied, and Adam frowned as he read that lie within his expression.

“So Larson checked in on the tracking, last night,” Adam then said. “If it wasn't Ken—”

“I wish you wouldn't talk about him,” Andy said, looking at him. “Like it's something I can control. And, no, it wasn't him. I'd already asked.”

“So you act like you don't like the man, yet here you are, talking to him. Like, casually.”

“Am I being punished for it?”

“No,” Adam muttered, frowning. “I just…think he gives you too much attention.”

“And that's wrong? Maybe I don't mind talking to him.”

“`Talking',” Adam muttered, feeling frustrated with his own continuance in the topic.

“Then who was it?” Andy asked slowly, struggling to ignore his rising annoyance.

“Couldn't trace it. Ian thinks you're still being monitored. By whom and what for, we don't know. He dropped in the request for your safety to continue by a protection protocol.”

“Hmm,” Andy said, feeling revolted over Ian thinking what seemed best for him. “Adam, are you happy being with me?”

Adam looked startled at the question, wiping his mouth with his napkin and stacking their plates atop of one another. “Yeah.”

“You don't act like it,” Andy said, looking at him.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“I think that…I mean, don't you come away from our…our meetings tense and stressed—?”

“`Meetings'? You think these are meetings?”

“I just think that…maybe…you should think about…well, it's almost as if you're back in the same position as you were before. Like…like before me,” Andy said slowly. “I feel like you've just made me into someone you can't touch. Like, literally. I'm a repeat of your last involvement, or however you'd want to call it.”

Adam stared at him for a few moments, and then looked around them. The outside eatery was pleasantly busy, despite New Park's summer heat. Traffic noises echoed all around them, and sky high buildings shaded them only slightly from the bright sun.

“That's some observation,” he said in response. “I've gotta go.”

“We're friends, right?” Andy then asked, looking at his nails.

Adam stared at him again, waiting for him to look up, but Andy looked as if he were going to avoid looking at him. He looked down at the table and tried to fit the word into their situation. Around him he could hear the various conversations of people moving throughout the area. There were a group of guys laughing and talking at a booth nearby, and he felt something turn cold in the pit of his stomach.

“Then, I think as friends, we could just…maybe…slow things down. Until you're decided,” Andy continued quietly.

“I decided a while ago where things were going to go. I am decided, that's why I'm here.”

“Then you're deluded. We hang out as friends. We spend most of our time snapping and covering for it with some sort of apology. Like I said before, we don't touch or—or even flirt. You don't…you're so paranoid to be caught you just can't relax. You keep me at arm's length. I just don't understand how you can consider this okay. I said I'd work with you over things, but you don't even try to meet me in the middle. It's always your way. I go along with it because I want to spend time with you, but I definitely don't come away from our meetings like this feeling good about things.”

Adam frowned, realizing that his words were true. And he'd definitely think later on about his earlier observation over returning to a familiar relationship, but he didn't want to think about it, now.

“I liked the Adam I met over a month ago.”

He looked down at his wadded napkin, and then tossed that onto the plate. He rose from his chair. “I'll call you later.”

“Part of having a relationship is the give and take in a conversation. You're not going to say anything in response?”

“No. Not now.” And with that Adam walked away, feeling entirely bewildered in that perhaps he was in the same place he had been with Ian—realizing it was something disappointing. Almost as if he'd failed, repeating something unpleasant.

He had to wonder if pulling away from Ian did that to him; even if he wanted to, could he?

“South Side's activity factor has been high,” Ian said, frowning as he pulled absently at his helmet strap, trying to find a more comfortable position around his chin. “Dost claims that nothing's going on, but they've noticed something amiss and are trying to do something about it without raising alarm to it. Merrick's definitely jumpy. He doesn't know what to expect, if he should expect anything at all. With Dorsal still out on the lam, Intelligence still doesn't know what it was he'd purchased.”

“Did anybody look into the headache thing going on at the ball field?” Sam asked, furrowing his brow.

“You know what, Sam? The medical team that was sent out there failed to apprehend any of those people afflicted,” Ian said, almost startled at the words he spoke. “It's like they disappeared. I checked into the missing persons data for the city and found nothing unusual about those missing. It's an odd situation. I reviewed the security tapes from the stadium, and saw that people left as normal as could be.”

“So you're saying that any individual with a headache escaped notice by our people?” Jensen asked, flicking at his vest and trying to situate it about himself so that he was more comfortable with his gear.

“Yup. But the most unusual thing about the security tapes?” Ian looked over at Adam, whose mind was wandering over the situation with Andy, not really paying attention to the group meeting that was taking place within a port just off the tarmac on base. “Is that every one of these individuals started showing symptoms around Andy. Have you noticed anything different about him, Adam?”

At the sound of his name, Adam looked over. He saw their expectant faces and felt annoyed in that he hadn't been listening. “Uh, no…? Like…what?”

“You haven't gotten any headaches or anything, felt anything unusual when you're with him?” Ian asked him.

“No.”

“I personally think that whatever's going on in this situation, he's still involved. Whomever was trying to track him down that day—Adam, you were hanging out with him. Didn't you notice any unusual phone calls today?”

He did recall Andy hiding away his text messages, but nothing similar to that day at the stadium. He told Ian that piece of information with a shrug.

