Chapter 7

“Alright I just want to say one thing and then I’ll shut up.” Mac said.

“I doubt it.” Tommy said. Mac had been talking his ear off for the last two miles. They’d successfully tracked the squadron’s trail to the Gentlemen of Kindness’s camp. Tommy softened a bit. Half of Mac’s rambling had been bringing him up to speed on the Gentlemen.

“Can I say it?” Mac said.

“Go for it.” Tommy said.

“How close are you to this Hero girl?” Mac said.

“I’m not having this discussion with you.” Tommy said.

“Look! I’m just saying, what do we need her for? We’ve got the watches, I can make the calculations to operate them. We can just leave.”

“We’re getting Hero.” Tommy said. At first he had mostly been concerned with finding her so she could take him home to his brother, but after what Mac had told him about the Gentlemen of Kindness he was really worried about her.

“But why?” Mac said. “From what you’ve said it doesn’t seem like you like her very much.”

“I don’t. She’s annoying and weird.She’s probably crazy. But...”

“But what?” Mac said.

“But it isn’t right okay? You don’t just leave people. And if the situation were reversed, I don’t think she’d leave me.” Tommy said.

“You don’t think she’d leave you.” Mac said. “Because you barely know her. For all you know she’d ditch you in a heartbeat.

Tommy tried to imagine abandoning Hero. Leaving her to be tortured by the Gentlemen of Kindness. Then what? Go home like nothing happened? To his friends? He didn’t have any. His family? That was a whole other bag of crazy. How would Dallas look at him if he abandoned someone to be tortured by psycho witch hunters. Besides he... he didn’t want to admit it but...he liked the excitement of it all. He was in the past! He’d met Mac Gnight! His favorite character of all time. Sure he was a bit of a tool, but that wasn’t Hero’s fault. No. No. He couldn’t leave her. He owed her.

“You guys aren’t even friends!” Mac said. “If we’re counting total time actually spent together I’ve known you longer than she has.”

If Tommy was operating off pure logic of course Mac was right. Hero was a criminal. Then again so was Mac. She’d dragged him here and he’d almost been stuck here or worse. He’d been reading Mac Gnight books all his life. he felt like he knew Mac almost as well as he knew himself. Then again, that was kind of the problem. In the books Mac was an anti-hero at best and was really closer to chaotic neutral on a Dungeons and Dragons alignment chart. He looked out for himself. If he happened to save some people while that was going on so be it. He didn’t know much of anything about Hero, but he still trusted her more than Mac.

“We’re going to get her.” Tommy said. “The end. Period. Exclamation point if you need emphasis.”

“That’s one of mine isn’t it? Which book?” Mac said.

Tommy played dumb. “Let’s keep moving.”

***

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid, stupid , stupid. Why hadn’t she taken one of those swords? What kind of a lesson was she trying to teach herself exactly? Don’t have violence be the first answer to every problem. Well look where that had got her. Her first foray into time without a weapon and she was going to lose her hand for it.

Maybe she deserved it. Maybe she deserved it after what she’d done to Booth. It had to have factored into the council’s decision to take her watches. She’d bloodied him. Humiliated him.

Almost killed him.

She’d had her reasons. Now she had rules. Don’t have a weapon too readily accessible. That was rule one. The way her brother had looked at her. What he’d said. “You’re funny Hero. You really are. I’d hate to be around when the jokes stop.” She was all out of jokes.

Varconne left the tent to make the necessary preparations for the amputation. He hummed as he left. Aaron watched her, making sure she didn’t escape. She was lucky his intellect was akin to that of a stupid dolphin or a really gifted wiener dog.

She knew what she had to do. She just really, really didn’t want to do it. It was going to be incredibly painful, but you did what you had to do and you didn’t complain. You did what you had to do.

Hero let out a long breath. She concentrated on keeping her right hand relaxed. Then she faked a cough attack, actually faked it so well she nearly started a new one. While she was coughing she jerked her hand downward. Pain jolted up her arm. She kept pulling and pulling. Slowly the needles pulled from her wrist. They dragged across her skin, leaving thin rivulets of blood. The needles punctured her skin every time a fake cough wracked her body. Then they would go deeper before she could get them pointed the right away again.

