Paul Kane - Broken Arrow

"Tate, I could use some help," Robert growled over his shoulder, struggling with the man. The Reverend was standing there, gaping.

Geoff and Lewis were racing to assist, but somehow the Servitor had managed to worm one leg free and he brought that up and kicked the Ranger in the face, sending Lewis crashing backwards into the wall.

Robert took one hand off the prisoner to punch him, but the man took the blow without even flinching. Absently, he wondered what Eric Meadows would have done in this situation: would even he have been able to secure this charge? The next thing Robert knew, the strap across the Servitor's chest was in two halves and he was rising, yanking free to attack the other bonds with the knife. When Geoff tried to stop him, he broke off to plant the knife in him up to the hilt, then pull it out again. Geoff looked down to see a bloom of crimson stain his top, then his feet buckled and he fell.

Robert was on his own.

This shouldn't be so difficult. I took a handful of them down back in York . But something was different. Whether it was the confines of the room, or the fact the Servitor appeared to be drawing on reserves of energy that could power this entire city for a week, he couldn't decide. One thing was for sure, if the cultist got free of the table-

And then it was done. The Servitor was standing. He was still staring at Tate, however, still had him in that hypnotic trance. Lewis was spark out, Lucy had retreated to the corner of the room — what Robert wouldn't have given for it to be Mary here instead now, or even Gwen! — and he didn't even know if Geoff was still alive

Robert kept the table between them. It was too small a space to use the bow and arrow, and the same went for his sword — one swing and he might end up hurting one of his own. No, this fight was going to be a nasty one: scrappy, clumsy. He hated that.

"I can't let you leave," Robert told him. "You know that."

The Servitor cocked his head, turning finally to face Robert — but in the process caught sight of himself in the mirror just beyond. He paused, frozen just as Tate had been moments before. Then he took the knife and drew it over his own throat. The blood sprayed across the table, across the room, and Robert held up his arm to shield his eyes. Remarkably, when he took it down again, Robert saw the man was still standing, thick gouts of red spurting from the wound at his throat, those cold, dead eyes now fixed on him.

Then he dropped face forward onto the table, almost upending it. Robert gaped at the scene. His mind couldn't quite take in what had happened. Why had this man struggled so hard to get free, only to take his own life? But then he remembered the other bodies down in the room on the ground floor, remembered what the Servitor had said about sacrificing themselves to their master.

Robert looked over at Tate, who seemed to be snapping out of his daze. "Evil faced itself," the Reverend whispered.

There was a groan from the floor. Geoff! Robert skirted round the table to see him laying there, blood welling from the wound in his chest. He applied pressure to it, then shouted again for Lucy. This time she came, tentatively and still holding her own arm, one eye on the man sprawled across the table, as if expecting him to rise at any moment. "Lucy, for Christ's sake!" snapped Robert. Blinking at the wounded man on the floor, she too snapped out of her daze, immediately crouching to help stem the flow of blood.

Robert shouted at Lewis to go fetch help — other personnel who had medical training. "And Mary…" he said. "Send for Mary. Quickly!"

Mary couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

That cow was wearing her coat! It was such a small thing, and there were admittedly few items of female clothing in the castle so it made sense that she should have borrowed it — but it was precisely because of this that Mary was angry. There were precious few things that were hers, only hers. Worst of all, Adele had taken it without even asking.

Though she hated herself for it, Mary wondered what else the woman was intent on taking from her.

What do you want her to do, Moo-Moo, freeze to death out there?

She was tempted to come back with: "Do you really want me to answer that?"

Now, that's really not nice… her brother told her. She'd completely forgotten that whatever she thought, he instantly knew as well. Because he was her, wasn't he? The voice of her conscience, her reason.

I'm bloody well not, you know. I'm me. I'm your brother.

"Oh shut up," Mary said, drawing Adele's attention.

The woman, standing at the bottom of the steps, about to ascend, waved at her. Mary let her head droop, then lifted it again. She didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was upset.

"Mary, hi!" the woman called out, coming over. Reluctantly, she met her halfway.

"Adele."

"I was hoping to run into you. I wanted to say thanks." The woman's eyes sparkled when she spoke. Mary looked puzzled, so she continued: "For this, the coat."

"Oh, yes… That's…" Mary didn't know how to complete that sentence because, until a few moments ago, she had no idea Adele was even wearing it.

"Rob said it would be okay to borrow some of your gear."

My gear? "Did he?"

"Er… yeah. Hope that was okay? You've got a really nice room, you know. Love what you've done with it. Considering. I guess anything's a step up from the forest." Adele smiled, but there was no warmth in it.

"You've been in my… in our room?" What she was really asking was, had Adele been in there alone? Not because she thought her and Robert had snuck off there — apart from the fact he hadn't had time before leaving, Mary did know the man well enough that he wouldn't be able to hide that one. (What about the other night, what about the cosy little drink in the cafe? He still hadn't mentioned that to her.) No, it was just the thought of a complete stranger going through her stuff, poking around, maybe sitting or laying down in the bed she shared with-

"I… I wasn't in there very long," Adele promised, as if that made it all right.

Mary said nothing, but found herself clenching and unclenching her fists.

"Look," Adele went on, "you've all been really nice to me, and I'm so grateful. But, well, there aren't very many women around here, are there? Bit heavy on the testosterone. I suppose I was hoping you and me could be… well, I had hoped we could be friends. You know?"

"You're thinking of staying a while, then," was all Mary could muster.

Adele smiled again. "Thinking about it, yeah, if you guys will have me. Sure beats being out there on the streets, being chased by murderers and rapists."

"Right."

"I hope it isn't going to be a problem or anything?"

"I hope not as well."

Adele frowned. "Forgive me for saying this, Mary, but you seem to have a… I don't know. Have I done something wrong? Something to you?"

Mary felt like saying, "Cut the crap, you know exactly what you've done. And it's what you're going to do when Robert gets back I'm interested in." But instead she said: "No, not exactly."

"Only I'm getting some really weird vibes from you."

Mary shook her head, this wasn't the time or the place. "No, everything's fine. Really."

"Ah, okay." Adele's smile widened, but seemed even less genuine. "Right, well I suppose I'd better go and get ready."

"Ready?"

"I'm having something to eat with Jack."

Now it was Mary's turn to frown. First this woman had been flirting openly with Robert, then she'd caught them having a little late night rendezvous ( It was hardly that, Moo-Moo. Might've been completely innocent. ) now she was making a play for Robert's best friend.