Power Rangers 1. Prologue  The Sands of Time

_My Disclaimer: Mighty Morphin Power Rangers and associated trademarks are owned by Saban Entertainment and Disney and I am not claiming ownership._

**Author's Introduction**: Out of the very depths of my writing folder this story has sat patiently for many, many, many, many years. As with all serious ideas I get (and I get many!) I sat down on a computer and started writing the prologue and then shortly after the first chapter, the second, third and on I continued until I abandoned it for no particular reason. So I've blown off the dust and decided to give this story the light of day that it deserves. Kind of scary as I have no actual chapter summaries or any idea how it will end but I've done it before, so let's do it again!

**Setting**: The setting is somewhat complex, as the major events that occur are all AU and therefore make anything past the start of canon MMPR Season 2 irrelevant. The reason this story is so AU is because originally it was set up to work into one of my other series and I have since rescued it and turned it into a standalone story.

**Rating**: M for numerous themes (My writing is pretty consistent in this department so if you're familiar with my other work you'll have a pretty good idea of what to expect).

**Genre**: Adventure/Drama

**Season**: MMPR [AU] / DT [AU] / SPD referenced

**Introduction**: _11 years ago Earth fell to the clutches of the Zedd Empire. Under the guidance of a resilient teacher, the newly formed Space Patrol Delta Academy and a never ending cycle of volunteer ranger teams, the surviving human race has fended off Zedd's enslavement from within the confides of a fenced-in society; When this barrier is finally destroyed and all hope is shattered, can The Returned gather the lost and remaining to form the last rebellion capable of saving a world already lost to them?_

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**Sands of Time **

**Prologue**

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The fine grain felt like nothing more than air against the numbed, thickened skin of his palm and he watched it pour out between the slits of his fingers, the illusion of falling sand so powerfully hypnotic that his body slumped lower as though to try and catch it. But just as quickly as his free hand went to intercept the shower of crystallized dust, his bare chest pulled back from the ground below, the heat emitting from it far too much for his naked skin.

He swallowed back the need to verbalize such discomfort, his tongue remaining on the roof of his mouth as he cast his eyes up at the approaching figure.

The dirtied material seemed to drink up her petite figure, her hand shaky as it absentmindedly swept her long, tangled locks over her exposed shoulder.

He would say her name but she would forget it again soon enough.

_Kimberly_...He thought it distinctly, but the verbalized version became distorted from the uneasiness of his swollen tongue. To clear his throat now would bring on an agony he could not bear.

"I'm thirsty…"

His face lowered with scathing defeat. "I know, Kim…"

"What are you doing?" she asked him, and he looked up through narrow eyes in time to watch a whisper of a breeze brush against her skin, causing her to murmur.

He felt the scarce wind ever so lightly entice, before it ran off into the distance behind him, lost amongst the backdrop of hell. Squeezing his eyes sharply, he flinched only a little as he felt her hand run over the skin of his shoulder. He was surprised he could still feel anything, yet as much as she couldn't remember her own name or even his most days anymore, her touch was something seemingly imprinted into the very veins that still kept him alive in this place.

Kimberly was the first one from the group to fall victim to this world; this hell. They were prisoners, not bounded by iron shackles, but left to rot amongst the unforgiving terrain of the distant and satanic planet. Tommy had heard Zordon mention its name once, coincidentally enough on the last day he remembered seeing their ranger mentor. The last day he left his home to go to school and the last day he had morphed as the green ranger, ready to take on the latest threat to Earth as though it were just any other day.

_"Turacia...A place of barbarous deprivation, where the doomed are sent to exist for all eternity," _Zordon had told the six teenagers that day, as the Command Center's viewing globe illuminated with a flash of crimson light, their newest rival taking shape as the wise sage introduced him with unmistakable distress.

Lord Zedd. The Emperor of Phlegethon and the twenty-eighth of the House of Zhept; a towering alien being whose physically ghastly state made opponents crawl with fear, yet his inflated ego and unquenchable temper had led to his banishment to a faraway place thousands of years earlier. Zordon, like many other representatives of the galactic peace movement had been certain the emperor would never be free to flood the galaxy with his selfish reign of terror, yet there he had been before them, not only free from his confinement, but speaking a promise of retribution.

That was the day that had started like all others but had swiftly derailed and Tommy couldn't even recall many of the events from that day. The when, why, how - none of it seemed to matter anymore. All he remembered now was the blood, the crying, the begging and lastly closing his eyes to it all and opening them only to find he was in a totally new world.

The power rangers had lost that day. They'd lost the battle; they'd lost the war and had found themselves banished by the heinous Lord Zedd to the barren and unreachable planet, condemned to an existence of eternal oblivion. Tommy had lost count of years. Time didn't exist in this place.

Literally.

Whenever he thought of the day that brought them to this place it led him to think of all they'd lost- not their freedom, but with guarantee, the freedom of planet earth. Had he been able to sleep in this place, he swore he would be drenched with nightmares of the destruction of their home planet, of people crying and screaming and begging, just as the rangers themselves had done as Zedd had delivered the final blow securing his victory and their ultimate defeat.

He needed to cry so many times, and yet no tears ever produced as his permanent state of dehydration robbed him of the ability to even bother with complex thoughts most days, let alone relinquish himself to regret and sorrow. He'd watched his teammates handle their exile with tears, anger, fear, disbelief, faith, madness and now with nothingness. As though they'd forgotten why they were even there or where they had come from.

So as Kimberly asked Tommy what he was doing, the green ranger could merely look at his girlfriend with a blank expression, unable to even speak for a moment.

She blinked, her eyes full of questions, yet not understanding his inner turmoil. "I asked what you were doing," she rephrased, carefully pronouncing her words as though he may not have understood her the first time.

He swallowed without thinking, wincing heavily as he felt a shadow creep up behind him, alleviating him from the sweltering heat that seemed to be reflecting onto his bare back.

"Tommy?"

Tommy carefully stood up, pulling Kimberly along with him as he turned to face their leader. Despite everything, Jason Scott was undoubtedly the strongest of the group, his fists still able to clench as he looked at his best friend with unvented frustration.

Very rarely had Tommy seen Jason lose his temper and he prepared himself for a blow.

"What is it?" Tommy managed to ask him.

Jason's eyes wandered sympathetically at the pink ranger, before leveling on Tommy with a deep comprehension.

"It's Billy…we've lost him," Jason admitted, his voice falsely void of all emotion.

"Lost him?"

Jason lowered his head a level. "Like Kimberly," he clarified, and the short brunette shuffled a little on the spot, glancing up at Tommy in confusion.

Tommy sighed knowing it were as bad as death. Billy had succumbed to a head injury which had robbed him of much of his memory, just as had happened to Kimberly following the ranger's defeat before their exile to Turacia. While Kimberly's pronounced brain damage had been immediate upon receiving a severe blow to the head, Billy's mental decimation had been a gradual unveiling, taking the blue ranger from scientific genius to nothing more than a mass fragmentation of broken English and forgotten conversations.

"You mean his memory is completely gone?" Tommy asked, unable to believe that they'd lost Billy for good.

Jason's lips tightened. "He doesn't remember his own name, and he couldn't recall any of ours, either."

"Who's Billy?" Kimberly piped up, looking between her two male teammates in confusion.

Tommy sighed, squeezing her shoulder gently in comfort. Sometimes, it became more than tiring having to repeat the same information to her time and time again.

Jason cleared his throat heavily, but as he spoke it seemed it did little to ease his ailing voice. "I guess you had no luck sourcing any water?"

Tommy shook his head and Jason nodded with obvious expectancy, slapping his friend on his arm in a brotherly gesture that was rare in show these days. "We should head back for Zack, Trini and Billy," he suggested, as routine as everything else about this existence was.

Searching for water that they never found; resting as though it rejuvenated them and trying to hold onto the 'old times' as though it would keep them going. As if any of it made a difference.

Tommy had accepted their defeat a long time ago and privately resented Jason at times like these when he insisted that they must continue such pointless routine.

_Lord Zedd found a way out of this place, _Jason had reminded them time and time again whenever team morale sunk to a deadening low,_ we might do the same one day and actually have a chance of fighting back- we can't give up guys, Zordon and the world, are relying on us-._

"You okay bro?" Jason cut off Tommy's reminiscing as the three trudged tiredly over the ocher colored sand which burnt at the soles of their feet.

Tommy nodded stiffly, but before he had a chance to form a reply, a familiar voice of calm broke out from the crowd of the doomed up ahead.

"Jason! Tommy!" he heard Trini cry out.

Tommy's eyes instantly darkened and he exchanged a quick look with the red ranger, before breaking into a forced sprint. His hand slipped back to catch Kimberly's and he pulled on her to follow, his eyes searching the gathering for the other half of their team.

"Guys!" Zack suddenly appeared from the right, his hand stretched out and gesturing wildly for their attention. "You will not believe what we just saw!"

"What is it?" Jason asked fervently, as they followed him through the dense mob and out the other side.

Trini was waiting for them beside Billy, her arm lifting up to the canopy of sky above them. Tommy pulled up beside her, the six friends gazing up into the unknown.

"What are we looking for exactly?" Tommy wondered.

"It looked like some sort of explosions," Trini described, her eyes not leaving the heavens. "It's been constant for some time."

Tommy's eyes picked up, as Jason stepped forward eagerly. "Did you manage to see the actual aircraft?"

Trini's eyes lowered, trailing from her pointed finger tip, down her arm before settling on the red ranger. "They didn't look like aircraft, Jason-."

"They were more like zords," Zack cut her off zealously, his comment drawling their eyes to him like a target.

"Zords?" Jason repeated.

Trini nodded, but allowed the black ranger to explain. "One of them was cold and scaly looking…"

_Serpentera,_ Tommy thought to himself.

"The other looked mighty similar to the megazord," Zack continued.

Jason's hand clenched. "I knew it!" he exclaimed, not so much in volume, but with huge force beneath his breath. "I told you someone would come for us."

But Tommy remained conscious of the knot in his throat, his weariness unresolved by the display of their leader. Kimberly's oblivious gaze lingered out to the horizon and he bent his knees slightly, bringing his face closer to her own.

"I can see sand," she whispered fixated.

He felt compelled to indulge her fascination for yet another lost moment of time, before a shatter of sound pained the insides of his temple. Like a reflex, his eyes darted upward, before they slammed shut, burning like a million razor cuts.

Screams to duck and fall to the ground were suffocated beneath the thunder of seeming gravity ripping large chunks of debris toward the ground. The heat from the bare earth below them suddenly felt so welcoming as Tommy lost his balance and found himself on his side, scrambling to pull Kimberly within the deep contour of his body. Her limbs folded without protest and he brushed his lips against her ear, tears springing from the outer edge of his eyes as he waited for the end.

"It's going to be okay…"

Tommy propped himself up only slightly, waiting for the expectant bodies of them all to be crushed by the molten hot shrapnel from the decimated megazord. The sound was almost that of screaming bullets rebounding off an electric fence, and it was at that moment that he saw it.

A force-field. A seemingly invisible wall of energy hovering above them, rippling ever so discreetly as broken metal rebounded endlessly off its armored blanket.

As those around him began to notice what was unraveling in the sky, they rose to their feet, mouths ajar and eyes wide open in disbelief; in memorization. For the briefest of moments, Tommy felt compelled by the irony. That their lives had been spared. That even in this hell, death was not an option available to them.

"WHAT'S GOING ON?" Trini's scream was stretched out in effort, her eyes barely open as they retreated from the flashes of light.

"TURACIA MUST BE ENCIRCLED BY SOME SORT OF ENERGY FIELD!" Jason's voice was above a yell, as his eyes dug into the sand below for relief. "THE MEGAZORD HAS BEEN DESTROYED AND THE FORCE-FIELD IS STOPPING THE WRECKAGE FROM-."

Everything exploded all at once.

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**Coming up next…here's a brief look at Chapter 1 "The Girl with No Name":**

_Ethan James' face remained even, but the usual glint of superiority lingered in his eyes. "Actually, I do."_

"_Great, so why don't you venture back to your little cave-."_

"_I saw you hit her," Ethan stated in a low tone. _


	2. The Girl with No Name

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**Chapter 1 **

**The Girl with No Name**

_A/N – This story is working a little different in that each chapter is a single scene – so you'll find the chapters a little shorter then you're used to from me. I know this style of chapter structure is not to everyone's liking (to be honest, one or two of my favorite novelists use this structure and I don't always like it very much); however, it's something I wanted to personally attempt. I think it will work for this story, as it's quite a complex plot and requires a lot more concentration on the different elements rather than too much chopping and changing. It will also mean more frequent updates which is always a good thing!_

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**_Thursday March 16th 2006_**

**_Present Day_**

**_Guarded Grove High School_**

It was one of those days.

Kira Ford glanced into the foggy side mirror, thickened moisture saturating and distorting her reflection as she sighed. Okay, so she had been having lots of _those_ days in just one week. She figured she was most likely being punished for something she'd done wrong, but looking back on it she honestly couldn't think of how she ticked off karma that bad that she deserved to be stuck with Him.

She'd been sitting in the car waiting for him for how long now? The irritation was enough to fuse her eyes shut, as she kicked at the backpack at her feet and finally heard his shaggy haired head poke through the driver's side window. Void of any hint of genuine consideration for her, he merely snorted and muttered to her that he just needed to make a call.

Kira sighed again, daggers forcing her eyes open. She was pissed off now.

"Conner, my place is five minutes away…surely you can wait until then to call your little jock friends?" she pointed out, not bothering to sweeten the tartness in her tone.

Conner McKnight. Self confessed comedian and the cause for Kira's loathsome week. In between spending his days chasing around soccer balls and blond seniors with sizeable chests, Conner's most notable past time was advertising his lack of intelligence to anyone who didn't want to know about it. Four mindless afternoon detentions later and she still couldn't see the funny side of being showered with noodles that he'd inhaled up his nose and coughed out of his mouth. Apparently Mr. Oliver couldn't either, because he didn't exactly go easy on her after she turned around and clobbered the soccer star in the face.

Comedian her ass.

They weren't even in the same league. Not even in neighboring leagues. Kira didn't care about sport, she didn't care about her reputation, and the only reason she went to school was to get an education. That, of course, placed her in the minority amongst the thousand plus students enrolled at Guarded Grove High School. And while her father saw her schooling as a convenient daytime babysitter while he indulged his alcoholism at the local bar, Kira felt like she was pushing crap up hill just to make it through each week so she could one day clench hold of a life for herself beyond the welfare cycle.

She groaned a bit at the reflection and propped her sneakered feet on the dashboard of Conner's pride and joy. Smiling with seeming satisfaction, she waited while he finished his phone conversation and finally made his way into the driver's seat beside her.

"Whoa, babe!" he stammered, reaching with his right hand to swat her feet down. "Get your feet off my car."

She rolled her eyes. "Finished talking to your boyfriends?" she murmured wryly, not really caring about the question.

He started up the engine forcibly, his wide shoulders exaggerating every movement dramatically. "Thank God. Only one more day stuck in detention with you," he retorted, as he backed the car out of the parking spot.

The momentum jerked Kira's body forward, before it slammed her back against the seat. This boy certainly had no idea how to drive.

"Jesus," she practically growled under her breath as the car suddenly stalled.

She settled a twisted glare on him, not moving her look of disgust as he hastily bashed around the gear stick and started the car up once more. He slammed his foot down and it barreled forward, the loud roaring of the engine almost drowned away by Conner's gratified laughter at her expense.

"For God's sake, Conner!" Kira harped up, as the car accelerated toward the exit of the deserted car park.