Aaron watched her cough and spasm and didn’t notice her hand was nearly free. With one last theatrical hack she pulled her hand free of the strap. Without looking, she grabbed whatever was closest on the standee, a pair of pliers, and surreptitiously threw them across the tent. It hit the brazier and made a clanging noise. Aaron stood to check on the noise. Hero reached over and fumbled with the buckle on the other strap. Her hand didn’t really respond to the commands she was sending it. Her fingers were dumb and slow, two things she couldn’t afford to be right now. Any second Aaron was going to notice what she was doing. She looked over and saw he had found the pliers. He was looking at them in confusion. Hero’s fingers finally found purchase on the tail of the strap. She pulled and the strap tightened. She pulled more and the buckle released. The strap loosened and she took the needles out of her wrist. When she looked up she saw Aaron had spotted her.

Using massive effort, that made her regret every sit-up she didn’t do, she brought herself to a sitting position. Aaron lurched at her. She flung her arm toward the standee. She groped around for a second before she grabbed a knife. Aaron reached out to grab her, but she grabbed his hand first. Hero slammed Aaron’s hand on the table and plunged the knife through it, pinning him to the table. His wailing filled the tent. She grabbed another knife and leaned forward. She cut the straps that held her legs. She swung her legs off the table and hopped down. She nearly collapsed as her legs struggled to support her. She used the table for support.

Aaron was building the nerve to pull the knife from his hand. Hero grabbed his hand, the one not currently knifed to a table, and pulled it toward one of the straps that had held her hand. She applied the strap to his wrist. Then she pushed the knife even deeper into Aaron’s hand. Hero grabbed Varconne’s favorite knife from the standee. She found a scabbard for it lying next to the roll that contained the instruments of torture. She hung the scabbard from her belt. Then she knelt down near the water barrel, looking for something. She emerged from behind the barrel with her bow tie in her hand. She strung it around her neck but her fingers lacked the dexterity to actually tie it. she left the loose ends hanging, telling herself it gave her a devil may care look. She opened the flap and left the tent.

***

Tommy motioned for Mac to stop.

“So do you have a plan or is this more of a wing it and wish for the best operation?” Mac said.

“I’ll ascertain the situation when we get there and make a plan from there. Now shut up. I hear people.” Tommy said.

“Yes drill sergeant.” Mac said and snapped off a salute.

Tommy crept forward. Mac clicked his heels, did a crisp about face, and followed him.

Tommy peered out from behind a tree. About fifty meters away was a camp set up in a clearing. Everything was black and white except for splashes of red on the flags that hung everywhere.

“Remind me again what these guys do? Like besides torturing people.” Tommy said.

“Charming little anti-witch league. Got into it before it was cool.” Mac said.

“We’ve gotta get in there.” Tommy said.

“Whoa! Slow down there blondie. I wasn’t being funny when I asked if you had a plan. These boyos are dangerous. And they aren’t too picky wit’ who they torture to death.” Mac said.

“Do you have any suggestions or are you just a really annoying encyclopedia?” Tommy said.

“Feelings blondie. I have feelings.” Mac said.

“If you don’t want me to hurt more than your feelings-“ Tommy said.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know. Just out of curiosity, do you ever tire of making idle threats?” Mac said. “You sound like a bloody episode of Law and Order.”

He ducked to avoid Tommy’s hand swinging out to smack him on the head.

“Not so idle after all. Fine.” Mac said.

Mac darted forward to survey the camp more closely. Tommy followed.

“Right. Hero is most likely being held in that tent there.”

Mac pointed at a large tent at the center of the camp. The tent was the only one with a red sigil Tommy couldn’t quite make out. “If I’m remembering correctly from year 10 history that’s the healing tent.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Tommy said.

“It’s not that kind of healing tent.” Mac said. “It’s for healing your soul.”

“And how do you do that?” Tommy said.

“Sharp pointies mostly. A light drowning if they’re feeling ambitious.” Mac said.

“We’ve got to go get her.” Tommy said.

Screams emanated from the tent.

“I’m starting to come around to your way of thinking.” Mac said.

Hero exited the tent.

***

Hero only made it a few steps before she plowed straight into Varconne. He had a saw and a manic grin until she barreled into him. The grin dropped abruptly as he slicked back his mussed hair. Several men flanked him.

