Hello all, I'm trying to get back into by Host fanfic stuff, so I've started working on my long-delayed On the Precipice rewrite.

Chapter 10 – Mercy

"What exactly do you want me to do with this…person?" asked an irritated Simon as he peered down at the sick man laying on one of the hospital's cots.

The Seeker listlessness gazed back up at them with eyes gleaming more with fever than the usual alien silver of the Souls. He was rather pale and sweaty. Whatever was afflicting him had robbed him of most of his strength. It had been a challenge for Kate and Scott to drag him to the hospital. Originally, despite Marc's orders, Kate had wanted to bring Simon to see the two ill aliens in their makeshift jail rooms. But the doctor had insisted he could not leave Mary-Margret or Alexis. Not wanting to fight the all too stubborn Simon, she had given in.

"Well…" began Kate, but realized she wasn't sure what they were supposed to do with the Seeker. Marc had not explained that part of his plan. Typical Walters, she thought, mouthing off before he had a clue what to do next.

"Look," she said after thinking it over, "he's got some of the same symptoms as Mary-Margret. And he's taken their medicine as well. Isn't there something you can learn?"

"Yep," said the doctor briskly, "He's sick, apparently with a disease that's not treatable with Soul medical science." He scowled pointedly at the Seeker and added, "Too bad for you."

The Soul opened his mouth to speak, but only a dry cough came out. He swallowed, the effort painful, for he grimaced and tried again. Scott and Simon exchanged a glance but did not react. Neither wanting to get to close to the sick alien.

Kate shook her head and then pulled out a plastic water bottle from one of the packed boxes ready to be hauled out if they evacuated. She handed it to the Seeker. Surprise flashed on to his clammy face at her offer. He reached for it, almost hesitantly, as if he feared Kate would yank it away. One he had a grip on the bottle, he twisted the top off and quickly began to drink, gulping nearly half the contents in a matter of a few seconds.

"Th…Thank y…you," he said weakly when he had finished. He lay still for a moment, and then he twisted his head to the side to turn his fever-bright eyes on Simon. "Will…you be…torturing…me?"

Simon rolled his eyes scornfully at the question. "I have actual patients that need attending," he informed Scott and Kate while jutting his chin toward Mary-Margret's and Alexi's beds. Pointing a finger down at the Seeker, he added, "Keep him quiet and keep him out of my way."

After Simon had left, Scott gave the Seeker a curious look. "Did you think we brought you here to torture you? Why would we do that?"

With some difficulty, the Seeker rasped his answer, "Why else…would you keep me…alive?"

Scott frowned, "We're trying to understand why people are getting sick. You, that other Seeker, Mary-Margret, and little Alexis are all coming down with the same thing."

"Our medicine…" began the Seeker, but a series of hard coughs cut him off as they shook his whole body. The bottle of water slipped from grasp as he convulsed. Kate caught the bottle, and once his spasming coughs subsided, she helped him with the rest of the water.

"You told me you took some of your medicine before you came into the tunnels," said Kate," but it didn't last, did it?" She walked to over to one of the boxes and rummaged through the contents for a few seconds. Pulling out a bottle of HEAL, she showed it to the Seeker. "We used some of this, but it didn't work for us either."

"Where did…" came the Seeker's weak reply. He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the cot's slim pillow. "It doesn't…matter…This…is not…good."

"You're right," replied Scott. He then huffed out a short a laugh. "What do you know? I agree with a Seeker."

Taking a deep breath, the Seeker then let it out. A moment of calming his afflicted body. His eyes slowly reopened. "Where…is Bright Moon?"

####

Marc yanked Bright Moon along, all but practically dragging her after him. Her arm swelled with pain as his fingers dug into her skin through her uniform. Her arms were still tied behind her back. Marc had only cut the plastic bands that had bound her legs together. It made walking a little easier for her, a small comfort.

Walking along, they once again traveled through the large space she had seen once before. This time Bright Moon got a better look at the vast chamber. At the top of the high ceiling, the still bizarre collection of lights and lamps tied into a large ball hung down by a mass of twisting cords and cables. It was the only point of illumination for the entire rectangular shaped room. Tall walls and the high ceiling all cast in a uniform gray of poured cement. Along the far wall, about halfway to the top, there was a curious set of circular holes. There were metal fittings next to the empty openings, and it looked as if pipes or tubing had run through these holes in the past.

In contrast to the dull grey walls, the floor was covered in a colorful patchwork of throw rugs, carpets, and blankets. Some new and fresh, with little sign of wear, while others were threadbare and nearly falling apart. Strewn about, seemingly at random were pieces of furniture. They passed an old beat up couch, two half broken yard chairs, and then a pristine new wooden table. Further away Bright Moon swore she saw a large oblong chalkboard. An old one, framed by weathered wood which could be pushed around on little wheels. Taking everything in this strange place left her even more confused. What could Marc and his troublesome humans' companions be doing here? Without really meaning to, she spoke her thought out loud.

