Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Coming Home ❯ 83 ( Chapter 83 )

83

 

It's time we had a break from it

It's time we had some leave

 

The third checkpoint proved to be my limit. Two-score operatives, nearly a third of whom were psi-talents, had to be subdued within a matter of seconds as Nagi overrode the electrical systems and broke into their database. I stood still, trembling and covered in a fine sheen of sweat while Farfarello and Brad confiscated the backups and an assortment of documents. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was going to faint from overexertion. I ground my teeth together and concentrated on holding the illusion on our captive audience, all the while hoping my team would hurry the hell up and get me out of there.

 

Again we left the database in shambles, with traps laid to slow any sort of recovery for their system. And again Nagi fried their communications setup. Bonus for us, this checkpoint was part of the secure relay system for Esset: we'd just wrecked part of their East-West broadcast net. I didn't know if Brad had known this before coming here, but I suspected that he had. His strategy consisted of more layers than a death-by-chocolate cake, and we only saw the frosting.

 

I kept the thought of chocolate in my mind as I retreated to the safety of the car. My head hurt, a dull, steady pain unlike my usual rebound headaches. Only when Brad signaled me did I release my hold on the Esset agents. I promptly collapsed in a sweaty, exhausted heap.

 

Cool, gentle hands caressed my forehead with soothing feather-touches. A wet cloth passed over my face, trailed across my lips. I licked at the moisture. The cool hands moved away, then returned to offer me a bottle of water. Nagi's voice followed them across the void in my head: “Don't drink fast, Schuldig. Just sip.”

 

I clutched at the bottle as though I had been lost in the desert, but his words slowed me just enough. That, and my hands shook too much to hold the bottle securely.

 

From the corner of his eye, Brad watched, his lips pressed to thinness in an expression of deep concern.

 

Nagi addressed him with calm certainty. “Psychic overextension. The body pays for the gift after a certain point. He needs rest, Crawford. Real food would be nice, but rest is crucial.”

 

Brad nodded, distracted. “That's his condition. What's yours?”

 

“I'm fine,” Nagi replied, meeting Brad's gaze through the rearview mirror. With a shrug he added, “Electricity is easier than matter, that's all.”

 

“Ah, right,” Brad said. To me, he asked, “How do you feel?”

 

“Like total shit.”

 

Brad seemed to be debating something; his forehead wrinkled in a slight frown. Then he said, “There's a campground not far from here, at Swietokrzyski National Park. Should be fairly secure. We'll stay there for a few days, blend in with the tourists, get some decent rest. If the weather holds, it won't be bad at all. And from what I've Seen, summer isn't going anywhere just yet.” He offered me a slight smile. “You've earned a break. You all have.”

 

“The Holy Cross Mountains,” Far murmured, his voice soft. “I've heard of them.”

 

My eyes slid shut on their own. I did not have the energy or inclination to deal with this. For a moment I hoped that Nagi would just grab a hypo and stab him on principle.

 

But then Far chuckled, a disturbingly reassuring sound. “I've always wanted to see Lysa Gora. It's sort of a pilgrimage, in a way.”

 

“Bald Mountain,” Brad said. I glanced over at him; he smiled and asked, “Disney, or Mussorgsky?”

 

Farfarello replied without hesitation. “Rimsky-Korsakov. He improved upon the original.”

 

“No he didn't,” Nagi stated flatly. “Change is not always improvement.” He paused, then added, “You do realize that particular Bald Mountain is at Kiev, not in Poland, don't you?”

 

Far leaned closer to Nagi and whispered, “Oh, there are many Bald Mountains. Kiev is just the most famous.”

 

I tuned them all out before they could get any more technical. Inwardly, I smiled. Nagi bantering with Farfarello was one of those odd signs that life went on just as it should. Now if I could just get my mind and my body to go along with the program.

 

After claiming another bottle of water, I watched idly as lingering traffic melted away behind us and the trees clustered more thickly along the road. Autumn had really painted this landscape with flash: the towering trees glowed red and gold, filtering the sunlight into a stained glass mosaic that soon had me nearly hypnotized. All that talk of Disney led me to imagine the trees actually moving forward to show off their colors. Decent rest would be a good thing. I felt like I hadn't slept in days, which wasn't technically true, but sometimes bad sleep was worse than no sleep. I muffled a yawn with the back of my hand, then fell into another fitful doze.

 

When I woke, I wasn't sure anymore how long we'd been in Poland, whether one day or three or ten. My mind felt fuzzy with overuse and fatigue. Late afternoon sunshine slanted bright and warm through my window as Brad switched off the ignition and we piled out of the car to stretch. He'd driven to the end of the area where cars were allowed to go and parked in an isolated clearing, well away from other campers and tourists. There was only so much blending we could do, after all, and privacy would be much appreciated. I felt like I could sleep for days on end.

 

Brad had selected a campsite on a hill, with good cover for us and a decent view of the rest of the park. Just above us on the hill sat a ranger station, which should serve as a good early warning system if anything should go wrong.

 

“Let's go up and take a look around,” Brad suggested. “I'd rather have a clear map in my head, in case we need it.” He paused before shutting the car door, a slight frown creasing his forehead. With a glance at me, he murmured, “Déjà vu. Come on.”

 

A scattering of early fallen leaves decorated the spongy dirt, made my footfalls crackle. The ground beneath seemed to absorb sound, an interesting counterpoint. If I were the outdoorsy type, I would think it was all rather pleasant. As it was, I watched the path for centipedes.

 

Though the incline wasn't terribly steep, I found myself falling behind as we trudged up the little hill. I couldn't seem to catch my breath. True, we were in the mountains, but we hadn't come that high up, had we? I paused, leaning heavily against a tree as my eyesight seemed to fade in and out of focus in time with my ragged breathing. Before the others could get too far ahead, or notice that I was not with them, I forced myself to move, one stubborn step at a time.

 

::Stop.:: Farfarello's mental voice echoed through the team link.

 

My skin prickled with warning. I couldn't read Farfarello at all. I gritted my teeth and forced myself to stand still a moment. My teammates stood about seven meters ahead of me, just inside the treeline. They were almost within view of the ranger station.

 

Nothing moved.

 

I sent out a tentative scan.

 

The station was empty.

 

But we were not alone.

 

 

 

 

 

A/N:

It's time we had a break from it

It's time we had some leave

“Veteran of the Psychic Wars” - Blue Öyster Cult Fire of Unknown Origin

 

“The Swietokrzyski National Park was established on May 1, l950. It covers the central, best-preserved part of the Swietokrzyskie Mountains (The Holy Cross Mountains). The mountains take their name from an old Benedictine Abbey...

 

“…Lysa Gora (Bald Mountain, 595 m above sea level)...”

 

(All information on this park researched through http://poland.pl/info/information_about_poland/environment. htm and http://www.staff.amu.edu.pl/~zbzw/ph/pnp/swie.htm)

 

Brad, Farfarello, and Nagi are discussing “Night on Bald Mountain” - the orchestral tone poem and the final sequence from Disney's Fantasia. Composed by Modest Mussorgsky, his “Ivanova noch' na Lisoy gore” was re-worked by Rimsky-Korsakov and again by Stokowski before seeping into the consciousness of movie watchers everywhere. Only the equally haunting “Ave Maria” could break the demon Chernobog's dark spell in one of the most memorable animated sequences ever inked. (Thank you, Wikipedia.)

 

And, for your enlightenment, check out http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lysa_Hora_%28paranormal%29 - trust me, it's worth it.