Conner's smug cackling obliterated to nothing as the sudden screaming of the radio blocked up her ears. He tapped the steering wheel and let out an inaudible holler in sync with the heavy metal tune before his voice mellowed out into some whiny string of sounds that mimicked the song's guitar riff. Kira's eyes instantly rebounded off him in repulsion and bounced to the view outside her window for just a moment. A second. Ashen sky scraped her peripheral vision.

Even if she could somehow pry back a memory from when she was a little girl, Kira still wouldn't be able to remember how the sun shined before the world apparently ceased to exist as it did eleven years ago.

Then she remembered the speed bump near the exit.

"Conner, there's a-."

Her hands barely braced the sudden thrust of her body, as the aging seatbelt gave way as the sound of rubber dragged from beneath, flinging them to a dead stop. Kira scrambled back in her seat, her overflexed fingers shooting darts of pain to her brain and rubbing at her nose as she inhaled the foulness of burning tires.

The anger came next at a frightening speed. "What the hell did you do that for!" she flung around to look at him, her hands launching out to shove his lanky body.

Conner's own fingers' were wrapped around the steering wheel. His vacant gaze remained concentrated through the windscreen, as though the breeze had suddenly changed direction and paralyzed him in his place.

"Oh my God," he faintly let out. He swallowed. "Holy crap…"

She slumped back in her seat. "What? What's wrong?" she asked with a creeping amount of raw concern, her lower lip falling to a slight tremor.

He didn't seem to register her question and Kira's eyes followed the path of his own, until they collided with an unexpected, horrific scene at the base of the car's bonnet. She inhaled sharply, her body jumping in fright as she watched a girl awkwardly stand up in front of the vehicle, her body swaying unnaturally.

And she was bleeding. A graze on her head; a scrape across her shoulder.

"What did you do?" Kira managed to gasp to Conner, before she shakingly shoved her door open, her legs weakening beneath her clenched stance.

The girl's face hung like a snapped twig, the crest of her head rocking steadily. She abruptedly took her hands off the car and took a side step, her fingers creating a mess as they drew blood from her cut down the side of her face. The makeshift dress that overwhelmed her slight frame gaped and split up the side as she continued to take little, broken steps to nowhere in particular.

Kira's arm shook as her hand held onto her open door for dear life. "U-Um…are you okay?" she asked the girl, stopping a good foot away from her as though afraid to step any closer.

"Man, is that a bed sheet she has wrapped around her or is that some seriously ugly looking dress?" Conner wondered incredulously as he moved around the back of the car and stopped beside Kira.

Kira glared at him, but the moment was cut short as the girl suddenly let out a sound. "My gosh, it's my school…" she whispered.

"You go to school?" Kira asked her, a little surprised. "I've never seen you here before."

"Yeah, and you're like miss popular, aren't you?" Conner counted sarcastically.

The girl remained detached from their exchange, drifting past them in lumbering movements as she approached the signed entrance of the multi-storied school. A tree that stood nearby groaned without a canopy of leaves, as it's deadened limbs cried mercy to the wind.

"Hey, where are you going? School was over like an hour ago…" Conner called out to her.

Kira approached the girl. "Look, you're bleeding; we should take you to the hospital-."

"The Youth Center…" The girl's voice trailed off, drawing Kira to a blank.

Kira released a soundless groan and spun around, practically spitting out at Conner. "Good going idiot, you hit her so hard that she's got amnesia or something!"

The girl turned around, the length of her torso curving with curiosity as her dark eyes seemed to search the pavement below. Her face travelled toward the ground, before she just as swiftly jerked it back up, causing Kira to flinch. "Have you seen Tommy? We always walk home together as a group," she murmured monotonously, before she began almost eerily away from the school in slurred, staggered steps.

Kira's heart and lungs had ceased all cooperation as she found her pulse racing erratically against her lack of breathing. She was starting to freak out now. "Hey!" she called out after the girl.

"HEY!" Conner's voice boomed out, as he raised his hands to his mouth to project his call.

The girl finally stopped and turned around, but her eyes didn't meet Kira's or Conner's, and instead seemed to slither across the oversized sign at the front of the school.

"Guarded Grove High School…" was all she barely whispered, before her eyebrows dived severely and she leveled her gaze. "I d-don't understand…where am I…w-hat…where am I?" she finally asked, her voice connecting the words but struggling to find an even pitch.

Conner raised an eyebrow. "Uh, you're in Guarded Grove…not exactly a ton of options in that department."

The girl's palm pushed into the side of her temple. "What country is this?"

Conner shuffled his feet, as his expression lacked all comprehension. "This is America…" he blinked, before clearly deciding to humor the strange teenager. "This is Guarded Grove…the place to be…" he almost chucked and Kira frowned as the girl scratched at her injured shoulder carelessly.

She squirmed and Conner let out a rushed laugh of disbelief. "This is a joke, right? Who put you up to this? Some dumb nerdy fuck who wants to test my history knowledge or some shit?"

"Stop it Conner-."

"Well this shit is-."

"Opened in 1999…"

Goosebumps consumed the girl's bare limbs as she stared at them desperately. "W-hat," she barely sounded, "What year is it?"

Conner shook his head, his nose twisting in his frustration.

"2006," Kira quickly piped up, her arms hooking across her chest as she shared a quick look with Conner. "The year is 2006-."

The girl let out something that sounded like a whimper, before she dropped to her knees, crawling despairingly along a short stretch of the path before finally collapsing into a shuddering heap. As Kira stared at her in strangling confusion, the permanent clouds above seemed to manifest their heinous intention as though to cement the fact that her day had suddenly gotten so much worse.

**-To Be Continued-**

_**Coming up in Chapter Two: Sign on the dotted line**_

_John nodded. "I agree. It's highly probable that the impact from Serpentera's attacks damaged already weakened moons and planets," he theorized. He sighed without substance. "At any rate, this alien incursion is the least of our concerns at this present time. With the team gone we have no strategy in place to contend with what will be an inevitable attack against The Inside."_

_A/N #2- Hoping to update in the next week, thanks for reading :) As with every other story I have ever written, I like to gradually unravel the back story so don't be too concerned if you feel like you don't understand everything yet or if you think things seem weird! Haha. Till next time :)  
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	3. Sign on the Dotted Line

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Two -**

**Sign on the Dotted Line**

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****_Unmarked residence, Eastern Guarded Grove_**

His eyes had not abandoned the screen. Despite the way they lamented for moisture, for rest and for closure, he ignored their desperate surrender and instead felt them stretch wide open, drinking it all in as he felt heavy bursts of air rush in and out of his nostrils.

Dulled light flirted from between the makeshift drapes that camouflaged mediocre assets such as windows and vents in the walls. His seat didn't merely whine beneath his distress, but absorbed all punishment, along with the scratched spectacles he finally tugged from his nose and scattered to the desk's surface as though to signify the ending. A gathered fist missed the table's edge altogether and seemed to fall as though no longer belonging to the arm to which it were attached.

His eyes were watering. There was no time for tears. Not even when faced with a defeat so much worse than all that had tallied up since the grand eclipse that had befallen Earth eleven years earlier.

He studied the martyr encased within a photo frame and prayed to God. Countless heroes had fallen over the years and not even their pictures remained as a tribute to the sacrifice they made to salvage the unsalvageable. Their planet was no longer a home, but they strived for it. While the smell of sickened rot seemed fused to a perpetually opaque breeze, bad weather was now merely a lifestyle and the sun was a silhouette lost to the dust that had yet to settle after countless contests. Trees were the endangered specie. Humans were nearing extinction.

The Zedd Empire had won what John Oliver feared was the final battle. The last victory in merely one war within many, but the only contest that would count in the end. Even if the government of Guarded Grove decided they'd grown tired of the civil unrest between its authority and the rebellion in their way, John would rather see himself arrested or put to death as an example, then sadistically eradicated by the hands of Lord Zedd himself.

He cursed at the thought and shook his head, knowing that was indeed a lie; knowing he was possibly just a little crazy. In this darkest of moments, it wasn't impossible to see all his potential as a revenge driven icon to an insurgence that longed to serve the true power of mankind. To serve in the name of the very basics of human dignity, honor and spirit. To serve in the very name that led him to this same dark place all those years ago.

John continued to study the photograph of his fallen son. Even through the hell, he could remember everything he wasn't able to take for granted anymore. Playing ball. Watching karate tournaments. Praying he would grow up to be everything he ever dreamed of for himself. Never once considering what he now remained to this very day.

_It's going to be okay, _he had told his wife Deborah when news had surfaced that their adopted son wasn't just one of the first wave dead, but was a Power Ranger, _Tommy did this for a reason. We have to keep going._

And he did. Even after Deborah died during an air raid at a high security evacuation center in Northern California just four months after the Power Rangers were last seen. He pushed on, even after entire continents of people were turned into the ash that still blanketed the streets he walked. He continued forward, even after the population of the human race fell below a hundred thousand and he didn't give up, even when his own government denied them the very same thing that Zedd has tried to take from them; their freedom.

He sure as hell couldn't give up now. Even if it did finally fucking kill him.

The digital clock nearby flashed incessantly in the corner of his ailing vision, acting as the ever constant reminder of the life he had outside of this place. He knew he would never make the drive back to his suburban home that night and quickly resigned himself to another sleepless evening, unable to consider normality in the face of what could possibly be the last dying days of life as they all knew it.

His fingers pressed at the bridge of his nose. The wrinkles that spread like fingers from its length felt like moldy orange peel beneath his fingers and he could smell that he needed a shower. Reinforced latex and spandex were not exactly the most forgiving of materials. But what was worse? The smell of polluted death from outside or the stench of his own wasted sweat?

John's disfigured index finger pressed the power to the monitor off and he watched bitterly as the tracking screen faded to oblivion, stealing away the final coordinates of the government's self-developed ranger team before it had been annihilated by the kill shot from Zedd's Serpentera war zord. His sourness didn't need to rely on his imagination. This entire confrontation would be like all the other bodies swept under the political rug and John wondered just how long it would take this time for President Mayne to offer the alien king another bloodied bargain.

Even if John considered the possibility of unveiling the Rainbow Rebellion's trump card, he knew deep inside that they simply did not have the time.

Time had run out.

A sudden rattle against the unmarked apartment door caused John to stand cautiously from his chair, his hand sliding to collect the gun resting at his feet. He cleared his throat. His eyes became deadened as he honed in on whatever senses he had retained beyond his chronic injuries. One step. The other foot. One foot in front of the other, before the weapon whipped through the air to attention as the rattle sounded again-.

"Doc, it's us, open the door."

John signed, dropping the firearm to the edge of the desk, before he moved for the door, pulling at locks and chains and hearing them click and clank before freeing enough for it to open up.

He wrinkled his nose at the smell.

"Eugene; Farkas," he acknowledged. "This is not a good time."

"We need to talk," Farkas Bulkmeier ignored his request, gesturing with a widening of the eyes until the older man stepped to the side and allowed his visitors inside.

"We failed." John's statement hung in the air as he closed the door behind them, holding his back to them as it seemed to echo over and over again in his pounding skull.

He turned around slowly to face them. "The SPD were decimated by Serpentera just twenty minutes ago," he explained. "All communications were lost; the Megazord assumedly annihilated."

John was expecting a deathly response, but instead the two police officers – part time Rainbow Rebellion members – nodded their heads in unison.

"That's what we came here to talk about," Eugene Skullovitch revealed. "We know about the failed mission."

John privately held onto his breath, motioning for the pair to take a seat. The couch had seen better days. "Has Lord Zedd made a statement declaring so?" he asked, his bitter curiosity raising his thickened eyebrows.

Farkas rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. "No statement as yet from Zedd, but President Mayne has just declared a statewide curfew from five-pm this afternoon in response to a number of security breaches reported to the west and on the southern border near Guarded Grove."

"Security breaches?"

"Henny Penny, Doc. Aliens…a shit load of them, falling from the sky like it's raining," Farkas clarified animatedly. "The bulk of them seem to have materialized on the other side of the wall, but no one is taking any chances on them getting through SPD's checkpoint or eluding the border patrols in any other manner."

John sat down on his chair absentmindedly, stroking his smooth chin thoughtfully. "An influx of aliens…" he repeated to himself. "Has anyone spoken with any of these alleged individuals?"

"Who knows?" Eugene shrugged. "But I'm thinking it's a pretty big coincidence that such a big explosion occurred and then a whole bunch of aliens started falling from the sky like a meteor shower."

John nodded. "I agree. It's highly probable that the impact from Serpentera's attacks damaged surrounding moons and planets," he theorized. He sighed without substance. "At any rate, this alien incursion is the least of our concerns at this present time. With the team gone we have no strategy in place to contend with what will be an inevitable attack against The Inside."

Farkas inhaled, his nostrils snorting in resistance. No one breathed innately these days. "Without a doubt, President Mayne will offer to renegotiate the current treaty in Zedd's favor and we all know what outcome that will lead to."

_Everything I have been pushing through…_

"The government would be foolish at this point to extend their hand to the Zedd Empire, when Zedd has already bitten both fists off. How long is it likely that Guarded Grove can continue to live and feed off the accidental power and technological littering from Zordon's power rangers?" John questioned hypothetically. "It's been eleven years. Zedd's not an idiot. He's been tolerating Mayne's agenda, but he's not intimidated in the slightest by him or his SPD."

"Which begs the question, just why has Zedd been tolerating Guarded Grove's existence for this long?" Farkas voiced out loud.

John exhaled and squinted his eyes as though whatever answers he could grasp required intense concentration. "He doesn't need anything from this technological cemetery. He's using us. He may not be of exemplary parenting, but he isn't handing us death, either."

Farkas appeared restless, which wasn't so unusual. "Who knows what condition the humans are in on The Outside. We know for sure that Zedd has been using Mayne as free labor to mine whatever was left of Angel Grove – maybe he has even more devious intentions to eventually enslave us all to complete his visionary kingdom. Fresh meat; we may not be in prime condition, but I can guarantee those poor sons-of-bitches over the fence are barely hanging onto life."

"Well, the more Zedd continues to build his New World, the more it's impacting on the sustainability of human life on this planet," John added. "Eventually it isn't going to matter how hard Zedd pushes us; Earth will simply become uninhabitable for all of us."

The three men pondered his flagging point in silence, before Eugene broke the silence. As always.

"I missed this," he rambled out, showing his open hands as though to keep both John and Farkas at bay. "I'm just saying."

Farkas moved his mouth as though he were chewing on hardened gum. "I think we all agree that now is the right time to reform and regroup."

John wasn't convinced. He was tired and that wasn't helping. "We have to lay low for now," he decided, avoiding their frenzied expectations otherwise. "We'll wait to see Mayne's next move and then we'll make ours. We need to know how-." He stopped mid sentence as his cell phone chimed in his pocket and his whole body shook.

Arthritis was a bitch. He glanced at the number on the tiny screen and sighed. Once again, he was reminded of his life outside of this place. A life without his mask.

"I will call you both later tonight," John decided, standing from his chair to gather his belongings.

"Doc, we can't just give up," Farkas stood up, watching the older man from behind.

John sighed, holding his back to his closest ally. "I'm not giving up. It's time to start gathering what we need to make ourselves noticed, and so I need to go back to my office," he murmured, before he turned to face them. "See what you can both find out about these newly arrived aliens, perhaps there's a possibility that they may cause a great enough distraction to Zedd for the short term."

He glanced at the clock one last time, before heading for the door.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Three: Blackmail**

Ethan James' face remained even, but the usual glint of superiority remained in his eyes. "Actually, I do."

"Great, so why don't you venture back to your little cave-."

"I saw you hit her," Ethan stated in a low tone.