"What do we do here?" echoed Marc as he pulled her along. "Well, we have interruptive dance competitions." His voice rose in contempt. "What the hell do you think we do here? This is our home."

'Impossible,' Bright Moon told herself. Just more tricks from Marc. Unwaveringly he pulled her along, out of the enormous room, down a narrow ramp and into a twisting corridor. Here the light came from lamps strung along at regular intervals, casting the tunnel in intervals of light and shadow. The passageway's walls were composed of timeworn bricks. Their red color had faded to a dull brown, and the mortar between them showed considerable signs of wear and tear. But parts of the wall showed signs of recent repair. New bricks and cement had begun to replace the crumbling old ones. She found herself forced to reevaluate her original impression. Far more was going on here than a few humans taking refuge in the underground of Chicago.

As they went along, she found herself asking, "How did you hide all of this from us?"

Marc glanced over to her and replied with a small smile, "Hard work. Patience. A little bit of luck." His smile grew a notch. "There's a bit more to the story, but I'm not going to tell you all of our trade secrets."

"It is…more than I would have thought you and your people capable."

His smile dropped away, and his voice grew cold. "Yes, we monkeys can do all sort of tricks."

She had not meant her comment as an insult. She was rather impressed. But as usual, Marc was an unreasonable human. Anger and violence were the only things he understood. She wondered where they were going. Regretfully the only destination she could come up with was Marc was taking her to where he planned to kill her.

Escape. She had to try.

Bright Moon noticed Marc had become very distracted as they approached a bend in the tunnel. His grip on her arm was now loose, and his eyes were unfocused as they walked. He seemed to be deep in thought. Just as they turned, she abruptly pulled against him, twisting her arm as far as the restraints on her wrists would allow. Momentarily taken off guard, he tried to regain his grasp, but she was both quick and desperate, and she broke free.

"Hey!" came Marc's surprised shout. But she was already running down the passageway as fast as she could run. She had no idea where the tunnel led, but for now, she solely focused on getting away from that wretched Human. She dared not turn back, less she slowed herself down. With her hands still tied behind her back, her stride was thrown off balance. It made running difficult.

"Get back here!" bellowed Marc over the sound of his feet smacking against the floor of the tunnel as he began running after her.

Turning right at an at joining intersection, she found the regular stringing of bulbs lighting the way were dropping off. She could only hope it meant the Humans did not use this passageway. With a dimming light, she nearly missed the wrought iron rungs of a ladder on the right side of the curved tunnel. They lead upward into a very narrow dark hole.

The sounds of pursuit echoed from they way she just ran. The hole was barely more than a crack in the ceiling of the tunnel. But without any better options, Bright Moon stepped on to the ladder and began to climb. With her arms behind her back, it quickly proved very challenging. Balancing with only her legs, she shakily she managed to get up five whole rungs. Her head and shoulders pushed into the narrow tunnel. Its surface was cool and moist, and a steady flow of cold air hit her face. Two more steps and then one of her arms caught against the side, wedging in her place. She wiggled back and forth, trying to free herself.

Laughter floated from behind her. "What do you think you're doing? That's an air vent. You'll never climb up that."

Bright Moon struggled even harder, desperate to free herself and get away from Marc. She managed a few inches when she felt a hand wrapped around her leg. She froze. Although she had managed to crawl into the hole, her legs were still exposed in the tunnel below

"Stuck?" asked Marc. His voice dripped with smug humor.

An actual growl came out of her throat. It surprised her. Bile began to build in her stomach. She felt sick. She could never get away from this monster. Then Marc's hand wandered up her leg to her thigh, and a shriek began to start in her throat.

"Here, let me help…"

Another hand joined the other already on her body. She cried out, but her scream was cut off as he yanked downward. Her arm still caught scrapped painfully against the gap's side. She tried to kick him off, but his grip was too strong. She dropped a whole step down, and her arm twisted free from its confinement. She dropped another two steps. Flailing with her legs, she managed to knock Marc off balance. His grip on her lessened and suddenly they were both falling down with a loud crash onto the floor of the tunnel.

Pain spread all over her body. With muscles aching, she struggled back to her feet, but Marc faster. He jumped up and pushed her against the wall of the tunnel. She pushed back, fighting roughly against him. He grabbed her by her arm and twisted her around. He leaned forward pressing his right arm into her back, pinning her against the wall.

Rage built up in her body until it seemingly exploded from her body. "Just finish this!" she found herself screaming.

Marc's voice started with an angry reply but then broke in confusion. "You…What!?"

"Kill me. I know you want to do it. Stop these endless games you play. The sadistic fun you have at finding new torments for me."

He spun her around and was so close now, only an inch or two from her, his face a cloud of dark anger. "Is it so hard to believe I don't get enjoyment from killing, or torment, or fighting with you!"

"You say that, but your actions prove that false!" she yelled back him.

