The Price of Friendship: Part 1---by Lennox MacDuff cpmills@indiana.edu (Comments are always welcome!! Hint hint!) Summary: Broadway makes a friend, who is captured by the Quarrymen. A tale of friendship, torture and loyalty. WARNING: Graphic content and language. Hello! Welcome to my third fanfiction! You can find my others at my website located at http://members.tripod.com/~movieland/gargoyles Just a further warning: there is torture in this story, and it’s not pretty for those involved. This is not one to read to the kiddies. The gargoyle characters belong to Disney. The other original characters are mine. Also, one of the Quarrymen is Australian, but he is NOT Dingo. Special thanks go out to Don Redmond, Cinnamon and Kealani Brown for all their help! Okay, with all that out of the way, enjoy. <>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<>^<> "Steve? Steve, honey, where are you going?" "I’m just going out to a movie, mom. Geez." "All right, but come straight home when it’s done." "All right, mom." Steve ran out into the backyard, letting the screen door slam closed. His hair blew in the wind, and his jacket was unbuttoned. He hopped over the fence at the back of his small yard and began to make his way to the movie theater. As he cut through neighbor’s yards, he looked at his watch. The digital face read 8:23. Twenty-two minutes until the movie started. Steve began to run, wishing that his mother hadn’t insisted he stay for dinner. Since they’d moved to the outskirts of New York, she had tried to be his "special friend". Steve knew she was just trying to help since he didn’t have that many friends of his own, but it still got on his nerves from time to time. The houses began to thin out as he entered the city. He knew that his mother didn’t like him to walk through the streets of New York at night, but the weather was too nice to take the car. Besides, the area was pretty much empty. The only discernible sound was the flap of his shoe, the heel loose and slapping the pavement with every step. As Steve approached the movie theater, he reached into his pocket only to find a hole. "Shit," he mumbled as he checked his other pockets. He had no money on him. He began to pace in front of the theater. How to get in? He kicked a Pepsi can and watched it skid into the street. How to get in, how to get in? Steve looked down the alley next to the theater and spotted the fire escape leading up to the roof. The alley was deserted, and with any luck the building would have a roof access. Steve smiled. There was more than one way to get into a movie. He glanced around to make sure no one was watching. When he was sure no one was taking notice, he darted into the alley. The final rays of the sun winked out of sight over the New York skyline. Although no one could see it, an incredible thing was happening on the castle mounted at the top of the famous Eyrie building, high above the clouds. Seven forms which had moments ago seemed merely the result of a master stoneworker now burst to life with a mighty roar. Shards of stone flew into the air and began to fall downward, only to be caught by the wind and pulverized against the sides of nearby skyscrapers before anyone could notice. Broadway yawned as he came out of his slumber. "What time is it?" he asked with a hurried tone of voice. Goliath smiled. He knew Broadway had been looking forward to the release of some new movie for weeks. He looked down at a clock Xanatos had recently installed on one of the castle walls. "Almost 8:40." "Oh man! I’ve only got five minutes!" After quickly brushing the last of the dust off himself, Broadway spread his wings and prepared to leave. He paused and looked at his mate. "Are you sure you don’t want to come, Angela?" "No, go on," she replied with a smile. "I’m almost done with the book I’ve been reading, and I’ve got to know how it turns out. Have fun, though." Angela kissed him on the cheek. He smiled lovingly at her for a moment, then leapt off into the night. Steve walked across the theater roof, brushing the grime from the old ladder off his hands. He paused for a moment, admiring the sky. There was still some light left even though the sun had set, but he could tell that it was going to be a nice night. On the far side of the roof Steve spotted a door. "Bingo," he said with a grin. He walked over to the door and turned the handle. To his surprise it was unlocked. He walked in, and was about to close the door behind him when he hesitated: the door might lock behind him. Just to be safe he left it ajar. He walked down a short flight of stairs and found a door and a small closet. The door was locked, so Steve poked his head into the closet. Wiring, film canisters, and a lot of dust. Steve decided that the door must lead to the projection booth, definitely not a place he wanted to just stroll into. Steve was about to leave when he noticed a sliver of light coming from the floor in the closet. On closer examination he saw that it was actually a trapdoor. Steve carefully opened it and found himself looking down on the balcony. It was old and dingy, but there were chairs and it didn’t look like it was being used. Steve lowered himself down and landed with a soft thud. The balcony was indeed old. The rug had faded from it’s original brilliant red to a dull rust, and the wallpaper was beginning to peel and bulge from water damage. *No wonder they’re not using this place* Steve thought. Below him moviegoers settled into their seats. The smell of popcorn wafted up to the balcony, making his stomach growl. After closing the trapdoor he tested a chair. Once he was sure it would hold his weight he sat down. Steve breathed deeply. The smell of popcorn seemed even stronger. Steve paused for a moment, then smelled again. It _was_ stronger. He looked behind his seat and found a large garbage bag. He opened it and saw that it was filled with popcorn. Gingerly Steve tried it. It was a little stale, but otherwise fine. Steve munched on his