_A/N – Thank you so much for all your reviews, updating these past couple of weeks has been extremely difficult given the magnitude of server problems that are currently preventing the majority of authors from updating via normal means. So a huge thanks for your patience! Hope everyone is keeping well :)_


	4. Blackmail

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Three -**

**Blackmail**

* * *

_**Back at Guarded Grove High School…**_

Conner found himself staring at the nameless girl for such a long time, that his intense focus dragged his consciousness into some swirling, maddened vortex of ill ease. He couldn't fidget or scratch or move his feet or crack some smart ass comment to relieve the mental distention. There was simply no order to his panic.

Being grounded would be punishment enough, but there was no way he could deal with missing another soccer practice. _Fuck_. She was bleeding. Diminutive traces of grey snow agitated his nose; the smell of it was worse but he couldn't manage to scratch the itch. The opaque wind created breathy flames amongst Kira's flailing hair making the scene before him seem worse. What would become of his future college file now? The sky was angry. It was nothing in comparison to the onslaught he'd face when his parents found out.

The breeze reminded him in spite, as he heard it rustle and collide with his keys still settled in the car's ignition.

Bloody kryptonite. He couldn't even think about how he'd deal with losing his car.

"Oh my God I'm fucked," he whispered to himself utterly deadened.

Kira's horror picked up a gear, her darting eyes a frenzied giveaway to the intense mental breakdown she was experiencing. Madness cast her hands in angry sweeping movements toward her face as she pushed the falling sleet from her view. Her right leg was ticking unremittingly. Her question to the pile of a girl before them was repetitive.

"A-are you okay?" she wobbled out what seemed like the twentieth time, her feet carrying her in little nervous movements before stopping her again.

The unknown teenager didn't respond nor react. She seemed to push her face into the unforgiving pavement below her, as though using it to sponge the tears that Conner could unmistakably hear. Her pain was an afterthought that maybe Conner had for her, but she didn't seem to have for herself, and she only continued to make him squirm as she clawed at the cement with her dirtied fingers. The lightest of blood marred the ground where she had begun her desperate crawl only a few feet back.

His mind wasn't dealing.

Kira spun around and probably said and did quite a few things that Conner didn't register. She was this tiny little thing, but her eyes were an entire atmosphere of their own and they gradually dragged him in, slamming him back down to earth as he heard it out of nowhere:

"…and residents in all districts of Guarded Grove have been issued with a curfew effective from five-pm today as a result of this impending storm front-."

"Are you even-."

"Shh!" Conner hushed Kira abruptly, as he grabbed her thrashing hands with his own and stared toward his car. His ears searched desperately through the growing static from the vehicle's radio as the news report continued:

"To repeat to all our listeners, President Mayne has declared a state-wide curfew in force from five-pm today in lieu with recent government recommendations on the efficient handling of potentially life-threatening weather conditions-."

"Did you hear that?" Conner asked, slowly moving his twisted face to meet Kira's.

His classmate shook her wrists free of his clutches, her own expression somewhat less hating of him and more so a reflection of his own.

Her head tilted. "Did I just hear what I think I heard?"

He nodded. "They just said they're enforcing a curfew from five because of some storm that's about to hit…" his words fell gracefully as he blinked away at sleet which found its resting place on his eyelashes.

Kira's nose was graced by the same steady fluttering, and together they gazed up to the sky that blanketed its ominous foretelling over them. The clouds had been frightened away, their leaden canvas drowned by mutated snow as though the heavens themselves were falling. The wind was weakened by its downfall. Conner blinked a million times but the illusion remained the same. Driving would become an impossible task before he knew it.

His face leveled slowly, watching as Kira's found his own and the moment was diminished by a whimper nearby. Her face soured painfully, but all Conner could do was scratch the back of his head.

"We need to go home," he mentioned neither here nor there. While he wasn't exactly thrilled at the concept of a curfew, he was less enthralled by the idea of being caught in a whiteout.

Kira crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, no one wants to get away from here any quicker than I do Conner but the fact remains that you hit that girl with your car and you can't just pretend it didn't happen."

Conner sighed impatiently. "For all we know Kira, she's probably some escapee from the nut house," he reasoned. "I mean look at her. She's dressed in a bed sheet. She's probably homeless. Look at her hands; they're stained in dirt. I'm not losing my car, freedom or future over some homeless girl who was probably sleeping in the middle of the road."

Her eyes sunk severely. "Are you serious? Are you that unbelievably shallow that you care more about your car then another human being?" she asked him incredulously.

He flicked his tongue against his teeth. The signal of the radio was being teased by the sky's tide.

"We need to go, now," he emphasized in defiance. He tore away from any further protests, heading straight for the driver's side door. The wind was starting to rot beyond a bad smell and he scrunched up his face, spitting several times as he swung open his door and came face to face with a familiar, yet unwelcoming face.

The boy glanced at Conner with a hoisted eyebrow, and the soccer player groaned in response. "I thought a computer mastermind such as yourself would have already known about the curfew tonight," Conner muttered, not bothering to conceal his irritation.

Ethan James' face remained even, but the usual glint of superiority remained in his eyes. "Actually, I do."

"Great, so why don't you venture back to your little cave-."

"I saw you hit her," Ethan stated in a low tone.

Conner blinked, feeling as though all his stitching was coming undone. Shit. All he needed was some smart-ass snitching on him and he'd be punished for the next twenty years.

He tossed his shoulders back, propping his chin up a notch as the African-American boy stepped out of his seat and waited for him to respond. Conner swallowed, narrowing his gaze in his attempt to intimidate him. "What- you trying to blackmail me or something?"

Conner watched the boy's lip jerk into a satisfied smugness. "No," Ethan glanced down. "But before you start freaking out about covering up the crime, I thought you should know that I saw her flying out of the sky approximately ten seconds before you nearly drove her over."

"Huh…" he barely sounded, as he tossed his head around as though to reconfirm the shocking series of events. He shaded his questioning eyes with a rigid hand, watching for a moment as Kira tended to the injured girl through the grayness that filled the short distance between them.

Wisps of hair settled again as he moved his attention back at his fellow student, the deteriorating weather suddenly taking a back seat as he quickly grew curious as to what Ethan was trying to get at.

"What are you trying to say?" Conner asked, his voice sounding husky as he felt his sinuses lose a battle with the elements.

Ethan's cocky smile was tight as he shrugged. "Well, you guys know about the curfew…"

"Yeah, because it's pissing down snow obviously," Conner nodded. "What's your point?"

"This has nothing to do with the weather," Ethan suggested. "And have you smelt this stuff? It isn't snow. Snow is frozen water-."

"Get to the point, Ethan," Conner cut him off impatiently.

Ethan took a step toward him. "Look, I'm only sharing this with you because I personally want to find out more myself. The real reason for the curfew tonight is because aliens have been falling from the sky and the government is worried that they'll get into Guarded Grove."

Conner's body jerked at his revelation, before he put his loosely closed fist to his mouth, chuckling in bemusement. "Aliens? You're serious?" he went to throw his head off to share his incredulity with Kira, but quickly restrained himself. He folded his arms over his chest. "There are no aliens on earth, genius boy. The power rangers died saving this piece of dirt for us so we could go on living in paradise."

Ethan took another step toward him, the weather remaining the only buffer between their closed in faces. "I know you're not the brightest guy at school, Conner, but even if you think I'm talking crap, I got enough to show you to change your mind. Your version of reality is some messed up account of a lie that suckers like you are happy going on believing."

Kira's voice was stifled and distant and too easily ignored.

"How exactly are you going to show me anything wise ass? And why would I even care enough to give you five more minutes of my day?"

"Because the world's going to end soon Conner, and it's got nothing to do with a snow storm; I'm sure some reward money would appeal to you enough to make you want to find out more about her."

The snow wasn't cold. It wasn't numbing. It wasn't white. Conner bit his lip a little in consideration and then pursed them tightly. "This had better be good."

"Oh, it will be," Ethan replied firmly, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

Conner relented his stance, turning in time to watch Kira's staggering form push through the impending blizzard, her petite torso heaving rhythmically as she half dragged the mystery girl toward his car. Her mouth was ugly, her groaning and huffing peaking above everything as she came within clearer view.

"Put her in the back seat," he ordered her.

Kira pulled up abruptly and blew her bangs violently out of her eyes. "What? Are you planning on burying her on some deserted stretch of road?" she said sarcastically, before her eyes suddenly recognized their new visitor. "Ethan…wow, this day is just getting better. I hope you realize that you're now an accessory to Conner's stupidity."

Conner stepped in front of her and sighed. "Get in the car, Kira. Ethan has something supposedly important to tell us."

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Four: Welcome to Old L.A.**

"It's definitively delightful," Zedd flexed the meaty bone between his fingers, a loud cracking drawing the gathering to a silence as it snapped within this grasp. "A feast for a king…compliments to the chef, only he could make the stringy flesh of a human worthy of my temptation."

_A/N – Thanks so much for all your reviews! It's been a long two weeks far away from home and with one very sick and miserable little baby – hopefully you'll see the next chapter posted sooner rather than later!_


	5. Welcome to Old LA

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Four -**

**Welcome to Old L.A**

* * *

_His Majesty's Regal Quarters_

_The Zedd Kingdom_

_Old Los Angeles_

The elated soaring with every breath paled in comparison to the glorious structure encasing his power and the emperor stood tall with that knowledge, a thickened smile forming as he grasped the railing before him. It amazed him even still how much twisted beauty he'd found in the humanoid planet he now called his home; yet as he glanced over the endless candles of light that sat well below his chamber's balcony, he was overwhelmed by it. The smell of blood crowded his breathing aids and he drank in another burst of air, releasing it in a deep and steady murmur of serenity.

Despite the blanket of night falling with its rhythmic predictability over the continent, cadence still escaped from the vastly expanding alien metropolis of Old Los Angeles as though silence no longer had any ownership to the moon. Every new day revealed new growth, a leap or bound in a greater direction. No other monarch in any of the surrounding galaxies could boast a victory such as Lord Zedd. His patience had proved to be well worth the many days where he had come to regret not simply blowing up Earth and moving onto the next planet that caught his distaste.

Pleasure tantalized his otherwise numbed form as Zedd heard panicked screams echoing from some direction and he shook his head. He snickered and sucked in another breath of air.

Human beings were as stupid as they were ugly. The alien emperor had never understood the complexities of human emotion or self-slavery to morals and self-imposed rules. The New World offered them freedom from such unnecessary sanctions, yet as simple as the proposal was to them, so many of them refused to follow the one very simple tenet. Work or die. Sometimes he wondered if they would have been more grateful had he gassed their entire kind to extinction those eleven years ago; instead, he'd offered them what they wanted and in return he had more than eighty-thousand slaves to build his glorious kingdom. It had been a brilliant idea of his; risky, yes, but so very brilliant. His regal realm was almost complete and fairly soon he would have no requirement for them.

That would be the day he would blast the human population into extinction. He was only waiting on one final delivery of very good news...

A knock on his chamber door reminded him of this and Zedd spun around, straightening himself up as he knowingly invited his trusted assistant inside.

Finster bowed his head, his canine-like snout picking up as Lord Zedd sighed at his insisted formality.

"Get on with it," Zedd gestured with his hand, causing the smaller being to scurry on the spot.

"I come with good news, Lord Zedd," the alien scientist claimed. "We have received confirmation from Serpentera on the demise of SPD's A squad."

"Brilliant!" Zedd lengthened out, pumping his fist with every savored syllable. "Now it is time to finally force President Mayne into the surrender of Guarded Grove-."

"I uh-." Finster paused suddenly, his head ducking slightly as Zedd glared at him unfavorably. He cleared his throat. "I apologize for needing to cut celebrations short, My Lord; however, minister Osib has requested your attendance for a briefing on the confrontation."

Zedd frowned behind the metallic faceplate adorning the front of his skull. He took a few calculated steps toward his loyal servant, a low growl emanating as he reached his position and gently lifted the creature's snout. His fingers were like blades to his throat.

Finster went to speak but quickly changed his mind, holding his mouth shut as his jaw rattled with trepidation.

The emperor dragged the edge of his finger across his servant's neck as he turned away from him and slowly moved toward the exit of his chamber. Finster's minuscule feet scurried behind him, his head ducked low as he reached his commander's side.

"If I may my Lord…" Finster started.

Zedd huffed in arrogance. Symmetrical lights glazed his commanding form in generous luminosity as the intricate walls of the main corridor arched around them in spectacular architecture. The bloodiest of crimson carpet absorbed his every step.

The alien scientist's hands clasped together as though in prayer to God himself. "If I may," he repeated. "Minister Osib is presently attending a feast in the main dining hall and had requested if perhaps you could meet with him afterward…"

Zedd didn't miss a step. "I think now is timely enough," he responded without compromise. "I trust there will be no objections to a friendly _briefing_ over a nice meal," he added in muted sarcasm, his fingers moving as cursor marks to emphasize Finster's earlier choice of words.

"W-wh no, no of course not my Lord," Finster promptly assured, "I can have our head chef put aside the best portion for you."

Zedd snickered at his choice of humor. "And what is on the menu this evening?" he reflected with matching dark wit, a small chuckle unfolding his grand entrance through two swinging doors.

The hand engraved doors drizzled to a stop behind the emperor and he watched with bemusement as Finster scuttled before him to promptly gain the timely attention of the seated guests.

His attention seeking was not necessary in the slightest.

A man with humanoid appearance stood up first, long tuffs of raven beard decorating the sides of his mouth like broken whiskers. His hair glistened unnaturally like a mushroom top on his head and it was only as he rose that five rawboned legs confirmed his extraterrestrial ethnicity.

His lips puckered like a swollen fish. "Emperor Zedd, you grace us with your presence."

"No need for formalities, Osib," Zedd relieved.

The arrowed end of his staff whined against the granite-look tiles as he slowly made his way around the majestic circular table. He drank in the offering of the night's feast- lustrous mountains of freshly baked breads drizzled in foreign spiced dipping sauces; braised Houmoun beetles atop of crushed Dubaki spine; wine aplenty. Still, nothing towered higher than the glistening crackling and fatty meats that took pride of place on a scaling high Lazy Sue.

He murmured with slight pleasure as the smell of it all awakened him.

A creature with a bulging teardrop head approached Zedd as he took his seat, bowing at his feet before greeting him to the dining hall in a complex string of broken language. Zedd hummed along, feigning his appreciation as small conversation recommenced all around him.

He snaked a hand toward the enticing stack of meat, hearing the escaping juices still sizzle off the fierce heat of the platter.

This was his government.

"It's definitively delightful," Zedd flexed the meaty bone between his fingers, a loud cracking drawing the gathering to a silence as it snapped within this grasp. "A feast for a king…compliments to the chef, only he could make the stringy flesh of a human worthy of my temptation."

Glances exchanged in an all too telling fashion. The bulbous headed alien who had just finished welcoming the king nodded his head in acceptance of Zedd's prized gratitude of his cooking.

Zedd's minister of war raised his glass of wine, its ruby innards swirling hypnotically. "A toast to our king," Osib roused the room of guests who quickly followed suit:

"To our king!" They all chanted in unison, shell-thin glass singing like bursting fireworks as everyone clinked their goblets together.

Zedd swallowed a deep chuckle at their pathetic attempt at absorbing all true intentions. "I was informed that Serpentera was successful in obliterating the SPD," he began evenly. He paused, his neck cracking as he turned to stare directly at Osib. "Minister Osib….I feel a heavy exception to my plans to celebrate tonight; do care to share."