"Oh really!? You are going to lecture me on torments, huh? How about hunting us like animals, how about closing off every way of getting food and starving us, how about your 'disposal' of humans that don't make a good 'host'?" growled Marc.

She bit back at his argument. "I take no enjoyment from those actions."

"Well, your actions prove that false," mocked Marc, "because you sure had no problem doing them. Hell, not an hour ago you were trying to cut me open and stick one of you into me. Tell me you were not happy to wipe me out!"

She kicked off against the wall with her legs, trying to knock him off-balance. But Marc simply countered by pulling abruptly back. With his weight gone she found herself tipping forward. Her hands were still tied she, and there was nothing she could do to stop herself. Once again, she hit the hard floor of the tunnel.

From above her Marc observed, "Pretty angry for a Soul."

Bright Moon rolled on the floor, not wanting to look at him. How she hated him. "You do this to me, Marc Walters." She pushed herself up to a half sitting position and felt a few hot tears rolled down her cheeks. "You do everything in your power to aggravate me, humiliate me, and cause me pain. Yes," she admitted, "I did take pleasure in trying to end you, just like a human would. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

Marc's voice came from behind her. "That you want to kill me, no can't say I'm happy to hear it. But at least your being truthful about your feelings instead of giving me some bullshit line about it being for the greater good."

She shook her head slowly. Her head ached, but it was not from pain. She was tired. So tired of all of it. Her constant fight with the humans. With Marc. "And do you not want me dead? You can honestly say you would take no pleasure from my final death?"

Still on the ground, she turned and looked up at him. Surprisingly, his expression matched hers. Marc did not appear angry or mocking. His eyes betrayed a deep weariness. With his arms crossed, he leaned up against the sloped side of the tunnel. He spoke quietly, "Ask me an hour ago and I would have probably said yes. But now I have a problem." And then with some difficulty, he amended, "I think we have a problem."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"People here are starting to come down with…something," replied Marc. "The flu or some sort of illness. My people. Your people. It all seems to be the same thing."

Bright Moon wondered if this was just another trick. It could be. But for once Marc words did not carry his typical disdainful tone or had his lips peeled back in a jeering smile. He looked…worried. She cocked her head to one side and said, "Our mutual hatred aside, my people will learn of my discovery in these tunnels. They'll be here in force soon. Surrender, and we will have healers take care of your people who are ill."

Marc let out a long sigh. "Come with me and see for yourself." He reached down to grab her, but she pulled away. Trying to keep her distance. His eyes grew hard. "Don't fight me."

Dreading more painful yanking of her arm, she kept pushing away with her feet against the floor, scampering further down the dimly lit tunnel. "Stay away. It hurt when you grabbed me. It felt like you were pulling my arm off."

"I…" began Marc, but then he stopped himself and let another sigh. A longer and more pained one. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I won't yank so hard. But you can't go running off. There are parts of these tunnels that are dangerous to enter."

She stopped her retreat. "Or I might get away."

A flicker of a smile crossed his lips. "Unlikely…Bri. You're far off the map. You'd never find your way back to the surface without one of us helping you."

Some of her fatigue fell away. More mocking titles from Marc. She rose back to her feet. "I found your fake wall. I found your hidden tunnels you travel by. I could do it," she challenged him.

"Which is why I've tied you up. Because Bri, you are the biggest pain-in-the-ass Seeker in the entire universe."

Oddly instead of getting annoyed at his sarcastic insults, she felt the stirrings of amusement in her body. "Are you trying to give me a compliment?"

The grin that had been slowly inching its way up Marc's face vanished. "Simply stating the obvious. Now come on."

Marc took hold of her again. But as he had promised his grip was not so tight, nor did he wrench her arm as he led her back into the brightly lit portion of the passageway. And she did not try to fight him. They walked at a steady pace, both silent. As they took yet another turn, Bright Moon got the impression they were gradually rising. The tunnel had a slight slope to it. Then in the distance, resonating from up somewhere up ahead she caught the sound of a deep rumbling. She felt it as vibration through the stone floor more than hearing it.

"What is that?" she asked Marc.

"An L train," answered Marc, referred to Chicago's subway system. "One of the tracks is a couple of levels above us. "

Bright Moon realized this meant they were indeed deep underground. Marc was not lying about escape being difficult. Given the twist and turns they had already traveled, Bright Moon was uncertain she could even find her way back to the massive room they had just come left. More and more questions began to form. Just how big was the Humans' base? How many were hiding here? It was becoming clear they had been living here for a while. Why did they remain? Why did Marc start to attack the city? And why was he trying to convince her of some sickness running amok?

At last the twisting tunnel ended, and they entered a bigger and broader space. While not nearly as big as the other chamber the humans had, this room also stretched out in a long rectangular shape. It had a curved ceiling stretching up high above, formed from featureless gray cement. The top gradually arched downward to meet stubby brick walls on the right and left sides of the room. The far side was nothing more than smashed chunks of cement and stones, wedged together to form a broken and uneven wall. Bright Moon guessed someone had filled in part of this room some point in the past. She concluded this place was simply another tunnel, only much larger than the narrow winding pathway the had just exited.