“He hasn't said anything about them,” Sam supplied. “When I asked, he said `no'. He hadn't gotten anything else like that since that day.”

“They could still use the number to lock in on him. If it's South Side only, they would've made a move by now. Then I'm sure he would have said something about being visited, because those kids from the East Side know where he's at,” Larson said, adjusting his comm-pack.

“He's still registered under the alias DJ has provided with that place,” Sam assured them. “When he applied for jobs, all that he supplied was a phone number. That's how he's been bothered by the phone calls.”

“When you apply for jobs, don't you have to supply social security numbers, home addresses and all that personal information?” Bridgette asked, furrowing her brow.

“When he did the first app, he was told that his social security number was currently under a block, meaning he didn't exist. So then he checked up about that with the base and was told that because of some admin slip-up, he couldn't reveal personal information until it was need-to-know. So then from there he started using the alias that he's been under. It'll clear up once the people that hire him check with the people from base.”

“Complicated.”

“Admin slip-up, huh?” Ian snorted. “It means they know something's up, and hadn't bothered to tell him. It's like they're using him to keep up the activity, probably to see who comes knocking.”

“Good ole military.”

Sam frowned. “It sounds so annoying. I mean, it's all for a good cause, but…it sounds like a hassle.”

“And he's still unknown under Internet investigations,” Larson said. “I've been checking up on that. They're not releasing any sort of updated information on him until they were completely sure this situation was blown over. So he's still in hiding.”

Adam studied the port, of base workers that managed the field and the port area where military air vehicles were stored and used. He could see the wide tarmac as being in use by arriving and departing vehicles, with brightly colored field staff moving to and fro with some set activity. Within their port, various soldiers from other squadrons gathered about, a squad nearby hollering aloud to each other and breaking into some sort of song, while another pushed their way through with cranky stares and irritated words.

Without being cleared and directed to a waiting ABAV, their squad had nothing more to do than to stand around, out of the main hallway, and talk. And while he was concerned over the situation Ian was bringing notice to, he couldn't help but stew over this afternoon's encounter with Andy. Andy was right; Adam had maneuvered him into a place he'd been in similarly with Ian, and the notion was disappointing. He hadn't wanted that; he had wanted something different, but he appreciated the man for saying it and bringing it to his notice. Because he definitely wouldn't have noticed.

He noticed a heavyset soldier catching sight of them and moving their way. With helmet and communication pack in place, Adam couldn't identify him until he came up close, revealing his face as Kurt. He was slightly annoyed in that he couldn't tell who was female or male until he saw their faces.

“Peters, Edwards, what's up?” she asked dully, breaking into their barrier to be noticed. “So, we're heading out to the field at the same time, eh? I think it's weird that this situation with Murphy's still happening. You're the annoying know-it-all, Peters, what's going on with him on your end?”

“What situation?” Ian asked, Adam lifting an eyebrow as he knew Ian knew full well what Kurt was talking about, but was subtly maneuvering for something different in a fresh source. The others shifted away so that Kurt had space to speak, her heavier set frame nearly pushing Jensen to the side.

“Well, Powers 2 was digging around for shit in some of our little clam beds? He didn't say what or whatever, but he heard that Dorsal's looking for Murphy. Dorsal's here on Earth, and not out there as Intelligence thought,” Kurt said, looking bored about it.

“Ken? Ken's investigating?” Ian repeated dubiously. “How's he doing that?”

“He has his ways. So Paul goes and reports it, but since Ken doesn't have factual evidence that Dorsal's here, Intelligence can't quite go for it. I'm relaying this info to you cuz they've been bitching around about how he's been hanging out with the jolly giant here,” Kurt then finished, jamming a thumb at Adam.

“Why would Dorsal be looking for Murphy?”

“Don't know. But Paul thought that maybe it wasn't just a receipt that thing left in Murphy's head.” Kurt shrugged.

Bridgette grimaced. “Shit, we have to give those guys a lot more credit than we thought.”

Ian looked startled. “I'm…surprised. I mean…that's pretty good.”

“They can be brainless idiots, Peters, but there's a reason why they're still employed,” Kurt said, looking annoyed that she was sticking up for them. “If you wanna get a hold of Ken, call me. He's actually out there, following up on something he got yesterday. Left sometime this morning. I guess Murphy told him someone's been tracking him via cellphone, so he's following on that. I don't know what or how, because Paul's been trying to get a hold of him.”

“How romantic,” Adam muttered, unexpectedly jealous over Ken's efforts.

Ian snorted, glancing at him, and then performing a double take at the expression on his face. He then turned back to Kurt. “Where was his last location? You can still track him down via location.”

“He's under radio silence. Ever since he left this morning.”

“Fuck. How was he approved for this? If he doesn't have viable evidence to show for this maneuver?” Ian asked.

“Because a couple of days ago, Ken came across a homeless guy that he and Murphy actually ran into that night we found the Greys? I guess he walked in on him and Murphy after the thing made the dispatch with the receipt, Ken recognized him, and did a little drilling over what he knew. Turns out that guy was working with those Greys. After being questioned in Center, he confessed to bringing the Greys out to Earth, working with them, and knowing that whatever was given to Murphy, it wasn't just the receipt. Dorsal had purchased from them, and they were his live transports. But that's where his information stops. I guess the night of the station, Wintour discovered that he was trying to kill Murphy to prevent us from learning of the situation, but he didn't succeed. She thought, during the first discovery, that he'd merely been one of the Underworld's undercover workers.”