newfound treasure as the lights in the theater dimmed. On the screen a preview began to play. Suddenly Steve heard a metallic clang coming from the closet above him. "Shit," he swore as he jumped up and hid in the nearest shadow. He definitely did not want to be caught sneaking into a movie. If he was, he’d _never_ hear the end of it from his mother. As Steve watched, the trapdoor opened and a very strange someone began to lower himself down. Broadway silently landed on the roof of the theater. He made his way over to the open door, trying not to make any noise. He grabbed the door handle and stopped. He didn’t remember leaving the door open the last time he was there. Broadway shrugged. *Probably just someone up here cleaning* he thought as he walked down the stairs. Broadway let himself into the unlit closet. He usually let his eyes adjust to the dark, but there was no time, he could hear the previews starting. He began to sneak over to the trapdoor when his arm hit an empty film canister. It clattered to the floor. Broadway winced at the sharp sound, hoping no one had heard. He quietly replaced the canister and opened the trapdoor. The balcony was cool and dark as he lowered himself down. He grinned as the previews ended and the movie began. "Just in time," he whispered to himself with a smile. He plopped down in a chair and reached for his bag of popcorn. Instead of the plastic of the garbage bag, his hand touched the popcorn itself. "Oh man," he whispered. "I must have forgotten to close it." He tasted the popcorn and was delighted to find that it was still, for the most part, fresh. "Good brand," he mused as he turned his eyes toward the screen. Steve watched as the strange creature leaned back, enjoying the movie. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was a gargoyle, had to be. Steve had heard stories of them on the news but always brushed it off as a hoax. Now here one was, big as life. Bigger, actually, judging from the creature’s stomach. Steve struggled not to giggle at this thought. He _had_ to get a closer look. Steve slowly crept toward the creature. Without warning his foot caught on a tear in the carpeting and he tumbled to the floor. On the way down he grabbed a chair back to try to stop himself, but it came loose and snapped off in his hand. The gargoyle jumped up and stared at him. Steve stared back. The gargoyle swallowed. "Uh...hi." Steve blinked. Had this huge creature actually said "hi" to him? Actually _spoken_? "Hi," Steve replied. The awkward silence was marred only by the characters on the screen, but of course they neither knew nor cared about the event taking place. Steve slowly got to his feet. "Are...you one of those gargoyle things?" "Yeah," the creature replied sheepishly. "I’m called Broadway." He held out a clawed hand. "Steve Johnson," Steve said, cautiously taking the gargoyle’s hand. They shook. Steve’s stomach growled again. His eyes flicked down to the plastic bag at their feet. "Um...can I have some of that popcorn?" Broadway hesitated for a moment, then grinned. "Sure." Two hours later Broadway and Steve walked back up the stairs and onto the roof of the theater. They were chatting and joking like old friends. Broadway liked Steve. He wasn’t like most humans. He didn’t run or try to attack him. Steve just accepted him for what he was. And he liked movies almost as much as Broadway did. *Almost* Broadway thought with a smile. Steve liked Broadway too. The gargoyle liked to joke around and had a heart of gold. In the time that they had been together, they had learned a lot about each other. Because of his father’s job, Steve had moved around a lot in the past few years. New York was just the newest home for him. He never had the chance to make any real friends, and although he tried to mask it he was often lonely. Steve and Broadway stood at the edge of the roof, looking out at the stars. As Steve had predicted, it was a beautiful night. They stood silent for a moment, their breath puffing into little clouds in the cool air. Steve looked at his new friend with a sense of awe. He had always loved reading about medieval Scotland, and Broadway’s stories were incredible. He looked down at his watch. It was almost midnight. "Well, I guess I’d better get going," he said. "Mom’ll freak if I’m too late." "I can take you, if you want," Broadway said. "You mean...flying?" "No, I can’t fly. But I can glide." Steve looked at the street below. "I don’t know..." "Oh, come on. It’ll be faster than walking. Probably safer too." Steve grinned as he looked at the large gargoyle. "Yeah, okay." Broadway picked Steve up and held him like a mother holding a newborn baby. "Ready?" he asked. Steve nodded. Broadway backed up and leapt off the building, his wings open wide. Steve gasped as he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut. After a moment he opened them and saw that they were soaring high above the rooftops. "WHO HOO!!!" he screamed. Broadway smiled. He liked his new friend. Neither of them noticed a dark figure in the shadows of the rooftop next to the theater. The figure, dressed in midnight blue, watched the two soar off. He wore a black hood, and beneath it his eyes flashed...cold, hateful, deadly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellular phone. As he watched the two new friends leave, he dialed a familiar number. The office was immaculate. The single desk in the middle of the room had everything in its proper place. Pens, lamp, paper tray, computer monitor, everything was as it should be. A bookshelf set into the wall was filled with books, all in alphabetical order. On the other wall, two wooden doors were set in, looking almost like an oaken window. Behind them a television rested, its remote control set on top. At the desk a man sat alone, as he always preferred it. The man was wearing a neatly pressed suit, the right sleeve pulled up as he filled in the various forms and busywork that were holding his attention. His blonde hair