Gazing about, she saw there were more humans here, clustered around two rows of makeshifts cots. These beds had faded green fabric stretched between a thin metal frame resting upon flimsy looking wooden legs. A few were occupied. A young girl laid on the cot farthest from her. Close by a woman with golden blonde hair and a swollen belly crouched near the child, holding her hand. Another held a sleeping old woman dressed in a dark navy-blue dress. Her gray hair pillowed around her pale face. But it was the last occupant of these narrow beds which pulled her complete attention.

"Calm Waters Below," she jolted in surprise. She had been certain she would never see him again. He lay on the cot with his eyes closed and his hands resting on his stomach. His very still face was ashen and waxy looking. For a scant second, she thought his host body was dead, that this was all still a disgusting trick from Marc. But then Calm Waters Below let out a dry cough, and his eyes blinked open.

"Bright Moon!" he croaked as his head turned to the sound of her voice. He let out two more hacking coughs and then tried to rise to a sitting position. He flailed about, weakly moving his body as the rickety cot rocked back and forth.

"Stop it," ordered a petite woman with dark hair hanging down to her eyes. She, along with another human, a thin man with blonde hair, flanked the sides of Calm Waters Below's bed. Both carried guns. The man held a pistol at his side, while the woman had a strap of leather slung around her shoulder, providing a harness for an old, but still very deadly looking rifle. With their weapons at the ready Calm Water Below promptly did as commanded and stopped trying rise from the cot.

Bright Moon found she recognized both from the ambush in the tunnel. The woman was named Kate, but Bright Moon was uncertain of the man's name. Looking them over with an unpleasant sneer, Kate shook her head at Marc while pointing an accusing finger at Bright Moon. "Why did you bring her here?"

Bringing Bright Moon to a stop by Calm Water Below's bedside, Marc answered, "I brought her because she will not believe a damn thing I say. But," and he gestured at the Seeker laying on the bed, "she will listen to him."

"You," he instructed Calm Waters Below, "explain what's going on here." He then gave Bright Moon a grim smile and told her, "You try anything, try run off, or cause me any problems and Kate and Scott here will shoot you." At that, he let her go and marched away, evidently happy to be free of her and headed towards the other beds.

Bright Moon watched as Marc bent down by the old woman sleeping on a nearby cot, then looked to the other humans guarding her, and then down to her friend. The situation was beyond bizarre. Calm Waters Below did indeed look very ill. Back when they captured Marc in the tunnels, she had noticed his body had seemed to be unwell. But he had insisted he was alright and had taken the required medicine. That meant he should be fine, yet he clearly was not.

Despite his weakened body as his apparent ailments, Calm Waters smiled up at her. With some difficulty, he wheezed out, "Bright Moon, I so very glad you are unharmed."

Awkwardly she lowered herself on the cot next to his. She wanted to hold his hand, to try to comfort him in obvious distress. But with her hands still tied, it was impossible. "Please, what is happening here? Did the Humans do this to you?"

With a tiny shake of his head, Calm Waters mustered his strength and managed to turn on his side to face her directly. "No. They didn't do anything to me. Some illness, some form of disease is afflicting us." He made a feeble wave towards the other two occupied beds. "The woman and girl are also sick. Same symptoms as me. Fever. A bad headache. Weakening body…" he trailed off and rested his head on the cot's meager pillow.

Bright Moon leaned close to Calm Waters and lowered her voice. Hopefully, the nearby Humans would not hear. "We need to get you out of here and to a Healer."

"Wait…there's more…" whispered Calm Waters. "I heard the Humans talking…Seeker Allison is also infected…Even worse than me."

"How is that possible? She was fine in the tunnels."

"I don't know…I took COOL before we started…and it didn't last…The Humans' Healer has also tried treating the illness…

"They don't have the right medicine…" she began but broke off as she noticed the contents on a nearby table. White bottles of HEAL, CLEAN, and COOL sat on it. She frowned, "How do they have these supplies?"

Calm Waters Below panted as he struggled to answer. Bright Moon could see hard he was trying to get his words out. Sweat was beading up on his forehead and trickling down his face. She pressed a hand gently on his chest.

"No, it is alright. I understand. Rest my friend. I'll take care of you."

A faint smile managed to make its way on to Calm Waters Bellow's face. His body sagged into the mattress, and his eyes closed, utterly exhausted. It was clear to her that Marc and his ever-constant thievery was the answer to how the Humans had acquired the drugs. That at least made sense to her. But everything else did not. She doubted this was some crazy scheme by Marc. If this illness was truly resistant to their medicine, it represented a dire threat to everyone in the city. With a weary shake of her head, she sat down next to Calm Waters and tried to think on what do next.

####

"Got anything?" asked Marc as he watched Simon moved the stethoscope across Alexis' back.

