Welcome to "Trail of Tears" part two! At the bottom of this page is a link back to my fanfiction site as well as a link to my e-mail. I would appreciate any kind/good/constructive/deconstructive/hate mail. Just please keep the language clean (or I'll delete it without reading it). Please title the e-mail "Trail of Tears". Thank you, and enjoy...
==== Scene 10. Altea spread her legs and twisted the katana in the air. She began moving it back and forth, testing the air with it. Bennett watched her intently. “Did MacLeod give you the ‘make it a part of you’ speech yet?” “The...?” “Feel the sword,” Altea said, slicing it through the air. “You’ve got to make it...” “A part of me?” Bennett finished. “Exactly. You’ve got to be able to use your sword as if it was part of your own arm.” Altea bounced forward, her sword lunging out. Bennett blocked, then spun with a vertical cut to Altea’s neck. The Amazon woman was fast, her sword was already in position to block Bennett’s attack. “Okay,” Altea grinned. “Good. Now, what I want you to do is...” Altea stopped. Bennett frowned for a minute, than he felt what she did. An Immortal. “MacLeod?” Bennett asked. Altea readied herself with the katana. Her axe was propped up against the inside wall of the office, and she didn’t have enough time to get it. “Behind me,” Altea whispered. “Now!” Bennett nodded, keeping his katana ready. A woman stepped into the dojo. Bennett recognized her. “So,” the woman said. “You’re one of us now.” “What do you want?” Altea asked. “Not what,” the woman replied. “Who. And...it’s not you. Where’s Duncan MacLeod?” “Who wants to know?” Altea replied. “Me.” “You want to hold back information, that’s cool,” Altea smiled. “But if you want MacLeod, you come through me.” “I would...” the woman said. “But I don’t want you.” Suddenly, a gun was in the mysterious Immortal’s hand. Altea’s eyes widened, and she stepped forward, swinging her sword through the air, but the gun went off - once, twice, three times. Altea fell back, the katana falling out of his hand, her body crashing to the floor. Bennett brought up his katana, but the woman suddenly had a rapier out. “Who are you?” Bennett demanded. Above and behind, the elevator whined into service. Someone was descending. “Allison Waters,” the woman retorted. She stepped forward, swinging her blade. Bennett had learned a lot in the few hours since he had learned he was Immortal, but Waters was better, and with a flick of her sword she sliced open Bennett’s wrist and knocked the sword out of his hand. Waters put her rapier to Bennett’s throat. “What now?” Bennett gasped. “Now...you become a tool.” Waters moved her rapier quickly, slamming her hilt into Bennett’s forehead. The tall cop stumbled, and Waters quickly scooped him up, dragging him out of the dojo. The gate to the elevator slid up, and Richie raced out, his sword in hand. He saw Altea’s prone form and ran over to her, grateful to realize that her head was still connected to her body. Richie hurried for the doorway, when two bullets slammed into him. Richie went down. Waters smiled in the shadows. ==== Scene 11. FLASHBACK: 1992 “This damn case gets weirder by the moment,” Bennett snarled, pacing around the Antique store. Duncan and Tessa watched him curiously. “Why?” Tessa asked. “Chief Ballin turns up murdered last night,” Bennett lamented. “We find a rifle in the trunk of his car, ballistics matched to a slug dug out of your upholstery.” Bennett said, pointing at Duncan. “We then matched the fibers dug out of Ann Wheeler’s fingernails, and they matched those in Ballin’s overcoat.” Bennett shook his head. “You think you know somebody.” “Yeah, Anne Wheeler thought she knew him too.” Duncan pointed out. “Yeah,” Bennett agreed. He looked at Tessa. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you the first time.” Tessa crossed her arms and smiled. “It’s okay.” Bennett eyes Duncan. “I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” ==== Scene 12. Filteau moved his hand down Sara Doyle’s blouse, and the young woman twisted away from him, scared at the sudden intimacy. The two people were sitting on the marble steps of what would be the entry of the Seacouver Convention Center when it opened in a few months. It was still under construction, planes of glass and building material were stacked against a far wall. Natural light streamed in from the sunroof. Suddenly, Filteau jerked as a presence struck him. “Get out of here,” a dark voice called to her. Striding through the shadows came the Highlander. Filteau took his hand off Doyle’s breast and stood, picking his long coat up. The young woman looked at the two men and raced away in a hurry. “Christ, MacLeod,” Filteau muttered in anger. “You couldn’t have waited half an hour?” “Gage Zanski was my friend.” Duncan snarled, drawing his katana from within his long black duster. “Only Gage Zanski? What about Ferris Kyle?” Duncan’s jaw tensed. “You killed him too? Why? What happened to you?” “Me? Oh, nothing, MacLeod! Just being burned to death on a pirate ship! Dammit, MacLeod! I spent my mortal life under other people’s heels! Then I became Immortal -- and I still spent it under heel!” Duncan spun his katana. “Dammit, Filteau! We don’t die mortal deaths! And you sent innocent men and women whose only crimes was the color of their skin to their graves! You crushed them under your heel to advance your position in life!” “You know what, MacLeod? They died for