Shattered Boundaries

Chapter 4:

"America is in its death throes... they would see the world burn before its true masters arise and so they have attacked us in the manner of a coward. They have sealed their fate and on this day, I PROMISE YOU BLOOD!!!" Paramount Leader of the People's Republic of China

"You've known my name since the day that you created me, Mas... Jonathan."

Private White stared at her, the words she had spoken not quite registering. As their meaning slowly seeped in, his confusion held steady, but a kernel of panic had already taken root. He feared she had completely lost her mind.

"What do you mean... I created you?"

"You created me..." she echoed, unsure what he wanted her to say. Then inspiration stuck her. Maybe he meant to ask how he had done it.

"Sister says that Masters create us when they first understand their world."

She smiled up at him, pleased that she had remembered a lesson from so long ago. But the smile faded when she saw he was still confused. She unhappily considered that she was failing her master. White stared at her and took a few moments weighing what he should say next. Every answer she gave only confused him more.

"You said that your sister told you how you were created...? So she would know more about these things?"

Perhaps the sister would be able to shed some light on what was going on. There was a chance that he would get more of the same, but he was not getting very far as things stood.

"Bond-Sister," she waggled her finger as she corrected him. "Yes. She's really smart, she always answers all my questions." Her smile was full of pride for her bond-sister.

White scratched his head at the another puzzle piece she had laid out before him. "What's the difference?"

The look she gave him was so childishly indignant that he wanted to laugh.

"Sisters have the same Master, but Bond-Sisters don't." She loved her bond-sister, but this was her Master and she was definitely not going to share.

"Okay...." The answer made no sense to White, but he was not going to pursue it. At least he would not have to deal with another woman calling him master, he thought in relief.

She stared at him with a pout, as if daring him to challenge her assertion, but a yawn spoiled her expression. Seeing this, White smiled and suggested that she get some rest. She was quick to snuggle closer and practically purred as she closed her eyes.

He inwardly groaned. He had hoped she would lay down in the grass, not stay in his lap. But seeing no way out of this predicament, he accepted his fate. Sitting back more comfortably against the tree, he took a moment to study the young woman in his lap. She was perfect in every way he could imagine... From her shining blonde hair to her flawless, lightly tanned skin...

Wait a second, shining hair and flawless skin?!

His eyes began darting about, examining every detail of her appearance more closely. What he saw simply could not be right. She was in perfect health... despite being held captive by a group of armed men, on a bombed out continent that barely had any food. There wasn't a single sign of malnutrition or physical mistreatment anywhere he could see. The same words that had kept running in his mind since the attack by the creatures flashed once more,

Something is very wrong here.

He was worried and his mind flitted about through potential explanations, but none seemed very realistic. As he ran out of possibilities, he begrudgingly concluded that there was nothing more he could do for the time being. Feeling the strain of the past twenty-four hours weighing on him, he decided he would join her in getting some rest. As a soldier, he knew it was important to take every chance he could to sleep... Getting her back to the Bleu lines would not be easy. He felt of a stab of possessiveness shoot through him at the thought, but he shook it off. It was their duty to get her back, and the Bleus would take much better care of her than he could. The feeling would not completely dissipate though. He even found himself imaging a life with her in his near sleep.

A little house up in Montana maybe.. Somewhere far from other people...

As he grew closer to true slumber, his eyes closed and his thoughts lost clarity. They ran together in a jumble of images. And even those began to lose focus, until only a vague impression of colors was left. Eventually, he began to dream and those random colors coalesced into a new scene.

He stood in his body armor outside of a large door made of wood and iron. As with most dreams, he had no real sense of his body. He could see the armor, but was not necessarily sure there was anything in it. He did not have time to ponder the physics of the dream world though. Smoothly, his hand drew up towards the door. He had hardly made contact with the door when it swung inwards on silent hinges. Walking inside he found himself in a ballroom. Mentally he chuckled. He had five younger sisters and they had loved making scenes like this. Their father had bought them a holoprojector and they had nearly burned it out with constant use. He marveled at the detail though. All the dreams he could remember were fuzzy, but everything before him was in clear focus. As he looked over the room, he realized that he could not remember anything like it. The projections his sisters had fiddled with always had a lot of gold and mirrors. Their model had been some famous palace in France... Oh the irony, he thought. This place did not have any mirrors at all, the only glass was from three large windows at the other end of the room. They reached from floor to ceiling and diffused the light into a warm glow. The ceiling itself was high enough that a second floor could have been built without needing to raise it. The soldier racked his brain, trying to pin down what possible memory could have generated this place.

While he pondered this dilemma, he heard approaching steps. Perhaps a better way of putting it was that he had the impression someone was approaching. He could never make heads nor tails of where one sense ended and another began in his dreams. Looking around for the source of the "noise", he noticed another entrance had appeared. This one seemed to lead into a hallway. As he felt the other person approach, his hand began drifting towards his sidearm. Old habits die hard and he did not notice where it was going until he rubbed up against some strange material. His head snapped down at the sensation and he was surprised to find that his outfit had changed. Where his scout's armor had been before was now some kind of archaic garment. He believed it was called something like texdo... tuckdio... Tuxedo. He nodded to himself, that last name sounded about right. The approaching steps had stopped though and he looked back at the hallway entrance.