The doctor was kneeling beside the little girl's cot, listening to her breathing as he gave her a more thorough examination. Simon was determined to try to make sense out of the spreading illness. Behind them, Sara stood fretfully, closely watching over the proceedings. However, Marc had caught her eyes glancing over to the two Seekers. Sarah most certainly did not like them so close to her daughter.

Simon got to his feet and answered. "There no congestion in her lungs. No inflammation or other pain in her stomach. That means it's not respiratory based. Or something she ate. Everything seems tied to her head or neck."

"And that means?" asked Marc.

Simon rubbed the bridge of his nose, deep in thought. "Might be something chemical, causing some neurological issue," he said after nearly a full minute of contemplation. "But with the fever and dehydration, I doubt it. Best guess its a viral or bacterial based infection."

Before Simon could say more a commotion came from the entrance to the hospital. Marc had a sudden stab of fear the Seeker reinforcements Bright Moon claimed were coming had arrived. But it turned out to be Mike and Jason dragging a darkly dressed woman. Another Seeker. She was the tall woman Marc remembered as trying to spray him with the sleeping gas in the tunnels. As Jason and Mike brought her in Marc could see she was bleeding from nose quite profusely and she did not appear conscious.

As they laid the female Seeker out on one of the empty cots, Mike looked over to see Sarah and Alexis. He started in surprise and swiftly went over to his wife and daughter, growing concerned at seeing them in the hospital. Stooping down, he hugged his little girl. And Alexis immediately wrapped her arms around her father in return.

"What's going on?" he asked Sarah

"It's Alexis. She's sick," explained Sarah in a hurried whisper.

Marc could see Mike's body grow rigid in alarm. "What!?"

Simon broke in, irritably glaring at the newcomers. "Sorry to interrupt your interruption," he snapped as he gestured at the unconscious Seeker. "But what the hell is she doing here?"

Jason spread his hands apologetically. "Sorry, Doc," he said. "But didn't know what else to do with her. She started bleeding from her nose again and then went into some type of convulsion." He looked over to Kate and added, "thought she had done a suicide on us for real this time, but she's still breathing."

Scowling, Simon bent down and examined the fallen Seeker. After a few minutes, he got up and went straight to Bright Moon and the other Seeker who had watched all of this in mute horror. "What's your name?" he asked Bright Moon.

"Bright Moon on Fallen Snow," she said slowly, not taking her eyes off the woman.

"And what's her name?" said Simon pointing at the woman.

"Allison."

"Well, Miss Snow, your friend Allison there is showing all the signs of septic shock. Her breathing is shallow, and her pulse is unsteady and dropping. It looks like to me she's fighting a losing battle against one helluva infection. How long has she been like this?"

"She was fine when we entered the tunnels…"

"Well, I find that damn amazing," interrupted Simon. "I would have guessed she had been seriously ill for several days given her vitals." He turned back to Seeker Allison in deep thought. "We're looking at something which can go from infection to near death in just under an hour. Must have the mother of all growth rates. I wonder if it's got an incubation time," he muttered to himself.

"Simon, you mean you can't do anything?" asked Scott.

The doctor looked up from his latest patient to see Scott, Kate, and Jason had taken a few steps away from the three Seekers. They clustered together near Marc and Mike. With now two sick aliens, everyone was keeping their distance. Simon shook his head, "No, nothing, her organs are rapidly shutting down. Even if the," and he paused for a second to glance at the Seekers, "parasites' medicine was working right, it would be too late for her."

Jason, becoming increasingly alarmed at Simon's assertion, "Do we need to decontaminate or something?"

"Bit late for that. By this point, we've been exposed to whatever this is. And if Mary-Margret is any indication, this bug has been here for at least a day."

Sarah clutched on to Mike's arm like she was about to collapse. "What about Alexis? Will she be like…her?" she asked in a weak whisper with an anxious flick of her wrist towards the comatose Seeker.

Simon's face twisted as conflicting emotions fought. Calm reassurance versus the stark reality of facing an unknown and impossible threat. A lie versus the truth. "Look," he said eventually, "Mary-Margret and Alexis have been sick longer than that Seeker. Neither one is bleeding from the nose or in septic shock. So maybe…just maybe this disease reacts differently to the Souls."

Taking a shaky breath, Sarah nodded. "Then Alexis will be alright."

Simon did not reply. Choosing not to give away too much false hope to a desperate mother. But Mike's eyes clouded up in anger. His worries were growing exponentially. "Did the Seekers do this? Set off some bug that got away from them?"

Marc had brought Bright Moon here with the intention of watching her reaction. He considered himself a bit of an expert when it came to Seekers and when they lied. And after watching her surprise at her fellow Seeker's condition, he was certain Bright Moon had no more idea why this was happening than he did.

"I don't think so. This isn't the way they way Seekers do things. Now maybe they might be willing to go kamikaze to take us out, but they'd never do something that put their people in harm's way. Releasing some virus could easily get out their control."