“You.” Varconne said. He pointed and the men grabbed her.

Hero sneered. “Yeah. Me-“ Varconne slapped her across the face before she finished what was sure to be a biting and witty retort. She licked the blood gathered at the corner of her mouth and smiled. The smile widened into an unsettling grin. Her eyes were red rimmed with black. The smile actually more resembled an animal baring its teeth. Her teeth were red from the blood in her mouth. All in all it was quite the intimidating image.

She spat in one of her captor’s face. When he let go to wipe his face she grabbed his head with one hand and brought it in for a head butt. He clutched his face, blood spurting from his nostrils.

She used her other captor’s momentary distraction to wrench her other arm from his grasp. She grabbed the front of his shirt and brought him close so she could elbow him in the face. He fell to the ground, groaning.

More men emerged from tents all around her, blinking in the sun. Hero growled in frustration. She pulled the knife from the scabbard on her belt. She held the knife back hand style. It hurt to grip.

Varconne saw the knife. “That’s one of mine.”

“Want it back?” Hero said as she pulled off her bow tie and used it to tie the knife to her hand. She pulled it tight with her teeth.

A large man grabbed the arm that held the knife. Hero twisted her wrist and the knife circled the man’s wrist, severing several tendons. He was on the ground in seconds, screaming. The sounds he made were almost inhuman. In Hero’s addled mind she thought of an orangutan being gutted.

***

Mac thumped Tommy on the arm. “Oi! You didn’t tell me she was a bloody psychopath.” He didn’t sound all that upset.

“I didn’t know.” Tommy said. “I’ve known her like six hours.”

Tommy looked at Mac while Mac watched Hero. Mac didn’t seem as disturbed by Hero’s display as he purported to be.

“We should help.” Tommy said.

“Looks like she’s taking pretty good care of herself.” Mac said.

***

Two men rushed at Hero from either side. She dropped to a crouch between them. They crashed into each other. She slashed one of their achilles tendon and stabbed the other one in the foot.

The men grew more wary of approaching her, despite Varconne’s constant exultations to “Get her.” A very tall man with a narrow nose reluctantly stepped forward. He drew his sword. Before he pulled the sword from its scabbard, Hero rushed forward and pushed his hand down so he couldn’t unsheathe the sword. She kicked his knee and it bent at an unnatural angle. She kicked it again and again and again. When he was on the ground she stomped on it. When he crawled away she took his sword. Varconne wasn’t yelling anymore. He had blended into the crowd.

“Come on then!” Hero roared. “Is there no one else?”

Crack.

She felt a blunt overwhelming pain.

She thought how many more heads can this old head take?

Then fade to black.

***

Mac’s hand muffled Tommy’s warning.

Hero fell to the ground. She didn’t get up.

Tommy tried to yell through Mac’s hand. Mac wrapped both hands around Tommy’s head.

“You’ve got ‘ta be quiet blondie.” Mac said. “We’re no good to her if we’re standing right next to her at the gallows.”

Tommy tried to say okay but it sounded more like “Mlarf.”

Mac pulled Tommy’s head to his chest and stroked his hair. Tommy glared up at him from his disadvantaged position. “I know. I know. It’s alright now. Shhh.” One hand still covered Tommy’s mouth.

Tommy narrowed his eyes and bit Mac’s hand.

“Ow!” Mac removed his hand from Tommy’s mouth.

“What are they gonna do?” Tommy said.

“Varconne, that’s the leader, has probably decided she can’t be cured, not exactly a departure from our regularly scheduled programming. So I’d say there’s going to be a hanging.” Mac said.

Indeed there did seem to be an air of excitement in the camp. Men were buzzing about, preparing. They hadn’t had a hanging in ages. Varconne promised, once he purified a witch they could hang her because even though the evil had left her body she still needed to be punished for allowing the evil to enter her body in the first place. This was preferable, they reasoned, because at least her soul wouldn’t be cast down to hell. For four months every witch had died in the healing tent. So it was time for a hanging. Obviously the Mad Witch Queen, as they had taken to calling her, wasn’t cured, but she’d hang all the same. It didn’t make much difference to the men where her soul ended up.