There she stood... Even in his dreams he could not get away from the young woman that called him Master. Smiling wryly, he walked towards her. His duty came first in the real world, but here he intended to indulge himself. After all, the scenario his subconscious had concocted was pretty tame. There was nothing wrong with simply dancing.

Every step that brought him closer to her, though, saw his heart beat a little faster. She was absolutely radiant. The dress she wore was as archaic as his own clothing, but he was mesmerized at the way it fit her. The corset that formed the upper portion accentuated her slim waistline, and it brought up her breasts in an enticing manner. The lower portion was made of voluminous skirts that lightly swept out around her at her every move. Her golden hair had been done up in an elegant style, with two little ringlets loose to frame her beautiful features. Her head was tilted down and her hands fidgeted slightly at her sides. A light pink glow suffused her cheeks as she stood nervously before him. But it was her eyes that filled his heart to overflowing. She looked at him under her eyelashes, those mesmerizing blue orbs full of hope and pleading. Slowly the realization dawned on him... She was waiting for his approval. He could not help but smile. This vision of indescribable perfection... This flawless creature that could make Aphrodite weep in shame... wondered if he approved.

Before he could think, he spoke.

"Annabel my love, come to me."

Her eyes grew wide and tears of joy began welling up in them. Her Master had finally spoken her True Name. She rushed to him and hugged him as tightly as she had at their first meeting, but this time she knew he would not float away.

The rational part of Jonathan's mind was dumbstruck. It raged at him to think this through, but it was a lonely voice. Every other shred of his being was far more concerned with how he could keep that radiant smile on his dear Annabel. Every time he thought her name a small shiver raced up his spine.

Somehow they had come to stand in the center of the room without moving a muscle, but neither could bring themselves to care. For a few more moments they stood basking in each others warmth. Slowly, they parted just enough to look into each other's eyes. What they found there mesmerized them and they could not look away. As slowly as they had parted, they began to move. Gradually, they began to dance to a rhythm only they could hear. Anyone that could have peered into the ballroom at that moment would have instantly known it for it was... a lover's dance... More intimate and beautiful than anything dreamt of by man.

Neither knew how long they danced, time was irrelevant when they were in the midst of so much joy, but something began to intrude into their awareness. White was the first to notice the strange sensation. He tried to place what it was, but when he could not, he simply ignored it, more important matters were at hand. A few more moments passed before Annabel became aware of the more familiar sensation. Her eyes took on a faraway look for a moment before focusing back on her master.

"We must awaken," she said, somewhat sadly.

"Why?"

"Sister comes and they will need our help."

Private White immediately remembered the conditions in the waking world. If her sister...Bond-sister, he corrected himself...needed their help, then that meant so did his comrades that were doubtlessly escorting her. He nodded his head to his beautiful partner and the world began to fade. Darkness enveloped him and then gradually began to lessen. The changing brightness came to a stop as he saw a light with a tinge of red on its outer edges. At this point the knew he was looking at the inside of his eyelids and began opening them.

"Cameron, We need to get to the Sergeant and Fireteam Bravo," White called out as soon as he was fully awake. Annabel had already begun standing to let him up.

As Cameron turned around, the question he was about to voice died on his lips. In the distance they heard the chatter of weapons' fire and a single shouted word.

"AMBUSH!!!"

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The column of soldiers and civilians wound their out of the former raider base. In all their minds it was now simply a graveyard.

Once the captives had been released, Carlos, the squad's language expert, had greeted them in French, but none had been willing to respond. So now they all walked along in silence. Sergeant Scott led the group at the front, Anderson walked alongside the center of the line, and Carlos brought up the rear. The other three scouts were ranging out in the forest, watching for threats.

Anderson had been uncomfortable ever since he had first laid eyes on the beautiful redhead. Her demeanor was cold to all of them, but at the moment she was doing something that set his nerves even more on edge. She continually moved to walk directly next to him. He had tried to walk faster, slower, and had even moved to the other side of the line at one point, but she would always end up right next to him. She was not obvious about it, in fact the experienced scout could never even catch her moving towards him. Somehow she would always just appear at his side when he was not looking.

He did notice, however, that the other former captives were giving them both a wide berth. He could understand why they avoided her, he was doing it for the exact same reason, but he wondered why they avoided him. He mentally shrugged, attributing it to her constant proximity to him, and once again concentrated on how to put some space between them.

Anderson was only partially correct. The freed captives did not know what exactly had happened at the base, but they sensed a shark in the water and did not want to get between her and what was obviously her prey.

They continued along their route to Alpha's position for a while longer before they came to a stop. The people that they were escorting were in poor physical condition and had no hope of keeping pace with the soldiers so they would need periodic rests. Up until that point the unofficial game of cat and mouse had continued between Corporal Anderson and the redhead. Now that the column had stopped, Sergeant Scott motioned for him to come over and bring the woman with him. Anderson sighed, realizing he was not going to be able to get away from her for a while.

"Since that other young woman told us where you were, I'm assuming you speak English?" The Sergeant asked the redhead as they approached.