was slicked back, and his thin mustache was neatly trimmed. The phone, resting quietly on the corner of the desk, rang. The man put down his pen and picked up the receiver. "Yes?" A muffled voice came over the line. The man’s eyes turned to ice as he listened. "Stay on them. Keep me informed." There was a click, and he was alone again. "No, Hudson. All you have to do is point and click. Like this." Lexington demonstrated to the aging gargoyle. He had been trying to teach Hudson the fine points of computer use for days, but Hudson stubbornly remained the most non-technical person the young gargoyle had ever known. Lexington sighed. At least he had gotten Hudson to stop insisting that the mouse used sorcery. The was a swooping sound outside, and Broadway entered the main hall. Goliath looked up from his novel. "You certainly were out for a long time." "Yeah," added Brooklyn. "Where were you anyway? I thought we were going to play Nintendo." Broadway grinned. "I was out with my new friend." Everyone began to talk at once. "Who is this friend?" "Where did you meet him?" "Are you sure it’s safe?" Goliath quieted them. "Broadway, I think you’d better explain." Broadway told his story of how he and Steve had met. After he had finished, Goliath cleared his throat. "Broadway, I am happy for you. The more humans we ally with, the better off our situation will be. However, I do not think you should rush into this. Remember Lexington’s dealings with the Pack." Lexington growled at the sound of the name. He still hadn’t gotten over the way the Pack had used him to get their hands on the rest of the clan. Angela put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It’s not like that at all," Broadway insisted. "Steve is one of the good guys." Hudson smiled. "We’re sure he is, lad. We’re just say’n that you should be careful, that’s all." "Yes," Goliath agreed. "I’m very happy for you, as are we all. But I think you should use caution, at least at first. Don’t tell him where we live, or who our friends are, until you’re sure you can trust him." Broadway thought Goliath’s words over, and decided that he was right. With that matter settled, the clan returned to their activities. Angela walked over to Broadway. She took him by the arm and led him out into the hall. "So when do I get to meet this new friend of yours?" Broadway grinned. "When do you want to?" A few days later Broadway and Steve were on the rooftop of another building. Steve was trying to teach Broadway how to play basketball. Broadway, on the other hand, was just trying to keep up with Steve. He was wiry and fast. They didn’t have a hoop to play with, but a quick trip to a garbage can filled alley solved that problem. The two had spent every evening together since they had met, and were fast becoming good friends. "Of course, Michael Jordan is the greatest slam-dunker of all time," explained Steve as they played. "He has the best hangtime of anyone in the NBA." "Hangtime?" Broadway asked with a puzzled look on his face. "Hangtime is how long a player stays in the air after he’s jumped. A really good player can stay up there for two or three whole seconds." Broadway laughed. "Is that all?" he asked. Grabbing the ball, he ran to the other side of the roof. He began to dribble as he ran toward the garbage can. Suddenly he leapt into the air and spread his wings wide. Slowly he drifted back down to the rooftop, dropping the basketball into the can as he landed. The gravel on the rooftop crunched under his feet. Steve cheered. "I think we have a new record," he said with a laugh. As he was speaking he noticed a shadow pass over the moon. "Say, what is that?" he asked. Broadway looked in the direction Steve was gesturing. "Oh," he said. "That’s someone who wanted to meet you." "Who?" Steve asked. Before Broadway could answer the shadow swept down and landed on the rooftop behind him. It was a female gargoyle. She was purple with brown hair. Steve stared, his mouth open. Broadway saw his reaction and grinned. "Steve, this is Angela. Angie, this is my new friend Steve." Angela gave Broadway a look. She hated being called ‘Angie’. She had pretty much trained him not to, but when the large gargoyle was excited he sometimes forgot. Angela sighed. *Some things take time* she thought. "Pleased to finally meet you, Steve," she said. "We’ve heard a lot about you." "I’ve heard about you too," said Steve. He winked at Broadway. "You’re right, she is cute." Broadway’s cheeks flushed. "Well...uh.." Angela smiled. "Why, thank you Steve. It’s nice to know you think so, Broadway." She kissed the blushing gargoyle on the cheek. Steve glanced at his watch. "Oh man..." he began. "Yeah, I know," Broadway said. "Your mom. Come on, I’ll take you home. Coming, Angie..." he caught himself just in time. "...la?" "No thanks. I’ll meet you back home." Broadway scooped Steve up in his arms and they were off. Angela smiled at them before she launched herself back toward the castle. In the shadows of a nearby building, several men in hoods stood watching the two friends leave. Looks of hate and disgust passed between them. One of them closed his cellular phone and put it in his pocket. "All right," he said. "We’ve got our orders. Are the hammers charged?" "Yes sir." "Good. Let’s do it." Broadway dropped Steve off just down the block from his house. Steve had decided that it wouldn’t be good to let his mother know that his new friend was a gargoyle, at least not yet. "Same time tomorrow night?" he asked. "Same time," Broadway answered. "But leave the basketball at home." Steve laughed. "All right. See you tomorrow." Broadway climbed the tree they had landed next to and took off into the air. Steve watched his amazing new friend glide away. He walked to his house, smiling. The lights were out, which meant that his mother had gone to sleep early. Steve tried the door and found it locked. He fumbled through his pocket for the key. He retrieved it and was just about to unlock the door when he