"Marc's right," added Simon as the doctor left the dying Seekers side and returned to his makeshift desk. "Biowarfare is inherently risky. Blowback of a weapon is too big a problem unless you're really desperate."

With his eyes still on his sleeping daughter, Mike asked helplessly, "Then what the hell is going on?

But no one had an answer, and everyone drifted in an uncomfortable silence. Marc sat down on the cot next to Mary-Margret. The old nun's eyes were closed, and breathing came in slow, even breaths of deep sleep.

He took her and held it in a light grip as tried to work out what to do next. Time was running out before more Seekers showed up in the tunnels. Likely the reason the Bright Moon and her black dressed goon squad had not offed themselves. They knew reinforcements would be here soon. Marc also knew to try to use them as hostages or bargaining would not be a good idea. If Souls even though they would be used in such a way, they killed themselves and their host body, robbing their captors of a living shield.

He was brought out of his thoughts by Mary-Margret's hand twitching in his. Looking down he saw her eyes flutter open, blinking a few times, she focused on Marc. She paid close attention to the nature of his eyes. Satisfied he had not been taken over by the parasitical aliens, she smiled faintly in relief. "Marc, I'm so glad you are alright."

"Hey, no worries about me. Let me worry about you."

"Oh this," she gestured to herself, "is Simon overreacting again. I'll be fine with a little more rest."

"Sister," said Marc with a tired shake of his head. "This is bad." He pointed to little Alexis a few beds down where her parents were tending to her and then to their unusual new patients. "Simon doesn't know what this illness is and its spreading."

At seeing the three Seekers, Mary-Margret came as close as Mark had ever seen the Nun go completely speechless. After a moment she managed to get mouth working again and said, "It seems I missed a few things while I was out."

"Just a few," replied Marc and quickly relayed most of the highlights of the last few hours.

Ever stoic, the old nun took in everything in her stride. After Marc finished, she asked, "And the Souls' medicine? I seem to remember that Matthew instructing us on all its wonderful uses."

"Doesn't seem to be able to beat this one," replied Marc.

Sister Mary-Margret reflected on this and then nodded. "I see," she said simply.

Without knowing what else to say, Marc got up and scrounged around in a few packed boxes. He and Scott had swiped a few stacks of bottled water from a Soul store a week ago. Finding a few still around in he popped the lid off and handed it Mary-Margret.

"Thank you. Although I confess, I would love some hot tea."

"Sorry, best I can do," said Marc as he returned to the cot beside Mary-Margret's and leaned close. The sheer magnitude of their problems was beginning to feel like an oppressive weight on his shoulders, pressing him down into the thin mattress. "I don't know what to do," he admitted in a whisper to the nun.

Taking a moment to collect herself, Mary-Margret struggled to sit up. Marc put a hand on her back and gently helped her rise. Despite the thickness of the nun's clothing, he could feel the fever burning in her frail body.

Leaning close to Marc, she replied in a whisper of her own. "You will find a way, Marc. You always do. You may not see it, but the Lord's path is always before you."

Marc let out a huff that nearly came out as a laugh. "You remember I don't believe in any of your fairy tales."

It was an old argument between them, going back to the day they had first met. "I remember," said Mary-Margret with a knowing smile. "But that doesn't change anything. There is a way out of this whether you believe in my so-called fairy tales or not." She stretched her arms out and rolled her shoulders as she straightened up on the narrow cot. She eyed the Seekers for a moment before turning back to Marc. "If you want my advice on something other than spiritual matters, I assume our home in now in danger."

Marc gave a nod of his head towards the Bright Moon and the other Seeker. "The other Souls are going to realize something is up when this lot doesn't report in. It's a good bet they'll send a small army down here. Just how long that takes is the real question."

"Therefore, we need to leave. And do so quickly."

"I know," admitted Marc. "But where do we go?"

Mary-Margret dropped her voice to a whisper. "Your friend, Autumn Gusting Wind has suggested…"

Marc cut her off, vigorously shaking his head at the unspoken plan. He did not want to discuss the details when Bright Moon was so close. "That's pretty much our worst-case scenario. It's extremely risky."

"I believe," said Mary-Margaret evenly, "this is a textbook definition of the worst-case scenario."

"So, we up and leave? With you and Alexis sick?" questioned Marc.

"I will manage, and little Alexis has her parents to help her," argued the nun. "At the least, it will buy us time to figure out a more permanent living arrangement."

Lapsing into silence, Marc mulled over what to do next. Mary-Margaret was right. She often was, much to Marc's irritation. As he sat, he let his eyes close. He listened to Simon nearby softly mumbling to himself. Scott and Kate speaking to Mike. The lightly raspy breathing of Mary-Margret. A brief moment of peace. One to be broken only a few moments later.

"Get away from her!"