"Whatever, you say."

She had kept her bored demeanor, but the two soldiers were thrown off by her voice. It could not be described as anything less than sultry, but was completely at odds with her attitude. As they studied her for a moment they both had the same impression. She practically exuded sex, but somehow it left them feeling cold.

"What's your name then?" the Sergeant spoke in a gruff voice, a bit miffed at her answer.

"Whatever you want it to be," she coolly responded.

Scott was becoming increasingly annoyed with the ungrateful behavior of the woman and was about to giver a piece of his mind. However, Anderson beat him to the punch.

"Listen here,

we

rescued

you

. Now, you are going to be a good little girl and answer our questions or I

will

teach you some manners." If the woman was cold then at that moment Anderson was ice. He was surprised at himself, but went with it, chalking it up to simply snapping after she had been chasing him for the past hour.

The ghost of a smile appeared at his outburst, but she responded coolly again, "I haven't been given one."

The soldiers nearly groaned out loud. Another one of these crazy woman had landed in their midst and this one was not winning any awards for friendliness.

I can think of a few names I'd like to call her

, the Sergeant bitterly thought.

"Let me guess, your Master hasn't given you one?"

She only stared at him at him, not deigning to respond. At this the Sergeant rubbed his temples and looked for somewhere to sit. He did not want to ride that merry-go-around again, much less with this woman.

"We'll rest here for a few more minutes. Corporal, see if we can spare any food and water for the civies."

The Sergeant tried to refocus his mind on to the matter of the rescued captives. They were a much more immediate concern than whatever was going on with the two women. His squad was meant for recon, not search and rescue. They had few supplies, as they were meant to travel light, and the group that they were now forced to escort would run through them quickly. The thought of leaving them behind did cross his mind, but he could not bring himself to seriously consider it. His entire life had been devoted to protecting others, and it was not in him to leave them to what would almost certainly be their deaths.

As the Sergeant weighed his options, Anderson had begun walking over to the emaciated group of men. He was so intent on avoiding the redhead that he completely forgot to offer her anything. He attempted to communicate with the men, but eventually had to get Carlos' help in translating. Even then, they would only nod or shake their heads in response to the soldiers' questions.

After providing them with what they could, Anderson noticed one man that hung back from the others. He had layers of tattered rags hanging off his bony frame and fidgeted strangely. He constantly rung his hands and kept a stooped posture, as if ready to curl up into a ball at a moments notice. Anderson ignored the man's demeanor and walked over to ask if he needed anything.

"Food?" The Corporal asked, while motioning to his mouth.

The man had been staring off in to space and was startled at Anderson's presence. Once he saw who it was, his expression became more intent. He searched the soldier's face for something before seeming to come to a decision.

"You must beware of the hell spawn that stalks you," He whispered urgently, in perfect English. His eyes then began darting about, as if he would be attacked simply by speaking.

Both the warning and the words themselves surprised Anderson. He did not expect any of the men in the group to speak English, much less start acting even more unstable than the two women.

"Hell spawn?" The soldier asked incredulously.

"When the sons of Adam turn on one another, the children of Lilith shall walk the Earth," the old man intoned.

Anderson resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Everyone on this continent has lost it

, he thought. Tired of jumping from one patch of craziness to another, he simply gave the old man a bar of food and some water from his canteen. He was not going to get himself stuck into another pointless discussion about these peoples personal demons.

Hehe... demons.

As Anderson began turning away, he caught sight of a little patch of white at the man's collar. Doing a double take, he saw it to be a clerical collar. Silently laughing, he felt relief at being able to identify the source of at least one person's delusions. The blonde and redhead had frayed his nerves and that collar practically put a bounce in his step. It reassured him that no matter how strange the events of the last two days, there was always a perfectly reasonable explanation hiding just beyond the apparent insanity the world threw at them.

He was so preoccupied with his miniature epiphany that he practically ran into the redhead. She had somehow come to be standing just a few steps behind him. He jumped back and confusedly tried to figure out how she had gotten there. He could have sworn she had still been standing near the Sergeant while he was talking to the old man.

"You should be more careful, M.. maybe look where you're walking?" The sarcasm in her voice was momentarily broken as she changed whatever she was about to say.

"Perhaps I should tie a bell around your neck instead," Anderson growled back.

He almost laughed at the affronted look on her face. He did not know what it was about this woman, but she certainly had a strange effect on him. As he suppressed his laughter, a smile had unconsciously spread across his face. The redhead was now glaring at him. When he noticed it, his composure almost slipped completely. He knew he should be annoyed with her attitude, perhaps even a bit angry, but at that moment the whole situation struck him as ridiculous. Here stood this young woman, nearly a full head shorter than him, after having chased him all around a column of rescued prisoner, glaring up at him as if he should be intimidated. It was all too much for the Corporal and he began to shake with barely contained laughter.

His squad mates and the rescued prisoners all turned towards the disturbance in the middle of the clearing and stared. A fully armored soldier shaking in laughter at a woman that set them all on edge was not a common sight. While the Corporal tried, and failed, to hold himself together, the woman glowered at him with both her hands on her hips.