Osib's heavy eyebrows gave nothing away; his porcelain skin the mask of a man with nothing to lose. "Lord Zedd…Goldar made communications with our base informing us that during our victory we may have incidentally caused a stability issue on the neighboring dimensional planet of Turacia."

Zedd settled back into his imposing seat. Absorption of such news was unconscious; consciously, he could only hold his breath.

"What sort of stability issue?"

Osib went to speak, before a flailing hand shot out from the opposite side of the table and cut him off dismissively.

"If I may respond on minister Osib's behalf, My Lord," Corcoros, one of his leading science researchers, spoke up mechanically. "It seems that coincidentally we have received reports from our bases in Fort Ambler, Fort Hirako and Kent Faden, along with others, of unidentified alien beings falling into L.A from an as yet unknown location."

A low growl gurgled from the very core of Zedd's motorized voice box. It was like leaking gas. Deadly. Imminent.

"Unidentified alien beings…" he repeated. Next were his nails. They didn't just tap on the table's surface. They stabbed it. Over and over.

A single flashback. The daintiest of them all; her pretty face bloodied, blood upon blood, strike upon strike. Zedd had watched his leading henchman massacre the pink ranger's unarmored body in full view of her unarmed teammate, her features no longer matching and her head clearly shattered. Jason screamed at a level that was above audible. She was all he had left as Zedd forced him to his knees and drew Goldar's bloodied sword up the middle of his back. And he had allowed them to only almost bleed dry, before he banished them from their precious planet for good, along with the rest of them.

_For good…Forever._

In all his daze, Zedd groggily grabbed the glass belonging to the man beside him, before fumbling it back down upon registering his error. Wine jumped over its edge, raining over the table unforgivably. It was a mess. The build-up finally overflowed.

Zedd shot up, stalking menacingly toward where Osib watched him without reaction or hint of ghastly anticipation. And even as the emperor used his minister's samurai sword to slice cleanly through his neck, his frozen face remained without surrender. No one dared speak.

"Clean this mess up," Zedd ordered without direction. "Dispense patrols out to bring into custody these alleged new arrivals. I want them inspected, tagged and put to work." His instructions continued to echo against the gold encrusted walls, the reflective silverware and the expansive globular skylight above. "I want every last immigrant accounted for. Finster!"

His servant hopped from foot to foot on the spot, his little arms waving nervously. "Y-Yes my Lord?"

"Summon Goldar to my chambers immediately upon his arrival, he's just earned himself a promotion as our new minister of war," Zedd directed, tossing the slain Osib's sword to the floor before heading toward the door.

"M-My Lord?"

Zedd paused, his face lowering, as though to gaze barely past his shoulder.

"What should we do if the former power rangers are located?" Finster's voice spoke up.

Zedd exhaled, their faded faces flashing before his very eyes.

"Bring them to me…"

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Five: Old Territory**

Jason was dead.

_A/N- I know it's boring, but thank you very much to everyone reading this story and even more so for taking the time for review. I wrote this chapter a lot faster then I was expecting to (Who would have known that I could write an entire chapter standing at the kitchen bench while I feed and change babies and do chores?). _


	6. Old Territory

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Five -**

**Old Territory**

* * *

_Unknown Location_

_In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out-._

He screamed in all his fury.

Jason didn't know where his legs were propelling him but he was breathing and his heart was a torrid declaration of his life. He couldn't see; he was blinded by outside walls. Air churned within his lungs but it merely choked him to the point where he fell to whatever gravity caught him.

Still breathing, he moaned in distress, clawing at the ground to assure himself it was still there. In place of the sand that caged him for all eternity was the slippery tongues of moistened grass, and he squeezed it. The rubbery texture felt too good to be real. His fingers ripped at it aimlessly before he whimpered for nothing. His tongue seemed disabled.

Jason feverishly licked at the dampened ground, longing for consolation; yearning to quench undying thirst.

Saliva settled on the edge of his lips as his head tipped to the side and he tried to see. His eyeballs traced dizzyingly as he tried to focus.

The panic was setting in again. He had to run.

His palms leaped up and slammed down onto the ground, his stocky shoulders heaving backward as he launched forward, his feet scampering. Slipping.

He screamed. Yelled. Growled. Collapsed.

The panic still hadn't left.

Jason was dead.

_No!_

He had to find the others.

He unfolded against the heavy earth, his arms reaching limply out at his sides. Jason talked to himself and squirmed as an unrelenting sensation pulsated over him. He talked. He prayed to God that someone could hear him.

The screams of that yesterday still called out to him from every angle and escape from them was futile.

How could just any other day turn into the day that would never be like any other?

Jason had woken up that very morning, his back sore and heavy and his eyes somewhat subjected to the monotony of his blank ceiling. He had never indulged the snooze button on his alarm. Instead, as always, he'd visualized his accomplishments from the day before and tallied his strength for what may lay ahead on his day. He hadn't had the time he needed the night before to commit fully to his English essay due that morning. He'd spared a thought for Billy who had undeniably less time than him, imagining how many hours he stayed behind at the Command Centre following their victory against Rita's latest fiend.

Jason figured the likelihood of an attack from their sorceress nemesis was low on the cards that day. She'd be too busy licking her wounds and reapplying her hideous makeup after her embarrassing defeat the afternoon before hand. His shoulders had stood tall. He was pumped. At most she'd send down a few of her Putty Patrollers.

How wrong had he been.

He'd left for school a little early, picking up a jog every few minutes before withdrawing into a weary pace as he approached the Hart residence on the corner. Kimberly had been bickering with her mother out on the front porch, her frustrated gesturing causing the sweater tied around her waist to waterfall to the ground at her feet. In all the years he'd known her, Jason had never seen Caroline Hart lose her composure and even at that moment, she'd remained poised, seemingly withdrawing from the conflict as Kimberly spotted him. The pink ranger bounded down the stairs to his side and even Jason had had to ignore the extra cleavage on display. He'd decided against his usual brotherly lecture.

He'd left his social science textbook at home that day. Most likely on the kitchen bench, but Jason never had the chance to know for sure. Trini had looked especially pretty that day. Zack had been cringing all the way down the locker hall about a zit that was apparently making his love life hell. Kimberly was spinning advice about various remedies, while spinning her hair hypnotically around her finger. Light rebounded off her communicator as she did and Jason remembered he has smiled to himself. That special link between the six of them had been like always being home.

Billy had not understood the fuss over Zack's acne dilemma. Tommy had left his English essay at home altogether and bolted off before Jason had even had a chance to say good morning. The early hours eventually outstretched into a decent morning. It had been a morning like any other.

The cerulean sky had started to blend into the impending clouds from the west as the lunch bell rang later in the day. The proceeding classes had been utterly uninspiring. They would burn and overlap into the memories of a million other classes he had sat through and failed to register in any pronounced way. His stomach had pleaded loudly for solace. Billy and Trini had been talking quietly amongst each other over chocolate milk and Jason remembered he'd spared a moment wondering what it was like to be that close to someone.

The smiles. The hands on the clock. The blinking of his eyes. The unassuming progression of life as they knew it.

The memories warped sharply, fanning out in jagged angles as though being melted like dated film. The audio dragged out and dragged out and slowly stretched out to the point where it was casting nothing. Everything was moving in fast forward. Jason couldn't keep up.

He was losing consciousness.

_No!_

Jason's limbs dragged eerily as though without joints and he slumped to a sitting position, shaking away his reminiscing. His head floated a little from side to side, his vision a whirling lens that finally cut through the ever consuming darkness. Crisp relief found his nostrils and agape mouth. He swore it was snowing but wondered if maybe it were just some crazy interference in his line of sight.

His palms found his face and he tried to inhale their memory. All he could hear was their screaming again from his mind's eye.

"Come on Jase," he whispered into his hands, gulping the words back in as quickly as he spoke them. "You have got to find them. You have got to remember."

He tried to count to five before he slowly divulged his face to whatever reality he had found himself in.

_Grass…_

A flash of Kimberly stole him and he jolted, the sudden recollection mentally raping him of any power to will it away. He started shaking and wrapped himself in his arms, jerking and breaking into a heavy mess.

_In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out-._

"_I will fucking kill you you fucking-."_

_Goldar's calculated cackling was the undertone to his blatant intentions. He stepped over Kimberly's body, dragging her arm with him to expose her face to the sky above. _

"_Stay the-."_

"_Hushhhhhhhhh Jason," a patronizing whisper found his ear, as Jason's felt the coldness of Lord Zedd's face mask brush the side of his head. "Don't make this messier then it's already been."_

_Goldar dropped to his knees, his barbaric claws pulling at the tightness of Kimberly's tank top. As he sliced it from her lifeless frame he let out a spoken smirk as her small breasts parted and rested before him._

_Jason was yelling and screaming and spitting from behind the hand now fastened over his mouth._

"_You see red ranger, you were…"_

_The titan struck Kimberly's face._

"_Always…"_

_Again._

"_Out of your league."_

_Jason was praying. Begging._

"_It's too late to ask God for help," Zedd allowed brusquely. "He has left you, just as your precious mentor Zordon and your fallen comrades. They can't hear you now. But I hear you, Red Ranger and I know you can hear me…"_

_Again._

" _I need a place to build my new home…the land where Zordon engineered his impressive headquarters shall bare the fruits of my eminence. I will reap its soil of the very elemental residue which fueled his glory on your pathetic humanoid planet."_

_Again and again. _

"_P-LE-E-AS-S-S-S-E!" Jason hollered, saliva pooling in between Zedd's fingers. "Don't kill them!"_

_His legs bent under the alien emperor's weight as he forced Jason to his knees._

"_Death would be the easy way out – where you're all headed Jason, you'll wish I'd slaughtered you all-."_

The flashback disintegrated as Jason felt a pain latch onto his right shoulder, sending a burning sensation crawling over the skin nearby. He was delayed in his reaction, groaning without aim, before he started spitting out the sleet that was invading his mouth from above. The wind wasn't cold. He reached his left hand up to grab the throb of his opposite arm, when out of nowhere he heard the abutting culprit.

Jason let out another loud groan, swinging his body in no direction as he watched the rock rebound off his arm and hop along the sallow grass nearby. He heard another from the same direction and the agitation was enough to finally pull him up, his arms reaching out before him as though in almost surrender.

"Hey, stop that!" Jason croaked out, his face tipped toward his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the next blow.

A smaller stone fell short and dribbled to a stop before his bare feet and Jason glanced up, squinting his focus as he spotted movement up ahead.

"Travon; Jarell – get inside, now! What on earth are you two doing outside in this weather?" Jason heard a burly man's voice exclaim exasperatedly.

"There's a nutter out by the tree-."

"Get inside, now, before your mother has an aneurism!" The man cut the high-pitched voice off. "Go, now!"

Jason blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating. Whatever smell lapped at his nostrils was disgusting by all accounts, but the soles of his feet were damp. There were various noises and sounds. The taste of something that remained like ash on his tongue. Shapes continued to form a slowly building silhouette in the clearing and he staggered toward it, tears welling in his eyes as he realized where he was.

"Please, please help me!" Jason gasped out, dragging his right leg behind him.

"Hey, slow down buddy, the center is closed for a curfew right now-."

"Ernie, pl-lease, it's me; it's J-jason Sc-sc-ott-."

Ernie Morone's face ducked a level, his small eyes quivering at the sight of a ghost.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Six: Naked Tattoo**

She slowly pushed the door open, peeling open the line of sight toward the naked girl, but her breath caught instantly. Holding the handle steady, Kira squinted as she noticed the obvious scarring to her back, its painful menace consuming the lower half of her body. Melted, shiny skin formed jagged lines that at first seemed random, before she recognized the intentional words within them.

R.I.P Pink Ranger

_A/N- Thank you for all your reviews! =). Much appreciated! Apologies for the delay in updating, as always, I'm just insanely busy. A pretty broken chapter. The next chapter is partially under way and I'd like to have it posted soon!_


	7. Naked Tattoo

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Six -**

**Naked Tattoos**

* * *

_The Ford Residence_

_Lot 2, West Road 5_

_Area 4, Guarded Grove_

Kira's rough fingernails knifed at the hip of her black jeans, sneaking into and jerking at the flap of her pocket frustratingly. Her eyes bore into the wooden door facing her, a dark hue lacing its frosted glass panels as though reflecting the darkness growing within her. She jerked her shoulder forward, grunting under her breath as she finally reached the burrowed key and ripped it from its hiding place.

She didn't know why she should be at all surprised. So her father wasn't home, what was so unusual about that? Kira couldn't recall an afternoon she'd returned home to find a light on or the door unlocked. Did she really think a government enforced curfew would change her father's priorities in the slightest?

Kira assumed that no matter where her father passed out for the day, he managed to call their next door neighbor to come and collect him as he did most afternoons. Once upon a time she found the whole ordeal to be downright embarrassing, but thankfully John Oliver never made a big deal about it nor mentioned it at school in front of anyone. She guessed he most likely felt sorry for her, but she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about flaunting her pathetic personal circumstances for any sort of gain.

Her foot kicked at a piece of loose concrete nearby, her hand pausing as the key sat at the base of the lock, before she shoved it in and heard it click over.

_This was a mistake…_

"She's definitely asleep," Ethan's voice suddenly startled her from behind, as his hand swatted at the dirty breeze. "We should just let her rest and check on her again shortly."

Kira swung around, misplaced guilt flushing at her cheeks before she quickly pushed her shoulders back and released a composing breath. Conner lagged only a few short steps behind Ethan, the two boys settling on the lower step to the entrance of her house.

Not her home; just a place she preferred to keep almost like a secret because of the potential it had to expose her weakness.

Conner looked bored, before his eyes peered at her strangely. "You right?" he asked her almost awkwardly, before he spat away at the floating sleet that drifted for his face.

Kira's eyes' leaped under the shade of her bangs as she nodded toward the ground. She turned to open the door, but ungracefully tripped over another misplaced stone on her way causing her to groan in irritation. Neither Conner nor Ethan said a word, clearly too desperate to reach some shelter from the horrendous weather.

The light in the living room blinked more than a dozen times before it clung onto insufferable luminance, sending shadows to race for their positions. There was little for them to hide behind; two ugly couches, a rickety coffee table, a lamp stand without a lamp and a wall cabinet with missing glass panels. A half empty bottle of Gin was the only item on display. The floor was tidy enough but nothing matched. Everything screamed rejected. It was the ultimate cliché in human poverty.

Kira's body swallowed up the nearest couch as she stretched herself out, purposely taking up both seats. Her eyes stayed focused on a crumb or piece of dust on the carpet, before she heard Conner throw out a snicker from behind.

"What?" she almost snapped at him, her glare quickly giving way to a bitter pout.

He walked past her seat, raising his eyebrows. "It's homely."

"Where's the power supply around here?" Ethan interrupted the exchange, as he immediately settled a mobile computer on the coffee table.

Conner dropped onto the other couch as Kira screwed up her face a little, unenthusiastically motioning to the far corner. "I thought you said there was something important which was why we had to come here?" she reminded her two class mates. "I don't want to be stuck in this curfew watching you play 'Space Invaders'."

"Actually," Ethan spoke up matter-of-factory, fingers feverishly typing away on the keyboard. "This might just be the one thing to save you."

He paused, his dark chocolate eyes roaming the room quickly. Kira grabbed hold of a malformed scatter pillow, squeezing it between her crossed-over arms.

"Look, I get it, okay? Not all of us are privileged enough to have parents who can afford a computer," she gestured toward the device, before setting her sights on Conner, "or a car. Do you know how many people are lucky enough to even own a car, Conner? No. It's people like you who will make this world destined for doom-."