Ian blinked. “Why isn't this information in Intelligence's records?”

“Because the investigation is still open and under lockdown. And if Dorsal's still out there, they're definitely not releasing to anybody. I'm just telling you what Ken knows, what he told us. Whatever else Intelligence found out, they're not telling anybody else. I wouldn't be surprised if they sent somebody out there to watch over Murphy just in case something else happened. If he's still carrying something around with him—”

“The headaches!” Sam spoke up in surprise. “Those headaches!”

“He needs to come back in,” Ian said, turning to look at Adam. “Call him and tell him to come to base.”

“I don't have a cellphone, numb nuts.”

“Here, use mine.”

“Why do you have yours? Cooney'll bitch you out for that.”

“It's off! I keep it turned off at all times, it's just…I forgot I packed it.”

“You `forgot'?”

“What headaches?” Kurt asked, lifting her voice to be heard.

“If he's affecting people, don't you think he'd need a proper transport to prevent the spread?” Adam asked.

Ian gave him a concerned look. “Are you infected in anyway? You've been hanging out with him a lot.”

“NO.”

“Are you sure? I saw you popping pills the other night.”

“Tension headache from all your bullshit.”

“Completely understandable,” Sam muttered, Ian frowning at him, Jensen snickering.

“Don't give it to me,” Kurt said, moving away. “I let you know what's up. Do with it what you will.”

“Thanks!” Ian hollered after her, then turned and looked at Larson. “Call Murphy and tell him to stay at home.”

“Right,” Larson said, dialing up a number from his arm band.

“I'm going to relay this information back to Center, tell them our end, and see what other information they'll give to me. Jensen, tell Cooney that our plans have been changed tonight!” Ian said, hurrying off, Jensen saluting with a touch of sarcasm to the motion.

Meanwhile, Adam stood in silence, secretly relieved he hadn't displayed any sort of telltale behavior around Andy while they were out in public. He wasn't sure what to thank; his paranoia in being discovered or that perhaps he'd sensed the snoopy behavior, long trained to detect such efforts thanks to Ian's snoopiness.

Andy frowned at the number that displayed on his cellphone, recognizing it as a private number that had been used by Adam's team in taunting him with various texts. He didn't feel like speaking to those people, Ignoring the call and slipping it back into his pocket. He then reviewed the options before him, standing within the center of the west side's athletic community center and searching for any available league and sport that he was interested in joining. He was trying to keep weight off his aching leg, completely regretting wearing flip-flops today, standing heavily on one leg and holding the other on the heel to alleviate the positioning.

Afterward, considering the hour, he was going to busy himself with something else to do. Maybe catch a movie or find a friendly bar. Something to pass the time until Adam was off-duty. He was expecting a talk with Adam later on.

His cell buzzed with a voice message and a text, so he frowned as he withdrew his phone out. He wondered how Edwards had the tech to communicate with him via military opportunity; all of his activity was recorded and documented by the clerks that checked in his equipment, and civilian communication was strictly prohibited. But he figured the t.o. knew his way around such things, picturing their house full of techno projects. He didn't feel like communicating or answering to their harassment, and Dismissed both voicemail and text without checking it.

As he was doing so, his caller ID lit up with another call, and he answered it automatically. Hearing static on the other end, he shook his head and hung up, giving a sigh. While it struck him as annoying, something niggled at him; he didn't feel comfortable with the situation, and turned to leave the center.

His phone lit up again, and he recognized the private ID number as being the same caller as previous. He felt discomforted, and turned off his phone. Feeling naked and lost without it, he shoved it into his pocket and began walking toward the Fast Trac station.

Twenty minutes later, he turned his phone on again. There were five messages left, and ten missed calls. One of which were from a payphone, and he scrolled through the menu to check the message from the payphone. He grew anxious as he heard Ken curse at him for not picking up the phone, and that he'd better call the number back within ten minutes. Noting the time, Andy winced. Before he could take the option to call the number back automatically, his screen lit up again with a private line.

He Dismissed it again and called the payphone, feeling his stomach roil. As the train came to a stop, he felt the notion in not getting off. He watched other passengers leave, and started to count the rings on the other end. Just as he figured he was too late, Ken answered with his last name, slightly breathless.

“What is wrong with you?” Andy asked in reply, watching as other passengers climbed on.

“Where are you at? You ain't at home, are you?”

“No. Though I was heading there.”

He could hear city noises on the other end, and looked at his watch. Wondering why Ken would call him while out on duty made him annoyed. Especially as to the nature of the call, considering their meeting earlier that day.

“Well, don't. Just…just meet me. Here. At this address.” As Ken rattled off the street names, something Andy immediately picturing as a residential area popular with strip malls and one of the largest police stations in the west side, he scrunched his forehead.

“Why?” he asked, bewildered.

“Just do it!”

With that, Ken hung up on him, and Andy frowned at his phone. His screen lit up again, and he immediately Dismissed the call. Looking at the nearby Fast Trac map, he noted that there were three more stops before he could reach that section of the city, and figured since he had nothing else to do, he'd amuse the man by showing up.

