At The End Of The Tunnel

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At The End Of The Tunnel

Co-Written By Harley Quinn hyenaholic

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Harley: You know, if this were a movie, James’ Theme would be “This Machine”, only with different words. Cus I like that song and I think the music fits, even if not all the words do.

Froggy: What about Breech’s Theme?

Harley: “What I’m Made Of” with alternative lyrics, natch.

~~~

Chapter Twenty-Two: Something Inbetween

Cold…

Everything is so damn cold…

Am I alive?

Am I dead?

Am I… something inbetween?

~~~

A long way downriver, something was washed up on the beach. It looked like a black fur carpet, a wet, bloody, torn-up one.

On closer inspection, it was the corpse of a black cat. A female.

But it couldn’t be a corpse. It had just started bleeding, and corpses didn’t bleed.

Dead or not, the river and the rapids had not been kind. Her fur was cut to the shining, metal bone; in places it had almost been ripped off.

She started to cough up water, and lifted a dripping face. There was a massive scar down the left side of her face now.

Wherever I am, it doesn’t look like Hell, thought Breech, And I hurt way too much for it to be Heaven… besides, I don't think that's my stop...

Her mind tried to remember just what had happened. Something wretchedly bad, obviously – she hurt like hell, all over, and her vision was all blurry.

She’d fallen… yes, she’d fallen off that cliff. Through glass, and water, and onto rock. Through rock too, by the feel of her body. Her clothes, both the robes and the bullet-proof leather kit underneath, had been ripped to shreds, leaving only a few tatters of material hanging around her breasts and hips. Thank the various gods for those metal bones. She’d have been snapped into pieces without them.

She touched her face. Her left eyelid hurt too badly to open. There was blood pouring down her face. That meant… what did it mean?

No, not fallen… dropped… by Cur.

Oh, well, time to worry about that later. She twisted her dislocated right leg back into its socket with a curse of pain, and tried to stand. But she couldn’t. It hurt too much.

She dragged herself a few feet and looked up. Something shining in the sand… Something red… not blood... Oh, yeah! The Emerald she lifted from Korriban City. She took it in her paw and crawled on top of it.

I am in such deep shit, she thought absentmindedly.

So she just lay there, face down in the sand. She hadn’t died in the river, but she was going to die here instead, on the sand, if not from blood loss, then from lack of those wretched drugs.

Damn.

~~~

Nack threw back another beer, and stared out of the seaside pub. Breech hadn’t deserted him. She’d been ordered off on a mission with that dumbass Captain, and he’d been sent off with a really hot and impressionable young vixen.

The Royal Guard turncoats were all jerks, that was what worried him. And Breech… well, she didn’t always think straight.

No, he wasn’t jealous. That would be hypocritical – it wasn’t as if their relationship was particularly commitment-related. But he was rather worried about her. The train had returned a few hours ago, with signs of a fight taking place on board. All the weapons had been taken too.

Robotnik had put it down to terrorist activities, but he didn’t believe that. Breech could skin those rebels alive with one paw tied behind her back. No, something much worse had happened, he was sure of that.

He put down his glass with a sigh. Maybe a walk would clear his head.

As he walked along the beach, he regretted it. There had been another oil spill, and the dreadful stench of it hung in the air, along with the cries of dying sea creatures. It was horrible.

So he went a little inland instead, to try and avoid it. Here there was a different smell. The smell of… blood?

He hurried along an inlet. Here the water wasn’t so black and oily. There was another stain in the water – a slow red trickle. He followed it at almost a run – maybe he could loot the body responsible or something.

He looked down at the body. They’d only managed to drag themselves half out of the water, poor bastard. Must have fallen in upriver by the looks of it. Real torn up. Still alive, somehow.

“Come on, let’s have a look at that sorry face,” he muttered, and flipped them over with his foot. Then swore a lot. Because it was of course, Breech.

“Guh…” she managed.

“Breech? What are you doing here?” he asked her.

“Oh, just bleeding to death…” Breech muttered.

“Damn! What the HELL happened to your eye?”

“Don’t know… can’t see it…”

Nack groaned and picked up Breech, “Damn but you’re heavy with those metal bones. When I encouraged you to get them, I never saw myself carrying you three miles with them.”

“Just get me to a damn hospital, face-fucker…”

~~~

Robotnik rapped his fingers on his throne.

“So you found Loader washed up on the beach without any clothes, equipment or her associates Cur and Stone?”

