6.8  ·  Redemption Arc

“What do you mean you need my help?”

Alia was thrown for a loop. Of all the possibilities she’d imagined when the leaper made themselves known, this had to be far, far down the list.

“Help. H-E-L-P. Assistance. Support. Surely you are familiar with the concept?” he flailed his arms, holding the gun by its barrel, before leaning in close to her, his hot breath against her cheek.

“Listen, bestie. Here’s the gossip around the water cooler back at base: Lothos has a big-time bounty on your head. And it’s not because he’s all heartbroken over your betrayal, it’s because of what you represent.”

He moved his lips to her ear, whispering. “Hope.”

Alia drew away from him, making eye contact. Thames’s wild eyes shone with a layer of what may have been tears.

“Lothos can’t have subordinates thinking there’s a way out, now can he? Killing you would be a clear message: defy him and die. But with you out here, alive? Well, maybe we all get some ideas. Maybe there’s a little mutiny. Maybe Lothos gets a hatchet to his bitch-ass motherboard.”

Thames flipped open his gun’s cylinder and let the bullets drop to the sand.

“Look, I’m running out of time. She’ll be back any minute.”

He grabbed a handful of sand and covered up the shining ammo, before closing the cylinder.

“She?”

Thames looked at Alia as if the answer was obvious. And, she figured, it must have been.

“Zoey,” she said with a sigh.

“Oh, Alia, as soon as she saw you, she was mega PO’d that she wasn’t the leaper. But there’s no time to get into that now.”

He grabbed her by the arms. “I can’t let her know I’m not dancing to her tune, if you catch my drift. Just play along. Pretend it’s a loaded gun, capisce?”

“Why should I?”

“Aliaaa, come onnn!” Thames whined. “I thought you were trying to be the hero now. I’m begging you to help me; surely you can’t turn away an old pal who wants to change.”

His white teeth glinted as he gave her a wide grin. “WWSD: What Would Sam Do?”

Of course Sam would help him. But Sam is too trusting.

“Thames, I want to help you, but I can’t believe a word you say. You realise that, don’t you?”

Thames gestured wildly at the ground. “I literally just buried all my bullets. You can probably take me in a straight fight. I saw you smacking around that punching bag earlier. Don’t really want to be on the receiving end of one of those punches.”

He clutched his head in frustration, as he struggled to make his case. “I’m laying it all out, here. What more do you want from me? I could prostrate myself, if that’s what you need.”

He began to lower himself to the ground.

“Stop,” Alia said, feeling intensely uncomfortable. “Fine, I’ll play along. But… we both have to be careful. Zoey is crafty. She… lurks. Sometimes I had no idea she was there.”

Thames rose back to a kneel, beaming.

“You don’t have to tell me. She lost her fitness to leap when your boy Beckett unloaded a shotgun into her chest, and I got stuck with her looking over my shoulder.” He pouted. “Much preferred it the other way round. Which, frankly, is not unrelated to our current exchange.”

Alia touched a finger to the sore spot on her head, just under her hairline by her left temple. She winced as it bloomed with pain.

“You didn’t need to hurt me.”

“What, you were planning to come quietly?” He shook his head. “You know the drill.”

Alia frowned as she recalled Zoey’s callous words: ‘Skip the fuss, just concuss.’

As though Zoey’s words in her mind somehow summoned her, Thames stiffened, and gave her a pointed glance, before aiming the gun at her, and climbing to his feet. His expression shifted back to one of irreverence as he turned his head towards wherever Zoey had emerged.

“Evening, Z-Dog. Me and Alia were just having a catch-up sesh.”

“Z-Dog?” Alia said with a snort. “Oh Zoey, is that what you’re letting him call you?”

Thames smirked. “Oh, she hates it. But what’s she gonna do? Hit me?”

With a childish smile, he poked his tongue out in the direction of the hologram, who Alia imagined must have been fuming.

At one time I would have been able to see her too. They must have cut me out.

Thames listened to Zoey saying something for a moment, before turning back to Alia.

“So, seems our mutual BFF wants me to… put you through some things on her behalf. Tell me… how’s your pain threshold?”

Alia stared at him, eyes wide.

He expects me to play along with this?

*          *          *

When Sam awoke from a nap that couldn’t have lasted more than twenty minutes, Tim was staring at the force field as though he was willing it to do something.

“Something happening?” he asked, rubbing his eyes as he sat up.

“Nope, nothing,” Tim said, sounding frantic. “Incommunicado.”

He turned towards Sam, a glint of desperation in his eye.

“Quinn, I’m scared.”

“What is this all of a sudden?” Sam asked, standing. Tim pulled at his hair with his fingers nervously.

“What if all this was tricks?” he said, grabbing Sam by the shoulders. “They can make you see things. Things you want to see.”

“You said you didn’t tell ’em about John. How would they know to do this?”

Tim’s grip tightened. “I didn’t, but what if Sherri did? They coulda been playing us for information.”

Sam raised his hands, returning the grip.

“Hey, it’s alright. Breathe.” He demonstrated, taking a deep breath. Tim hesitantly followed his order, and they exhaled in unison. “Okay, hopefully we’re feeling a little calmer, thinking more clearly. Now listen, why exactly would they trick us into thinking we have a chance of escape? You kept saying their strategy was to make us all give up hope, right?”

“They let Sherri escape, so–”

“So they could see what she was gonna do, you told me.” Sam gave a slow, circular gesture with his hand. “But they have no reason to wonder about that with us, right? We’re just loose ends they’re getting ready to cut.”

Tim thought for a moment, before relaxing his grip.

“Yeah… yeah, I guess you have a point. I dunno why they’d want us to think we can get out of here.” He met Sam’s eye. “Thanks, I feel better.”

Sam gazed into Tim’s eyes, searching.

It was a similar line of thought to what he’d just described, that led Sam to say what he said next.

“Tim, I’m gonna get us out of here, but you need to promise me you won’t tell the Kromaggs anything else. Not now, not ever. Because there are things you’ll need to know that they absolutely can’t know.”

Tim’s eyes were saucers as he nodded. “I… I’m gonna die if we stay here, and I’m gonna die if they catch me, so there’s no use sayin’ anything else. I promise.”

Sam, hoping his gut was not steering him wrong, broke eye contact, and stepped back from Tim.

“In that case…” he held out a hand. “Hi, I’m Sam. I… well, I’m Sherri’s uncle. Pleasure to meet you.”

Tim froze for a moment, before blinking, looking Sam up and down, and tentatively grasping his hand.

“When did you…”

Sam gave a firm shake. “Just a few hours ago.”

“How do you… just take a guy’s place and nobody even sees it happen?”

“Trade secret,” he said with a wink.

Sam let go of Tim’s hand, and it dropped to his side, as the bewildered man stood in silent contemplation.

“Listen,” Sam added, with his voice lowered, “I can’t see John either, but I have my own guy out tracking down Sherri right now. When he gets back, we can come up with a real plan.”

Tim’s pale face gave a weak nod. He was a man facing his last chance to do something right, and Sam believed he had it in him.

“Tim, listen to me. We’re going to make it out, we just have to stick together and trust each other. Got it?”

The shell-shocked look on Tim’s face finally resolved into determination.

“Got it.” A smile formed on his lips. “I won’t let Sherri down this time.”