heard someone behind him. No, _several_ someones. And...a faint hum? It sounded almost...electrical. He started to turn when something heavy struck him in the side. There was a dizzying pain, and he could hear the crackling of electricity and smell the searing of his own flesh. Unconsciousness came before he could even scream. The man sat in his office, enjoying a moment of serenity from his hectic day. An egg salad sandwich sat on a plate in front of him. He carefully spread his napkin across his lap and began to eat. The phone rang, shattering his silence. With a frown he picked up the receiver. "Yes?" The same muffled voice came over the line. A cruel smile spread across the man’s lips. "Good. Very good, Carlson. Is he awake? Fine, find out where the beasts are hiding. Use whatever means necessary." The man hung up the phone. His mind filled with the methods that Carlson might use to get the boy to talk. Carlson was, after all, very good at what he did. The man picked up his sandwich and hungrily took a bite. Steve awoke to the feeling of fire. His side burned, just below his ribs. He tried to get up, but his hands and feet wouldn’t move. He began to struggle, only to be stopped by the burning pain coming from where he had been struck. As he slowly opened his crusted-over eyes, he became aware of his surroundings. He was in a dark room, shackled to the wall. A sliver of light seeped in from under the door, and Steve could just make out a small table with several small objects on it. He tried to see what they were, but his eyes stubbornly refused to focus. He swallowed hard, and winced at the sensations he felt in his dry throat. The door opened, flooding the small room with light. Steve blinked, trying to focus his eyes enough to see who it was. The figure was large, dressed in dark clothes. Steve could make out other figures behind the one who had walked into the room, looking in from the hallway. The dark figure closed the door and turned on a light. As Steve’s eyes began to clear, he could make out a look of disgust on the figure’s face...no...the _man’s_ face. It was a man, Steve could tell that now. A man wearing a midnight blue costume with an gold Q shaped emblem on the breast. The man opened his mouth to speak. Carlson closed his cellular phone. He began to walk to the closet where they were holding the boy. He grinned in anticipation. He couldn’t wait to teach this boy a lesson that he’d never forget. When Carlson reached the closet, he told the two Quarrymen guarding it what he had been ordered to do. They nodded beneath their hoods. Carlson looked at his own hood, and wondered if he should put it back on. *No* he decided. He wanted the brat to see who it was punishing him for his sins. Carlson opened the door and looked in. The boy had finally regained consciousness, and was weakly looking around. A portion of his shirt had been cut away, revealing a large burn where the hammer had struck him. Carlson walked in and closed the door. "Where have we gone wrong?" Carlson walked over to where Steve was shackled. "We do our best to protect humanity from all gargoyle scum, but people like _you_ still sympathize with them." He spat the words like poison. Steve tried to talk, but his throat was too dry. He looked feebly at Carlson, who wore a face like death. Carlson paced back and forth, trying to control his anger. If he lost control the boy would have an edge over him. No, he _must_ stay in complete control. Carlson decided to give up the rest of his speech and get right to the point. "Where are they? Those gargoyle friends of yours, where are they hiding? Tell me now, and we’ll let you go." Carlson looked into Steve’s eyes. Steve again tried to speak, but his throat would not let the words come. Carlson leaned against the wall and asked his question again. Steve swallowed. He tried again, and this time was able to croak out the words. "I...don’t...know." Carlson’s eyes filled with rage. "Liar! You little bastard, you’ll tell us where they are. You will if you don’t want to feel pain." Steve looked up at Carlson’s words. Carlson could see that he had the boy’s attention. He moved in close. "That’s right, pain. You think you know pain, little one? I promise you, you don’t. Not yet, anyway." Carlson walked over to the table and picked up a pair of pliers. "You see, my boy, I’ve studied torture all my life. It doesn’t need to be grand, or elaborate. Why, with these..." he brandished the pliers like a trophy, "...with these I could find so many ways to bring you pain." Carlson slowly walked over to Steve and showed him the pliers close up. "What could I do, you ask? I can see from your eyes that you’re dying to know." Steve looked at him with fear. Carlson moved the pliers down to Steve’s feet. "I could rip out your toenails, one by one, until your toes are nothing but bloody stumps. Would you like that? Have you ever thought about what it would feel like to walk without toenails? I’m sure we could show you." Carlson moved the pliers up to Steve’s mouth. "Or I could pull your teeth out. How about that? And after I’m through with that, we could move on to your tongue." Carlson saw Steve’s jaw clench in reaction to his words. "Good," he said. "I can see that we understand each other. So many things to do with this one tool, and I have so many others on my table over there. Now...where are they?" Horrified, Steve felt tears beginning to stream down his face. "...don’t...know..." "I know, I know. They never told you, right? Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll just leave you alone for a while. You have a good look at the things on my little table, and let your imagination run wild. I’ll be back in a little while. Then we’ll either talk...or I’ll just have to find some other way to occupy my attention." Carlson was close enough now for Steve to smell his breath. He looked into the Quarryman’s eyes and saw burning hatered. Steve could see, just from his eyes, how much Carlson wanted to hurt him. Carlson walked out of the room, leaving the light on. Steve was alone with his thoughts. *Why is this happening to me?