"Eleven percent," Ethan interrupted in a methodical whisper. "Latest statistics gathered by the Mayne government have shown eleven percent of Guarded Grove residents have a registered motor vehicle."

Kira slumped back in her seat, rolling her eyes.

Conner was frowning, before he briskly shook his head. "Er, okay…back to Earth," he muttered. "Be in denial as much as you want, Kira, but I personally wouldn't mind some extra cash."

"Extra cash, how?" Kira asked.

"Reward money," Ethan finally stopped bashing at his keyboard, rubbing his hands together. Kira stared at him with perplexed disgust, but he seemed oblivious. "Five thousand bucks for an alien-."

"Wha-."

"We split it evenly," Conner cut off Kira's protest, before he shook his head. "Unless of course, Kira doesn't want her share."

"Are you guys for real?" Kira spat out, frowning so heavily she thought she'd tip herself off the couch. "She is not an alien! There hasn't even been any alien sightings in forever, because they're not on Earth! And even if there were aliens on Earth, how do you think some alien girl is going to make it all the way over the wall and into the center of Guarded Grove?"

"No alien sightings, _reported_," Ethan emphasized, leaning back on his hands as he remained seated on the floor. "My uncle Damon works for Larson's construction and they were doing work near one of the checkpoints and I shit you not, he said there were three alien sightings in one week alone and SPD paid hush money to keep it on the low."

Kira couldn't tell if Conner was impressed by Ethan's colorful retelling or if he were simply too stupid to understand his point.

"So…you are trying to tell us that the SPD police keep alien sightings under wrap for…what purpose exactly?" she queried.

"It's a government conspiracy," Ethan's response sounded every bit as bold as his gesturing that escorted it. "They don't want us to know that there are aliens on the other side of the wall because it would cause chaos and panic. They wouldn't be able to control the population. People would freak out and try to escape somewhere safe."

Kira looked doubtful, crossing one leg over the other as Conner finally injected his contribution to the conversation unfolding.

"If there were actually aliens here on Earth, then why wouldn't they just march on over and invade us? I mean, there's just a wall around us…"

Kira's face loosened a little and she raised her eyebrows surprised by Conner's valid point.

"Have your parents ever told you about the invasion of 1995?" he asked them, clearly hoping both of them would say no, just so he could keep talking. Kira half shrugged and Ethan continued to speak before Conner could respond. "Lord Zedd's empire literally walked right into Angel Grove and killed their ass. Not even the US government's most covert lethal military forces could make a dint in this maniac's advances…"

Kira dropped the side of her head in her hand as she rested her elbow on the armrest.

"Everyone thought for sure the Power Rangers would be able to hold Lord Zedd back, but not even they were a match for his brutal power. No one knows for sure what happened to them, but most believe he tortured them to death and sent them shooting into the moon. In the war and bloodshed that unfolded in the months after, an underground body formed right here in Guarded Grove and used what remained of the Power Rangers abandoned alien technologies to push back Lord Zedd; but they themselves were taken over by a newly formed government who used these same acquisitions to bargain with Lord Zedd. They secured a parameter around a focused area of Angel Grove and here we are. Rumor has it that Lord Zedd remains on the other side of the wall, building some futuristic kingdom with humans as slaves-."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Conner intercepted, sitting so far forward he nearly stood up. "I think your little geek computer club spends way too much time-."

Kira's face shot up to attention as she heard the door bell chime sporadically. It shrieked sharply, drumming through their silence and she wearily stood up, her stomach binding knots as she felt the dread transform her. Her arms wrapped nervously around her body and her feet tread restlessly until the buzzing suddenly ceased and Conner's perplexed voice spoke up from behind her.

"You gonna get that?"

She was about to reply when to her relief, she heard the front door close and the mystery girl appeared in the entrance-way to the living room.

She looked directly through the three teenagers with an empty stare and Conner cleared his throat. In the uncovering of the artificial light, the girl's horrendous physical condition almost hit Kira back a few steps.

She fidgeted, not knowing how to swallow her shock. "Hi-i," she greeted her quietly. "There's a curfew on at the moment and because we're not allowed out, we're going to have to stay here at my place until it's over…" Kira walked toward her, hesitating as the girl seemed to lean over unsteadily and flinch at her advancement.

The material that strangled the girl's petite frame seemed to be literally stuck to her dewy skin. "Do you want a shower and maybe some clean clothes to change into?" Kira offered, hiding her cringe the best she could as she noticed the girl's lips shiver a purpled shade of blue.

The girl did nothing more but blink, so Kira gently reached around her shoulder with her awkward fingertips and guided her up the hall toward the bathroom. She left her settled in front of the basin, before quickly tearing away, jogging up to her bedroom where she was greeted by strewn clothes and books. Finding a black top and pants, she headed back toward the bathroom, slowing down as she heard the sound of water splashing against the floor.

With her hand on the bathroom door's handle, she paused and discreetly peeked through the crack, watching as the brunette seemed to be paddling water again and again onto her face. The sheet that had been meekly covering the girl's naked body beneath was now bunched at her feet, exposing her dirty, bronzed skin from below.

"Great..." Kira sighed awkwardly under her breath, closing her eyes to gather herself.

She slowly pushed the door open, peeling open the line of sight toward the tiny girl, but her breath caught instantly. Holding the handle steady, Kira squinted as she noticed the obvious scarring to her back, its painful menace consuming the lower half of her body. Melted, shiny skin formed jagged lines that at first seemed random, before she recognized the intentional words within them.

_R.I.P Pink Ranger_

Kira flinched as the girl suddenly spun around, throwing her arms in front of her body.

"It's okay," Kira stammered, her eyes jolting about before she reached for a towel, stretching it out toward her. "I didn't mean to freak you out."

The broken girl's eyes remained cowardly as she clung to the towel like a child would to a stuffed toy.

"I'll come back and um check on you shortly…make sure you can find everything you need…yeah…um…yep."

Kira's feet couldn't travel any faster. The hollow air around her blurred as she flung her limbs hysterically, cutting around the corner and into barricade of Conner's lanky frame unexpectedly.

She barely grunted an apology, pushing his immediate reaction away with a disinterested gesture, before turning to face Ethan.

"Is there any way you can use your computer to find a photo of the Power Rangers?"

Ethan's full lips remained settled, as he pondered her query seriously. "It would depend on whether or not any photos or information on the Power Rangers was uploaded on the latest update of the InfoLibrary."

"Quick, quick, check," Kira hurried him, her hands circling in darting, restless movements.

Conner's tall frame bent over a notch, his face staring at hers deliberately. "What's wrong-."

"Holy smoke," Ethan's voice was transparently captured. "It's her."

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Seven: Living Ghosts**

"I'm...I'm so sorry Jason-."

"No!"

_A/N- It's boring to say the same thing every single author's note, but a huge THANKS to everyone who takes the time to read our stories and an even BIGGER THANKS to those who take the time to leave a review. What a wonderful circle of writer/reader life it is haha. I had someone ask me how long I think this story will be…I don't even know how it will end (Yes, I am sort of, kind of, writing on the fly!), but it will be long…very long. We are only at the beginning._


	8. Living Ghosts

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Seven -**

**Living Ghosts**

* * *

_The Community Center_

_Also known as The Former Youth Center_

_Guarded Grove_

Jason was like the wounded animal, pacing a winding stretch around an empty bench table and a random chair that that was missing a leg. His feet scuffled, causing the slippery flooring to shriek at him and he swung around, frightened by the menace that was himself. A mirror in the corner hung off center, casting a broken reflection of his surroundings.

"Oh God," he breathed out despairingly, reaching out to the ground so he could safely fall to its level. His limbs sprawled off in all directions, his head the slowest of the lot as it warbled tiredly to an eventual stop.

The aging man before him seemed too old. His motions were careful; not so much precise, but as though everything inside just…ached.

Jason released a breath. His lungs had regained a gentle rhythm.

"Are you a…ghost?"

Jason licked his lips as though to suckle them for moisture. "Wa-ter," his voice was breathy. "P-lease. Water."

Ernie's hurried pace became a blur.

"Here," he guided Jason, the red ranger feeling the plastic slip between his lips. "It's filtered."

Jason devoured the water so feverishly that his heavy gulping moved to him biting on the cup as though he didn't know how to stop. It dropped to his lap and he begged Ernie for more.

"You need to slow down…"

"I-." Jason's words suddenly drowned under too much water and he gasped, before coughing sharply, sending it barraging back out his mouth.

The insides of his throat hurt and he grabbed his neck uncomfortably.

Ernie remained crouched before him, studying him discerningly. "So I guess you're not a ghost then?"

Jason lowered his hand from his neck and shook his head a little, his eyes unable to match the older man's.

The Youth Center owner lowered into a seated position before him, grimacing as he tried to settle his legs comfortably. "You're not a decoy, are you?"

Jason was finally ready to recall the English language beyond the lunacies of dehydration. "Who would send me as a decoy?" he asked, clearing his throat sharply as he finished. The wind kicked up from outside, pulling Jason's gaze in a circular motion of wonder. "What happened here?"

His question was barely a whisper.

Ernie's expression alluded to his remaining weariness, but his eyes were too forgiving all the same. "They told us all you were dead…"

Jason blinked, bypassing the rampant memories that shot up to the surface. "We assumed…we thought that everyone would be gone," his eyes welled in poignant realization. "How are you still here…h-how, how is all…" too much was coming to him at once, before he stared directly at him. "How is Earth still standing?"

Ernie's face shook toward his lap as though in search for a fitting response. "Earth isn't standing, Jason…it's resting on its knees in mercy to Lord Zedd's alien empire…"

"_Tommy! Come in! Are you there? Please! Please bro! I need-."_

"_Jason, hurry!" Kimberly shrieked, as he spun around to catch the image of her falling angrily to the grass. _

_Her hands were wrapped around her body protectively, as though she only just noticed the impressive magenta armor fading away from her mortal skin-._

"Jason?"

Jason stammered out loud, throwing his hands out as Ernie's movement startled him. He closed his eyes, unwilling to reveal the anguish of his unforeseen flashback.

"What happened?" Jason finally pressed him on, stabilizing his features.

"As I was saying…Zedd took control of the world, Jason. Everything happened so quickly, we barely had any time to respond. By the time the government even tried to start up an evacuation process, most of the country was in ruins. In a matter of weeks and months, Zedd gained global access and billions were left for dead."

"Were you evacuated?"

Ernie nodded, his own eyes evidently entranced by their own distant memories. "We were the fortunate ones. A group of self-proclaimed vigilantes took refuge in a government built underground shelter just outside of Angel Grove, to the deserts in the east. I made my way there with a group of other survivors and we remained there for a number of months until a government body came for us and escorted us out. They told us that the aliens had left and that we were the only survivors of Zedd's invasion."

"How many of you were there?" Jason asked.

Ernie shook his head. "Not many, less than a hundred but it wasn't long after we got back on the surface that other survivors appeared. The recovery effort was painful for everybody. The government formed and self-elected their own members, and over the following three years a boundary fence was built around the perimeter of Guarded Grove. The last census carried out declared our population to be twenty-six thousand."

_Guarded Grove…_

"They said the fence is imperative to keep the population inside safe from the unlivable conditions beyond Guarded Grove's border line. The clean-up would have been impossible…all the disease alone," Ernie paused, the heavy lines around his eyes creasing further as he squinted. "Where have you guys been, Jason?"

Jason sniffed, as he reached up and rubbed his nose. He willed the memories to rest at bay.

"We lost…" his words were intangible. "Zedd banished us to exile on a planetary dimension where time…literally didn't exist."

_In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in, out-._

"I have to find the others," he suddenly gasped out, launching himself with such futile effort that Ernie merely blinked at him.

He placed a calming hand on the teenager's forearm.

"We'll find them Jason…but you can't stay here. It's not safe. Zedd is bound to hear that you guys are back here."

Jason frowned sharply, his dark eyes slanting with an ignited madness. "I thought Zedd wasn't here anymore?"

Ernie seemed to glance around, a misplaced paranoia haunting his features. "That's what they like to make us think," he finally whispered. "But Zedd's still here, Jason, he never left. He's spent the last decade building an alien kingdom south of Angel Grove. They say it's centralized on the old Los Angele's area-."

"Bu-."

"Keep it down!" Ernie hushed him. "This is privileged information, it can't leave this room, you hear me? The only reason I even know any of this is because of my involvement with a secret insurgence group that seeks to uncover the truth beyond the walls our government has locked us within. I can't risk the safety of my family."

Jason was delayed. He was unreachable.

"_I'm so thirsty," Trini gazed up at him, her palm outstretched to rest on his bare chest._

_Jason couldn't connect with her grief, for he knew it would be all too consuming._

_Many steps to the west, two young lovers remained entangled in their own mismatched dance. Kimberly's pain was now written in scars, her frame folded over as she preoccupied herself by parting her fingers through sand. Tommy's broad shoulders housed the tension she could no longer muster. Could no longer recall. And it was killing him._

_Killing them all as they waited to die-._

"…Jase?"

Jason grunted, clawing at his face. He sighed into his fingers, almost gagging at his own stench.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Ernie," he murmured. "I'm struggling to get my head together." He felt Ernie's hand rest consolingly on his shoulder. "I need to find the others."

The aging man appeared to be deep in thought. "Guarded Grove is in curfew at the moment, so it's going to be impossible for you to move anywhere far-."

"I can't just sit here and do nothing," Jason pressured him, attempting to stand up. "Can I borrow your car?"

Ernie sighed. "Jason, I don't have a car. Not a lot of us do these days," he paused, reaching out to hold Jason still as he stumbled to his feet. "Hey, stop. You can't just leave. You're in no shape to be going anywhere."

"They could be anywhere, lost and disorientated – What if Zedd-."

"Zedd can't just waltz over here," Ernie reassured him, his hand still firmly gripped on Jason's shoulder. He shook his head as though frustrated with himself. "The government has an undisclosed truce in place with Zedd which is the reason why he hasn't actively come over and invaded us."

Jason grimaced somewhat. "What sort of truce would any government make with Zedd? Zedd's nothing but a cold-blooded murderer."

"Despite countless attempts to infiltrate government communications, we still don't know the terms on which an agreement was made. But there have definitely been talks between President Mayne and Lord Zedd and countless times in reference to a treaty."

Jason felt his own weight pushing down on his bones and he hinged his body against the nearby wall. The inside skin of his mouth felt as though it were starting to peel, anguishing for more water.

Ernie's retellings were poignant and yet all Jason could focus on was water.

_What if this is just a hallucination…_

"We need to get you somewhere safe," Ernie decided, his attention now plastered on the frayed pocket of his pants. "I could make some calls; get you to a safe house."

"Ernie, I need to find them," Jason reiterated, his words forced with an intense breath. "I don't care about my safety."

Ernie's fingers started poking at a cell phone and Jason sighed heavily. He moved past him, his own actions clumsy and yet the older man's even more so delayed. Jason's right leg automatically started to drag behind the other and he cursed, groaning and moaning with every step until he reached the heavy-laden door to the outside world.

He tore it open, his violent motion exposing a dystopian scenery that slapped him backwards.

"N-no!" he stammered, angrily shutting the door closed. He stumbled back, colliding into the wall at his side, before he spat out nothingness to nothing. He wanted to rip the door open again, wanted to blanket his vision with the memories of a life he could barely recall.

He'd escaped hell. Jason had escaped hell only to run right back into the arms of the devil.

"This can't be happening," he practically sobbed as he pushed the tips of his fingers into his covered eyeballs. "This can't be real."

"Jason-."

"Where is everyone? Where did everything go?"

"You need to settle down, Jason!" Ernie snapped lowly. "I know you're not feeling well, but you need to settle down before someone overhears-."