nothing. I was shot after they lead you away! All I want is your head.” Filteau shedded his trench coat and sliced his scimitar in the air. Filteau smiled. “Whatever happens, Highlander...” Duncan grinned, shedded his duster and stepped forward, swinging the katana down. Filteau brought his scimitar up and deflected the blow. Duncan spun his sword for Filteau’s exposed stomach, but the other Immortal dodged back, easily, warding off another attack with a slice that cut through the air. “It’s over,” Duncan finished. The same words he and Kalas had spoken before the former opera singer had lost his head. Filteau attacked, and Duncan blocked. Swords swung against each other with fluid rhythm. Steel against steel, sparks flew from the ferocity of the attacks. Finally, Filteau made his mistake, and in two swift movements, his scimitar was knocked out of his hands and Duncan’s blade sank deep into the flesh of his stomach. The Highlander grinned, twisting the blade. Filteau cried out, and Duncan ripped his katana out and sliced it brutally across Filteau’s legs. The disarmed Immortal stumbled, collapsing to his knees. Blood pooled beneath the Immortal’s body as he struggled to heal himself. Duncan stood above him, placing the sharp edge of his word to Filteau’s neck. “There Can Be...” A sudden sensation. Another Immortal - close by. “Wait, Highlander!” Duncan’s eyes moved across the warehouse. Moving across the floor, a rapier in hand, Allison Waters walked with dangerous intent. In front of her, Bennett walked with his hands in front of himself. He was obviously a prisoner. “Do you care about your student at all?” Waters smiled, evily. “I want your head.” Duncan kept the edge of his sword at Filteau’s neck. “And after you’ve taken my head, he’ll take yours.” “I like that idea,” Filteau muttered under his breath. “Don’t worry about that,” Waters said, smiling. She removed a gun from her coat pocket and aimed it at Filteau. Filteau’s eyes opened wide. Waters pulled the trigger and Filteau’s body jerked. Duncan stepped back as his opponent collapsed, dead. Waters smiled. “Now, drop your sword...and prepare to die.” Waters had made a mistake. She had underestimated Bennett. He had been a cop for fifteen years, and on more than one occasion he had charged a dangerous suspect. Disarming suspects was an almost daily experience for him. The new Immortal moved quickly, kicking Water’s sword arm away and grabbing for her gun. She jerked her arm, and opened fire, shooting wildly. Duncan staggered back, a bullet in his leg and another in his chest. Bennett succeeded in knocking the gun out of her hand. Waters took a step back and swung the sword wildly at the police sergeant. “You son of a --” “Bennett!” Duncan shouted. The Highlander had fallen to his knees, and was “dying” quickly. But he had enough strength to lift his katana into the air and throw it. The sword flew through the air, clashing to the ground behind Bennett. He knew that if Bennet didn’t take her head, she would take all of theirs before the first Quickening had a chance to rise. Waters charged forward, intent on taking Bennett’s head. Bennett leaped backwards, grabbed the katana with both hands and swung it upwards, meeting Water’s descending rapier. Water’s rapier was sliced in half by the superior metal in the katana. The katana continued its swing, and Water’s body collapsed to the ground. Bennett dropped the katana in shock at what he had done. A white cloud arose from Water’s body, lifting her into the air. Tentacles of blue tinged electricity sparked from the body. Bennett stood transfixed, afraid, as it loomed above him. The body spun, madly. What kind of magic was this? Suddenly, the lightbulbs installed on the ceiling exploded, showering the floor in hot sparks. A sharp stab of pain lanced through him. Bennett’s arm moved on its own accord, into the air. Tentacles of lightening spun around him, biting into his skin. He opened his mouth and screamed as images flashed through his mind faster than he could comprehend. His skin was burning, I am Immortal! I am Great! I... The glass waiting to be installed in the interior frames exploded open, showering glass all across the lobby. Bennett screamed out as the glass cut into him. He dropped the katana, and it clattered to the marble floor. Mental overload. The sensation passed suddenly, and Bennett collapsed to the ground. ==== Duncan opened his eyes a few minutes later. His wounds had healed. Bennett was kneeling beside him, smiling warmly. The lieutenant handed the ivory-hilted katana back to Duncan. “I thought you might want this back.” Duncan nodded, memories coming back in a flash. The decapitated body of Waters - where was Filteau? Duncan was on his feet, his katana firmly in his hand. “I’m sorry, MacLeod.” Bennett said. “The other fella’ got out of here. I...I couldn’t take him on. Not after that...” Bennett waved his hands through the air. Duncan put his hand on Bennett’s shoulder. “That...was the Quickening. The first time for everyone is rough.” “Does it get easier?” “The Quickening?” “No.” Bennett said, shaking his head solemnly. “The killing.” Duncan looked at Bennett. “It’s not supposed to.” Bennett looked around. “What about...” Duncan’s eyes narrowed. “He’ll be back.”
Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this story. Seann Filteau will return, as will Tim Bennett. Maybe they'll live...maybe they won't...who can say? There Can Be Only One...