DISCLAIMER: I don't own the rights to these characters or to the
Highlander world. They belong to Davis Panzer Productions or to Rysher,
I assume.
This is a prequel to another Lyric Wheel story of mine, "Empire
of Dirt."
Desert Mirage
Life is more and that would be the vacant space
The cried out tears and a never ending maze
"Eventually everyone comes to Las Vegas."
Duncan had heard that somewhere. It sounded
friendly, like a reunion. The reality, he found was that Las Vegas was
crowded and impersonal, filled with other people having a good time - people
who didn't know him and didn't care to. He had seldom felt so alone.
He walked the Strip, mindlessly, aching, his
heart lurching every time he saw a young man with red hair. Another boy
who wasn't Richie.
Summer lingered late here, and, though the
temperatures were mild now, the dryness was still exhausting. Duncan was
soon overheated and thirsty. He ignored his discomfort; some part of him
welcomed the punishment. Maybe if he walked far enough he'd reach open
desert. There he could really suffer.
His purposeless steps brought him to the Mirage
hotel/casino, where pedestrian traffic halted before a large cone landscaped
to resemble a volcano. Sparks flew from its mouth and water cascaded from
the top, lit with red lights to make it resemble flowing lava.
Mirage. If only it had been a mirage. He couldn't
have really killed Richie. That just wasn't possible. But Duncan had only
to close his eyes to recall the boy's Quickening - young, earnest, loyal,
overly self-conscious energy. Pure Richie. God, how it had hurt. How it
still hurt.
Duncan entered the Mirage, where the artificial
chill of air- conditioning grated over his skin. The flow of people took
him into an atrium filled with tropical plants - some real, some convincing
fakes. He wondered if anyone ever killed a real tree by trying to remove
one of the fakes.
He steered his way past hundreds of cheerful
tourists, not one of whom made eye contact with him, and found a bar, a
raised area at the edge of the main casino floor, darker than the tables,
lit mainly by the flickering light from the ceiling mounted television
set showing American football. The bartender said nothing when Duncan ordered
two glasses of water, and he served them over ice. These desert dwellers,
Duncan reflected, must be accustomed to drinking water - the best cure
for this life-sucking dryness.
The thrill of an immortal presence only caused
him to order a Scotch.
Loneliness is never waiting by the door
It sweeps right through and it will never be ignored
Someone took the stool beside him and he glanced
over to see Amanda. There were a few times in his life when he had actually
been glad to see Amanda, and now there was a new one.
"Amanda!" he exclaimed.
"Hello Sweetie," she said, gravely. "How are
you?"
Her concern was too intense - not the usual
offhand thief. She did not touch him.
"You heard," Duncan said.
"Now Duncan, I don't want you to worry," she
said, squirming a little, "but you can't go back to Paris." Her liquid
eyes studied him, deep concern and a healthy portion of fear lurking in
them. "Joe and Methos didn't deal with the body in time, and there was
forensic evidence implicating you."
"Where are they?" he asked, dully.
"Oh, around. We followed you here. Joe knows
how to do that, after all. We thought someone should."
"Make sure I didn't kill anyone else?"
"Oh, Honey, I think lots of immortals lose
it eventually. It's the life. Or the quickenings, I don't know. Killing,
fighting, always afraid. Now, don't worry about them. Joe has requested
a transfer. He's going to Watch me. Won't that be a party? Look, they didn't
want me to talk to you, but I just had to warn you, for old times' sake,
you know? You're wanted by the police. You don't dare use your accounts.
So, here, I'm returning a gift you gave me. She slid an exquisite diamond
bracelet off her wrist and pushed it across the bar to him. "Diamonds are
a girl's best friend. You can find buyers for them almost everywhere."
"Amanda."
"Yes, Sweetie?"
"Do you believe demons exist?"
Amanda's eyes filled with tears. "Of course
I do, Duncan. A demon made you kill Richard. I know that. Now, I have to
go. My new boyfriend is here with me, and he's expecting me. I just had
to see you to say good-bye." Eyes brimming over, she blew him a kiss, gathered
her handbag, and hurried from him.
Duncan reached for the bracelet, turning it
over in his fingers. He did not remember giving it to her.
Loneliness is always looking for a friend
It found me once and it has been around since then
Four Scotches later, he felt the immortal presence
again, and was not surprised when the seat beside him was occupied, as
it turned out, by Methos.
"Long time no see," Duncan said, staring straight
ahead.
"The last time was not a very good day. Particularly
not for Richie."
Even in his inebriated state, Duncan felt
that blow. He looked at the other immortal in some shock. "Have you come
to take my head?"
Methos looked thoughtful. "I think we both
know how a duel would turn out. But if you're offering again?"
Before Duncan could answer, his eye was caught
by a small figure staring at him from across the circular bar. Her gaze
was one of shocked recognition, though Duncan's
muzzy memory couldn't quite place her. As he stared, she moved around the
bar, toward him, never taking her gaze from him. By the time she reached
his side, Duncan had remembered her. She was the reluctant psychic who
had predicted Tessa's death.
"Mr. MacLeod?" she asked, wide-eyed.
The immortal presence faded, and Duncan looked
at Methos's empty stool, then back at the girl. "Where did he go?" he asked
her drunkenly.
"Who?"
"The man who was sitting here."
"There was no one sitting there. I didn't
see anyone."
Loneliness knows everything I keep inside
My endless thought in the silence of the night
She sat, tentatively. "You didn't call," she
said.
Duncan pondered muzzily, trying to figure
out why Methos had left and what she could possibly mean. His head hurt.