"Where are our families?" Jason continued, his hands grabbing his head; grabbing Ernie's shirt; grabbing his face. "I want to see my parents."

The pain was real and it divided the space of time between Ernie contorting his face and Jason breaking through his gasping breaths.

"I'm…I'm so sorry Jason."

Jason let out a scoff. It sounded like a scoff. Anger. His fist clenched, his teeth barricading the indignation that forced through his throat.

"I never saw your parents again, Jason, I-."

"_What_ about the others? Their families?"

"Bradley Taylor was one of the survivors that made it out with me…but he passed away not even three years ago. Cancer…I never saw the others, I'm so sorry Jason. It was impossible to know what happened to everyone," he paused briefly as Jason continued to verbalize his grief. "Everything happened so fast."

Jason spun around, his hooked arm catching the deadened air as it propelled his fist into the wall that had held him standing. The lumpy plaster crumbled with only a little give; the resistance rebounded a shock wave down his arm and he pulled back, growling and crying out all in one sound.

Knocking sounded from another direction.

"Everything alright in there Mr. Morone?"

Ernie's broken footsteps. "Everything's fine! I'll be out in a minute."

Jason was still cringing and cursing to himself when he felt the youth worker's hands clasp over his shoulders.

"Jason," his words were hushed intensity. "Listen to me. I want you to take my house key and I want you to walk-." He shook him a little and Jason desperately tried to give him his attention. "I want you to walk to my house. Go across the back way and then cross the road. My house is three houses to the right and has a dark blue roof. No one's home. Go in, lock the door behind you and leave the lights off."

Jason swallowed. "What if someone sees me outside?"

Ernie shook it off. "They'll probably just think you're a 'nutter'," he paused, looking somewhat ashamed. "It's a term they give to folk from the psychiatric center. Occasionally they go walk about. But listen, you'll be fine, they may just call the cops, but the police will be tied-up with the curfew. I want you to wait at my place and take a shower, find some clean clothes and get something to eat. Okay?"

Jason swallowed again, before he nodded. "Okay. But I need to find the others…"

Ernie sighed exasperatedly. "I know you're worried Jason, but this isn't the time to be a hero. Wait for me to come back for you. I'll keep trying to call the guy who heads the rebellion movement here... maybe he's already had word on where the other rangers are."

"Who's the guy who heads the rebellion group?" Jason asked.

"Doctor John Oliver," Ernie seemed to relinquish, waiting for the realization to dawn in Jason's eyes'. "Tommy's father."

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Eight: The Bad Side of Town**

"Watch your backs, humans," it dissonantly purred. "This isn't a good part of town."

_A/N – Thanks for all your reviews! It's always great to get feedback! The next three chapters will finally bring in the remainder of our rangers – see you then! :-)_


	9. The Bad Side of Town

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter 8 -**

**The Bad Side of Town**

* * *

_Unknown Location_

Trini let out a yawn.

She was vividly aware that she wasn't asleep and yet she refused to open her eyes all the same. She simply didn't want to. Her head kept tipping and rebounding off her shoulder and she dismissed it. The tip of her nose felt stifled and held closed; her own snoring was irritating her. She couldn't breathe properly.

Her head jerked again before it settled more forcefully against her shoulder and her eyes tore open.

She finally awoke into a dream of some sort.

Trini reached up with her finger and hazily broke through a web of saliva that stretched from the corner of her lips to the shoulder at her side. She slid it into the burning core of her mouth, grimacing as her throat stung when she attempted to swallow it. Her eyes remained on the shoulder. Its bronzed flesh was a pale kiss compared to her own.

"Where…are we…"

The words came out of her mouth, and yet they didn't seem like they belonged to her. Her head rocked a little, the motion see-sawing the strange shapes and sights that fleeted before her.

Chairs, side by side. Row after row. Fluorescent lights that flickered like a persistent itch. Windows that formed walls, their surface so elusive they appeared translucent. Faded stickers peeling from bended steel. Warning lights that didn't seem to work. A hum that whined and bleated as her head wobbled. A burst of crisp air that was stolen as quickly as it brushed past.

Trini tipped her head.

"I don't think we're dreaming, Trini," Tommy murmured from beside her, his own head tipped toward hers. "At least I don't think we are."

A man sat down in a chair only two rows in front of them. Trini's eyes snapped open.

"Relax," Tommy swallowed, his arm securing around the slight frame of her shoulders. "Breathe. It's okay. Don't ask me how we got here but…we seem to be on a train of some sort…or the subway…"

Trini suddenly jolted up, her head jerking around as tears welled in her eyes and her heart took off without the rest of her. Her eyes searched desperately around the near empty cabin, but even then she didn't believe what she saw. They had to be there. They had to be. Tommy's grasp fell short as Trini broke free, stumbling desperately down the center aisle.

The man down the front seemed oblivious or disinterested in her increasing distress.

"Tommy, where are they?" her voice was pitchy, and yet there was barely any volume to back it up. She swung her head from left to right, ignoring her legs when they started to throb as she continually bashed them against the passing chairs. "Where are they!"

She collided with the end of the carriage, her body spread flat against the glass of the locked door.

Her mouth slipped and slid against the condensation as she sobbed into it, ignoring Tommy's coaxing hands to her shoulders.

"Trini…Trini, look…I want to show you something…"

The green ranger slowly turned her away from her dead end, lifting the tip of her chin with his fingers. She didn't resist, too tired to fend him off, and instead tucked her hands around her body while his image washed away in her teary gaze.

Tommy licked his lips, his eyes as intense in thought as ever before. "I think we're on Earth."

Trini was certain she was pulling so many ugly faces. Her mouth felt like it was drooping with her grief, her eyes twitching in incomprehension.

"How…"

"The zord battle that we saw in the sky," he reminded her calmly. "There was an explosion…"

Trini forgot she had been crying only a mere minute earlier. Her body jerked without warning and she felt the floor beneath her struggle to an abrupt stop. Tommy's steadying hand rested at her hip, and Trini failed to register the closeness of his body against her own.

An unpleasant smell remained between them and she scrunched her nose in recognition. "We smell disgusting," she realized absentmindedly, noticing Tommy shift out of place. She hadn't meant to be so unthoughtful. Had she lost her mind? Or was this really just some dream she had no control over?

"Tommy, we'll find her."

Kimberly. For however long hell had incarcerated them for, Trini had never seen him without his girlfriend clinging to his brooding shadow. Her very own best friend.

He nodded disjointedly, pulling away from her before she watched him take one, two, three gingerly steps and hunch over violently. His hands broke away from his sides and he collapsed to his knees, the vomit slapping against an empty seat.

Trini gasped, hurrying to his side as she dropped and created a shelter over his muscular back. Her face nestled over the back of his shoulder as he moaned distastefully, tears leaching the sides of his face.

"I need fresh air," he mentioned, spitting several times. "Water."

The yellow ranger sighed a little hopelessly, glancing around the almost ominous carriage. "Maybe we should try to get off this thing the next time it stops?" she suggested and he nodded in agreement.

Hands clasped, an almost dirty film glistened over their bare skin causing their palms to slip and break free at times. As they stood and waited near the exit, Trini soothingly circled her hand over Tommy's upper back, midnight hue and blurry speckles of light dizzyingly rushing past them as the train thundered forward.

"Stay close," Tommy told her, as they felt the train shake to another stop. The doors opened with a _whoosh_ and Trini gasped, holding her nose as the murky air invaded her already sickened senses. The platform felt so icy against her bare feet that they almost instantaneously ached. She hopped a little, shuddering as the crisp, still air of the night threatened to bring her to her knees in a huddled heap.

Then she saw it. The outlines of a freak show not even the blackest of skies could disguise.

"Tommy…" she shivered a little. "Look…"

On the platform to either side, creatures from all walks of life stood mostly alone, some seated in bench seats that rested along the inside of wired safety fences. Some had over-sized, bulbous heads; others were almost miniature in stature. Most appeared to be dressed in regular, human clothing including jackets and denim jeans and Trini even noticed two with cell phones blinking in their hands.

To the right, a creature with a patch of straw-like hair lit a half-used cigarette off the ground, his lengthy tongue slithering up its length before he let out an intoxicated purr. He removed the cigarette from his thin mouth and released a fury of smoke before his free hand raised a breathing mask from his side and placed it to his face.

"I thought we were on Earth," Trini whispered, the two teenagers staring at each other with wide eyes as they heard a puzzling commotion from elsewhere consisting of a flurrying of robotic communications.

Trini could see Tommy frown from the spotlight of a street lamp nearby. The moon was a no show, petals of falling dust or dirt the only signs of life from the night's sky.

Tommy licked his lips. "A lot of these creatures seem to be carrying around some sort of breathing apparatuses."

"Do you think maybe it's because of how dirty the air is?" Trini wondered softly.

"Maybe…or maybe the atmosphere here isn't physically suited to them," Tommy pointed out. "I think the fact that we seem to be able to breathe okay says something at least."

"Do you really think this is Earth?"

Tommy shrugged, his hand sliding around to pull her closer as the cigarette smoking alien trudged past them as though they were invisible. Trini spotted a discarded blanket that remained where the creature had once stood.

"Look," she said quietly, as she quickly walked over and scooped up the matted material.

She showed it to Tommy, as she ran over hands over it as though it were the most luxurious fabric in the world. He nearly smiled at her reaction and she felt the edge of her lips curl up somewhat childishly comforted for the briefest of moments.

"At least it's something," she said bashfully and he scooped a hand around her shoulders, dragging the blanket to cover her bare back.

Their eyes remained locked. She realized how much he was shivering.

"Let's go for a walk and see if we can find somewhere to rest; someplace warm, at least until morning," he suggested. "God knows that if this is Earth, then we're never going to find the others like this."

Trini nodded, knowing it was the most sensible idea. They found a steady pace side by side, and as they made their way down off the platform and onto the darkened street below, Trini slowly slid some of the blanket over Tommy's shoulder.

He whispered a thanks and they continued to walk aimlessly, heavy shadows blanketing them whenever the stray lights failed to reach their gloomy path. The smell and the air were no longer the consuming factor.

She continued to rub the chill from her arms as her eyes scaled up the soaring heights of buildings that towered above the street they walked. Hundreds of tiny windows seemed to fill the sky above them like fireflies, and yet the pavement they wandered was as dead as anything she had ever seen. There was the odd sound of monotonous life; a stray cat. Shadows that moved in shadows. The sound of music.

A car drove past them, its tail lights blackened and dying fast beneath the noise of its drumming exhaust. Trini was startled by the noise, but even more so by the realization; it was a car. There were cars parked along the other side of the road.

"Did you see that?" Tommy stopped her, grabbing her upper arms. Soft clouds of breath floated from his lips and she nodded with growing anticipation. "That was an SUV…Trini, we're here, we're back."

"We need to find the others…Billy and…Kim-."

She didn't have to say it.

Tommy nodded, before he motioned to a quiet alcove, just off the sidewalk. "We need some rest. As soon as the sun rises, we'll search for them. Hopefully, somehow, they're together."

"You think it's safe?" she asked him, wearied by the darkness that seemed to lock them away to the point where she could barely make out his outline.

"We'll take it in turns. You nap first and I'll keep on the lookout," he promised her.

She hesitated for a moment, but her debilitating fatigue was easily swayed by his words and she quickly huddled to the concealed spot.

Trini let out a burst of air through her clenched lips as she hiked her knees to her chest and rested her head against the concrete wall behind them. She could smell garbage from nearby, but despite her whole body protesting everything about the moment, her eyes fell to surrender so quickly that she was asleep before she could even think about trying to.

Nothingness. Overdue rest. Trini was asleep for only a matter of ten minutes, before she was hastily dragged out of its clutches. At first, the attempt felt futile; then feeble. Trini murmured in delayed protest, but her eyes quickly snapped open as the movement turned nasty and more intended.

She let out a strange cry. Her stinging eyes fell on the contour of a scaly creature that rose at the height of an adult man, yet the three pairs of hands it had wrapped around Trini's stolen blanket made its strength almost crippling. She instantly pushed her back against the wall for leverage. Clutching the fabric with everything she had, Trini threw her head over and realized Tommy was sleeping to her side without a care in the world.

"Tommy!" she gasped out, unable to spare a hand to shake him.

Her male friend instantly jumped at her cry, throwing his body to a standing position before he had even fully opened his eyes.

"Leave her alone!" Tommy raised his voice, throwing an unintentional hand toward their intruder.

The creature snarled and pulled once more on the blanket, thrusting it awkwardly from Trini's extinguished grip. She crawled feebly to her feet and was about to call out in protest, when a second, larger creature suddenly leaped from a nearby dumpster and launched an angry claw toward the blanket thief. The shorter creature howled out in pain, before they engaged in a fierce tug of war, so unexpected that Trini and Tommy merely stared at them both in astonishment.

The multi-limbed creature eventually buckled to its stomach, and swiftly slivered away in surrender. Trini watched apprehensively as the victorious being turned and eyed the two humans with an eerie superiority.

"Watch your backs, humans," it dissonantly purred. "This isn't a good part of town."

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Nine: Mind Freak**

When he peered back on his traveled path, he could see them; men, dressed head to toe in molded armor, the etching of a 'Z' on their backs catching the reflection off the street lights from above.

_A/N – Wow, thank you so much for the reviews! I really entered this story having no clear idea where I would take it. Very quickly I feel like I'm giving it more and more life with each chapter I write. I haven't made any plans for it and I am happily writing it as each chapter comes, so for me it's even a little exciting because I have no idea where it will take me! Someone PM'd me about pairings for this story – this one will definitely be Tommy & Kim (not sure if I mentioned that elsewhere already!). It will be a nice change for me, as I have a tendency to play around with these things, but this one will stay faithful to Tommy and Kimberly and I'm looking forward to exploring that. I know in some ways it seems like a slowish build-up with this story but I think it's really important to set the scene – this will be a very long story (I'll make some random guess at 50 chapters) so I think pacing is very important. I'm aiming to update once a week when I can, I'm sure there will be the occasional week where this isn't possible, but that is my aim. Anyways, thanks for checking my story out and let me know what you think! =)_


	10. Mind Freak

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter 9 -**

**Mind Freak**

* * *

**_A number of hours later in another unknown location_**

Zack was just as hastily startled from the comfort of sleep, yet the intruder was that of a different kind.

It tickled his eyelashes. It beckoned the coolness of his cheeks. It pierced the very depths of the many dreams that had stolen him for several hours; the same dreams that were nightmares but were comforting all the same because at least he was back with his friends.

The glare from the rising sun was as commanding as the pain from his guts. He was starving. Even his groin was paining. He couldn't remember ever being so aware of everything that was him. It was almost like being born all over again.

Zack stretched his arm out, flexing his fingers and counting their dips against the blazing canvas of the dawn. His joints were cold, clicking loud enough to hear them as he tried to hoist himself to a sitting position. The sheet around him was soaked wet at the front and he sighed, half-grimaced.

_Guess I don't need to hunt down a bathroom…_

His vision was still foggy. He folded up onto his knees, into a crouching position and then carefully stood up. His legs wobbled like there was a breeze; the air was still, but the same, strange soot seemed to wafting through the sky without any real starting or finishing point. Zack caught a piece on the plate of his flattened palm, but he still couldn't identify it even up close. He sniffed it and pulled back just as quickly, scrunching his face up bitterly at its foul odor.

He released it back to the dirty air and ducked out from under his hiding spot, inhaling as his body straightened up. His eyes were anchored with wings and they soared, caressing over intricate buildings that screamed architecture opulence over practicability. In place of ascending squared walls were bulbous, extravagant shapes, buildings curving and twisting over the pavement that spanned before him. Everything gleamed.