* his mind pleaded. Steve looked at the table, and fear overtook him. Chained to the wall, his throat dry, his side on fire, Steve began to cry. Detective Elisa Maza ran out of the elevator, nearly knocking a very surprised Owen Burnett aside. If anyone had been there to see it, they would have been amazed by the look of surprise on Owen’s face. His eyebrows raised and his mouth nearly opened. The tall man quickly followed Elisa down the hall. Elisa burst into the main hall of Castle Wyvern, panting and gasping for air. Goliath stood up at once and went over to her. "Elisa, what is the matter?" he asked. "Broadway," she panted. "Where’s Broadway?" "He’s daun in tha kitchen, make’n a quick snack before sunrise," said Hudson. "Why? What’s wrong, lass?" Elisa looked up into Goliath’s face. "It’s his new friend, Goliath. He’s been kidnapped." Hudson jumped out of his chair. "Kidnapped?! When? By who?!" "Hold on a minute," said Goliath. "Let’s go get Broadway and she can tell us all." Ten minutes later, the entire clan (minus Brooklyn and Lexington, who were on patrol) were assembled in the great hall. Xanatos, Fox and Owen were present as well. Alexander was fast falling asleep in his mother’s arms. Elisa had by now caught her breath, and all were anxious to hear what she had to say. "We got a call from Steve Johnson’s mother a few hours ago. She said he never came home. Usually we wait 24 hours, but I remembered the name and checked it out. I talked to the neighbors and one of them said she had happened to glance out the window just in time to see three men carry him to the car and dump him in. She said he was twitching, so she doesn’t think he was dead." Broadway was already near hysterics. "Why didn’t she call the police right away?!" he cried. Elisa sighed. "She said that she didn’t feel it was any of her business. That’s New York for you." Broadway jumped to his feet. "Well, we’ve got to find him! Do you know who took him?" "I’m afraid I do. But you’d better sit down. The men that took Steve..." Elisa trailed off, trying to find a way to say what had to come next. "What? What?" Elisa waited until Broadway had been seated by Goliath before she continued. "Broadway, the men that took Steve...they were wearing Quarrymen uniforms." Five pairs of eyes glowed with fury. Even Bronx seemed enraged. Three other pairs flashed with anger, and the final set remained impassive as ever. The final set belonged to, of course, Owen. But his brows dipped and the corners of his mouth twitched. Inside of him, even Puck was bouncing off the walls in frustration. Broadway threw his head back and roared. It was a howl so terrible even Elisa shrank back. His cries were locked in his throat as the sun appeared on the horizon. Elisa looked at the frozen form of her friend. Even in stone, a tear that had formed rolled down his face. "We’ve got to do something." "What of the boy’s mother?" asked Owen. "If it is the Quarrymen who are involved, she may be in danger as well." "We’ve already put her in a safehouse, just in case. Listen, I’m going to keep looking. I can’t do anything officially until 24 hours have past, because all we have is one report saying that it _might_ be a kidnapping. But I’ll snoop around on my own, maybe I’ll get lucky." She walked over to Owen. "Do you think Puck could..." "As I have told Mr. Xanatos on numerous occasions," he interrupted, "I can only use my powers in the protection or education of the boy. I doubt very much that his mother would be willing to put him into harm’s way." "Owen’s right, of course," Xanatos said. "I’ll see what I can find on my end," Elisa nodded at him and both went in their separate ways. Steve ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, trying to get rid of the dryness. He never remembered being so thirsty in all his life. The door opened and Carlson walked into the room, carrying a tall glass of water. He looked at Steve and smiled meanly. "How are we doing?" Steve’s throat was far too dry to say anything. "Oh, a little thirsty, are we? I thought you might be, so I brought you this nice glass of water." Carlson sipped from the glass. "Ahh. It really is refreshing. Would you like a drink? I can tell you would. You can have all the water you want, you know." Carlson moved closer. "All you have to do is...tell me where they’re hiding." Steve looked Carlson in the eye. His eyes narrowed to slits as he shook his head. Carlson’s eyes grew cold. With a growl he threw the water into Steve’s face. Steve stuck his tongue out, trying to collect as much of the water as he could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to allow him to speak. "Why...are you doing this?" he managed. "Why? WHY?? HOW DARE YOU ASK ME THAT!" Carlson stopped and collected himself. "Let me ask you a question. Why are you protecting those...those things?" "They’re not...things. They’re people, like...like you and...and me." "They are nothing like us! Nothing! They’re things!" Spittle flew from Carlson’s mouth with the fervor of his words. "They must be exterminated! All of them!" Steve sighed and let his eyes fall to the floor. Carlson went over to the small table. "I trust you’ve been looking at the tools on this table, imagining what I could do to you?" He picked up a wooden paddle and walked over to Steve. He ran the paddle over the burn on Steve’s side, breaking the blisters that had formed. Steve winced at the sensation. "Oh, that still hurts, hmmm? It’s a pretty bad burn. It could get infected if it can’t heal properly. Have you ever had an infection, boy? A real infection? It’s not pretty. The skin discolors, and often it can get a little messy." Carlson looked Steve in the eyes. "Now...where are they?" Steve returned Carlson’s look. "Fuck you." Pain exploded inside of Steve as Carlson hit his side with the paddle. He howled in agony. "WHERE ARE THEY??" "FUCK