Marc's eyes snapped open. Sarah was standing before Bright Moon. With everyone's attention drawn elsewhere, she had moved from where the two sick Seekers rested, crossing the distance to the other side where the Humans had clustered. Putting her in arms reach of Alexis. Sarah, apparently sensing the danger to her daughter, had rushed forward, blocking the Seeker's path.

Bewildered, Bright Moon stopped in surprise and then looked about, unsure of what was happening. Sarah, despite being six months pregnant, put herself right into the Seeker's face. "Don't you touch my little girl!" Mike was right behind her, followed by Scott and Kate. Their guns out, already aiming at the Seeker.

Taken aback, Bright Moon promptly retreated several steps. Her eyes wide in startled fear. Shakily, she glanced to the sleeping Alexis, to her mother, and then to Marc. "I-I had no intention of harming the child. I…just…need to speak with Marc."

Pushing himself to his feet, Marc warily threaded around Sarah, Mike, Scott, and Kate. The little group stood in a half-formed arc before the Seeker, looking as if they were going to rip her apart. Grabbing Bright Moon by the arm, he yanked her away, putting some distance between themselves and an angry and frightened miniature mob. For once, she did not fight him as pulled her along.

"Bri, could you possibly go five minutes without causing me a headache," he grunted.

Bright Moon answered in an unusually unsteady voice, "H-How else am I-I supposed to talk to you when s-stalk away to the other side of this place." If he did not know better, he would have sworn she was trembling in his grip.

Mary-Margret had half turned in her bed and had watched everything play out. Her calming words came as Marc led the Seeker back to the nun's bedside. All the while keeping a healthy distance from Alexis's cot. "Easy Sarah, no one here is going to hurt your child."

Sarah's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. A tiny fraction of tension drained away from the others. But they all keenly kept their eyes on Bright Moon. Coming to a stop before the nun's bedside, the old woman carefully studied the Seeker for a moment before admonishing Marc. "For heaven's sake, untie for the poor girl."

Marc looked at Mary-Margret as though she had grown an extra head. "She's a Seeker, Sister. If I untie her, she'll try to escape or harm one of us."

Still studying Bright Moon with a critical eye, the nun addressed the Seeker. "Hmm, so you are the young lady causing us so many problems."

For her part, the Bright Moon did not seem to know what to make of the nun. She stared in confusion at the old woman. This made Mary-Margret flash a happy grin at the Seeker. Almost laughing, she spoke to Marc. "She's a guest here, and we treat guests better than this."

Marc began to protest, but the Mary-Margret's happy smile disappeared in an instant. Her expression grew sharp and voice authoritative. "She's terrified if you hadn't noticed and I believe Scott and Kate with their guns are more than enough deterrent if she has ideas of running around. Everyone here needs to take a step back and relax."

When Marc still hesitated, her words turned to an outright command. "Untie her. Now."

With a heavy sigh and feeling unfairly chastised, Marc began to undo Bright Moon's restraints. In near astonishment, she asked, "Who is this woman? How can she order you around so?

"You try arguing with a nun," he grumbled as worked the ties binding her arms, "you'd have better luck trying to empty Lake Michigan with a spoon."

A soft snort came from Mary-Margret. Amusement spread on her wizened old face. "What is your name, dear?" she asked the Seeker.

Marc cut the last of restraints away, and Bright Moon pulled her now free hands from behind her back and began rubbing them to regain some feeling. "I am called Bright Moon on Fallen Snow," she told the nun.

"My that is a mouthful, but I admit I do like your Souls' names. Seem so elegant compared to some of ours."

Feeling like he needed to interject, Marc put in, "I call her Bri." This earned him a short laugh from Mary-Margret and a scowl from Bright Moon.

"Ah Bri, short for Briana," explained the nun. "Means noblewoman." Placing a hand on Bright Moon's arm, she gave the Seeker a comforting pat. "Are you a noblewoman?"

Again, Bright Moon appeared utterly confused by the nun. She opened her mouth and then closed it. After a moment she said, "I don't know what that means."

"That's alright," said Mary-Margret with a friendly smile, "the important thing is everyone had a chance to calm down a bit. I believe you came over here to ask something of us. What do you need?"

Both Marc and Bright Moon gave her a rather surprised look of bafflement. Yet the nun's actions had the desired effect. The Seeker had visibly relaxed. Nodding in agreement, Bright Moon turned to Marc. "I need the Cryotank we brought. You took it when you captured us."

Marc frowned with deep suspicion. "Why?"

"To retrieve Seeker Allison, her host will not last much longer. When it expires, there will be a short window of time to remove her from the body. I will store her in the Cryotank," explained Bright Moon.

Marc watched her closely. While Souls did not lie, Seekers did. He had heard enough of their deceptions to see through them, or at the very least with Bright Moon, he could tell when she was lying. There was something of evasiveness in her answer. He wondered what she was holding back. Shaking his head, he replied, "The Cryotank is already occupied, and you are not putting the current occupant into one of us."

"A Cryotank can carry two of us in an emergency. It is not a long-term solution, but when the other Seekers come, we can transport her to her own," answered Bright Moon.

