Yeah, I know it's REALLY late! My apologies, but I can't write if my mind isn't focused on the chapter at hand. To be honest, I've had at least three one-shots floating around in my head for the last few months but little inspiration had hit for chapter 22. Oh well, better late than never.
I have a list of the people who requested the extended version of 21. Unfortunately, I'm single and pathetic at the moment, so you probably won't be receiving an update until my circumstances change!!!! You should know by now that I'm true to my word, though. It'll get done. Eventually ;-) Actually, I'm on 5 weeks holiday from next week, so I'll have no excuse!
This is the final chapter, guys.
Disclaimer: I don't own Captain Planet, nor do I make any money from this modest hobby.
Alternate Destination
Chapter Twenty-Two
The wound was deep and bleeding profusely. The silver-haired man groaned loudly, gritting his teeth as Kwame attempted to apply pressure to the afflicted area. The African man swore lightly under his breath, unable to see the progress of his frantic ministrations. He felt the blood however; oozing between his outstretched fingers and running in warm rivulets onto the tiled floor beneath them.
The hopelessness of the situation was beginning to play havoc with Kwame's mind. It was soul-shattering. Having made a career out of assisting others, he had come to the realization that there was no more progress to be made here. He changed positions to ease his aching back, maintaining the pressure but feeling dejected and frustrated.
"Is Pop gonna' be all right?"
The disembodied voice came from his left, a small whimper compared to the frightened cacophony rising and falling around them. Kwame turned, seeking out the child's vague form. A round, blue light suddenly appeared, the glow illuminating the dim form of a disheveled girl with long hair. Her fingers clamped the side of her wrist watch as the face of a smiling Bratz doll peered out of the watch panel for several seconds, seeming to float through the air.
Kwame briefly considered telling her the truth; that her grandfather was bleeding to death. As her small night-light faded, he instinctively knew that the rest of her family probably didn't survive the original quakes.
We do not have long ourselves. Why burden her?
"He will be fine, child. Your grandfather just needs to rest for a while."
"Are you sure?"
Kwame changed the subject, asking the girl about the other functions of her wrist watch. He sat quietly and listened, glad for the distraction as she explained the stop-watch mechanism and background light. "Yeah… it's really handy at night if I wanna' read after the lights go out, but Dad says that he can see the glow through my blankets…"
She trailed off, lost in thought. Kwame stood and blindly reached out, finding the top of her bushy head. He patted her there awkwardly and left her with her grandfather, seeking out someone more familiar. His attention had been diverted from the staircase for ten minutes or so. Kwame returned to the site and resumed his look-out… waiting with baited breath for any indication that his friends were close by.
"Ma-Ti? Gi, are you here?" he hissed, keeping his ears cocked for the sound of their voices. He paused, hoping against all odds that a familiar voice would pipe up in the darkness. He received no reply. Kwame breathed in, then exhaled shakily, unwilling to even entertain the thought that they might be…
The African man shuddered, panic building within the confines of his broad chest. He swallowed as a bitter taste hit the back of his throat.
They didn't make it.
Ignoring the uninvited thought, he turned and paced the room, calling their names with a newfound sense of urgency. Again, only coughs and soft whimpering greeted his efforts, intermingled with the thunderous cracks resonating from outside: Zarm's fury unleashed on the world.
He hadn't seen Gi or Ma-Ti since the mass exodus from the lower levels and that had been a while ago. A blast had hit the side of the building, causing the ground-floor supports to give way. Half of the ceiling had fallen, crushing a sea of bodies sleeping below.
Half an hour earlier
The noise had been deafening, causing the dwindling crowd sheltering inside to rush towards the upper levels via the narrow fire escape. His first thought had been for the Gi and Ma-Ti, who were assisting others on the opposite side of the store at the time of the collapse. As the crowd swarmed towards the stairs, Kwame had continued calling their names but received only the echo of his own voice by way of reply.