YOU!!!" Carlson his Steve’s burn again, and again, and again. By this time it was bleeding freshly, and Steve was sobbing in his agony. Carlson went to his table and picked up a bottle of iodine. He walked back over to Steve. "This is a nasty wound," he hissed. "We wouldn’t want you to get that infection, would we?" Carlson poured the bottle’s contents over the paddle. "Last chance. Where are they?" Steve said nothing. Carlson reached back and hit Steve with all his might. Steve’s eyes flew open as the new burning pain set in as tears streamed down his face. His screams could be heard all the way to the far end of the hall. As the final rays of the sun left the sky, the seven gargoyles burst to life. Shards of stone skin scattered throughout the main hall. "We’ve got to find him!" Broadway yelled. "We will," said Elisa as she and Xanatos walked into the room. "But it won’t be easy." "What have you found, Elisa?" asked Goliath. "I haven’t been able to find a thing. I’ve talked to all of my contacts, but no one know where the Quarrymen are hiding." "I’ve done a bit of hunting myself," said Xanatos. "But my luck has been the same. Wherever the Quarrymen are hiding, they’re doing a good job of staying hidden." "We should patrol the city, and see if we can find anything," Broadway insisted. The others agreed. "What’s going on?" asked Lexington as he and Brooklyn walked into the room. "We weren’t able to make it back before dawn, so we had to roost on an old cathedral." Goliath quickly filled the two newcomers in. Broadway began to pace back and forth as Goliath finished the story. "We’re wasting time!" he yelled. "Who knows what they’re doing to him?!" "All right, we shall go," said Goliath. "But I want the three of you to go together. If the Quarrymen are involved, then none of us are safe." Xanatos stepped forward. "I’d like to help, if I can. I’ll have my entire security force sweep the city." He walked over and put his hand on the heavyset gargoyle’s shoulder. "Don’t worry, Broadway. We’ll find him." Broadway nodded and leapt into the air. Lexington and Brooklyn followed. Goliath looked at Hudson. "You stay here and guard the castle. Elisa, any help you can give would be appreciated." "I’ll do what I can, big guy. It’s been almost 24 hours now, so we can get the rest of the force involved. Most of them don’t like the Quarrymen that much anyway." Goliath nodded at her, then he and Angela glided off to begin their search. As soon as they were out of earshot, Angela caught up to Goliath. "Father, I’m so worried about Broadway. Do you think he’ll be all right?" "Broadway can take care of himself. Right now he’s doing what he should be, searching. He’ll be fine so long as he has something to do." "I’m so worried about him. About both of them." "As am I." Steve hung from his shackles, alone for a while. Carlson had stormed off to take a breather. Steve’s side had stopped bleeding, at least for the moment. His wrists were bruised from the restraints, and his hands felt cold and numb from the lack of blood reaching them. He was covered with a cold sweat, and his lips were cracked from the dryness in his mouth. He knew that they would be bleeding very soon. He always had chapped lips when he didn’t stay hydrated. There was a steady pain in the small of his back from hanging for so long. Steve looked at his arms, which now bore several cuts, all scabbing over. After Carlson had grown tired of using the paddle, he had moved on to a razor. Steve had thought about just lying to him, giving him some random location to go search for. But deep down he knew that when the Quarrymen didn’t find the gargoyles they would just come back, and their moods would not be improved. Steve sighed. *Is friendship worth all this?* he thought to himself. *I wish I’d never met Broadway. No, no that’s not true. He’s the first person who’s ever really accepted me, not wondering what effect I might have on his popularity or his reputation.* Steve swallowed. *Besides, he’s coming for me. By now, he must know that I’m missing, and he’ll be looking for me. They all will.* But deep down, Steve wasn’t sure. All he could do was hope that their friendship meant as much to Broadway as it did to him. The trio glided over the city, with Broadway in the lead. Lexington caught up to Brooklyn as they soared through the sky. "I’m worried about him. He’s completely blaming himself for this." Brooklyn looked ahead at his rookery brother. "Yeah, I know. We’ve got to do something. Hey Broadway, wait up!" Broadway barely noticed them catch up to him. He had been scouring the streets, trying to find some clue, _something_ that could tell him where Steve was. As the other caught up with him, he quickly wiped a tear from his eye. Brooklyn gave Lexington a glance. "Broadway, this isn’t your fault. Those Quarrymen are like animals. They destroy anything different than they are." "No," said Broadway with a sigh. "I should have been more careful." "But there’s nothing you could have done," Lexington insisted. "Like Brooklyn said, the Quarrymen follow their own rules. Don’t worry. We’ll find him." Something in an alley caught Broadway’s eye. He swooped down to investigate. "We have to," Lexington told Brooklyn as they followed. Several unsuccessful hours later they returned to the castle. Goliath and Angela had already arrived, and were preparing for sunrise. "Did you find anything?" Broadway asked. Angela sadly shook her head. Broadway walked off along the castle wall, his head down. Angela ran to catch him. She laced her arm around his and they walked off together, Angela trying to comfort him. The rest of the clan watched them go. "I’m worried about the lad," said Hudson. "He’s tak’n this whole thing very hard." "Yes," Goliath agreed with a frown. "The Quarrymen have declared war on our kind, destroying everything we hold dear." His eyes began to glow as his hands balled into fists. The veins stood out on the back of his hands as he clenched his fists harder and harder. "And