Eloi

Eloi Chapter Sixty Three
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch and Uberbeta… *GLOMP * Thanks! *sends more Tims* InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink, Dracena and Greywolf are loverly and wondermous for archiving/hosting. :) ProPhile: Really, the apple was faking it. Morgan: You alive out there? Readers/Reviewers: This chapter is a bit short. Just thought I’d warn ya. And the story should wrap up this weekend… Thanks so much for reading/reviewing! :)


Mark watched Sean move slowly through the rows of metal racks and glass tubes. The question he was dying to ask went silent on his lips, his awareness telling him more than the Irishman would. “Logan,” Mark murmured, tilting the hilt of his short sword in Sean’s direction.
Logan’s lip curled in a sneer. _Who the Hell carries a sword? _ Nodding slowly, Logan moved to Sean’s left, walking up the aisle as if examining the racks. “How’d you know to find this place again?”
Sean vented a rough sigh and smiled faintly at Logan, pausing between the aisles. “I told you… Emma found out. She said she felt like an idiot for not realizing sooner how close this all was.” He shifted to look over his shoulder at Mark. “You okay back there?”
“Dandy,” Mark replied, nodding in a gentlemanly fashion at Sean. “Yourself?” He walked closer, eyes sweeping left and right as he searched the dusty floor for some sign of life. Aside from their own footprints, there was nothing. “Sean, do you think that WHOA!” Sword clattering to the ground, Mark pitched forward, hands flying out as if to catch himself. Sean jerked in surprise but did not reach for him. The librarian hit the floor with a loud smack but rolled to his feet without seemingly slowing down. “Slow reflexes,” he said sharply, dusting his clothing off with short, brusque strokes.
“Sorry,” Sean shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Thought a grown man would catch himself before he fell like a colt.” His glance flickered to Logan and his frown deepened. “What’s with the look?”
“You were special ops, Sean, right?” Logan asked. He folded his arms across his chest as if he were cold, his fingers flexing in preparation for what was to come. “Elite teams, that sort of thing?”
He laughed. “Just because that’s true doesn’t mean I have amazing reflexes!” He shook his head and threw up his hands in resignation. “Fine,” Sean said rolling his eyes. “I didn’t catch a grown man. Must mean I’m a spy!”
Logan raised a brow. “Not what I was going to say but now that you mention it…” He stepped closer to Sean, flanking him on the left while Mark moved in on the right. “You don’t seem like yourself, Sean.”
“Who else do I seem like?” the other man asked, raising a brow in mimicry of Logan’s expression.
Mark’s body tensed in preparation. It would be fast, he thought, and likely painful. “Sean, what’s my last name?”
“What? How the Hell should I know that?” he laughed in disbelief. “Fuck this for a game of soldiers,” he announced, starting forward as if to push through the duo.
“Now, now,” Mark murmured, his arm shooting out to block Sean’s progress. “Ex intelligence and you’re telling me you didn’t do a thorough background check on a slightly suspicious individual who takes up with an alleged enemy?” He tsk’d, shaking his head sadly. “Sloppy work, mate.”
Sean’s face became hard, set into lines of sheer anger, but only for a flashing moment. Fluidly, he shifted and dropped low, sweeping his leg out to knock Mark to the ground. Logan leapt forward, grabbing the imposter’s neck and dragging him off his feet, into the air. “Mark!” he shouted.
“Just fine, thanks!” Mark replied to the unasked question. He had fallen for the second time in as many minutes but this time he stayed down. Something had caught his eye. “You got him?”
Logan’s grip on the other man’s throat was tight to the point of lethal; “I have him,” he said. “Just not for long…”
Mark nodded, grabbing up the small, button-shaped item from the floor before getting to his feet. “Here,” he said, tossing Logan a thin cord he pulled from the well-stocked belt around his waist. “Tie him up.”
Logan was silent for just a moment. “I don’t even want to know.” Sean’s head slumped to one side and Logan let him fall. “What’s that?”
Mark pocketed the button and smiled. “Proof.” Nodding at Sean, he said “Let’s take him home. We won’t find anyone here… This was supposed to be our tomb.”
Logan snorted. “Good luck with that… I’ve had better than this yutz try to kill me.”
“What’s worse,” Mark asked, moving to open the massive metal door that led to the outside, “dying alone or living forever?”
“Get back to me on that one.”

A/N I know it seems disjointed but next chapter, it’ll make all kinds of sense…