The camp lit up with gossip and rumors about the Mad Witch Queen. The Mad Witch Queen who’s eyes turned black when she was angry. The Mad Witch Queen drank blood. The Mad Witch Queen could make herself as tall as a tree. She was married to Lucifer. She moved faster than anyone had ever seen. When she was fighting she grew extra arms. It was the most excitement the camp had seen in months. The men loved her and couldn’t wait for her to hang.

A time was set. An hour before dusk they would march to town and have a public hanging in the gallows at sunset. It was good to remind people of the important work they were doing, even if they public couldn’t know who they were.

***

Hero’s first thought upon waking was she probably wasn’t brain damaged. She ran through the first fifty digits of pi and the Beatles song catalogue just to be sure. Everything seemed to be in order. She opened her eyes, and discovered she’d been blindfolded and strapped to a chair.

She needed to figure out where she was. It wasn’t sweltering hot, so she wasn’t back in the torture tent, otherwise known as the healing tent. You could always tell how evil a group was by how innocuous their terminology was. Friendly fire. Resettlement. Enhanced interrogation techniques. Healing tent. It made Hero sick. If you were going to be evil don’t wrap it up in a pretty box. If you’re so damn sure you’re in the right then be upfront about your techniques. Don’t torture people and call it a healing.

She hoped Tommy was okay. She felt guilty for not thinking of him sooner. she heard rustling and someone entered the tent. Her whole body tensed. She was completely powerless. Whoever it was moved extremely quietly. He walked forward and knelt beside her. She heard his knees pop, it was the only sound in the tent besides her breathing.

Delicate fingers skimmed over her palm. They untied the bow tie from her hand. Hero hissed in pain. Her blood had welded the fabric to her skin and it hurt to remove. Whoever it was leaned close, concentrating on the task at hand. He smelled the way Hero imagined a moth would smell. Dusty, but strangely light and clean. He took the knife and let go of her hand. Whoever it was stood. Perhaps he was leaving? No. He simply walked to the entrance and opened the flap of the tent. Hero could hear the rustle of the canvas and she could feel a triangle of heat on her face as light leaked into the tent. Still daytime then, she ascertained. She’d been out for three hours at most. She heard the sloshing water as whoever it was lugged a bucket of water over to her chair. She heard him fill a cup with water. He then poured the water over her hand. It was warm. Whoever it was gently rubbed the blood and grime away from her hand. He repeated the process on her other hand.

Hero didn’t relax for a second. She didn’t know what the hell this was, but she didn’t like it. Something bad was going to happen.

Then a damp cloth touched her face, washing away the blood and muddy eyeliner. The cloth dabbed at the wound on her temple. He dipped the cloth in the bucket and she heard drips of water hit the water in the bucket as he wrung out the cloth. He scrubbed her knuckles which were bruised and crusted with blood.

Hero had never much held to the old adage that whoever spoke first lost. Mostly because if she did she would constantly be losing. However, this seemed like one of the times where pretending to be the strong silent type would be advantageous. So she kept her mouth shut and tried to enjoy this precious time between beatings.

“I suppose you know what happens next.” The man said. He had that odd cartoon snake voice. Varconne.

“Guess I couldn’t be cured huh?” Hero said.

“It’s true. I couldn’t save you.” Varconne said.

“Points for trying mate.” Hero said. “Hey. For funsies. What are you doing? “

“You must be cleansed for your death.” Varconne said.

“Oh. Great.” Hero said.

There was a long pause. “Might I make a confession?” Varconne said.

“You know you can tell me anything. I promise I won’t get mad.” Hero said.

“I can’t wait to see you dead. For your incessant talking to stop. For those legs of yours to finally stop kicking while you strangle to death.” Varconne said.

He washed her hair. Hero shivered as she imagined those long pale fingers working into her scalp.

“Completely fair.” Hero said. “Lot’s of people feel that way. I wouldn’t get your hopes up though. You know what they say about witches. They take a licking and keep on kicking.”

Varconne combed her hair with his fingers and braided it.

“You’ve got a pretty good racket going here. Be your creepy self and get hailed as a hero. Torture innocent people for fun.” Hero said.