Caught in the midst of the crowd, Kwame was shoved unwillingly towards the exit, feeling the relentless press of bodies around him as they darted away from the falling concrete. He had struggled to stay on his feet as the surge of people began pushing from behind, forming a stampede of frightened souls vying for higher ground. At one point, Kwame had nearly tripped and fallen over several large objects lying sprawled along the stairway. Kwame's bewildered state of mind hindered his ability to fully process the implications.
Who on earth would leave something lying in a fire escape?
Reality slowly seeped in. For one horrifying moment, Kwame grasped the real reason for the obstruction.
Mother of mercy… we are running over them! There are people on the ground!
His gut instinct had been to turn and help. Kwame looked back, pleading for calm but it was no use. At one point, he thought he had heard Plunder's angry voice within the din but the crowd had surged forward again and he was pushed towards the exit door. The edge of the doorway caught his shoulder painfully as he had broken free into the 2nd floor level. Kwame had been hovering close to the stairs ever since, waiting and praying for Gi or Ma-Ti to materialize from the black depths below. The strange light flashes had continued to burst through the store windows at sporadic intervals; illuminating the area where he currently stood, lost in thought…and alone.
He called their names again, louder this time as a desperate note touched his voice. He was angry now, frustrated that by assisting the injured man earlier, he may have missed Ma-Ti or Gi passing him, like ships in the night. As if mirroring Kwame's turbulent emotions, the light show outside also increased in intensity. The blasts grew deafening and the frightened man struggled to be heard over the din. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, a strange surge of static electricity pervading the atmosphere.
"MA-TI! GI!"
But a small part of him already knew… the feeling was inescapable, a primitive sensation which coiled in the pit of his stomach. A sixth sense… almost detachment, as if a binding link had broken free from the depths of his soul. He shook the bad feeling away, but it surfaced once again, forcing him to reveal the truth that he had refused to face since fleeing the lower levels.
They didn't make it off the ground floor. They are already gone.
Assaulted by the reality of the situation, the African man shuddered, dropping to the floor in anguish. Panic bubbled up within him, threatening to overwhelm his usually calm persona. He drew his legs up to his chin, wrapping his arms around them and rocked himself, staring into the relentless blackness.
Crack
Kwame's eyes glazed over in the darkness of the long-dead department store. A massive rack of expensive-looking dresses lined the wall behind him, a shining example of human over-indulgence which, in the end, had contributed to their fate.
Crack
Kwame leaned back into the soft fabric, almost hiding himself within the hemlines of the garments. Frightened keening soon assaulted his senses from across the room. He lowered his head, covering his ears with his trembling hands to drown out the woman's hysteria.
Crack
The room lit up like a Christmas tree, the light remaining for several seconds. Kwame watched with detached fear as the now-screaming woman was slapped across the face by a young boy of about fourteen, the glow allowing the boy to find the source of the unnerving noise.
The light soon faded once again, plunging them into shadows. Soft folds of gauzy fabric fluttered across his face, tickling his nose and eyes. Kwame batted it aside, aware that there was now an icy breeze trailing into the building.
CRACK!
The walls shook, but Kwame remained where he was. There was simply nowhere else to go.
The flashes increased in intensity until the room lit up at regular intervals, sparks of blue battering the windows and walls incessantly. The few who had made it to the 'safety' of the 2nd floor barely had time to register the change, before a massive bolt of blue lightning carved it's way through the centre of the store.
Kwame stared at the shimmering light, watching in detached wonder as it seemed to spear into the ground, hovering unnaturally within the electrified space. It pulsed, the power of the surge increasing with each expansion and contraction.
Crack
Two times…
Crack
Three…
Crack
Four…
Crack
The fifth pulse would be the last thing Kwame would ever see. The bolt suddenly shimmered and radiated outwards, disintegrating everyone and everything within the building with deadly efficiency.
It was gone as quickly as it had arrived, leaving only dust, destruction and death in its wake.
Persephone observed the attack from within her realm. Infinite sadness radiated from the spirit in waves as she watched Zarm wreck his vengeance upon human-kind. The warrior spirit was no longer in human form. He had progressed into a shapeless entity with limitless power and Persephone struggled to track his movements. The twisted entity's targets were totally erratic, as if there were no method or strategy behind the destruction.
