April 27, 2011.

A/N: Greetings, Solacers, from the windy beauty of a chilly Melbourne autumn evening!

Yes, it's that time of year when all the leaves explode into violent colour, and now they're all starting to curl and fade to brown. Winter's on the way - we've already got the little-too-on-the-fresh side mornings. It's getting really hard to convince myself to leave my cosy bed. Whoever created the electric blanket, I want your autograph. Fo' serious. XD

Onto more pressing matters. I thought it was about time I sat down and tried to update. Things have been so busy lately; balancing three jobs and a full-time uni load takes a lot more out of you than I expected. o_o

BUT! That's no excuse to blow off my readers, so I'm setting aside some time tonight to give you a little something to chew on before the annual MA update in May. :)

So here's chapter nineteen. Hope y'all enjoy. Snaps to everyone who reviewed; you really made my day. I wasn't expecting such a great response, so thanks a lot for that. :)

Enjoy. x

Searching for Solace

- NINETEEN -

March 18 – 09:42

The doors to the Alfred slid open with a breath of warm air. The calm interior had once been a much-needed relief from their chaotic, adrenaline-fuelled lives, but now it was creepily sinister, foreboding, frightening. Morgan's muscles were tense as she steered a casually-dressed Guan-Yin into the building, her senses alert, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

If they didn't succeed today – if they got caught – they would die.

The truth hung above their heads like a heavy, threatening black cloud that set them all on edge. Amy was jumpy, Nick nervous-looking, Emma just that bit too tense. Even Brody, whose face was normally so impassionate, whose eyes were rarely windows to his emotions, looked wary, with his broad shoulders hunched and his muscly arms shoved in his jean pockets.

After filling Emma in on the happenings of their afternoon, they'd gone to sleep, taking turns watching over Guan-Yin as she lay curled on her mattress. In the morning, they'd forced her into some of Amy's spare clothes – her lithe Asian body was so tiny that anybody else's were ridiculously baggy – and herded her down to the hospital. Now they were about to put their plan into motion, and they were counting on nobody recognising their nervous little hostage.

"Okay," Morgan murmured under her breath, her heart beating in her throat. It was now or never. And never was not an option. "Ready?"

Amy nodded. Daniel jerked his head. Emma glared, but gave a quick, sharp nod.

They split up. Morgan, Daniel and Emma headed for the elevator. Nick, Brody, Amy and Guan-Yin for the stairs. They couldn't risk being in the same place, in case there was trouble. At least if one group was caught, the other might be able to make a getaway.

March 18 – 09:53

Daniel stared tensely down the corridor. It was quiet, mostly deserted. Every few minutes there would come small, innocent noises; voices drifting out of a room, doors opening and closing, a phone ringing. Nothing to be alarmed of. He rubbed his thumbs together habitually. The sooner they got the job done and got out of here, the better. He could hardly wait to be rid of this horrid place, with its dark, traitorous secrets and murderous doctors. God, it was like something out of a horror movie.

"Palmer, get in here," Morgan's voice hissed from behind. They traded places, Morgan's athletic body now garbed in an intern outfit. Her dark hair was hidden in a mesh cap, all but her eyes hidden behind a white mask. She glanced up at him and her eyes darkened at his smirk.

"If you laugh, I swear to God I'll inhabit your ability to reproduce," she snapped in a no-nonsense voice. Daniel held up his hands in a silent peace-offering, swaggering into the small store room. He didn't need to say anything. She knew she looked ridiculous.

Emma, dressed similarly, flashed him a dismissive glance and shoved a folded uniform against his chest. "Say anything and I'll rip your fucking balls off."

Daniel couldn't help but grin. Women. So unnecessarily violent. "Do you mind getting the hell out? Or are you secretly into me?" he asked, deliberately ticking her off. He reached down to lift his t-shirt. It slid up his stomach.

"Fuck off," Emma spat, and stormed out. Daniel was left to change in the silence, with deep satisfaction for company.

Both girls glared hotly when he re-emerged, clothed like them.

Morgan snorted. "And I thought I looked stupid."

Emma gave a short bark of a laugh, and they walked off, their steps in sync. Daniel stared after them, astonished at hteir short-lived unification, if only to team against him. He hadn't thought it possible.

They carefully checked the hospital – floor by floor, room by room – their anxieties gradually building until they were so jumpy that Daniel's sudden shadow against the wall caused them to leap a foot in the air and whirl for an alcove. Emma shot him a furious look, which he assumed stemmed from her embarrassment at being so edgy and easily startled. Morgan chewed her lip worriedly. They were pretty high up now, and they'd checked countless rooms. If they hadn't found Mackenzie yet, then the chances were…

"There," Morgan finally breathed with relief, tension vacating her body so quickly she sagged against the door, her eyes glued to the room behind the glass pane. "We found her. Okay – let's go."