“You’re not innocent Mad Witch Queen.” Varconne said. He was one sick twist, but he had a point. Hero dug her fingers into the arms of the chair. She didn’t like Varconne taming her hair down.

“Mad Witch Queen?” Hero said.

“The men think only a queen could be so powerful.” Varconne said.

“I’m flattered.” Hero said.

“Don’t be.” Varconne said.

“Don’t tell me how to live my life you wanker.” Hero said.

“When you’re dead I’ll peel off your meat and burn your bones.” Varconne hissed. She wouldn’t survive. Not like the last one. That damnable Sebastian O’Connell.

“That’s why you don’t have a lot of friends.“ Hero said.

The flap of the tent rustled again. There was low murmuring. Varconne leaned close and whispered in her ear. She could hear the smile in his voice. “Prepare to die Mad Witch Queen.”

***

Tommy and Mac followed the Gentlemen of Kindness as they marched into town. Hero was blindfolded and strapped to a chair. They carried her like she was the bride at a demented jewish wedding. Her hair was braided and she was no longer covered in blood.

“We should grab her now.” Tommy said.

“Oh grand plan.” Mac said. “We can’t take that many of them.”

“We wouldn’t have to. We’d just turn Hero loose and make sure no one sucker punches her.” Tommy said.

“How do you propose to reach her? She’s surrounded.” Mac said.

“Well what do you suggest?” Tommy said.

“We should wait until the men are distracted with prepping for the hanging.” Mac said.

“That’s getting pretty down to the wire.” Tommy said.

“Who is the star of a best-selling book franchise and who is just some guy?” Mac said.

At that point they reached the town. Mac and Tommy darted from building to building, following the processional. The men finally stopped near the court house where the gallows were constructed. Tommy and Mac hid next to a produce vendor tent. A few townspeople noticed the Gentlemen’s approach. They scampered off to tell their friends and relations. Soon enough a crowd had gathered. Tommy guessed there wasn’t a whole lot of entertainment in the dark ages.

The Gentlemen untied Hero, leaving her blindfold on, and marched her up the steps of the gallows. She tripped. They grabbed her and steadied her. A ripple of excitement shot through the crowd. Men put their children on their shoulders to give them a better view. Teenage girls stood on their tiptoes and boys impatiently elbowed their way to the front.

A man ascended the steps. He was resplendent in full military regalia in full black. The creepy man who had clubbed Hero, Varconne, followed behind. His hands clasped behind his back, his face free of white makeup but still deathly pale. the crowd errupted in excited whispers.

The military man, "Captain Dunfaire" Mac hissed into Tommy's ear, stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"Today you stand witness to the execution of this witch." Captain Dunfaire pointed at Hero. "She stood trial and underwent tests and was rightly convicted. Her sentence is to hang from her neck until dead." Captain Dunfaire smirked. He and Varconne withdrew to the shaded back of the gallows.

"Got any ideas best seller?" Tommy said.Mac didn't respond.

"We shall now allow the witch her final words." Captain Dunfaire said.

"Come on man. you've gotta have some plan." Tommy said.

"Ok." Mac said. "She gets last words. Based on what you've told me about her that only gives us six or seven hours to come up with a plan." He saw the murderous look on Tommy's face. "Just trying to inject a little levity."

Hero opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a single word out one of the men gagged her from behind. He was laughing. The crowd joined in. Tommy saw Hero's shoulders go up and down as she took large hitching breaths around the gag. The executioner slipped a noose around her neck. All of this was somehow made worse by the blindfold. She couldn't prepare herself. Each new indignity came as a shock.

"Yo. Wake up!" Tommy snapped at Mac. "Do something or she's going to die."

Mac said nothing. Instead he grabbed a tomato from the bin beside him and hurled it over the entire crowd. It flew gracefully and exploded into a pulpy mess on Hero's shirt.

"What are you doing?" Tommy said.

Mac ignored him and lobbed another tomato. This one hit Hero in the face. She just stood there as tomato juice worked its way down her face and neck and down her shirt collar. A few kids grabbed a basket filled with rotting fruit from behind Tommy. They hauled it through the crowd. People grabbed fruit and threw it at Hero.