“That’s about the whole of it, your wonderfulness…”

“And she had no gigantic emeralds with her whatsoever?”

“None I saw, your greatness,” Nack thought about the gigantic red gem he had concealed underneath his hat that he mentally classed as a ruby.

Robotnik tapped the throne again, “I think I should check with her, just to make sure.”

“I dropped her off at the hospital. They’re operating on her now, your magnificence. She’s under anaesthetic.”

Robotnik glared at him, “Convenient.”

“Well, she is one of your best agents, sir. She’d have died without it.”

Robotnik just growled, “Get out of my sight, you worthless piece of purple shit.” As Nack hurried out, Robotnik tapped his throne. Of course he already knew about Loader being in hospital. It’d be about two days before they’d finished patching her up and she’d regained conciousness. She’d be lucky if they could save her vision in both eyes, but it didn’t matter too much, he could replace them easily.

What mattered was her being able to give him her side of the story when she woke up. Nack didn’t know much from the look of things, and Cur would always try to make her look bad in a story.

~~~

Two Days Later… Hmmm… Possibly Three…

Breech opened her eyes.

“Where… am I?”

“Quiet. You got hurt rather badly, and we’ve been patching you up.”

“I can’t see…”

“There are bandages over your eyes,” The disembodied voice continued, “When you came in you looked more dead than alive. Those river rapids managed to fracture some of your metal bones, so we replaced them. And you were rather badly cut up too, so we stitched up your open wounds after that. We’ll be taking your stitches out in a couple of days. That way, most of your cuts will heal up and not leave any scars.”

Breech hesitated, “What do you mean, most?”

“Well, your face got a rather nasty knock – you nearly lost your left eye. We didn’t sew it up because Robotnik wanted you to lose it so that you’d need to have a robotic one-”

“YOU WHAT?!” Breech sat up and pulled off the bandages. For a few seconds her vision was blurry, but she managed to focus.

“You didn’t lose your sight in that eye?” asked the robotic nurse.

“No, you bastard!”

“You should rest it. Straining it could cause further damage-“

“Mirror.”

“It’s just a little mark, you’d barely-“

“I said, give me a fucking mirror!”

The robot nurse handed Breech a mirror, and she looked at her face, “You call that a little mark?!” she shrieked, hurling the mirror against the wall, where it smashed, “It goes right down my face!”

“You should rest, we still have to take out your stitches.”

Breech looked down at the stitches on her leg, and her arms, and pretty much everywhere, “Blow it out your shiny, metal ass! I’m gonna go talk to Robotnik about this!”

She pulled on a dressing gown and stamped out of the room, furious. Her fingers rested on the ugly scar that now ran all the way down her face. For some reason, she immediately thought of James.

She looked at her reflection in the metal wall unhappily. How he must hate her now – now he knew she was dirty and pathetic and violated… She could remember how his lips felt against hers, but she knew in her heart that now she would never feel it again.

She knew she was crying too.

She ran home, and threw herself down on her tattered couch, bursting into tears. Only a few nights ago James had slept on it. Why was she getting this way over a guy? She’d never felt this way before, not even with Nack. James was different…

She started to cut out the stitches with a pair of nail scissors. It was surprisingly less painful than she’d expected. She must still be a little doped from the anaesthetic.

“Breech? Baby, are you in?”

“Nack?” Breech continued to pick out the stitches, “Go away.”

“Breech, this is really important! I can’t shout it to you through the door! Come on, I followed you home!”

“Stalker…” Breech muttered, and dropped the scissors on the floor. She went to the door and opened it. Nack burst through.

“Breech? Are you okay? I heard that you were blinded, then I heard that you were dead, then I heard that you were roboticised and then-“

“I’m fine, Nack,” Breech sighed, hugging herself.

The intercom voiced up, “Breech! Get to the main room now!”

“But I’m not even dressed-“

“NOW!!! And bring your weapons!”

Breech groaned, “Damn him… I expect it’s to do with that rotten nearly dying thing.”

“Look, about the nearly dying thing-“ Nack started.

“Come on, we’ve got to hurry,” Breech sighed, “Got a spare Electrobar on you? I lost mine in the river.”

“Sorry,” said Nack, “I got a big knife though.”

“Okay. Thanks for saving my life, anyway,” said Breech, “I owe you one.”

They hurried down corridors and across street and to the main throne room. There were about a hundred cultists in it, twenty or so mercs – the rest were out on missions - and Robotnik sat firmly on the throne.

“Yes, your royal roundness?” Breech asked, bowing.

“Breech,” a slow, smooth voice behind her spoke, and she turned quickly.

“CUR!” she screamed.

“You are quite the survivor, baby,” Cur smiled evilly, placing a paw on her shoulder, “And I have to say, I love the new scar,” he trailed his finger down her cheek

“You gave me it!” Breech snarled, throwing Cur’s paw back at him.

“Aw, poor Breechy, you’re feeling bad about me trying to kill you?” Cur grinned, and gripped her wrists, “This is the only one I want.”

“What in hell are you talking about, you… monster?” Breech asked him, furious, “And why couldn’t you have just died on that cliff?!”

Cur leant in close, turning to face her fully. For the first time she realised that he had a new eye, a cyborg eye, “Well, it just so happened that those nice cultist guys helped me over that cliff. Then they gave me this cool new eye. It allows me to see heat sources.”

Cur’s mechanical eye stared at her breasts as he leered. Then he slammed her up against the wall, grinding his hips against hers. She wrestled against him furiously, and he chuckled.

“So I did them a favour in return – I let them into the weapons warehouses.”

Breech watched, shocked, as the cultists pulled weapons from their robes, “Traitor!” she screamed at the fox.

“Like I haven’t heard that before,” Cur laughed.

The mercenaries in the throne room were already drawing their weapons. It was not in the least hopeless – twenty skilled fighter psychos versus one hundred unskilled cultist psychos – but Breech was not keen on hanging around to see who was going to win.

“I thought the cultists were a bunch of nuts,” Cur whispered into her ear, “Then they showed me their clever little gems, and you know, seeing my worst nightmare quite changed my mind. Now come on… I bet you can’t wait to get out of that stifling dressing gown-”

“Let go of me, you damn pervert!” Breech screamed, and kneed Cur squarely in the groin. As he doubled over in pain, cursing loudly, she pulled loose, grabbed Nack’s wrist, and ran.

The cultists were swarming like flies now, grabbing Robotnik. All of the mercs were trying to get out of the place - they weren’t paid for this.

Robotnik looked at the carnage around him, “Loader! Nack!” he shouted as seven cultists grabbed him, “Save me! SAVE ME!!!”

Breech and Nack looked at each other, then back at the overly obese ruler, “Why?” asked Breech.

Then they ran like the cowardly bastards they were.