She turned her wary gaze towards the flattened building on her left… reduced to a pile of ash. Her blue eyes closed for a moment, acknowledging the third death she had been expecting for some time now. Her eyes narrowed as Zarm's new form rapidly changed direction and disappeared again with a resounding crack. The lightning remained however, a by-product of the environmental changes Zarm had caused over the past few days.
It was a waiting game… albeit a morbid one. She had no choice. The damage could not to be reversed, nor could she physically stop Zarm from the annihilation of Earth. He had morphed into something entirely different to anything that Persephone had encountered: twisted, cold and dedicated to its mission with a deadly precession.
She sighed.
Not a good way to start my first day at work...
She was relatively young for a spirit, especially for one entrusted with the difficult task of protecting the one planet in the infinite universe with the tendency for self destruction. Gaia herself had never alluded to her age, although many of her fellow spirits believed that she had been present before the first men had descended from the caves. Compared to Gaia, Persephone was a mere child.
Regardless of her limited years, she had now been entrusted with the future of Earth… if there was to be a future for them at all. As Zarm's form returned to blacken the heavy skies further, Persephone silently wished for Gaia's comforting presence. The Spirit of Earth had taken Persephone under her wing long ago, grooming her as a potential replacement, although the younger entity had been unaware at the time.
Gaia's precious Planeteers had been such a source of joy for the ancient spirit, validating her decision to awaken from her slumber earlier than anticipated. Gaia had doted upon them with the love that only a mother can give. They gave her a sense of pride, proof that not all humans were interested in increasing their material and financial wealth at the cost of the environment.
Persephone's smile faltered for a moment, reflecting on these thoughts as she surveyed the surrounding landscape of what had once been New York. Of course, other cities had fallen by now. Soon, Zarm would move onto other countries and continents. Any areas left unblemished by the evil would soon perish anyway without sunlight to sustain them.
She was glad that Gaia was gone. It would have broken her heart to see this. Persephone's resolve strengthened. Her eyes narrowed with fierce determination, ready to continue Gaia's good work. To set the balance right again.
Her eyes fell upon a building to the left of the ruins… her last hope was confined within. She hoped that the plan would work. There was an inherent danger with what they were attempting, but she had no choice. She hoped that Captain Planet was up to the challenge.
The Earths champion was dead against Persephone's plan. He had fought and argued with her, heartsick and distraught… but he did not understand. Persephone had an ace card up her diaphanous sleeve and she would play it for all it was worth. The new Spirit of Earth smiled.
The 'almighty' Zarm would not see this coming.
"Do you think that they are…"
"We shouldn't think about it, Linka," he murmured drowsily, tightening his arm around her small waist and using his other hand to brush her long hair aside: it was tickling his face, after all. The girl nodded, feeling him press his lips and nose against the nape of her neck. She shivered slightly, but not from the cold.
"I cannot help it," she said truthfully, sniffling slightly. She reshuffled in his arms, glad that they had taken the time to get dressed again. The air was absolutely frigid outside of their protective cocoon of blankets and rugs.
"If it makes you feel any better, I reckon the rest of Blight's face has been well and truly barbequed by now," he stated, feeling Linka tense up at the image his statement brought forth.
"Bozhe moy! That is…" she began, wrinkling her nose in distaste. She thumped him with the heel of her foot. "Not even Blight deserves that."
"Yeah, well she's part of the reason we're even here, so forgive me for having little sympathy…" he said, too tired to put any emotion into it. His eyes were half closed now. In all honesty, he was more than resigned to falling asleep like this and not waking up. He was past the point of caring about his fate now.
"No one deserves this, Jacob," she replied quietly.
He considered her statement thoughtfully but chose not to reply, reaching up instead to curl a tendril of her hair around his index finger.
She waited for a moment. "You disagree, Yankee?"
"Nah. Just strange to hear you calling me Jacob."
She smiled at that observation. "Da… well, I thought we were well and truly on a first name basis, by now."
"Geez, babe," he muttered, amused, "I shoulda' got you in the sack years ago!"