None of it looked humanely possible.

The atmosphere that back-dropped the expansive towers and fortresses was as bleak a sickened desert, yet the sounds that erupted and filled it were utterly overwhelming. There was buzzing and an array of mechanical noises; the sounds of engines rumbling and a collage of voices. An entire galaxy within a stretch of metropolitan landscape.

Zack took a single step, gazing up a road that ran off to his right. His heart skipped a beat as he recalled his chaotic dash for life in the earlier hours of the morning and gathered that was the road he had followed in. He remained cautious, holding his body tight behind the protection of a concrete pillar but he couldn't see anymore of them. The street appeared quiet, except for a few stray cats or dogs he could barely see.

He was mentally stuck. He couldn't even remember how he came to be there. One minute, he had been clinging to his friends, staring up at impending death and the next he was suddenly awake in the blackest of nights, disorientated and washed up in a tide of screaming beings. The largest of them had had lengthy green tentacles and its hollering left Zack's ears ringing. Arms and legs were flailing all around him. He'd picked himself up and ran, despite being completely unaware of why he was sprinting. Who he was fleeing from.

After the running had exhausted him beyond primal survival, Zack had noticed the screaming and patters of feet around him had greatly diminished. As he'd turned a corner, the decision to finally stop was taken out of his hands as his legs buckled under his own weight. When he peered back on his travelled path, he could see them; men, dressed head to toe in molded armor, the etching of a 'Z' on their backs catching the reflection off the street lights from above.

He'd eventually fallen to sleep. And here he was. But where was he? What was this place?

His stomach pained and he grabbed it, catching a cry of distress between his clenched teeth. The hunger was stealing his ability to think; to process. Tears stung his eyes and he rubbed them away, bouncing restlessly on the spot.

"Where are you, Jase…" he whispered to himself, glancing down the other road nearby. An oversized fence stretched down the left side of the street and he stumbled toward it, reaching out for the closest railings.

The metal was cold between his clasp and he blinked several times.

"What the hell is this place…" he wondered out loud, skimming his eyes over the scaling buildings on the other side of the fence. He couldn't see anyone, but he could many.

Zack felt something strum against his bare leg and he hopped to the left, startled by its feathered touch. He eyed the stray cat wearily, its thick white coat almost water-colored in stains and dirt.

It settled neatly a foot away, its sleek neck stretched magnificently as it cleaned and licked its paw, it's unnaturally long tail looped beside it. It purred.

It spoke.

"I would start running if I were you, human."

"What the fuck," Zack stepped back, his hands grasping his temples. "Wha-wh-."

"You shouldn't be here," it continued, its voice eerily effeminate. "Unless of course you want a personal tour of Zedd's torture chamber."

Zack dipped his head, his face twisted with disbelief. "Zedd…Zedd's here?"

The cat raised its other paw, seemingly inspecting it for a moment before curling its rough tongue around it. "You must be…one of the ones…from the explosion…in the sky," it merely commented, pausing frequently as it continued to attend to itself.

Zack moved between feet, glancing up at the high-rise buildings that engulfed them from both sides. "You're a cat…and you can talk…" he murmured, glancing back down at it with incomprehension. "I must be hallucinating."

"You're not hallucinating anything…welcome to planet Earth…"

"This is Earth?" Zack exclaimed, taking a step toward it. It lowered its paw, tipping its head to gaze at him curiously. He shook his head. "This isn't Earth. And what do you mean about Zedd?"

"Lord Zedd. Our sworn leader, worshipped and served by all who reside under the lights of Old Los Angeles."

"You mean he built…" Zack's sentence abandoned his spoken thoughts, travelling to the hushed memories of his sprint from the uniformed solders the night before. "The Z…Holy crap…Zedd's taken over the whole planet."

"Not quite," the cat injected. "The majority of Earth is uninhabitable. The axis of his kingdom is focused in the old metropolitan center of Los Angeles. He chose L.A due to its close proximity to Angel Grove."

Zack's lips became those belonging to a mime. They parted and thinned out, colliding together and then hollowing channels of words he couldn't begin to grasp. His feet took him a short stumble back. He grabbed the sides of him stomach, suffocating another painful spasm.

He swallowed dismally. "I need to find my friends."

The cat appeared to hop up from its seated state, its paws skipping weightlessly and carrying it in tiny little circles before him. "Your friends could be anywhere. Right now, you need to get as far away from here as possible."

"Tell me where to look. Where could they be? Have you seen others like me?"

The cat stopped in its mindless tracks. "I've seen hundreds of others just like you, over too many years to remember-."

"Well, I'm different," Zack cut it off, taking a deliberate step toward it. He crouched down. "I'm not like others. I used to protect this planet every single day before that S.O.B sent my teammates and I to Hell."

"You're a power ranger?" the cat hissed – literally hissed. "You definitely shouldn't be here. Turn around and run now. Don't let him find you."

"Run where? I don't know the first thing about this place. I'm starving. I'm freezing my tushie off-."

"Anywhere is better than here. Don't let anyone see you. You need to find clothes, the more hideous the better. Cover yourself up. The further you make it out of Zedd's kingdom you'll notice the gradual change in landscape. The buildings, everything will look more normal. An above ground shuttle operates in the northern outskirts. Take it at night as north as High Point, get off and find somewhere to hide and stay there. Food will be scarce, but welcome to Earth. Zedd only feeds who he wants to feed."

Zack cringed. "I'm not running away," he told it. He stood up, shaking his head. "I've got to make my way back to the Command Center."

"Your Command Center was decimated by Zedd's army eleven years ago. There's nothing there but dust."

"Wh-." The air inside his lungs exhaled sharply. "Eleven years?"

"It's 2006," the cat's voice softened. "You smell like urine. You might want to find somewhere to wash off and change clothes as soon as possible. Your scent will attract attention."

Zack hunched over, squeezing his stomach tightly. His spiraling vision was impacting on his state of mind. "H-how," he gasped, trying to find his voice. "How do you know all of this if you're just a cat?"

It let out a small, delicate purr. "Zedd's grown fond of cats over the years…he found them to be a handy tool in the art of war."

Zack looked at it unconvinced, straightening himself up to catch glimpse in his peripheral vision of a bird dipping and gliding in the murky sky. He could have sworn it had two pairs of wings; then again, he was clearly lost in some post-apocalyptic version of Wonderland, and had already stumbled on some mutated version of the Cheshire Cat. He doubted a strange bird with four wings could make things any wilder.

"You're wasting time," the cat started up again.

"You said that everyone here serves Zedd – how do I know that you're not going to run off and tell him I'm here? How do I know you're not deliberately leading me right into a trap?"

The cat turned a circle on the spot. "I do what I can to survive, power ranger. You're walking in a different world now. Your enemies may not be who you think they are…" it slipped between his legs, grazing him with its tail. "Run and don't stop."

"What happened to everyone on Earth? All the people?"

The feeble creature seemed to almost sigh. "Almost everyone was killed eleven years ago. Those that surrendered were spared their lives to work on this very kingdom we stand in now. The other survivors…they live in limited society on the inside of a brick barricade in the ruins of Angel Grove."

Nothing was absorbing. A talking cat?

Zack shook his head dizzyingly, flinching suddenly as he heard a loud banging sound from somewhere on the other side of the tall fence. The cat scampered a few leaps away, remaining low as the alarming sound rang out into an echoing hum before being absorbed by the open sky above.

"You need to run now," was all the cat said, before it turned and bounded away, its small paws rebounding off the ground like it were made of hot coals.

"Wait!" Zack tried to call out after it, but it was swallowed from view by a storm water gutter on the opposite side of the street.

The sound of a bird flapping its wings followed with more silence. And then, another outbreak.

The banging sounded more deliberate this time around, belonging to what Zack could make out to be two heavy metal doors. He peered through the metal railings, blinking and flinching as the noise increased at a steady rate. Footsteps at an even pace. Metal stairs. The strumming of chains dragging with hasted hurry. Zack could see their legs appear from under a water tower on stilts before gradually they came into complete view, walking away from his direction.

The intricate 'Z' shifted on their broad backs with each perfectly timed step, their boots the sound of ammunition in effect. Walking side by side, guns flicked against their inside hips while chains dragged from their outer hands. Their enslaved cargo stumbled and weakly followed in their shadows, thick links of metal clunking and sending erratic shots of sound shooting into the sky.

Zack swallowed, his mouth opening but no scream progressing as he recognized one of the detainees.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Ten: Broken Blue**

Zedd lowered his face, tipping his head to gaze into the soulless cerulean eyes that masked any and all fear.

_A/N – Even I'm enjoying the frequent updates! When I make my kids breakfast, I write a few sentences while I wait for it to cook. When I'm washing dishes, I write another sentence here and there. And so on. This is the reason I've been able to update at all, as I get very little actual dedicated writing time. Thank you so much for all the feedback, I really do appreciate it and I encourage everyone where possible to leave feedback for all stories they read as it really goes a long way to help writers build and better their skills! I think the title for the next chapter is pretty indicative of who it will bring into this story…see you then!_


	11. Broken Blue

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Ten -**

**Broken Blue**

* * *

_An outside courtyard  
_

_The Zedd Kingdom_

_Old Los Angeles_

The slithering of his movement, heel to toe, always finished with the sound of a gunshot. It seemed deliberate; commanding. But Emperor Zedd was far from the clichéd galactic overlord. He didn't need to summon the respect of those who sought his undignified affection; it was written in the soundtrack of his vitals and caressed by the horror of his face. His intentions were indisputable.

It was as though everyone in his company held their breaths to allow him to take his own. He was first and foremost, a born leader.

He licked his raw lips, murmuring as he dragged the sharpness of his staff along the cobblestone ground. The heaviness of his plated feet caused them each to flinch as he pounded the length before them. He offered the occasional sneer; a gasp of patronizing condolence. How he pitied them.

The chattering of teeth captured his curiosity.

"Are you afraid?" Zedd questioned, stepping back to study the shivering culprit.

The creature stood at least six foot high, its body all bones and cartilage, sealed within a partially translucent jelly skin. Its whole frame seemed to sag; its skinny head looked disproportionate to its torso, thanks mostly to its over-sized set of teeth. Zedd could barely make out the alien's tiny eyes.

It clicked its tongue within the core of its mouth, the vibration humming out an array of varying notes.

Zedd turned his head only a little as he concentrated on the translation in his hearing aid. He relayed a tongued response, sniggering as the creature threw back a frustrated reply. The emperor was not swayed by the meek physical appearance of any of the newest immigrants; if they had been banished to Turacia then it was only logical that they'd royally pissed off someone at some point. He certainly didn't want to take any chances.

"These look right to go," Zedd conceded to his chancellor. "Tag them, enter them into the system and arrange accommodation for them through housing. Level two security."

"My Lord! My Lord!"

Zedd huffed, grunting and groaning to himself as he twisted around, his crimsoned vision locking in on Finster's erratic movement down the nearby cascading stairwell.

"My Lor-r-r-rd!"

Zedd took a step forward, slamming the arrow of his staff against the thickened ground. "You better have news on Goldar's arrival," he warned him.

Finster's hectic barreling sent him stumbling to a clumsy stop, his body falling into a messy motion of respect.

"My Lord, Goldar is ready to see you," his servant confirmed breathily.

"Good," Zedd's voice was brash, as he started for the nearest set of stairs.

"Ah-I-I-."

Zedd pulled up beside the meek creature, his normal breathing growling with frustrated venom. He waited.

"Goldar is presently outside of Sector Six-."

"Well _tell_ Goldar to present himself in our strategy room, pronto."

"Well I ah I-I I-."

The growling crawled so low, it expelled every last bit of air circulating the emperor's body.

Finster did a little dance on the spot. There was nothing amusing in his movement as his small hands circled around his canine head, his obvious despair sending his tiny spectacles falling from his snout. He fell to his knees, his hands bumbling around him blindly as he expelled tiny little hoots of fluster and nervousness.

Zedd didn't waste another moment in the presence of his servant's unraveling. His feet carried a heavy stride of intent, his side vision irrelevant to his focus straight ahead. Adrenalin stirred his pulse and he felt his chest tighten beneath his impressive mirroring armor. The rush was a high. He forgot completely that he was even breathing; that he even needed to.

He wasn't running, but the oblong structure of Sector Six streaked into a forgotten memory as he passed its furthest corner. No one stood in his way and even the walls that housed the heavy back entrance door seemed to part at his approach. The security guards that stood at attention appeared embalmed in stringent discipline. There was little time for greetings or courtesies.

"Goldar is in room Q23," was all Zedd heard as he marched down the concreted hall.

Sector Six was a storage facility for living beings rather then things. In a world where the rules were so elementary and clear, there was next to no need for 'what ifs'. Break the law and you die. Remain law abiding and you live. There were very few amongst his ever expanding population that tested the thick and heavy line. From all walks of life so many of them flocked to Zedd's glorious new world in search for survival, longevity and belonging; fleeing ruined townships and decimated planetary civilizations. Longing for food and shelter. Assurance. Leadership.

So many of them ran to the sanctuary of the one that destroyed their very homes in search for his own. Was that ill-fitting? Zedd could taste the irony but even still, he knew they all knew the truth. He was proven. Under the protection of the Zedd throne, they would be provided with endurance and all he asked in return was a little hard labor and loyalty.

Zedd pulled up rather gently, his face steadying through the marbled translucent door before him. It seamlessly slid to the side and disappeared within the wall, expelling the stiffened air of the room in its cup.

His own military commander was expecting his arrival; that much was clear, by the knowingness sparking from his ruby red eyes.

"I should have known when Finster can't even string together a basic sentence after several attempts that it could only mean one thing," Zedd murmured, strangely calmed by the scene before him.

He could hear Finster's hysterical voice fluttering from some direction down the hall and he signaled the door closed behind him with a raised gesture of his hand. His lips tightened in response to the silence. It was a confrontation with a situation he had not prepared himself for.

"They found him several hours ago just two blocks north east of the magisterial borders," Goldar's gravelly voice commentated as Zedd approached the subject seated on a lone chair. "It staggers me that he was not identified sooner and brought to your immediate attention."

Zedd lowered his face, tipping his head to gaze into the soulless cerulean eyes that masked any and all fear. He trickled his eyes down the length of his naked humanoid torso, looking away briefly in response to the man's offensive odor.

"Has he spoken?"

"He's said nothing," Goldar reported, the inbuilt lighting from above saturating his golden armor in a heavy glow. "His behavior has proven difficult during attempts to obtain information on the location of the other rangers."

Zedd glanced over his shoulder as Goldar finished responding, before he looked back at the former blue power ranger.

"So William Cranston…we meet again," Zedd droned, feeling his eyes narrow cautiously from behind his visor. He studied the boy's face. Nothing.

He merely blinked. His blue eyes trickled about in some nonsensical manner.

Zedd bended his knees, crouching before the teenage boy. He studied him closely and ran an extended nail along the base of his scrotum, waiting for his reaction. Billy wriggled uncomfortably in his chair, squirming away from the emperor's advances.

"Take him to my torture chamber," Zedd instructed calmly, tipping his head from side to side as the boy's body slowly relaxed again. "Cut out his testicles if he continues to forget how to use his mouth."

Goldar didn't say anything in return for a moment. "What if Billy isn't capable of talking even with the threat or use of harm?"

Zedd unfolded himself to standing, turning to face his oldest associate. The humanoid ape's impressive stature was only secondary to that of Zedd's.

"I want all troops dispatched and every last inch of Old L.A searched for the remaining power rangers," Zedd ignored Goldar's question. "They must be located immediately."