Nearly forty-five minutes later, he was in the area, growing steadily annoyed with the activity on his phone. He noted that twenty-seven text messages had been left by Larson's address, and thirty voice mails had been left by various payphone and Private ID numbers. While growing suspicious and worried, he just didn't feel like hearing shit spoken by Adam's team, knowing that it had something to do with the other night's outing.

Seeing Ken lingering around the payphone in full uniform, with no sign of his team anywhere, Andy faltered in step. He wasn't sure what the man wanted, but after years of working with the man, he recognized the other's agitation with his movement. The moment Ken looked up to see him, Andy steeled himself for whatever encounter was going to happen.

Ken marched over, saying, “You gettin' anymore weird calls? Shit like that?”

“Hello, nice to see you, too,” Andy said in irritated response.

“Murphy—!” Ken then cut himself off, Andy recognizing that he had just avoided being snapped at in usual Powers style. Instead, Ken swept a gloved hand across them, as if chopping the halted lecture in half. “Just lissen. You need to come to base. There's a situation goin' on, you need to just—where you been all this time?”

“Why? I've been around.”

Ken grimaced. He reached out and slapped his arm. “Why couldn't you just stay home? Ain'tcha got that damn leg injury to take care of?”

“I hate staying at home. It gets boring there.”

Ken touched his earpiece, asking for a release of radio silence, suddenly scanning the area. Andy scrunched his brow, feeling suspicion take hold of him as he wondered why the man was running off the radar from base. To do so meant that anyone looking for tech emission would completely miss or scan over the lack of working signals from all of his required equipment.

“Let's go. Too many people here,” Ken muttered, gesturing at him to walk. Andy stayed put, frowning at him.

“What's going on?”

“Situation short, you being looked after by somebody that ain't the Underworld. Dorsal's been causing all this trouble, and that's who's been tracking you,” Ken said, pushing at him.

“Why?”

“Because that thing didn't give you just a receipt. We been thinking that it implanted somethin' like an activator on you. To activate the virus he bought,” Ken explained.

Andy immediately thought of the people coming down with headaches all around him. He started to feel horrified and guilty that he could be the cause of their distress, frantically wondering what the virus was fully capable of.

Ken reached out, to grab his chin and force him to look at him. Steadily, he said, “It ain't yer fault. That kid missed it, the Major missed it. Only that guy knew what the fuck, an' he sure ain't talkin'. Don't be blaming yourself.”

Finding those words to be realistic, Andy nodded numbly, but he still couldn't help but feel guilty over it.

Ken released him, saying, “We don't even know what it's capable of, or what it does. Just that, so far, it causes headaches.”

As he called for Kurt's attention, Andy thought over what had been happening around him, thinking of all the people he'd affected just by being near them. But he wondered why it was only a few people out of a crowd; shouldn't he have affected more? And why not Ken and the others? He looked at the other, feeling lost and confused.

He then grew annoyed at the vibration of his phone, and he reached into his pocket to turn the thing off, Ken snatching it from him the moment he did.

“Jesus, Murphy, what the hell's up with all this activity?” he then exclaimed, scrolling through all the Ignored and Dismissed calls and texts.

“I think that it's both Adam's team being shitty, and whoever it is trying to track me. I've been ignoring all of it,” Andy said wearily. “Somehow Edwards bypasses protocol just to harass me.”

He then looked insulted as Ken answered an incoming call, repeating a greeting several times and looking puzzled. “That's the weird phone calls, where Edwards said somebody was tracking me.”

Ken immediately hung up, and looked at his phone for a long while. Andy crouched to rub at his shin, feeling uncomfortable with the aching sensation there. Then he watched as Ken answered another call, and launched into a snarling hail addressed to somebody that actually responded back.

Ken then kicked Andy lightly with the bottom of his boot, snapping, “You idiot! They're trying to tell you to stay put! They're sending out a transport to come get you!”

Surprised and bewildered, Andy asked, “Why?”

Hanging up with the reassurance that Ken was now in position to aid with the command, Ken then crushed the device within both hands, Andy reacting with a furious shout. He then hurled the broken phone far from them, Andy watching it land somewhere within a pay-by-night parking area.

“Situation so far, dummy, Dorsal's been the one tracking you with those friggin' phone calls,” Ken said, gesturing at him to start walking with him, responding to a question Kurt must've sent over their communication link. “We're heading for a pick-up, Kurt. I've got my locator on. I'm lookin' for a place where there ain't too many people. `Ch. No, I ain't goin' underground, fuck that. There's a park behind the police station that looks empty. I'll signal from here.”

Andy blinked once he realized Ken's previous explanation, keeping in step with him as they headed across the street, avoiding moving vehicles to do so. The park was wide-spread and empty, closely scrutinized by those in the police station nearby. Lit and inviting, he supposed it was something of a marvel for the kids and parents that must frequent it. Ken stepped over the decorative railing meant to keep small children in, and Andy followed suit carefully, wincing at the feel of weight applied to his leg.

“Anyway, Murphy, you remember that night, right? `Member the guy that walked in right after ward?”

Andy nodded, remembering the homeless man Ken had to chase out of the area. “Yeah.”

“He was working with those things as their transporter. He knew what was given to you in a limited degree. I found him while on patrol the other day, an' he gave up everything to Wintour on what he knows. It ain't much—just that what you're carryin' is an activator. Basically, you walk by certain people and the virus starts affecting them,” Ken explained, signaling that the open space they were in was enough for an ABAV to drop in. “But we don't know what sort of virus it is, what it does. So far, it's causing headaches, right?”