She waved the bartender's inquiry away.
"Your fiancée? You were going to let
me know?" She wore a halter top with stars and crescent moons on it, and
her headband was a tiara with rhinestones in the shape of a pentagram.
But under the trappings, her face was pale in the eternal casino twilight,
her eyes wide and worried.
"She died," he said, oddly relieved that she
asked about a tragedy which was not his current one.
She winced, but nodded, her small mouth tight-lipped.
She gave him a glance he couldn't quite interpret - nervous or worried.
She reached into a handbag and produced a well-worn deck of tarot cards.
He watched with little interest as she turned up cards and placed them
on the bar.
"You're not afraid of your gift any more,"
he commented, taking a swig of scotch.
"It scares me shitless," she answered. "But
denying my destiny only makes it worse."
Duncan tipped back the last of his scotch.
"D'they tell you I'm chosen to be a champion
against a great evil?" he asked, indicating the cards. "Cause I don't want
to hear that one again."
Her face turned up to regard him, a tiny earnest
circle of light contrasting with the dark backdrop of the bar. "Then you
know," she said.
"Sure, I know," he replied, signaling the
bartender for another scotch. "Old story."
The girl frowned at him doubtfully and then
studied the cards again. "There are really big forces all around you. Destruction,
illusions, death. Also rebirth and true friends ..."
"True friends!" Duncan cried. "Tha's a joke!
You better go back to dealer school. All my fren's have left me."
"No," she said thoughtfully, "they've stood
by you at incredible risk to themselves. Or they will. But right now all
you can see is loneliness."
The bartender brought the new Scotch, but
Duncan didn't feel like drinking just then. He regarded it morosely. "What
should I do?" he asked.
She turned up another card, and answered promptly.
"You should leave here, for sure."
"And go where?"
"Somewhere good, you know, spiritual. My grandmother
always said India was the most powerfully good place she'd ever been. She
went there in the 60s. I'd like to go, sometime. But go somewhere. This
town is strengthening the darkness around you. Something has found you
here."
Abruptly the girl looked up, gazing past Duncan,
and her face, if possible, went even paler. The sense of an immortal burned
Duncan's veins like the Scotch, and, this time, he was vaguely surprised.
He thought he'd known who his next visitor would be.
Cassandra stood there, glaring at the other
woman like a vengeful fury.
Loneliness is the one who made me see
Ain't nobody else who can make a change but me
"Okay, I gotta go!" gasped the little psychic,
and she scrambled out of her seat.
"Wait, don't ..." Duncan said, but it was
too late. She fled the bar area and was lost to view in the crowd of tourists.
"You're not Joe," he complained to Cassandra,
who was looking a little out of focus. "And why'd you do that to her?"
"Oh, my poor Duncan," she murmured, sliding
into the seat beside him. The same seat that Methos and Amanda had occupied.
"I know these people. They panhandle the gamblers with promises of the
good fortune they'll have at the tables. Please excuse me - as a genuine
sensitive I have little patience with frauds. What did she say to you?"
"Sh'said I'll have good fortune at the tables."
Drunk Duncan might be, but he was certain
the expression which flashed across Cassandra's face was suspicion.
"Is that all?"
"She said I am chosen. Why am I chosen?"
"Duncan, my dear, you're not chosen. You're
an ordinary immortal who's had terrible burdens to bear. Burdens too great.
I'm so sorry. Here," she said, cupping his tumbler in her palm and pushing
it toward him. "Have a drink, my heart."
"Why don't you have one," Duncan grumbled.
"So what are you saying? I've cracked up?"
Cassandra's expression softened into one of
extreme gentleness. "Duncan, what would you say to an immortal who killed
his student? Someone who was delusional and dangerous?"
*Like Cochrane* Duncan thought. His head hurt
and he had a growing desire to visit the Orient. He stood, placed money
on the bar, and put the diamond bracelet in the tip cup.
"Where are you going?"
"Why don't you follow me and find out?"
With no further good-bye, Duncan walked out
onto the casino floor and then out to the Strip. Just up the street, the
crowds were gathering to watch something going on at the Treasure Island.
Apart from the crowd a man in a long coat stood alone - a man who looked
just like Connor MacLeod. Duncan turned away. There was one rejection he
just couldn't take. He began the long walk down the Strip to the airport.
McCarran Airport was a major international
hub. How hard could it be to make a connection to Calcutta?
I have found what only loneliness provides
A strength within knowing I will find
The end
Read the sort-of sequel, Empire of Dirt
The Tarot Cards:
Ace of Swords
The Hermit Five of Pentacles
The Hanged Man
Death
Nine of Wands
Eight of Swords
Knight of Swords
The Devil
The Tower
The Moon
Four of Swords
Eight of Wands
Two of Cups
The song:
Loneliness Knows Me By Name -- Westlife
Loneliness is always looking for a friend
It found me once and it has been around since then
Loneliness is never waiting by the door
It sweeps right through and it will never be ignored
Why, why was I chosen?
Why am I left without?
Chorus
The love of my life, the love that I need
The love that they say is in life for free
The love of dreams, the love that I want
Loneliness knows me by name
Loneliness knows everything I keep inside
My endless thought in the silence of the night
Loneliness is the one who made me see
Ain't nobody else who can make a change but me
Why, why was I chosen?
Why am I left without?
[Chorus]
Life is more and that would be the vacant space
The cried out tears and a never ending maze
I have found what only loneliness provides
A strength within knowing I will find
[Chorus]