Linka retaliated, giving him another sharp kick to the leg.
"Ow, quit it!"
"Well, do not be such a smarty-socks…" she began, before realizing that her phrasing was, as per usual, totally incorrect. "And do not go correcting me Yankee, I know it's wrong!"
Wheeler smiled sleepily, honoring her request. They lay in silence for a while, listening to the hollow footsteps treading the floorboards below. The attacks had relented about ten minutes ago, although the odd lightning remained in the skies outside the nightclub, flashing noiselessly at intermittent intervals.
Linka closed her eyes, surrendering to the overwhelming need for sleep. She took comfort in the sound of Wheeler's steady breathing, warming the back of her neck. He was already dozing. She snuggled closer into his body, content to stay here until the inevitable occurred. Everything that needed to be brought out into the open had already been discussed. There was nothing more that needed to be said. This knowledge brought her closure, being able to admit to herself that she loved the American, had always loved him and more importantly, had been able to tell him without fear of weakness or unfounded ridicule.
Crack
Linka gasped, her heart quickening in her chest as the blasts resumed with frightening intensity.
Here we go again.
The walls shook viciously as small particles of plaster fell from the ceiling. Thoroughly frightened now, Linka rolled over and buried her face into Wheeler's chest.
This is how I died the first time.
A larger piece of plaster fell, shattering onto the floor beside the sofa arm-rest, so close to their heads. She scurried onto her knees and leaned over the American, protecting him from the debris. She looked up towards the ceiling, seeing nothing but imagining the uneven surface threatening to give way.
Crack!
Buried under the blankets, the sound was muffled, but there was no mistaking the ferocity of the attack. She looked down at the formless shape below her, wanting to wake him but not having the heart. A fierce sense of protectiveness overpowered her; probably similar to what Wheeler had felt when discovering her body four years ago on Hope Island. Her face fell as she contemplated that moment… the utter helplessness and grief Wheeler must have experienced.
Another noise greeted her heightened senses. A creaking sound punctuated the air, rusty hinges and then heavy shuffling.
The door.
She peeked out from under the blankets again, blindly searching for the source. Her eyes betrayed nothing but the shuffling continued. Before she had the chance to wake Wheeler, a hand gripped her mouth and she was pulled from the sofa with powerful hands. Linka struggled, rampant fear replacing her alarm as the icy cold air hit the Russian, making it difficult for her to breathe. As her hand made contact with Captain Planet's solar panel she stopped moving as confusion set in.
We have to go, Linka.
The voice was in her head, faint but clear. Linka's hand reached out, trying to grab Wheeler but she was pulled away too quickly, her fingers merely grazing the rough fabric of the unseen blanket covering his sleeping form.
"No! I can't leave him! Let me stay!" She silently pleaded with him, crying and emotionally exhausted but Planet shook his head.
I'm sorry, Linka. I have my orders.
The Russian was pulled of her unsteady feet and carried outside, shivering from both the freezing temperature and blatant shock she was currently experiencing.
Linka whimpered as he descended the stairs and made his way out of the building, holding her securely in his arms. She was shaking violently as they quickly moved away from the nightclub. The cold winds were acutely painful against her skin and she moaned, her heart-rate increasing in an effort to pump the blood around her body faster.
The building behind them crashed to the ground, the force nearly sending Cap stumbling with his precious cargo. He stood and braced himself against the onslaught, sorrow permeating his heart as Linka screamed in anguish. She began to struggle violently against him again, yelling the American's name into the night. She was dropped gently to the ground at Cap's feet. Consumed by her pain, Linka curled up into a fetal position and sobbed, failing to notice the bright light approaching from behind her.
Captain Planet nodded, acknowledging Persephone's arrival. He stood back, allowing the Earth Spirit to approach the hysterical girl lying on the ground. The spirit dropped to her knees, bathing Linka in a warm glow. As an overwhelming blackness began to descend upon Linka's fragile consciousness, Persephone gently gripped Linka's face within her hands, wiping the tears away and speaking softly to the uncomprehending girl. Forcing Linka to meet her eyes, Persephone repeated her instructions, making sure that they were explicitly understood.