“Right.”

“We don't know why certain people are affected, or what will happen after the headache stage. Since we don't have a hold on those people, or even know how to locate them since that Peters guy fucked up at the stadium, it's…at a fuckin' loss.” Ken held up his hands in exasperation. Andy absorbed what was being said, furrowing his brow.

“Then, after that, why didn't you come get me, once you knew of the activator?”

Ken frowned, glancing around them. He asked for a private convo, hearing Kurt's annoyed reply in that she wasn't going to allow it past a minute due to the situation. “Basically, Murphy, Intelligence was using you to draw Dorsal out. Like bait. Y'know?”

Andy scowled. “That's fucked up.”

“That's how it is. But since this situation happened, they can't risk it any further. So yer comin' back to base so they could do a few tests, find out what's goin' on.”

Andy fumed quietly for a few moments, angry at the thought of being the one hurting people in some unimaginable way, of having an important thing missed by some of the most experienced head-divers in the city. He was angry for being in the dark over something important, and secretly relieved that he and Adam hadn't engaged into something physically amorous. But he had to wonder if Adam knew about all that and couldn't tell him, something that made him angry. The startling notion in perhaps Adam was just using him so that Intelligence could continue monitoring him flit through those thoughts.

Ken suddenly withdrew his SMGs, and Andy reacted with a start, seeing that a SUV-type vehicle had just come to a screeching halt outside the park's sidewalk. Another pulled to the curb near the police station, and another was seen rushing through a red light on the other side of the park. Scanning the skies for the ABAV, he gave a tremendous sigh.

“This is bullshit. I'm moving away from the city,” he complained, slipping out of his flip-flops. “And again without fucking shoes!”

“They ain't members of the Underworld,” Ken said, but Andy wasn't sure if he were speaking to him or to Kurt. “Just bunches of guys with guns. And Dogs. Shit, Murphy, get moving that way. Quit bitching about your shoes, cuz you chose that shit this morning, knowin' it weren't gonna do you some good.”

Andy watched in some horror as the back of the SUVs opened, and pairs of dog-like creatures slithered out. Their long, lean bodies were spotted with markings, fur bristling once they caught sight and scent of the pair of them. Once it had, their ribcages seemed to shift and jut until it was considerably larger than before, as if there was something of a blowfish hidden within, activated by some internal alarm. Standing nearly nine feet tall upon their back feet, their humanoid appearance was limited to the movement. Their forearms were long and thin, spines covered with longer reach of hair. Tails snapped with movement, and their faces, resembling pugs' with small red eyes and a shark's mouth of numerous rows of teeth, shot their way. Both were unrecognizeable in gender, Alien bodies built to hid such information.

While used to track, their Alien bodies were basic mules; Andy couldn't count how many times they'd come upon the creatures and found them to be encasing drugs, smuggling humans and weapons within their rib-cage areas.

One of them gave a bone-chilling howl and dropped to all fours, the other looking at those that shouted orders to each other. From their positioning, he could hear them tell each other to stay away from him until the Dogs were able to get in close, to prevent being infected. With some dismay, he realized that he himself was going to be transported in one of those creatures' bodies once they caught up to him. The thought was revolting.

Andy looked at Ken, then turned to move in the direction that he'd been ordered to. Ken searched the sky for the ABAV, gave a curse, and hurried after him, keeping a harried eye on the Dogs as they were sent forward.

The creatures ate up the distance with no real trouble, and he whirled around, safety flicked off, as one of the Dogs pounced. With impressive speed and smooth agility, Ken dropped into a roll to avoid the swipe of claws, was back on his feet and firing both SMGs up the creature's back before it could even touch the grass. Bullets impacted with a dull thudding noise, the Dog screeching in pain as it hit the grass in a heavy thump before reacting with a quick curl of its body, shifting up and away. Ken continued firing at it, moving in a semi-circle and then focusing his attention on the other creature that immediately reared away from Andy at the sound of the other Dog's pained screamed.

He shifted underneath the Dog's leap, ducking extended claws and snapping teeth, then using his elbow and assisted strength to drive the joint deep into the creature's lower back area, causing it to stumble once it turned. He drew up his SMGs and fired again, sending both creatures running in different directions to avoid being hit again. He saw that Andy was moving steadily for the other end of the park, and he snickered, moving after him, keeping an eye on the Dogs that were examining each other's injuries and determining their ability to move on.

Hearing the shouts from those in the SUVs, Ken glanced their way to see them frantically pointing after Andy, the Dogs' answering yips and barks relaying their assurance in the matter. The men weren't going to risk their own infection, Ken realized, putting distance between himself and the Dogs. He wondered if that meant they were easily susceptible, or if it were just a precaution.

At the howl of more Dogs, he jerked around to see that the last SUV was releasing another pair, both of them anxious to join in the fray. He touched his earpiece, saying, “We've got heavy resistance. Dogs. Moving north on W234 and South Armada.”

“Head straight for W234; I've sent another unit to assist,” Kurt relayed. “593. ETA 2 minutes.”

“Still need a pick-up!”

“I'm rerouting them to a clear location down the road. It's a heavy residential area over there, Powers. We want to keep him from infecting anymore people. Keep him to the streets, away from people!”

