Footsteps in the Sand
Karen Galarneault
Disclaimer: Highlander, created by Gregory Widen, and all related
characters, locations, and events are the property of Rysher
Davis/Panzer Productions. In Highlander continuity this story takes
place after the fourth season episode "Glory Days". The character of
Q is borrowed from the Star Trek Universe and belongs to Paramount
Pictures.
The story and any other characters are mine.
"Footsteps in the Sand"
by Karen Galarneault
Joe Dawson sighed as he lugged yet another beer cask over behind the
counter of polished oak with its veneer of brass trim. He filled the
taps for yet a third time. He couldn't remember his bar being this
busy, but for some reason the scenes from "Casablanca" kept running
through his head. He had gone to see the movie with Betsy Fields; an
old high school sweetheart who had waltzed into his life, stirring up
a lot of old memories. {Of all the gin-joints in all the world,.....
Nah, Gotta stop thinking like that.} However, too much time had
passed, and their lives had gone in separate directions. Vietnam had
come: He had gone to war she had moved on and was married. His life
had changed drastically, not just having prosthetic legs. He had
been recruited by Ian Bancroft into the Watchers: a secret society of
men and women who had introduced him into the world of the Immortals;
and his world had never been quite the same since.
Thinking of these, years later, he wondered why things sometimes work
out for the best, even when one tends not to realize it at the time.
Dawson wondered if Duncan MacLeod, his assignment, his friend, ever
felt anything of the same. {"Sooner or later, everyone comes to
Joe's} he muttered, setting the keg down.
_________________________________
It was true, sooner or later everyone did manage to walk into Joe's
bar: Mostly regular patrons looking for a drink, or travelers or
tourists off the interstate, or people looking for a little light
jazz music.
At the table where Duncan and his young protege Richie sat drinking
beer talking of inconsequential things. they felt the tell-tale
"Buzz" that presaged the presence of another Immortal. Duncan, being
more seasoned picked up the presence a scant few seconds before Richie
did. Both scanned their surroundings with a quick look around.
Her long hair was braided back, its raven sheen glistening , held in
place by a clasp made of silver. She was wearing a smartly cut
designer suit of purple velvet, which set off her dark eyes and high-
heeled boots. She came over to the bar and ordered a drink: a rum
with Coke and then went over to where Duncan and Richie were sitting
and straddled a chair.
"MacLeod." she said.
"Jeri. Is that you? It has been too long." You're looking well."
Duncan said
"Richie, Duncan, it's good to see you guys again." she replied.
"It's good to be seen." Duncan said, giving her a quick hug, which
she then returned and giving a peck on the cheek to Richie.
"What brings you back here?" Dawson asked, sidling over to a corner of
the bar where he could get into the conversation.
"I wouldn't have come back here, but I need your help." It's
important." Jeri said.
"You know you're welcome here any time, and whatever it is you need,
all you have to do is ask." Duncan said.
"I need you to do something for me." Jeri said.
"What is it?" Duncan asked.
"I need you go to Arizona. I'll provide the directions. There's
something there I need you to retrieve. At the moment all I have is
slip of paper with these directions written on them. "Come with me.
Come to me. I can give you truth unalloyed. I can set you free of
all your bonds." It is greater than you know. Listen to me. Come
with me."
I have had strange dreams of late." Jeri said, handing the sheet of
paper to MacLeod.
"Come with me. To the world's end. Stand with me. Forever.
"Where did you get this?" Duncan demanded.
"I'm really not sure. I remember waking up from a strange dream that I
couldn't remember, and that piece of paper with those strange lines I
found on my end table." Jeri said.
"Richie, we're going to Arizona." Duncan said.
"Thank you, Duncan. You don't know how much this means to me." Jeri
sighed wearily.
"Hey, Jer, you're welcome. You know that." Richie smiled.
____________________________
Arizona, The Grand Canyon
Several hours later, Richie, after having driven MacLeod's T-Bird to
Arizona, checked in at the hotel and acquired a road map to the area;
parked the car as he and Duncan were led out to the promontory.
Walking up to the guardrail, ignoring Mac's restraining death grip on
his leather jacket, Richie peered over the edge. "Richie, the
sign.. It says keep away from the guard railing." the older man
warned.
"Don't worry about hitting bottom. there isn't any." the guide said
cheerfully, his red-brown skin contrasted against the early morning
shadows streaking the rock formations of the canyon, which seemed to
swallow him up. "Very funny." Duncan said.
"Isn't there an other way to get down those trails?" Richie
complained, eying the unprepossessing donkeys that were being saddled
for them by the less than reassuring guide.
"Remember, never stand behind this old beauty here, or she'll kick.
Never approach a donkey on their blind side." the guide's voice droned
on giving unasked for advice on the care and feeding of their
mounts.