They entered quietly, shutting the door as noiselessly as possible. Morgan was instantly beside Max's stretcher, her face pale with suspense. She raised a shaking hand and hesitated, turning frightened eyes to Daniel. "What if she's…" She couldn't bring herself to say it; her voice caught in her suddenly dry throat. He could see the panic building in her eyes.

"Just do it," he said gruffly. "If we can't save her, we bail ASAP."

There was a long, horrible moment while Morgan slowly pressed her fingertips to Max's throat, searching desperately – hoping…

"She's alive." Morgan was so relieved the second time around that she almost passed out. Daniel – instantly moving into the next phase of their plan – eased her into a chair for a moment and unlocked the stretcher's wheels.

"Get her some water," he ordered. Emma glared at him, glanced at Morgan and gave a scornful snort. But she filled a cup from the tap and shoved it into Morgan's hands nonetheless, wearing a derisive sneer the whole time.

"Pathetic," she hissed, her cerulean eyes glittering. "You're holding us up, you fucking wimp!" Morgan glared.

"Shut up," Daniel snapped, and Emma turned to bite back, but froze. Footsteps were coming along the hall. Morgan sucked her water anxiously, her eyes wide as saucers in her fear. But to their immense fortune, the footsteps kept going.

This time, reminded by the crucial element of time, they all leaped into action.

March 18 – 10:13

"How much longer?" Amy whispered, ducking her head back into the dimly-lit corridor. The linoleum floor squeaked loudly, so they knew well in advance whenever someone was approaching.

"I think she's nearly done," Brody's voice replied. Amy licked her lips, glancing up and down the corridor once more. Then she retreated back into the tiny, cold room.

It was very similar to the store room on the third floor – where they'd run into Guan-Yin – and yet, somehow, this room felt so much more sinister – much more dangerous. At the back of the room, her nose buried in the industrial refrigerators, Guan-Yin was carefully filling a small esky with trays neatly lined with tiny vials. She was murmuring to herself in Chinese – probably praying, or begging for forgiveness, or something. She clearly didn't understand that what she was doing was for good, not evil.

"Look," Amy began patiently, watching Nick pacing quietly, his tongue toying with several of the silver piercings in his bottom lip, she could see the movement behind his mask, "I really don't want to pressure you, but we're running out of ti–"

The door opened abruptly, and they all whirled.

"What are you doing in here?" A white-coated doctor frowned heavily at them. Amy felt like she was going to be sick. They'd stopped listening. Why had they stopped listening? She registered the panic freezing her friends in their shoes, and heard her mouth running on auto-pilot.

"A doctor sent us," she blurted, realising afterward how ambiguous and shifty she sounded. It didn't help that they were in plain clothes. She wished they'd swabbed some intern outfits, like the others.

The frown deepened, the eyes above the white mask narrowed. "Which doctor?" She could hear the suspicion in his voice, knew he suspected – he might already know. They were gone – finished. In a few seconds, their game would be up. The truth was practically shouting him in the face. Intruders…

"Dr. Stevens!" she cried breathlessly. "For… for…"

"For surgery," Brody came to her rescue, in a surprisingly calm voice. "The, uh, surgery… you know."

They sounded like complete idiots. Surely it was painfully – agonisingly – obvious they were bluffing. Doctors couldn't be this dense. They couldn't. She waited for him to shout, to jump them, to call their bluff and – what? Kill them on the spot?

He surveyed them for a long, terrifying moment. Amy held her breath without realising, her heart hammering violently in her chest. Any second now – any second…

"Wait here," the doctor said, staring carefully at them all in turn. It didn't look like he believed them. Oh no – oh no – oh no! "I'll get Dr. Stevens. If any of you moves a muscle…" It was a dark threat, and Amy was absolutely terrified.

The moment the door swung shut, there was carefully maintained pandemonium.

"Now what do we do?" Brody growled, his eyes actually frantic for once. "We're screwed. We're so screwed. We're practically dead men walking."

"No, no there has to be an answer," Amy wailed in a whisper, her hands clapped to her face. "There has to be something we can do. This can't be the end."

"Keep packing," Nick commanded in his low, dispassionate voice. He was staring solidly at Guan-Yin. She nodded frightfully and, with trembling fingers, packed the last few trays into the esky. Nick slammed the lid down and tucked the box under his arm. Amy stared at him, stunned and impressed. "Now," Nick said, turning to the others, his grey eyes hard, "We run."