“Yeah, that's helpful!” Ken muttered.

“Hey, bro, you sound out of breath. Can't hack it? A bit too slow handlin' them gentle little creatures?” Paul asked, his tone heavily amused.

“Shut up asshole, I don't see you doin' anything to help the situation!”

“Ha ha, yer slow, boy! Just admit it! I could outrun those suckers easily!”

“Shut up both of you! Christ! Powers, where's Murphy? Outfit him with one of your little toys just in case something happens,” Kurt interrupted.

Ken reached out to catch Andy's arm, pulling him to a stop, then motioning him in the direction to take. In that same instant he looked over to judge the distance between them and the Dogs and finding them closing in. He lifted both guns and fired again, quite aware that the double explosions were sending various people into alarm. Seeing around them that they were taking cover in buildings, cars and whatever else would protect them from possible stray bullets, he started walking backward.

Noticing that he was low in ammo, he lifted the left and sprayed the streets with short bursts to keep the Dogs from advancing, to drop the worn clip of his right held gun—around his belt were easily accessible arsenal, where he only had to position his weapon over one, jam it in, then withdraw completely, using his knee to snap it properly in place. Once that was fresh in place, a flick of the finger over the screen pad told the weapon to lock and load. Once he saw the pad flash red, he used the freshly reloaded submachine gun on keeping the Dogs at bay and quickly repeated the action with the other. It took only moments to do so.

The Dogs separated, running around his area of reach, diving over cars. Glancing behind him, Ken saw that Andy was close to him, looking frustrated. The men were following in their cars, and he saw that one of them was gunning towards them, causing the Dogs to scatter. Ken turned and used his shoulder to force Andy onto the sidewalk, looking for a place to find cover. Seeing the houses lining the street on both sides, at the crowded restaurants with surprised customers looking at the action in alarm, he gave a curse.

“Are you still fuckin' up?!” Paul asked, hearing the curse over the link. He sounded out of breath, an indication that they were running towards their location.

“Shut up, fuck head!”

“You ain't gonna hack it, idiot! Wait til I get there!”

Too distracted to throw an irritated reply, Ken turned and shoved Andy through an alley, narrowly avoiding the SUV's grilled front end. The vehicle's tires screeched as the driver fought to regain control, slicing over the sidewalk and veering back onto the street. One of the Dogs used that distraction to leap at him, and he cursed again as its heavy weight sent him down onto his back, but he lifted both guns with the fall and fired into the exposed underbelly, at the same time rolling onto his stomach and pushing back onto his feet in a fluid motion. The creature screeched and veered away in a damaged manner, spraying blood onto the sidewalk with its panicked movement.

Another leapt at him from the side, rotting breath touching him, rows of teeth missing him by inches as he made a harried shift to avoid impact. Ken kicked out and caught the creature's thigh with a heavy side-kick, causing it to stumble. He reached forward and shoved it completely off its feet, firing repeatedly at it as it rolled in clumsy action. Not checking to make sure it was dead, he looked back and found another Dog leaping to take him down; he ducked, having to throw himself to the ground as the angle demanded it to avoid any impact, seeing in that instant Andy leaping upward for a fire-escape ladder, climbing up and onto it without any trouble. Satisfied that he was okay for the now, Ken rolled onto his back and fired at the Dog that had just reared around to attack again. It scurried backward, nosing the air frantically.

Ken reloaded both weapons as he rose from the ground, heading for the same fire escape that Andy had used. He shoved both guns into their thigh holsters, caught the ladder and scurried upward as the Dogs regrouped. He saw that he had dropped one, as it still lay on the sidewalk, abandoned by the others. The men in the SUVs were no where to be seen.

“Moving up,” he then relayed to Kurt, giving the name of the building as he saw that Andy was heading for the rooftop, a couple of rows ahead of him.

“Hah, loser! I see ya'll! Save some for me!” Paul then demanded, Ken looking around with bewildered action.

But he was distracted by the shouts of the incoming squad that the Dogs reacted to with a startled relay of sound, seeing 593 move in from both the back of the alley and the front, surrounding them with practiced precision. He watched as they managed to rope the Dogs into a snarling group, feeling as if he could relax. He looked back at Andy, who was rubbing at his shin, trying to catch his breath.

He walked over and nudged him with a boot, saying, “You out of shape already, fat-ass?”

Giving him a sour look, Andy straightened. “Don't be an asshole.”

“We're in the clear,” Ken said, eyeing the air polluted skies, trying to pick out their ABAV. “So far. We get you to base, they pick out the shit that's causing shit, an' it'll finally be game over.”

“Until something else pops up! I swear, it's one thing after another. I'm starting to wish I'd killed the fucking thing,” Andy muttered, rubbing at the bottoms of his feet, shaking his head with annoyed thoughts over once again having to move without shoes. He was never going to take off his shoes the next time he had them. Ever.

“Ha, ha, Murphy, you chump. Least it ain't boring, your life, right?”

“Well…I guess…but all this attention is rather annoying.”

Ken started to say something when movement caught his eye, and he looked over to find a large, mottled hand grip the edge of the roof, more movement to its left bringing his attention over. At the sight of Hunters, he frowned. Quickly, he shuffled through his pockets, found what he was looking for.