~~~

“I have to get my shit!” Breech wailed as they ran, “Otherwise I’m dead anyway!”

“Okay, you keep it back your place, right? We’ll pick it up along with your other stuff, and get the HELL out of here.”

They kept running. Breech kept seeing buildings on fire, and Mercs fighting cultists. It was like Hell had become industrialised. They were already being chased by cultists already. When they got back to her apartment, it was on fire.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Breech screamed, “My drugs are in there!”

She kicked in the door and ran into the fire.

“Breech, you crazy bitch!” Nack screamed at her back. He felt like he waited forever for her to come out. He knew a braver and more stupid guy would go in after her, but then they’d both die. Besides, he respected her abilities.

Breech burst out of the building, one paw clutching a clear plastic bag filled with a blue liquid, the other a packet of sterilised needles. The hospital gown was on fire, and she was slapping at it to put it out.

“Where’s your weapons? And your clothes?” asked Nack.

“Oh, yeah…” Breech turned to look back at the building, which was just collapsing in on itself, “Damn.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta run!” Nack prompted her, “My motorcycle’s only a block from here!”

“Wait! Wait for me!” a wretched voice wailed. Breech and Nack turned to look at Snively, who was running towards them, perused by cultists and mercs, “Please!”

“Aw, hell, James’ turned me soft,” Breech grumbled, “Come on, he might come in useful at some point.”

With that, she picked up the short Overlander and threw him over her shoulder, and continued running with Nack.

The weasel leapt onto his heavy-duty motorcycle, and Breech followed, “Just head East!” she shouted at him.

“Where are we going?!” Nack shouted back at her.

“Knothole Refugee Camp!” Breech shouted, “I have to get Keith, and that’s the only place I can think he’d be!”

“Knothole?” Snively wailed, “I can’t go there! They’ll kill me!”

“That’s nothing compared with what I will do to you if you don’t,” Breech replied, “You’re stuck with us, Snively. We all are.”

~~~

End Of Chapter Twenty-Two

Harley: Breech is alive!

Froggy: Well, you didn’t think we’d kill her off, did you?

Harley: Come on, people! Review! Breech is alive! Say something about that!