March 18 – 10:16

The second the alarm started ringing, Morgan knew something had gone terribly wrong. Somehow, the others had gotten into trouble. She glanced at Emma and Daniel, sharing a frightened, knowing look with them.

Time to move.

They wheeled Max's stretcher as smoothly and quickly as possible into the elevator, trying not to look as though they were running, though that was basically what everyone else in the building was doing. Nurses and doctors raced around in all directions, some expressions worried, frightened or alarmed, others stern, irritated, sharp. They kept what little of their faces showed as expressionless as possible as the elevator doors slid shut, and breathed sighs of relief when it started its smooth descent.

"The moment those doors open," Daniel muttered, "We get her out of here. No looking back."

"We can't just leave them," Morgan argued.

"That was the deal," Emma said sharply. "Get over it, or die with them."

Morgan felt her heart turn to ice. She shuddered. Emma's ruthlessness was so shocking – so crude. She seemed almost as uncompassionate to others as that strange man she'd seen back at Box Hill, in Max's room. As cold and selfish as their hated enemies – was she no better than them?

The doors slid open, and Morgan choked on a gasp of horror.

There he was. Right there, in the corridor. Like clockwork, like he'd followed a cue. Looking at them – at her – like he knew who she was. Like he'd heard her thoughts or read her mind. Only now he was in the broad light of the industrial ceiling lights, and she could see him very clearly. And for the first time, the young humans caught a glimpse of their enemy. Daniel swore softly.

His skin was whiter than snow and had an odd sheen to it – like silk, Morgan decided. His eyes – so very catlike and long-lashed – were the brightest, most alluring silver, like the stars, or liquid titanium, with black pupils so enormous she felt as though she could fall into them and be swallowed up. Like an endless dark void. The hair falling over his chalk forehead was of the deepest turquoise, tumbling down his back in carefully messy waves. He was strangely effeminate and yet so very, very masculine, with his broad shoulders and hard muscles. He was dressed in what looked like a Japanese dojo outfit – like a jet black karate uniform. But his ears – his ears. They were long and pointed, like elf ears. In fact, his lithe, slender-limbed figure was very elfin-like; graceful and beautiful, and extremely deadly – absolutely lethal. Designed for a proficient, effortless kill. Morgan shuddered surreptitiously, but couldn't look away from his eyes – those magnetic, enchanting eyes.

And he stared right back at her. Her heart constricted terribly in her chest. He would recognise her – he would remember her. He'd let her get away last time, but he wouldn't this time. She was sure of it. She could feel it. This man was utterly mirthless. He would kill in cold blood.

But he glanced away dismissively, and she realised that what had felt like a long, torturous minute had, in fact, only been an instant. He – whoever he was – hadn't even glanced down at Max. That was, perhaps, what saved them right then. Their ridiculous, hideous intern uniforms.

"Keep moving," Daniel muttered from behind her, and Morgan's senses kicked back into gear. Trying to force away how shaken she was by the sight of their enemy, she helped Daniel and Emma wheel Max out of the lift and into the corridor. They immediately turned away from the – what were they called again? What had Dr. Shirogane called them? She couldn't remember. But he was bad news – they could all sense it, she realised, and it was instinctive for them to move away from him. As they tried their very hardest not to run with Max, a frightening thought struck Morgan. What if there were more of them? What if he wasn't the only one?

As they wheeled Max further along the corridor, glancing down every turn off in hopes of discovering a miraculous exit somewhere, Morgan couldn't help but look over her shoulder.

And that was her terrible mistake.

He was standing at the door to the elevator, his face turned, his expression hidden. But then he looked up slowly, throwing a casual glance after them, and his eyes locked once more with hers, narrowing with the tiniest, suspicious twitch. Ice cascaded through her body, and she whipped around again, hoping she hadn't just given them away. Her heart thudded in her ears as her brain tried to rationalise what it had just witnessed.

Because it couldn't have happened – the laws of physics simply couldn't allow it – it wasn't possible.

He simply couldn't have disappeared on the spot.

"Go, go, go!" she urged wildly, feeling that something absolutely terrible was about to happen, and knowing – with a sick, awful sense of foreboding – that she was right.

And they broke into a run.

A/N: No cultural notes this time. Weird. Oh well.

Well, well. Look who's finally made a shockingly unexpected return! Our malicious, silver-eyed Cyniclon friend! Enemy? I like to think he's my friend, so we'll go with frenenemy. XD

Anyway. What does his reappearance symbolise? What dramatic turns of events will he bring with him? Will they be able to escape and save Max? Will the Amy and Brody crew survive, or will they be caught? Who knows? I do! And so will you, if you read on!

Review button's just there. ;)

Until the next update, minna,

Cherrie xx