More frustration built up in Marc. Of course, the Seekers were coming. He glowered in irritation at himself. He had delayed their deciding because he did not want to run and throw away everything they had built here. He had made excuses by trying to figure out this disease. And he had wasted even more time with Bright Moon in some vain hope she could be reasoned with. It was all pointless.

"No. We're done here."

"Marc," put in Mary-Margret, "what is the harm in letting her try to save her friend."

His anger finally boiled over. "Harm! What harm!?" He thrust a finger at Bright Moon who flinched away. "It and its pals will soon have a bunch of their shiny-eyed friends down here. And if we are not gone, they will crush us."

A quick glance at the others in the hospital told Marc they felt the same way. Angry, fearful glares of desperate people in a desperate situation. But when he looked back at Mary-Margret, she was scowling at him in disappointment. "I didn't say we needed to stay, we do need to leave. But that doesn't mean we can't help them save one of their own."

"Why should I?" came Marc's reply through clenched teeth.

Sister Mary-Margret answered with one word. "Mercy."

Incredulity raced through Marc. Finding an outlet for his frustration, he began to pace back and forth in a tight, angry circle. "You have got to be kidding me, Mary-Margaret. Mercy…you want me to show the Seekers mercy? I've been merciful to them before, didn't help one damn bit."

With a distasteful glare, Bright Moon put herself in Marc path. "When have you ever shown compassion to us?" She waved her hand at him and then to the others. "You are all dangerous wild humans, and you'd murder us if you had the chance."

Marc's reply came not as an angry outburst, but in calm, deadly voice. "Really? Not three days ago I had you and your team helpless in a net at that warehouse. The smart move would be to kill you right there. But I didn't and look what that got us. It's time I corrected my mistake."

Bright Moon stood silent, defiantly glaring at him. He took a step towards Scott. His friend held one the Seekers' guns at his side. Marc would take it and do the damn job himself. Starting with Bright Moon.

But he never took the second step for Mary-Margret bellowed at the top of her lungs. "STOP! AND BE SILENT!" Everyone in the hospital froze, stunned at the frail nun's outburst. It would have seemed impossible for such a small woman to have made such a loud noise. She was standing with obvious difficulty and breathing hard. Deep, hard gasps at her exertion of keeping herself upright. It took a few moments before she spoke again.

"Marc and you, Bright Moon, both of you listen to me," she rasped out. Pausing, she wheezed out a few breaths before continuing. "Now Marc, you have done many things to the Seekers. You have fought them, run from them, hid from them, and played your tricks on them. But you have not shown the Seekers mercy."

"Mercy is not about expecting something in return. Mercy is not done as a reward, or for the strong to grant to the weak. Mercy is when you have no reason to, when every instinct tells you not to, that is mercy."

Marc was silent for a long time and finally said, "You want me to show mercy to those not capable of returning it?"

Turning to a wide-eyed Bright Moon, Mary-Margret replied, "I don't know if the aliens who call themselves Seekers know mercy, or how to show it to anyone who isn't another Soul. But if not, even more reason to demonstrate it to them."

As the nun spoke, she took another long moment as she gathered herself to continue. "Seeker Bright Moon on Fallen Snow, I will not argue with you on what the Souls have done to humanity. That is beyond me. It is too large. I am content to let the Almighty make a judgment. There are plenty of people here who would disagree with me, but it is my faith. What I can tell you is we have lived here for many years, nearly since your people took control of the city. In that time, no one here has killed a Soul. We hid from you, we stole from you, but we did not kill you. So, do not recklessly call us murders."

The uncertainty and fear of Bright Moon's expression stood out plainly, distrust practically radiated of her whole body. But as Mary-Margret spoke, it faded ever so slightly. Lines of doubt still crossed her face, but they became muted, replaced with a wide-eyed look of amazement.

"You have truly lived here," she slowly asked, "all this time, without conflict with us?"

"We have…tried to…" came Mary-Margret's weakening response. The nun now looked truly spent, and her legs began to fold underneath her. Marc was at her side in a near instant, his arms wrapping around her as he helped her lay down. With what little strength she had she whispered to him, "Show mercy, Marc."

Mary-Margret's eyelids slid close as her head rested against the pillow. Marc slowly straightened back up and looked about him. Simon, Kate, Mike, Sarah, even little Alexis looked at him. He saw Bright Moon had moved back to the other two Seekers but was also looking at him, her expression unreadable. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Trying to replace the circling feeling of doom in his stomach with a bit of confidence he did not feel. He looked over to his people - Simon, Mike, Scott, Kate, Jason and Sarah. Then to Bright Moon and the other Seekers. All gazed back at him, all their faces waiting and expectant.

Finally, he said, "We are getting out of here." He paused and added, "And someone get Bright Moon her damn cryotank."

AN: Being able to double up occupancy of a cryotank is made up, but one that I think makes sense in my story and from what we know of the Souls' technology.

-Walker