As the darkened plains swum in and out of focus, Linka blinked the tears away as the Persephone and Captain Planet began to disappear. Choking back tears, she cried out, distraught that she was to be left alone in this God-forsaken place.
"Nyet! Do not leave me!"
Even as the words left her mouth, she realized that the background was fading along with the pair. As the world tumbled into darkness, she suddenly understood that it was she who was fading, not the others.
Persephone smiled encouragingly at the girl, her words echoing in this space long after she and Captain Planet had retreated.
"Live."
Thump… thump…thump!
She blinked, uncomprehending and confused as something battered the side of the nightclub…
Linka blinked again, remembering that she wasn't in the nightclub anymore. She was in the street, crying and begging for mercy, waiting to die, knowing that she'd failed him.
She looked around, the shock written on her face as she saw the shadow of a tree banging listlessly against a small window. Hard rain and heavy winds were evident outside of… wherever she currently lay. Her mouth opened and closed soundlessly, her mind frantically replaying the moments before... this.
Linka sat up, her small fingers gripping the soft fabric of a blanket as she listened intently. As her eyes became accustomed to the light, she could just make out a familiar laundry basket with clothes hanging haphazardly over the edge of the wicker. The faint smell of chlorine hung in the air, as if…
She didn't dare breathe; for fear that it wasn't real. She gripped the blanket again, only now she knew that it was her own floral bedspread in her hands, the one that her beloved nona had made several years earlier. This was her bed, her quilt, her laundry basket.
Her room.
The tree branches battered the window again as she sat cross legged, attempting to make sense of this new predicament.
But Hope Island is gone.
As if in response to her thought, the winds picked up, whistling savagely around her small hut. Somewhere else on the island, she heard what sounded like a large object being dragged, before a loud crash echoed across the island. The sound of glass shattering followed.
Her face turned chalk-white, understanding that the Geo Cruiser had by now been picked up by the turbulent winds and was currently upside down, lying ruined in front of the bay.
The tree.
"Nyet!" she screeched as Persephone's wish flashed within her mind. She turned and flung herself to the side, toppling off the bed as her ceiling opened up and a massive tree barreled into the small hut, leaves and fat droplets of rain spreading over the floor of her room. A branch whipped out, striking her on the side of the head but the adrenaline was pumping in overdrive now as she scooted backwards on her hands and feet, away from the danger of additional flailing branches.
Her breathing was ragged as she blinked the water out of her eyes, staring at the elm tree lying across her bed. Her eyes traveled over the damage, before her gaze rested upon the thick, lower branch which had pierced the centre of her mattress.
Bozhe moy! That should have been me…
She was shaking now, hugging her knees to her chest and crying. More thumping greeted her ears, along with a voice calling out her name repeatedly, but she was oblivious to it all.
Linka lent against the wall, wiping the falling water from her face and eyes as a figure came barreling into the room, half- tripping over her fallen bookshelf. He vaulted over the obstruction and stood with his back to her, the profile of his stricken face immediately recognizable to her, but so different to what she had remembered.
She observed him, dazed and feeling strangely detached as he cleared the tangle of wood and began tossing sticks and debris over his head in an effort to find her. A piece of timber narrowly missed her, bouncing off her ruined night-stand and scattering onto the sodden carpet.
"GUYS!" he bellowed, frantically searching for the girl who should have been sleeping soundly, until a few moments ago. "GET IN HERE!"
Linka attempted to stand, leaning against the wall for support but a wave of dizziness struck her. She slid back down to the ground again, holding her throbbing head in her hand and feeling warm blood seeping from the wound.
She moaned, the minute sound catching Wheeler's attention. Joyful relief transformed his face as he turned and saw her crouched on the ground.
"Oh, thank God, Linka!" he exclaimed, grabbing her by the upper arms. "C'mon, we gotta go."
She allowed herself be lifted to her feet. Unable to walk independently, the American tossed her effortlessly over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and proceeded to negotiate the various obstructions, clearing the room without too much difficulty.