“Here,” he said, stuffing it into his pockets, causing him to yelp and curse at him for touching him. At the sight of Andy catching sight of the Hunters, Ken pushed at him to move. “Kurt, we've got Hunters. Moving east along the top. Seven of `em.”

“Fuckin' Hell, Ken!” Paul cursed, and it was startling to hear both the transmission and the sound traveling very closeby. “Stay the fuck put! I'm almost there!”

But at the sight of the large brutes moving in their direction, brandishing crude weapons, their Alien faces shifting with fierce expressions at the sight of them, Ken realized that he couldn't wait. He pushed Andy towards the east, toward a row of buildings. The Hunters moved quick and fast, separating with some earlier decision. Four of them went over to the fire escape, roaring Alien curses and taunts, two hacking at the metal to dislocate the fire escape from the side of the building. Three of them began their chase.

Leaping from one building to the other, Ken withdrew his SMGs and began firing, watching as Andy made the leap with some trouble, skinning his knees on impact. One Hunter, brandishing a machete made of some crude material, spun the weapon, bullets flinging off and away from him as he created a fan effect. Another withdrew a couple of rock sized objects from his belt and tossed them, Ken ceasing fire to pull his mask up his face.

The explosion was felt as he rocked backward, being the main focus of the toss. He hit the rooftop with a grunt, almost losing his guns. At the sight of the other Hunter moving in fast with a machete of his own, he lifted and fired at him, shouting at Andy to move onto the next. The Hunter grunted as bullets sprayed up and over him, impacting his spotted skin with dull crunches.

In his peripheral vision, he saw Andy hesitate, then move quickly. Ken climbed to his feet, holstering his right SMG and then reaching into his belt. He withdrew a couple of pellets, and flung them down at the Hunter's feet. It screeched as gas and powder sprayed over him, allowing Ken to turn and run after Andy unbothered by the creatures. After making the second leap to the next rooftop, he looked over to see two of the Hunters moving after them, the other walking about, frantically swiping at its eyes, clawing at his throat.

“Down the last buildin'!” Ken shouted at Andy, withdrawing more pellets from his belt and flinging them at the pair.

“He's not answering any of my calls,” Larson reported with a frown. “Maybe because Ken's with him, now.”

“Maybe it's because you guys were texting and harassing him last time with that equipment?” Adam muttered, trying not to think about how it bothered him; the situation, and the fact that Ken was with Andy.

“Maybe so…but I don't recall ever doing something like that. That's illegal.”

“Liar! I saw those things!”

“Well…I didn't do it. It had to be someone else. Wearing my equipment,” Larson added lamely.

“Now, kids,” Ian interjected, walking between them and waving his hands about. “Let's not get angry with each other. Peace, friends. See, the situation here is this—supposedly Larson sent harassing texts to the guy, so let's say he's ignoring them. Good call, good call, but what do we do if we can't get a hold of the guy by phone?”

“Go to the house.”

“Right. Which is why…we're on the train. Doing just that.” Ian reached over and slapped Adam's shoulder. “Buddy, you've been tense all evening. Care to share?”

“No.”

“Worried that Ken's moving in on your property?” Bridgette asked, holding onto a support ring.

“Shut up, bitch.”

“Ouch.”

“Hey, instead of going for Andy, try and reach Ken,” Ian said to Larson, pointing at the t.o. sitting on the bench next to Sam. “Patch me through to Kurt.”

“Patching through!” Larson replied, jotting at a few holographic options that popped up from his armband.

There was a ringing mix of excitement on the other end, their ear pieces filling with the chaos. The voices of both 43 and 593 were lifted with orders, exclamations and shouts toward each other. Adam felt his back clench as he heard snippets of their activity, of 593 holding Dogs down on the street but losing them in the melee with a broken fire escape. Kurt was ordering for a medical evacuation and a report on Hunters entering the fray, in pursuit.

Ian wrinkled his brow. “Sounds like they're busy. I'd rather not trouble `em.”

“I'm signing off, then,” Larson said, moving to do so when Adam heard Jefferson shouting at Nathanial in that his Paul was seriously hurt in the fire escape crash. Ken's response to the situation was a simply inquiry, the others quickly saying something else to ward off the possibility that Paul was dead.

“Wait! Wait…Ken's with them,” Adam said quickly, touching his earpiece to listen closely for those voices.

Ian frowned at him, and mimicked the action, Larson working quickly on his other arm band to bring up the map of the area they were in. Immediately the team were able to see their colored pinpoints within a sector of the west side, closely grouped together with the other squad on scene, with only a single pinpoint moving steadily east of their location.

“That's Ken,” he pointed out hurriedly. “The others are here. They might need some back up, Peters. We're close by.”

“Then we're heading in that direction,” Ian said, noting the stops that were coming up. As the train slowed and came to a stop, they shifted about to let the other passengers off, anxiously waiting for the train to move again. “Larson, continue monitoring that map. I'm going to radio in for our squad to be involved.”

As Ian turned away to do so, Adam felt his stomach clench. The harried mention of Hunters and Dogs caused tension to claw at him, and he had no real idea why. The squads were in the midst of some street battle against Alien mercenaries, something that wasn't new in New Park. But the apprehension he felt in them being unable to reach Andy and having this situation up really picked at him. He exhaled slowly, trying to relax and assure himself that this was only a basic street run-in. Not a situation he pictured Andy being involved in.