they must be stopped." The sun rose, freezing them all as they stood. Several drops of deep red blood dribbled down from Goliath’s stone fist. Steve’s screams echoed throughout the empty halls of the Quarrymen’s hideout. He had been temporarily moved to a different room for the next stage of his interrogation. Ordinarily, the change of scene would have been nice, but Steve did not notice. He was in too much pain. They had hung him under a shower head, which was slowly spraying him down with water. Carlson held one end of a lamp wire. The other was plugged into a socket down the hall, where the water could not reach it. Carlson had thought of this new way to get answers only last night, and was quite proud of it. He would ask Steve a question, and if he didn’t like the answer he would rake the live wire along various parts of Steve’s water slicked body. "I DON’T KNOW!!" Steve screamed. The only good thing about his situation is that there was enough water coming down on his face to get his voice back. His blood flowed freely down his body and mixed with the shower water as it ran down the drain. In the back of his mind Steve was reminded of one of his favorite movies, Psycho. The sight didn’t seem nearly as cool now. Carlson raised the wire to shock the boy again, but after a moment’s thought he ordered it unplugged. He was tired of this. *If the boy knew anything* he thought, *He would have told me by now.* But even then a worm of doubt crept into his mind. He had seen men die before telling him information that he _knew_ they had. Physical torture simply did not work with some people. Carlson smiled. *If physical pain won’t do the trick, maybe the mental kind will get me what I want.* "Very well, Steve." Carlson said. "It is Steve, isn’t it? We just found out your name last night, from a...new source." Of course Carlson knew the boy’s name long before the two ever met, but there was no reason to tell _him_ that. "I suppose you were telling the truth. You must not know where they are hiding. That or you have a very strong will. Either way, I see no reason to keep you here. You may go." Two Quarrymen helped Steve to the floor. He gave Carlson a wary look, then began to limp his way to the door. "We’ll find out what we need from our other source," Carlson called after him. "Perhaps you told her." Steve stopped dead in his tracks. Slowly he turned to face Carlson. "What other source?" he asked through bleeding lips. Carlson smiled. "Why, your mother, of course," he said, as if he hadn’t even expected Steve to ask. "We picked her up last night at your home. But I’m sure you don’t want to concern yourself with that. There’s a clean set of clothes in the closet across the hall. My men will show you to the exit." Carlson pulled out his cellular phone and began to dial. He had not even turned it on, but Steve had no idea of this. Carlson turned back to the boy. "Goodbye." Steve just stood there, shocked. Carlson began to speak into the phone. "Sir? Yes, we weren’t able to get what we needed from the boy. We’re going to try his mother. She should be much more talkative. Yes sir." He closed the phone and began to walk out of the room. "Wait!" Steve yelled. Carlson smiled, then put on his best poker face and turned to the boy. "Yes?" "Mom doesn’t know anything. She doesn’t even know that Broadway and I are friends." "I suppose that’s possible. But, I can’t take that chance. I need information about where the gargoyles are hiding. I’ll simply have to get it from your mother. Unless _you’d_ like to supply me with it?" Steve shook his head. "I’ve told you. I don’t know. I don’t know where they are." Carlson smiled at him. "It’s all right. You’re free. Go. Run, and never look back." He turned to leave again. "Wait!" Steve said again. Carlson snapped around to face him. "Look, I really am in a rush, and I don’t have time for this. So either tell me what I want, or get the hell out!" Steve sunk to his knees, broken. "I don’t know where they live, but I...I’ll tell you everything he told me." An evil grin spread across Carlson’s face. "Good." A few hours later lunch was being served in the dining hall. Several Quarrymen sat eating with their hoods off. The subject of the hour was what was to be done with Steve when they were through with him. "I think we should kill him," said a lanky redhead. "It’ll save us the trouble of dealing with him later." The others mumbled in agreement. "But how do we do it?" asked a heavyset member with a grin. "Oh, we should have fun with it. He want’s to be friends with gargoyles. Let’s teach him how to fly!" The redhead demonstrated his point by dropping a half-eaten pudding cup to the floor, whistling as it fell. It’s contents splattered out on the tile. A well-built Australian walked over and set his tray down. "Naa. Tha’d be too easy on him. I say we make ‘im bleed." The redhead looked at the newcomer. "Such a choir boy, aren’t you Jonsey? We don’t want to go too far. Quick and simple, that’s what I say." "’Ey boss! How we gonna do ‘im?" The Quarrymen turned to see Carlson walking into the room. He looked at his men. "We aren’t." Looks of confusion appeared on the faces of the men. "The boy didn’t have anything useful." Carlson held up his cellular phone and grinned. "But you’re all going to like this. We’ve got new orders." In the office of the head of Elisa’s precinct, Captain Maria Chavez leaned back in her chair. It had been a very long day, and the end was still not in sight. She opened her desk drawer and took out a small bottle. "Thank God for Tylenol," she murmured and she took a few pills out and swallowed them down with her coffee. Chavez grimaced, her coffee had gone cold hours ago. The phone on her desk rang with a screech. Chavez sighed. She had been meaning to have someone fix the damned thing, but she’d been so busy lately she just hadn’t had the time. She picked up the receiver. "Chavez." Her eyes grew wide as she listened. "What?" "Yes ma’am. Please hurry. I don’t know