Tommy grabbed Mac by the lapels before he could grab a head of lettuce and throw it at Hero. He punched Mac in the face, irrational fears be damned. He drew back to do it again when Mac threw his hands up.

"Wait! Wait!" Mac said. "Look." He pointed toward the crowd. All the people worked themselves into a fervor. The crowd threw the fruit with more and more force. The goal was no longer to humiliate, but to injure.

Hero doubled over when a melon hit her in the stomach. Her feet slid on the slimy floor and she fell to her knees. The noose tightened and she began to choke. The crowd roared in approval. Two of the Gentlemen of Kindness hauled her to her feet. The crowd threw fruit at the Gentlemen as well.

"See?" Mac said. "They won't hang her until order is restored. Varconne wants a respectful audience. We've gotta make sure he doesn't get one."

Tommy lowered his fist. "So what's next?" He said.

"Get the witch!" Mac yelled. His voice cut through the whole crowd. There was a moment of silence before the crowd lost its collective mind and rushed the stage.

"What the hell?" Tommy said.

"She can't fight a noose, but she can fight a mob." Mac said. He launched himself into the crowd, pausing only to discretely lift a guard’s sword from its scabbard.

***

Hero felt the floor rumble underneath her. It sounded like things had escalated into the crowd rushing the stage. At least the fruit throwing had stopped. She could still taste rotten tomato and the smell was reminiscent of a post-apocalyptic vineyard.

Hero itched to do something, but all she could do was stand. She was flying blind and had a noose around her neck. Her hands were literally and firguratively tied. If she moved she might fall and really choke this time. Her throat still burned from her first foray into asphyxiation.

She felt the thump of someone vaulting onto the stage. She wanted to flinch but she held still. Then she heard the unmistakable sound of a sword whistling toward her. She felt a brief tightening of the noose then it fell loose. Whoever wielded the sword had hacked through the rope.

Next the wielder of the sword cut the rope that bound her hands together. He then removed the gag and blindfold. She turned to face her rescuer. It was a young man with dark hair, a split eyebrow, a barely healed broken nose, and what appeared to be lines of either dirt or makeup.

"Who're you?" Hero said.

"Tell ya later. Promise." Mac said. He thrust the sword into Hero's hands. "For now, go. Fight. Win." He grabbed her by the shoulders, pointed her at a group of Gentlemen and shoved her forward.

The sword he had given her was gigantic. Thankfully it was a hand and a half sword so the pommel was long enough for her to grip with both hands. She wasn't sure, with her damaged hands, if she'd be able to wield it with just one.

The Gentlemen all drew their swords. She lunged forward. Her intent was to incapacitate as quickly as possible. Melee combat was a challenge under the best of circumstances and these were nowhere near the best of circumstances. She jumped down from the gallows and waded though the crowd.

Hero lost herself in the fight. She found herself checking out and only checking back in when she was surrounded by men on the ground. She acted without knowledge or forethought. She kicked, punched, stabbed and sliced her way through the crowd.

After a while she heard someone yelling from her right side.

"Hero. Hero!" The voice yelled.

For a moment she didn't register that the voice was calling her. She swam through seven leagues of black water to emerge and turn toward the calls. She saw Tommy waving at her frantically from behind a produce stand.

She ignored the urge to run toward him and kept fighting the crowd. She didn’t even notice he surroundings until she heard someone murmur “Call it quits, love.” She fought off an assailant and ran toward Tommy, shoving people out of the way. She finally reached him with her arms outstretched for an embrace, just relieved to see a friendly face, when it occurred to her, in a rare moment of self-awareness, that he might not be that excited to see her.

She dropped her arms to her sides, the broad side of the sword slapped against her leg.

"Hi." She said.

"Hi." Tommy said.

Hero decided to ignore self-awareness and hugged Tommy. She threw her arms around him. Tommy, not being much of a hugger kept his hands at his sides until she released him. He grabbed one of her hands.

"These look deep enough to cause nerve damage." Tommy said.

"I've had kind of a hard day." Hero said.

"I can tell." Tommy said.

"I'm really sorry about this." Hero said.

"You couldn't have known." Tommy said.

"Stuff like this tends to happen a lot." Hero said.

"Ah."

"Yeah."