The ground swayed violently from her vantage point, her arms dangling as Kwame's voice issued from somewhere, sharp with concern.
"Is she all right?"
"Yeah, I think so. She got whacked in the head by something, though…"
"The geo-cruiser is totally destroyed." Kwame's voice was low but filled with urgency.
"You should see Linka's room, man," stated Wheeler shakily, repositioning Linka more comfortably on his shoulder. The world wobbled for a moment as Linka adjusted to the movement. "There's a freakin' elm tree where her bed used to be!"
Sutchi scurried past them as Kwame contemplated this information. Linka raised her head and watched the little monkey dart to safety, probably looking for his master. "You're kidding!" Kwame blurted out, looking back towards Linka's room. "She wasn't in her bed?"
A massive clap of thunder startled them as they cleared the main buildings, heading towards the relative safety of the enclosed bay. Wheeler shook his head. "Nah, found her on the other side of the room!"
Kwame exhaled, sending a silent thank you to whichever almighty force had been responsible for Linka's survival.
"Did you see the Geo-Cruiser?" shrieked a female voice. Gi was now running towards them, her hair plastered to the side of her face as she caught up to the trio. "It's totally gutted, glass every…" She stopped abruptly, noticing what Wheeler was carrying. "Oh no, is she alright?"
"I think so," he replied, dropping her gently onto the sand as Gi attempted to stem the wound with a piece of her night-shirt. As Gi propped Linka's head into her lap, the Russian stared up at the sky fearfully, half expecting Zarm to break through the storm and finish them off. Thankfully, only glimpses of bright moonlight beamed down upon them through the heavy clouds. The rain had finally relented, although the thunder and lightning remained, flashing across the sky. They sat and watched the spectacle, Gi's hand a comforting presence upon her forehead.
Linka closed her eyes, at peace for the first time since her ordeal began. She turned her head slightly, looking for a tell-tale sign of her previous ordeal.
The grave…
She sat up unsteadily, shuddering as she scanned the bay-side for the small mound of dirt and stones which had allegedly held her broken body some weeks before. Ma-Ti soon arrived and joined them on the sandy beach, holding his precious possessions in his arms.
"Lie down, Lin. You're hurt," Gi whispered, but Linka brushed off her hand, searching for any sign…
Leaves, branches and mortar littered the ground, but no grave was visible within the debris-strewn grounds. The Russian exhaled, lying back against Gi and closing her eyes once more, finally surrendering to sleep as dawn began to break over the horizon.
Linka sat quietly, staring out the window as the nurse finished tying off the stitches. Gi and Wheeler had taken her to an emergency room on the mainland, while Kwame and Ma-Ti stayed behind on the island to salvage what they could.
The nurse applied a small plaster to the area, giving her instructions on how to care for the wound but Linka was only half listening. Her mind was elsewhere, a fact that had not gone past the other Planeteers since their narrow escape. Linka heard the word concussion exchanged a few times in whispered conversations between the nurse and her friends. This seemed to explain the dizziness and weakness, but Wheeler and Gi were at a loss to understand the haunted, fearful look gracing Linka's features. She had retreated from reality, hardly uttering a word in the 24 hours since the storm abated.
A cell phone rang. Wheeler ducked out for a moment, answering the call as Gi helped her best friend into the back seat of the car waiting outside. Linka sat passively, the sun streaming into the car windows while Gi returned to the surgery to speak to the doctors. She squinted, unaccustomed to the bright sunlight. The cuts on her body sustained four weeks ago, upon waking alone on Hope Island were gone, as if they had never occurred to begin with. She frowned; frustrated that her scientific mind couldn't even begin to explain the lack of evidence her ordeal should have revealed.
She glanced up, leaning against the back of the head rest. A flutter of activity distracted her as Linka observed Wheeler stepping out onto the side walk, his back to her as he continued to speak into the receiver. She tilted her head, noticing the massive physical differences she saw in him. In the nightclub, he really had been a shadow of his former self.
The American sensed Linka's appraisal and turned, giving her a half wave. To his surprise, she smiled and waved back, before settling her gaze downwards, her hands folded neatly within her lap. The car door opened and he jumped in beside her, replacing the phone in his pocket.
