Lost

[Vesta Shade]

"Yeah, yeah, bite me." Was Matthew's muttered retort on that looking much like a teen who was just told he was grounded.  

[Gaston Marceau]

The lack of immediate response to his call brought an annoyed scowl to Gaston's face. Not that MacLeod should drop everything, but even the slightest delay and the younger Immortal rather paranoid about what was going on. Honestly, if anyone found out quite how much he was worrying right now, Gaston would have to behead the person to prevent Methos from finding out, leading to what would surely be no end of teasing.

Gaston glanced briefly down at the endless expanse of ocean, and his spirits were brightened ever slightly by the landmass just becoming visible along the horizon.

And then his cell phone rang. He quickly jabbed the button patching the call through the Blackbird's comm system. "Marceau here..."  

[Immortal Methos]

"Gaston," MacLeod's voice answered, words clipped with his own stress. "He's still alive, but he's in the wind. Do you remember where Joe's is?"

He was taking a round-about route away from the Waffle House, neatly avoiding the approaching police cars.  

[Gaston Marceau]

From the tone of Mac's voice, Gaston could tell there had been trouble. He didn't press the Highlander for more details, knowing he'd likely get all the news on his arrival.

"Yeah, pretty sure." He replied. "If anything, I can follow the Interstate." He left out how he found the place last time by hopping a guard rail and shooting up the street outside the bar.

"As for the rest, I suppose the news could be worse." Alive but in the wind? Gaston frowned slightly. "We'll get him. See you soon."  

[Vesta Shade]

There was a frown from Mat, these people know too many people, not that it made sense either way, but still, it was creeping him out. He stayed silent, mainly watching out the window in boredom.  

[Immortal Methos]

"Right," MacLeod acknowledged, ending the connection. He then glanced again at the boy sitting in the seat next to him. "I'm Duncan MacLeod," he said. "You are?"  

[Vesta Shade]

"A person that ain't gonna randomly help out people no more if it leads to all this s**t, otherwise called Matthew Bloodturn." He only gave a last name because Duncan gave one, figured it'd be rude or something otherwise, not that he was caring, well he had to be if he gave his last name. He grumbled a moment, "Why's that rightly matter?"  

[Immortal Ghost]

Luana didn't take a different way, mainly because she didn't know a different way, besides the cops were far more interested in the reported gunfire then people driving around like normal. It wasn't till a few minutes down the road she addressed Phoenix, "What happened Phoenix?" All she got in answer was a shrug which got her to pause, "Not a helpful answer." Another shrug, at which point Luana gave up for the moment, first get to Joe's in one piece, then figure out why her friend was being a pain in the a**.

 

[Immortal Methos]

"You should never be sorry for helping someone out, Matthew," Duncan said, "even if the person turns out to be an a*****e." The times that had happened to MacLeod were still fresh in his memory. "What we are should never overshadow the fact that we're also human beings. Adam is my friend. He's very dear to me. I'm glad you helped him."  

[Immortal Ghost]

Even when Luana pulled up outside Joe's she didn't get out, rather unsure she wanted to deal with them, she actually sat there a few minutes thinking on it before with a sigh she went to get out of the car. Phoenix didn't dare exit the car without Luana out of it first, after what just happened, no thanks, she'd stick to being highly jumpy and scared it worked for her. Still Luana stayed outside, waiting calmly for Duncan to hurry up.

 

[Vesta Shade]

Mat gave a snort"He ain't gonna remember you none, he ain't got no memory, so you consider him a friend yes, in the past he was a friend, now he's just kinda there, didn't even know his name till Phoenix wrote down his name, poor sap." Well he did feel rather bad for Adam, that would suck, no know anything about yourself, or past, or anything, gesh, "Oh he doesn't know anything about immortals either." Important fact to bring up, always.  

[Immortal Methos]

Duncan glanced at Mat, thick brows high over surprised brown eyes. "He's lost his memory?" His foot hit the accelerator and the classic muscle car leaped forward. He felt his heart pounding in his chest as the words sank in.

"He ain't gonna remember you none, he ain't got no memory...

Double negatives aside, it was a chilling thought. Methos, the world's oldest Immortal, with no identity. Like a lamb to the slaughter...  

[Vesta Shade]

"That's what I said ain't it?" Was her muttered question before hastily speaking back up, "Right, anyways, where we going?"  

[Immortal Methos]

Duncan gave the kid a look that plainly said what he thought of Mat's lack of empathy, but he also reminded himself that the boy had helped Adam and Phoenix, however reluctantly.

"Here," he said shortly, pulling into the small lot behind Joe's, next to Luana's car, and parking. "This bar belongs to a friend of mine. He knows about us, and he has a lot of resources. Come on."

MacLeod opened his door and climbed out, nodding in Luana and Phoenix's direction.  

[Immortal Methos]

Adam stood amid the blowing hot sands of a desolate world, his short spikey hair stiff with sand and sweat, the Seacouver sweatshirt sticking to his scorched body. He put his arm up to shield his eyes from the stinging grit, his face feeling like it had been scoured with sandpaper, and continued stumbling along.

Where am I? It's... almost familiar. There was a horse... wasn't there? The wind stopped as suddenly as it began, and Adam shuffled to a stand-still, dropping his arm to look around. The arid landscape was silent, an anticipation like the world was holding its breath raised all the hair on his body. Someone is coming...

Horses screamed, shrill and angry, and Adam whipped around to see three men on horseback behind him, watching him with an amused menace. How did they get here? I didn't hear anything!

The man on the shaggy black pinto was the one he had seen in the mirror, and his thin lips parted in a grin of good fellowship. The grin of the cat letting the trapped mouse know there will be a game before lunch.

Another man, lean and hungry-looking with a dirty blond mohawk, sat on a spirited palomino, sizing Adam up as he tested the edge of his knife. His teeth were sharp and somewhat filed.

The third man was heavy-set, with sparce red-gold hair, tiny eyes, and a cheerful grin, and he straddled a big boned red drafter, muscular and hairy-footed with hooves like dinner plates. He held a huge axe in one hand and the reins to a blue roan stallion in the other.

All the men wore facial tattoos, cobbled-together armour, and were heavily armed. Adam backed away a few steps and the men began to laugh. "What do you want?!" he yelled at them, beginning to panic,

The leader on the black pinto, the man he had seen before, smiled indulgently. "Why, you, of course, brother. But you knew that already, didn't you?" His pale eyes flashed red.