"Oi! Why're you two just standing around?" Let's go!" Mac said as he ran up to them. He grabbed both of their hands and dragged them away from the town square. He led them toward a house. He tried the door and found it locked. He turned to Hero.

"You. Charge."

Hero dropped her shoulder and rammed the door. It burst open. Hero turned to Mac.

"Don't get used to that." Hero said, rubbing her shoulder. She walked over to the dining area and collapsed in a chair. The home was charmingly rustic. Standard fair for the middle ages.

"So I guess we'll lie low until we can get out of the country." Hero said. She closed her eyes as if she planned to sleep.

"Or we can go back to my time." Tommy said.

"My watches are gone. I can't travel without them. I am so sorry Tommy." Hero said.

"Your watches aren't gone." Tommy pulled the watches from his pocket and handed them to her.

"Where did you find them?" Hero said. She strapped the watches to her wrist, starting to fell slightly better. She didn't like being without her watches.

"Mac's wrist." Tommy said.

"Who's that?" Hero said.

Mac stepped forward. "That'd be me."

"What kind of a name is that?" Hero said.

"My parents loved Dean Martin." Mac said.

Before Hero could respond, someone barged into the house. It was Varconne and he was seething with rage. He rushed across the room and launched himself at Hero. His fingers wrapped around her throat, covering up the rope burn. He squeezed, completely intent on choking the life out of her. His fingers bore into the sides of her neck with a sort of dull ache that got duller as she ran out of oxygen. Hero tried to pry his fingers from her throat, but after so much abuse her damaged hands were basically useless. He had attacked her while she was sitting down so she had no leverage or power. Things got swimmy around the edges. Her legs skittered beneath her. A trapped spider trying to right itself. Varconne was very close to getting his wish of seeing her legs stop kicking as she finally died.

Hero looked up and no longer saw Varconne. Instead it was Booth choking the life out of her. Booth’s hands wrapped around her neck. Hero stopped fighting. She wouldn’t fight Booth again. This was how it needed to happen.

Once Tommy realized Hero couldn't dispatch the mad man by herself he moved quickly. He wrapped his arms around Varconne's middle and pulled backward. Varconne wouldn't let go, he dragged Hero with him. Mac just stood and watched.

"Help me!" Tommy yelled.

Mac ran over and pried Varconne's fingers from Hero's throat. Hero fell to her hands and knees. Gasping, sobbing, for breath.

“Booth! Booth! I’m sorry.” She screamed. “I’m sorry.” She ducked her head to hide her streaming face.

Tommy held Varconne. Varconne struggled to free himself but Tommy held fast. Mac ran over to Hero.

“That isn’t him!” Mac yelled. “It’s Varconne. Hero. It’s Varconne. It isn’t Booth.”

But she couldn’t hear him. She tried to get to Varconne. Whether to give him another shot at killing her or to beg for forgiveness, Mac had no idea. He held her back.

“Don’t weaken!” He screamed in her face. There was a flash of steel behind Hero’s eyes as she got herself under control. Her cries eventually turned into pained shudders, and then those too were gone. Mac helped Hero to her feet.

She slowly walked over to Varconne, struggling with each step.

"Hero. Don't." Tommy said.

Hero pulled herself up to her full height, towering over all the men in the room. Varconne had his favorite knife hanging from his belt. She snatched it away.

"Mine." She said. She reeled back her fist and punched him in the face.

Tommy released him and Varconne crumpled to the ground, not moving. Hero put Varconne's knife back in its scabbard on her belt.

"Alright Tommy. Let's go." Hero said.

"Uh. I promised Mac he could come with." Tommy said.

"Well I didn't. I can't just snatch someone from the past and..." She trailed off as Tommy stared at her. "Right."

"Besides. He's not from the past. He's a time traveler too."

"Fine." Hero said, swiftly losing all motivation to care. Just add it to the rap sheet. Whatever.

She draped an arm over each of their necks. Tommy noticed it was more of a catch me or I'll fall over gesture and less of a group hug gesture. The adrenaline that had kept her going had finally run out. Her hands met in the middle and she punched a few buttons on her forward watch. She thought she heard someone calling her name. She dismissed it. She thought she saw something in the window. She dismissed that as well.

"Let's get the hell out of here."

And they did.