"Not unless you want to walk down on your own two feet, Richie." "It's
too hot for this." Duncan said, removing his long coat." he muttered.
"You've done this before?" Richie asked taking his red bandanna from
his head and retying his blonde hair back. "Oh, wait, I should have
known you've done just about everything at least once before." he
added.
"Not this time." Duncan replied,
"What?" Richie exclaimed. "Remind me again why we're doing this?" he
asked.
"It's because Jeri McKenna specifically asked for our help." Duncan
replied.
"Yeah but why here, barring the wide open spaces, fresh air, and
fantastic view?" Richie asked.
"Won't know until we find what she sent us to look for." Duncan
replied.
Mounting up on the donkeys, they followed the guide's lead down the
steep trail and down the maze-like formations of shale, limestone,
and sandstone, formed by centuries of geologic formation. It had been
sculpted in general by the downward cutting of the Colorado River,
flowing the canyon's lowest portions. They passed by lava flows,
hills composed of volcanic debris.
"Okay, I understand now why we had to take donkeys down this way."
Richie said as he began sliding off the his mount, gripped the rains
and hung on for dear life.
"Relax. It's only the first part that the worse. You'll get used to
riding a donkey or a horse, it's not quite the same as riding that
motorcycle of yours, is it?" Duncan laughed, watching Richie
squirming around on his donkey.
"Very funny." Richie said.
Eventually they found a rock formation that resembled an alligator,
which Jeri had mentioned when telling them what she wanted them to
find in Arizona. "That's it." Duncan said.
"Are you sure?" Richie asked.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Duncan said, dismounting and cautiously sliding
towards the cave entrance.
"You think there's another Immortal waiting for us?" Richie asked.
"I doubt McKenna would have set us up like that. It's just that I
believe in being on the safe side. There might a lot more mundane
denizens in that cave. Like a puma for instance." Duncan said.
Entering the cave, MacLeod found it empty of occupants at the moment.
Giving the place a through inspection he found a folded piece of paper
wedged into the walls of the cave and removed it. Unfolding it, he
ascertained what he already half expected, it was a map, Exiting the
cave, MacLeod waved to Richie: "Okay, I found what we were looking
for, We can go now."
"That was too easy. The way Jeri was talking you'd think this would
be a lot harder." Richie said.
"Maybe it will get more complicated once we talk a look at this map."
Duncan said.
"What makes you say that?" Richie asked.
"I'll let you know once we get back to the top of the canyon." Duncan
said. "We're going somewhere else. We'll make the airline
reservations as soon as we get back to the hotel." he added.
"Great." Richie muttered.
____________________
El Rub A Khalai, somewhere in Saudi Arabia
By early morning several days later, having flown on a commercial
airline to the Middle East, Duncan and Richie found themselves
mounted on the desert horses the Arabians were justifiably famous for
and were riding out into the desert, which meant the Suns' Anvil in
Arabic.
They had left the flatlands behind them the sparse greenery of
tamarisk and desert blooms giving way to cacti and dunes, a crescent
moon hung in the midnight sky, the stars were pin-pricks of silver
light. The endlessly shifting dunes appeared over in their immediate
line of sight stretching
away to the horizon. The air shimmered from the heat.
"And I thought Arizona was hot." So why are we like totally doing the
"Indiana Jones impression?" Richie asked.
"You asked to come along.' Duncan reminded him. "Besides, it's safer
to travel at night, the heat is less, well relatively less." Duncan
said.
When night fell, he was ready to ride, they were both clad as riders
who chose to affect the Olyenai fashion: the black robes, the head
cloth, their swords, and the white head cloth to block the worst of
the blowing dust. In their scrips they carried a carved ivory marker
of safe passage, the map they had discovered in Arizona, the food
provisions, and the water canteens. Duncan talked, unperturbed
by Richie's surly silence due to the heat. His voice was like the
rhythm of the riding, like the wind and all too seldom rain, in this
place. Like the open sky: steady, lulling, even comforting. Then he
would fall silent, that in turn would bring its comfort, a
companionship that would demand nothing beyond itself.
Elsewhere
The woman on the bed sprang awake, crying aloud. There were hands on
her arms, a voice in her ears. {Not that deadly voice} she thought.
{Not so soon. Not him.} Why does he come to me in my dreams?" she
wondered.
"It's only a dream." the soothing voice of the nurse said.
Lies inextricably woven with truth. With agonizing slowness the dream
retracted. She crouched, trembling, gasping as if she had been
running hard from a terror too great to bear. Jeri McKenna clutched
at the arms that held hair and collapsed back onto the bed.
_____________________
Encounter
Richie and Duncan felt their equilibrium rock as they sensed the
presence of another Immortal. More dunes stood out ahead. difficult
to surmount. Topping one such rise they found themselves in an
oasis. "Jeri! Is that you?" Duncan asked.