"Feeling better?" he asked, closing the door and propping his knees against the front seat, as he had done aboard the geo-cruiser the night that her world had changed so drastically.
She nodded, meeting his blue eyes with another small smile.
"Good," he said, his thoughts distracted about the phone call. "They can't find Gaia."
"What?" she said softly, her body stiffening as she contemplated the news. Wheeler sighed, throwing his arms in the air.
"Gaia's… gone. Kwame said that there's no sign of her."
She looked away, considering the spirit's disappearance. Could the effects of Zarm's attack be so far-reaching? Had it impacted on this reality, as well as the one she had just left?
Linka made to reply, but was stopped as a strange sight caused the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on end. Her mouth dropped open as her gaze fell upon an upstairs window of the surgery. A woman with long blond hair was present, smiling through the glass panes. Linka's breath caught in her throat, immediately recognizing her as the spirit who had been with Captain Planet outside of the nightclub, just before her return to her own time.
The spirit smiled at her encouragingly, before holding her hand up, palm held vertically in the air in a gesture of friendship. Persephone slowly faded from view, replaced by the white, lacy curtains that shielded the inhabitants from the glare of the outside streetscape.
A warm hand gripped her wrist, startling Linka from her daze. She turned, her eyes wide and face pale as Wheeler stared at her, concern written all over his face.
"I… I thought I saw something," she mumbled. She smiled, understanding now who this spirit was, and why she was on Earth. "Gaia will not be returning, I do not think."
"How do you…"
He stopped abruptly as the Russian slipped her wrist from his grasp. Used to this type of reaction, he shrugged, but was unprepared when she interlinked her small fingers within his own and squeezed.
"You sure you're all…" he began, but was interrupted again as Linka squealed, unbuckled her seatbelt and kneeled over him, her hair falling over his face in a soft halo. "Wait… what the hell are you… LINKA!" he said, totally bewildered as she grabbed his shirt collar and pulled it downwards, looking intently for a sign, any sign…
The car door opened and Gi stepped into the front seat, eyebrows raised as she saw them struggling in the back seat. She sat, turning in her seat and fixing Wheeler with an amused look.
"Hey, don't look at me," he said, thoroughly nonplussed and holding Linka's elbows in an effort to keep her at bay. "She's delirious."
She sat back on her haunches, having found what she was looking for. "There" she said, lightly touching the tri-colored mole on his shoulder. Wheeler shivered at the contact, totally unaccustomed to Linka's physical closeness. "You need to get that looked at, Yankee."
She hopped off his lap and returned to her own seat, a small smile gracing her features as the American gaped at her.
"Ooo-kay…fair enough," Gi remarked, sarcasm dripping from her voice as she started the engine and put it in gear. "The boys are meeting us back at the hotel. We'll figure out what to do from there."
But Linka already knew. She had had the opportunity to see, hear and touch the future. Only now, she was actually a part of it. Linka grinned in spite of herself, pushing her green-tinged hair behind her ears, knowing that Wheeler was still glancing at her every now and again, attempting to make sense of her strange behavior.
Linka knew that their current way of life was over. Somehow, she was also aware that the new Spirit of Earth would usher in a new team of Planeteers, ready to do her bidding. Linka's time was over but in another way, it was only just beginning.
She lent back, intending to do what Persephone had asked her to do. She would live, make the most out of every moment. She glanced over at Wheeler, his head pressed against the window as he watched the passing traffic. A rush of affection flowed through her, having had the distinct privilege of getting to know the man he would become.
She would be all right.
Wow, that's it, guys! Hope you have enjoyed reading. Thanks for your patience, since it takes me a long time to construct each chapter. I can't just sit there and write: I tend to agonize over every sentence. I read, re-read, change, amend, delete… call it paranoid if you wish, but it's the way I work!
Thanks so much for the reviews, too. You guys have all been so supportive; I've enjoyed getting the feedback and hope you continue with it for this final chapter.
Love Sarah (Missgoldy)