“Peters, that you calling in?” Kurt then asked over their ear pieces, Ian returning to them and holding onto a support ring. “We're being separated—they have Ken on the run. Once you leave the station, come up on W254 and move east towards E178.”

“Copy that. What's the situation?”

“Ken and Murphy are on the run. Dorsal sent in henches. You need to stop their pursuers. It's a heavily residential area, and Ken's trying to push Murphy through the least populated areas. Only it's not happening. We need to air lift him out, but we need a clear area to do so!”

“I got that,” Ian said, looking at the others and seeing Sam's expression of alarm. He then jerked about, patting his pockets hastily. “Hunters and Dogs, you say?”

“Dorsal clearly planned on apprehending Murphy. That's what the Dogs are for. If they succeed—we can't even find Dorsal! What's going to happen if they succeed with this?”

“Right. I'll radio in once we reach our interception point,” Ian said, holding up his cellphone. He activated it, and they watched him with dismayed expressions.

“You can be punished for that,” Larson pointed out unnecessarily. “Peters.”

“I'm looking for Murphy's cellphone signal,” Ian muttered, thumbs moving rapidly.

“Uh, I can do that….?”

After a few moments, Ian gave Larson a look. “Oh. Oh yeah. Huh. I forgot. Sorry. Do that.”

As Larson followed through with the action, throwing Ian a look, Ian turned his phone off and slipped it back into his shirt pocket. Adam looked away, straining to hear more of the broadcast from Kurt's end, hearing their frantic shouts and orders as Ken moved further and further away from them.

He was running out of ammo, and once he realized this, Ken used the last of his arsenal on the Hunters that continued to pursuit them. As soon as he was empty, he flicked his thumbs over the safety lock keypad, the continuous flash of red assuring him that the guns were locked down. Only allowing his unique thumbprint to reactivate the weaponry upon the signal. He flung one hard at the nearest Hunter, watching it snarl as the metal bounced off its face. With the other he waited for it to close in, slashing at him with the machete. He deftly avoided that, and then swung, catching the Hunter's jaw in an upward motion. The Hunter stumbled, Ken using all his strength and assisted power to slam into him, digging into his belt with his free hand.

He stuffed the pellets into the Hunter's mouth, causing it to choke as it hit the street. Ken rolled off him and quickly moved to run as the other Hunter charged at him. The explosion of the pellets within the fallen Hunter created a messy splat over the street, the sound sickly and wet. The living Hunter stopped its pursuit to look back at its partner, Ken turning and quickly running after Andy, who was struggling to stay ahead of the group, trying to keep himself away from people that used the sidewalks around them.

“One left!” Ken huffed, hearing Kurt's response. “Where's Paul?”

“Out, Ken. He was on the fire escape. I'm having him airlifted back to base with head and back trauma.”

“Hah! Weak ass motherfucker!” he crowed, but inwardly felt awful as he wondered the state of his brother. He reached Andy, to point at a building closed off to the public, with numerous signs declaring its demolition date. Seven stories high and a former hotel, he found it suited their current needs. “Hole up in there, Murphy. We kin still use the rooftop.”

He looked back to judge where the Hunter was and found it rapidly closing in on them. The seven foot tall Alien with scarred muscles, decorative leather and a bandoleer of weaponry had a machete clenched in both hands, having taken one of them from its fallen comrade. Its snarling face, spotted with scars and burn marks, was focused clearly on him. Ken knew he couldn't take it hand to hand, not with his assisted strength and speed. The Hunter was more dominating in strength and power, and he could get seriously hurt or dead if he tried.

He patted his belt and realized he was out of pellets, but he was still armed with the necessary pistol and combat knife. The pistol would do nothing but piss it off even further, but the knife was capable of inflicting harm. As Andy quickly climbed up and over the reinforced fence surrounding the building, Ken withdrew his pistol, activated it, and fired at the Hunter's beady eyes. Bullets bounced up and away from its overlarge cheekbones and brow, causing it to falter.

Ken quickly turned around and scaled the fence, the Hunter's moving body hitting him with both smell and sound. He dropped to the other side once the creature slammed into the wall with jolting force. Impact with hard asphalt caused a shock to run through him, but it wasn't painful enough to slow him down. He quickly climbed to his feet, hearing the Hunter try to break its way through the fence instead of climbing it.

Ken then gave his location to Kurt, who acknowledged the call-in. He then asked for a transfer of the building's blueprint, something Kurt took a few minutes doing, signaling she'd send it when she received it.

Andy pushed at the locked door of the building, struggling with it, so Ken picked up speed up the stairs and used all his force to slam into the locked metal. It jolted backward with a protesting screech. Looking back, he saw that the Hunter was scrambling over the fence, so he moved back and slammed into the doors again. It opened a wide enough space for them to crawl through, Ken quickly peeling off his pack and leaving it, allowing him to squeeze through the space after Andy had.

Once inside, he gave a low curse, activating the night vision options. Andy fumbled as he shifted through the dark, banging against walls and railing, obviously unable to see. Ken caught up to him and grabbed an arm, pushing and directing him on where to go. Finding a stairway, they both headed up, the Hunter bursting through the doors with an Alien scream of outrage. Its eyes adjusted to what light was allowed in from the streets, and it spotted both of them moving up onto the second floor.

With a low hiss, it started after them.