"You were expecting a genie or a houri? She smiled.
"What's a houri?" Richie asked.
"It's an Arabic word for a version of the Siren." Duncan answered.
"Why did you drag us out here. What is so important about this
particular place. Maybe we shouldn't have come." Duncan demanded.
"You know in your heart, if you did not come, you would have regretted
it." You had to come here." Jeri said. "Duncan, Richie, please
believe me. I had no ulterior motives. I did what I had to do. I had
to get you here." she said.
"Yeah right. How did you get here ahead of us?" Richie asked.
"Not all power is either pleasant or easy. Some must not be either.
I'm not sure if you're going to be able to believe this, but, you
see. I, uh teleported." she said.
"You what!" both men said in unison.
"Why, lass? What's your angle?" Duncan said.
"What I'd like to know is why you've sent us on this wild goose
chase?" Richie added.
"No angle, Duncan, Richie. Jeri pleaded. The water in the
tree-lined grotto laughed. "You have the gift. You cannot refuse
it."
"I can!" Duncan yelled.
"Hey, Whoever you are, get outta my head!" Richie yelled.
"So, too must you." the soft voice echoed, and it wasn't the wind in
this land of wind, sand, and sun in an endless cycle. The voice was
no longer high, however, it was shading into deeper tones, hauntingly
alien, far different than the tones both men were associated with the
woman called Jeri McKenna. She seemed to have lost all traces of her
Scottish accent.
"You're not McKenna!' Duncan yelled.
"How can you be so certain?" Richie asked.
"Duncan, how can you say that?" she asked.
"For lack of anything better, you may look like her, but you don't
smell or feel like her." You're not wearing her perfume. I think that
for Immortals who've known each other for several hundred years,
have certain ways, patterns, mannerisms, an aura that one can
identify. And if this "person" was her, she wouldn't have dragged us
out here. She's wearing her sword on the wrong side, and the scars
on her palm are on the left. Jeri's right-handed."
"Wow, I'm impressed." Sherlock MacLeod." Richie said.
"Thank you. Elementary My dear Mr. Ryan." Duncan replied. ____
Revelations
"Rats! Foiled again!" The person who looked like Jeri McKenna said,
and with a snap of her fingers the semblance of their friend vanished
leaving behind a tall, sandy-haired man, who stood about six feet
tall and wore a crimson red tailored uniform sporting a silver
stylized lapel pin.
"Who the hell are you?" they asked at the same time. "Where's Jeri?"
Duncan added.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am called Q" he announced.
"Q? What kind of lousy name is that?" Richie asked.
"Hey! Who's telling this story? Me or you? Okay, I'm an entity from
the Q Continuum and I'm Immortal just like you, just like McKenna.
And don't worry, the woman is fine. I stashed her somewhere safe
while I borrowed her semblance. You see, I know all about
Immortals." his voice dropped to a low conspiratorial whisper and he
added: "I created them.".....The Gathering, .... The Quickening..
the rules, the works. Although why they added that rule about not
fighting on holy ground is beyond me." he explained.
"Is this guy for real?" Richie exclaimed.
"Well, I've got news for you, whoever you are. You see, there's just
one problem."
Duncan said folding his arms across his chest, "I don't believe you.
And as far as I'm concerned you're wasting your breath and our time."
he said.
"Yeah, I'm with him. If you created the Immortals, which I seriously
doubt, then how come nobody's ever heard of you before?" Richie
demanded, making a mental note to check with Joe Dawson when they
returned to the States, to see if the Watchers had ever heard of this
lunatic.
"I did! I did!" the man who called himself Q said excitedly, jumping
up and down. "Look what I'm offering you. How would you like to be
able to travel anywhere in the blink of eye? I know what you're
thinking, you want to check on me with your friend Dawson, I get you
back to Washington without the cumbersome details of primitive
aircraft all in a matter of seconds! How would you like to be
able to do that? You'd have an edge in the Game, you'd have a power
no other Immortal has." What do you say?" he added, an eager gleam in
his eyes.
"You said Jeri's safe. Where is she?" Duncan demanded.
"Whatever it is you're selling! I don't want any." Richie added.
"You want to see McKenna? Fine. Your wish is my command!" Snapping
his fingers the odd entity called Q produced a shimmering
quicksilver light from his hands, and in one quick motion the world
rocked underneath their feet.
"I've got a bad feeling about this, Mac." Richie muttered.
"You and me both." Duncan whispered back.
Suddenly the immediate world vanished in a prismatic burst of light,
of swirling colors banded with concentric circles of black in the
void. A void, which made Duncan think eerily of the electrical field
similar to a Immortal Quickening. Finding Richie's arm in the void,
he gripped onto as a solid lifeline of reality as their consciousness
fled to a safer corner of the universe.
THE END