what they’ll do to him." Carlson closed his cellular phone and looked at the grinning faces of his men. His number two walked into the room. Carlson turned to face him. "Is everything ready?" "Yes, sir." "Good. People, we have thirty minutes until sundown. Charge the hammers and get into position. Move!" The Quarrymen jumped up from their tables and scurried out of the room, yelling and hooting. Carlson smiled. He loved his job. He dialed his phone and waited for an answer. "Yes?" came the muffled voice. "We’re ready." Xanatos sat at his computer console, typing furiously. He had been searching all day for some clue as to where the Quarrymen were hiding with no success. He rubbed his eyes. He had been sitting in front of the screen for hours and had a headache not to be believed. He closed his eyes and concentrated on making his temples stop throbbing. After a few moments he gave up with a sigh. It had been that kind of day. Xanatos glanced at his watch. *Seven minutes to sunset* he thought. He detested coming up empty-handed. Just then Elisa rushed into the room, escorted by Owen. He smiled when he saw her. "Hello, Detective. I hope you’ve been having better luck today than I have." "As a matter of fact, I have. There was an anonymous call to the precinct today. According to the tip, the Quarrymen are hiding in a warehouse just outside of the city. Whoever it was wouldn’t identify himself, but he said Steve is there." "Were you able to trace the call?" "No, it came from a cellular phone. But it’s the best lead we’ve had so far. Matt and I checked it out, and I think we hit paydirt. The perimeter is being guarded by three Quarrymen." "Well, then, let’s get going. Owen, please let Fox know that I’ll be late for dinner," Xanatos said with a sly grin. Tonight was one of the few nights that Fox had decided to make dinner. Xanatos loved his wife dearly, but he couldn’t stand her cooking. "But you’re more than welcome to have my portion." "Um...well...if you don’t mind, sir," the pale man quickly said, "I’d like to accompany you in the rescue of the boy." Xanatos raised his eyebrows with an amused expression on his face. "Oh really? Well, we’d love to have you." Elisa smiled at them both. She glanced at her watch. "I’d better get upstairs. The guys will want to know." "We’ll meet you there," Xanatos said as he and his stone-fisted employee walked out of the office. The stone fell away from Broadway’s glowing eyes first. As he shed his stone skin, he saw Elisa waiting for him. He jumped down to her anxiously. Before he had a chance to speak she smiled and covered his mouth. "I think I know where he is." Broadway’s eyes widened with hope. "Where?" Elisa quickly filled the others in. She was just finishing when Xanatos walked into the courtyard wearing his red exosuit. Owen followed close behind. The clan gasped at the sight of him. He had shed his usual three piece suit with glasses and was now wearing a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. A belt with several pouches was threaded around his waist. Elisa had to admit, without the suit to hide it Owen was very well built. "Is everybody ready?" Xanatos asked, his voice distorted by the speakers in the exosuit. All except Goliath looked eager to leave. "I still am unsure. Elisa, is there any way we can be sure it is safe?" Elisa shook her head. "I’m afraid there are no guarantees, Big Guy. All we can do is watch each other’s backs." "Very well," the lavender gargoyle grumbled. "But everyone be careful. Where the Quarrymen are involved I want nothing left to chance." "Then let’s go!" shouted Broadway as he took to the sky. The others followed, Goliath carrying Elisa, Hudson carrying Bronx, and Xanatos carrying Owen. Everyone except for Lexington landed in a wooded area near the warehouse. After a few circles, the young gargoyle joined them. "There’s one main door," he whispered, "And a ventilation shaft on the roof that’s too small for anyone to fit in. Funny, there are no guards on the perimeter." "Aye, but that just makes our job easier. I guess the door is where we’ll be goin’?" whispered Hudson. Goliath nodded. "But be careful. I don’t like this." They ran out into the open, half expecting alarms to go off any second. The night was silent. After a few seconds they reached the main door. "Is everyone ready?" Brooklyn hissed. The members of the group all nodded. "Broadway, do the honors." The large gargoyle sunk his talons into the door and ripped it off it’s hinges. Everyone braced themselves, but the warehouse was just as silent as the rest of the night. "Pretty quiet in there," Lexington whispered. Broadway glanced at him. "If you say ‘Too quiet’, I’m gonna kill you." As much as he hated clichés, he had to admit that the tension at the moment was so thick it could be cut with a knife. They all looked in to the warehouse, but it was as dark as pitch. All of the windows were boarded up, and the moon was hidden by clouds. "All right," Goliath said, his glowing eyes trying to cut through the darkness. "Let’s go." The team quietly moved into the dark warehouse. "I can’t see a thing," Elisa hissed. "One moment, Detective," whispered Owen as he reached for a flashlight inside one of his belt pouches. Lexington sniffed the air. There was an odor he recognized wafting through the warehouse. He had smelled it several times while he was tinkering with his computer back at the castle. "What’s that smell?" he asked. "I recognize it. It smells like...ozone!" There was a screech of metal against metal as a steel slab fell in place over the open doorway. After a moment, the warehouse lights came to life, illuminating the large room. Gargoyle eyes glowed as everyone dropped into battle stances. "No," growled Brooklyn. "It smells like a trap." All around them stood Quarrymen. Quarrymen in the rafters. Quarrymen on the floor. They were everywhere. Hammers began to crackle to life, waiting to break their bones, sear their flesh, and kill them all. TO BE CONTINUED...