"Have you considered that they may have re-entered earth on the former territory of Angel Grove?"

Sharp slithers of their faces pierced his aching skull. His headache was induced by the blood bubbling through his veins and he said nothing at all as Goldar delivered his orders into a speaker strapped to his wrist.

"My assumption would be that the rangers returned to their positions prior to their banishment," the emperor began to speak out loud, his feet carrying him in a steady pace back and forth, back and forth. "The blue and black rangers were banished first not far from where we are now; the yellow and green rangers north of them. It is the red and pink rangers that I am most concerned about…" he tapped his chin to the beating of his heart.

His feet continued back and forth.

"They were banished from the center of Angel Grove. That would make it likely that they have been returned within the walls of Guarded Grove," Goldar surmised.

Zedd paused mid-step, glancing over at the shell that remained of William Cranston.

"What strikes me as unusual is the circumstances which led to this…unexpected incident…It is almost as though Space Patrol Delta deliberately led us toward Turacia's location."

Goldar straightened up in an overly obvious manner, his arrogant pride riding up a defensive notch. "I can assure you Lord Zedd that our victory against the S.P.D was well deserved."

"No one is questioning your ability Goldar," Zedd dismissed him. "What I am questioning is the S.P.D's intentions…"

Goldar's injection was roughly pushed out. "Do you think it's possible it was a deliberate suicide mission?"

"If indeed it was a suicide mission then one can only assume that Mayne somehow obtained intelligence from our end through unknown channels…it means we must presume that they are one step ahead of us now and are already in the process of attempting to locate the rangers."

Zedd returned his visual field toward the stripped and bare human boy. His size was insignificant by all standards, his muscles meekly defined and his limbs waned in comparison. Dirty blond hair angered his appearance, but his skin was paled to almost translucency with tiny blue veins rippling at their crossroads. He was a lost canvas against the brilliant white wall behind him.

Once upon a time this human was considered intellectually gifted; even brilliant. But did that mean he was a talented actor? Or was he indeed mentally decimated?

The smallest of breaths cast the sound of puffed vapor as Zedd crouched before Billy, locking all energy and focus on the buzzing and whirling in his skull. He couldn't hear anything. No thoughts, no mental scrambling. Just the faintest of white noise.

"We must locate the other rangers," Goldar harped up from somewhere behind him, evidently frustrated by Zedd's fragmented offerings.

"I want you to arrange a satellite conference between President Mayne and myself," Zedd decided. "Tell them we have the blue ranger in our possession. I will not play games."

"But my Lord, why do we continue to hold back our advances?" Goldar argued emotively. "Do you really believe that whatever Zordon had buried underground is that all mighty, that unstoppable-."

Zedd charged two exaggerated steps toward him. "I'm not willing to take the risk, Goldar!" he launched back, hissing his name like a snake. "It's only been eleven earth years. Why fuck it all up now by scrambling like a pack of pathetic human beings?" he gestured with a flick of his hand. "Allow the S.P.D the opportunity to surrender any located rangers to us. No matter how they choose to respond, they are powerless while Billy remains locked up within the walls of this kingdom!"

Goldar was unwaveringly loyal, but his thirst for the blood of victory laid thick in the dirty scowl on his face. He nodded accordingly, growling at the door as it accepted him back out to the hall and away from Zedd's view.

The emperor's hand rolled tightly into a fist by his side. He wasn't trembling, but he was shaking with the thought of his secret and the sudden realization that it no longer belonged to him alone. But how long would it take before his shattered foe realized the true power they shared with him?

Turning back to face the former blue power ranger, he flinched somewhat as he heard a misplaced patter to his right.

The slender feline form scurried toward him before it fluidly leaped toward his awaiting arms. Zedd stroked the white cat's back robotically, pausing as he watched her eyes flash a brilliant wash of emerald glow.

"I order you to cross the border into Guarded Grove…obtain any and all information about the whereabouts of Zordon's rangers and report back to me…"

The cat purred, cocking up her chin in anticipation of a scratch behind the ear.

"As you wish, my Lord," the cat obliged, brushing her whiskers against his chest.

"Good kitty," he offered as she leapt from his clutches, vanishing from sight in an explosion of radiant green light.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Eleven: Breakout Mustang**

Conner looked up from the paper in his hands. "Babe, I'm all for the bad girl angle, but haven't you listed to geek boy over there? Your ass is totally fried if the S.P.D finds you," he told her.

_A/N – Sorry for the delay with this one! I had my littlest one's 1__st__ birthday last week and it is mental how much time it takes to organize these things haha Thank you for all the reviews – I have tried to say a quick thanks to most reviewers personally in the past few weeks, for anyone I have missed or those I am unable to PM, thank you again! I have been utterly exhausted the past couple weeks and felt really disconnected writing this chapter – alas the show must go on – don't freak out if you can't make out the puzzle of the story yet, it's supposed to be gradually revealed with each chapter!_


	12. Breakout Mustang

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Eleven -**

**Breakout Mustang**

* * *

_The Ford Residence_

_Lot 2, West Road 5_

_Area 4, Guarded Grove_

Her toes wiggled.

The ligaments in her lower back drew their reins tightly as she stretched forward, tipping her head curiously as she watched her feet curl and jiggle. The black material which wrapped the lengths of her legs dipped and creased around her randomly lithe motions. Bones cracked and capitulated to her rousing. Her blood was pooling in all the wrong places.

She couldn't remember actually being alive. It was the strangest of transitions and she couldn't work out how to backtrack. She drummed several bursts of breath against her palm, her fingers wriggling like the flames of a starburst.

She was alive.

There were so many feelings all at once. Her insides felt volatile. She felt lightheaded. The exhaustion she felt was all too consuming.

Her body drifted uneasily as she slipped from the pedestal of the bed, the carpeted floor beneath a cushiony landing spot. She tried to grab her eyeballs as though to stop them from rolling back inside her head. Everything felt too ludicrous. Moisture licked at the grooves between her fingers and she automatically moved to suckle at them, before she registered the sickening smell.

Vomit.

She wanted to escape it and stumbled desperately to her feet, shooting her head from left to right, left to right, left to right, left to right. Everything was grey. How could she believe she really was standing there and yet have no comprehension of who she even was?

Eyes blinked back at her in the form of an intricately framed mirror. Lips caught the curiosity of absentminded teeth. She moved toward it, reaching out to pat it with her hand.

Chestnut hair clumped together in a tangled mess, creeping a peek from over her shoulder. The bones in her wrist creaked and cracked as she rotated it around hypnotically. She tried to catch a thought but it seemed to run away with a helpless exhale. All her thoughts were too abrupt.

The desk where her reflection rested was a stage for the forgotten. Books and too many things that seemed to have no purpose sat in little piles and clusters and she could name them all and yet couldn't work out their relationship to who she was.

_In Loving Memory of Trish Ford…August 13__th __1967 – November 29__th__ 2003…Forever in our hearts._

Her fingers brushed the paper booklet before her attention drifted to this and to that. Everything seemed coated in a sickly ashen light. A wooden jewelry box took pride of place, its lid slightly ajar and tiny pearl beads spilling out from within. She gently hoisted it open, blinking as a minute ballerina figurine began to spin from within.

Music sung along with the intricate little dancer and the girl begun to hum knowingly.

_Hush little baby don't say a word-._

A noise from below pulled her face sharply in its direction, and the lid closed heavily in her response. She scurried without direction, before finally locating a door. She clung onto it for a good minute, the numbers one to sixty coming easy enough to memory.

Her hands touched and grabbed onto everything as she drifted down a hallway, her feet messily criss-crossing in front of each other. She wasn't so much dizzy as she was abstracted; this was the passageway through a dream of sorts and she walked without focus, drifting in through a sparse archway.

Her eyelids fluttered in response; she was like Alice arriving at the tea party.

"Like, don't freak out…um have something to eat, Kim."

_Kim…_

The other girl's face was familiar to her, large eyes the basking feature of her dainty face. Her long hair snaked messily over one shoulder and she seemed utterly oblivious to her unkempt appearance as she stood up and pulled out the empty chair beside her. Her lips settled as she willed her forward once again: "It's okay, come sit."

The boy and his dark eyes acknowledged her with just as much careful curiosity.

Kimberly took staggered little steps forward before she dropped down in the empty chair, her eyes widening uncomfortably as she stared down at the bare bowl in front of her. She was forgetting again. She was forgetting what she was doing or that she was trying to even remember in the first place.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" Kimberly suddenly asked, her eyes stabbing at both of them between wisps of mindless hair

"Let me get straight to the point," the boy begun, discarding his spoon into his half-eaten bowl of cereal. "We know."

Kimberly blinked. Her jittery hand reached for the edge of the table.

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"We know you are a power ranger…it explains a bit, but there's kind of a lot I don't understand…"

Kimberly's forehead wrinkled. "What's a power ranger?"

"Forget Ethan over there," the girl beside her muttered, as she grabbed Kimberly's bowl and carelessly dumped in a pile of cereal and swig of milk. She slid it back in front of her and extended a hand, sighing away her frustration. "My name is Kira. We found you yesterday afternoon in the middle of our school's car park."

Kimberly reached out and touched the tip of the girl's hand, frozen by her delayed thinking.

_Tommy, Tommy, Tommy-._

"We've been stuck in curfew all night," Kira continued unfazed and while Kimberly was certain she was staring her way, her vision became swamped by the haze of murky thoughts. "Ethan's a computer geek who, long story short, thought you might have been an alien…ugh, I know, sounds totally stupid, but this world can be a pretty weird place and…"

Kimberly inhaled sharply, her shoulders jumping wildly as she strangled her chest with her arms and shot out of her chair. It fell away from her, surrendered in her onslaught of distress . This dream was coming into focus. Somehow and some way, it wasn't a dream at all.

The two other teenagers in the room were at her side swiftly, but their faces failed to form into the shape that was His.

Her breathing was accelerated and yet somehow labored and pronounced.

"Where's Tommy?" the sound was barely there. "Tommy; Where's Tommy?"

Kira forehead creased, before Ethan spoke up confidently.

"Tommy Oliver was the green ranger," he stated knowingly. "Remember Kira; he was the one who was evil and then he turned to the side of good."

Kira cleared her throat awkwardly. "Awesome."

Kimberly's sight was saturated, her surroundings overcome by the tide of her tears. She raised her hands before her, squeezing her eyes tight as she tried to envisage him standing right there. Right there. He was always right there.

_His hands almost held her frame together as he massaged her naked skin with his palms. She didn't need his words and couldn't understand them. Beneath the broken shelter of a curved mass of sweltering rock, he was her own sun outlined by the one that harassed them so mercilessly._

_She was always studying him. In a world where they were forgotten, he was her every recollection, her every thought and her everything._

_His breath was exhaled before her face and she inhaled it, swallowing him and holding him in. She climbed into the womb of his lap, hooking her arms under-._

"…and maybe help her sit down…she looks like she's going to puke again and personally I don't want her puking over me."

Kimberly pushed absentmindedly at the moistened towel that caressed the corner of her mouth, her cheek and then her neck. Kira lowered the facecloth and pulled a face at Ethan who was busying himself at his laptop computer.

"Will you stop typing on that thing for two seconds?" she snapped at him. "For God's sake Ethan, it's not going to matter how many notes you take if she vomits herself to death!"

Kimberly wrinkled her nose distastefully. "Ugh, that smells terrible…"

"Yeah well that smell is you," Kira muttered impatiently, before she sighed and dropped onto the cushion beside her. "You really don't remember anything do you Kim?"

Kimberly blinked, her eyes searching the very depths of the other girl's, before she finally shook her head painfully. "Where's Tommy?"

"Um…" Kira's voice trailed off, as she glanced over at Ethan shrugging.

He inhaled a giant breath, his nostrils flaring at the sides. "Everyone thought you guys were dead so…logically if you're still alive, then there's a good possibility that the other rangers are, too."

Kimberly shot up to standing, whimpering as her knees sent a sharp pain shooting up her thighs. "I have to find him," she released within a drawn breath, bending over in search for the floor. She felt as though she were walking on a tightrope. "I need to find him," she reiterated, stumbling past Ethan and knocking her shin on the coffee table as she passed it.

She didn't register the immense thundering of pain that rushed to her brain; the intense frenzy of blood vessels that burst at the surface of her skin, staining her leg in an instant bruise. Her legs bowed only a little, but everything fell away in surrender to his presence. She reached out, trembling in thirst as she leapt for the very depths of his awaiting eyes.

"Where are you going?"

Kimberly gasped as her arms crossed over, colliding with each other in a tangled mess as they failed to find him standing there. A few shattered, inaudible sounds; one last desperate glance for his ghost.

"He's not here, Kimberly…"

Kimberly's jaw vibrated the sound of bone against bone. She was hallucinating reality away.

"I n-need-d to f-find h-hi-mm."

"Kim, wait," Ethan's heavier shadow stole her focus as he hurried to her side, intercepting her lead for the front door. "You can't just leave here – I saw you fall from the sky and I am sure that the S.P.D saw it, too, which means they are probably looking for you and…"

He was still talking but all she was hearing was Tommy. Ethan's hands were attached to the outer edges of her shoulders, and yet all she felt were Tommy's fingers brushing her arms comfortingly. The African-American boy was standing so close to her that she barely had a view either side of him, however all she saw was Tommy blocking out the world around them; keeping her safe from harm. Nothing else mattered.

She was shaking her head, looking around distractedly as a strange noise reiterated Ethan's misunderstanding of her blankness.

"I think you should listen to Ethan," Kira tried to persuade her calmly, stepping up from behind him. "I know a lot of what he says sounds crazy, but some of it could be true for all we know."

Kimberly bit her lip, before she slipped past Ethan and opened the front door, instantly drawing back and stumbling awkwardly. It was a messy collision. She spat at the air, feeling it crawl up her nose and into the back of her throat. Her eyes were burning like a million paper cuts and she was pushing forwarded on pure will alone; she was blinded by her thirst for him.

Her clumsy frame was spun around a little as she felt herself rebound off someone else.

"Back so soon, Conner?" Kimberly heard Ethan comment from behind.

Kimberly was blinking heavily, still spluttering out air as she tried to peer up at the visitor blocking her path.

"I forgot my wallet," he responded, before pulling a smug face. "I'm sure Kira slipped it on me as a way to ensure she got to see me again so soon against my will."

Kira scoffed loudly. "In your dreams, _babe_," she retorted sarcastically.

The scenery around Kimberly joined to form shapes and outlines like a never-ending jigsaw. She touched the corner of a wall at her side, its surface crumbling like coarse sand beneath her misled pressure. Weeds strangled themselves at its feet, flying toward a sky that was as dead as an expelled breath. She was colorless. Was this some sort of dream?

"Can I borrow your car?"

Conner ducked his head a little, doing a little bit of everything all at once. Blinking rapidly, shaking his head blankly, scoffing and snickering in clear bewilderment. "You're kidding me, right? Like I'm gonna just let you drive off-."

She didn't realize she had asked anything or that he had even replied. She stumbled past him, focused on her disjointed decision to search for Tommy. If she found him, then surely everything would be okay, right?

"Where is she-."

"She's in danger," Ethan declared and Kimberly paused as she reached the side of his car, watching curiously as he passed a print-out to the other boy.

"I have to find Tommy," she quietly spoke up, her eyes darting about. "It might be the only way I can remember who I am…"

Conner glanced up from the paper in his hands, squinting through the murky space between them. "Babe, I'm all for the bad girl angle, but haven't you listed to geek boy over there? Your ass is totally fried if the S.P.D finds you," he told her.

"I'm going with her," Ethan boldly announced, leaving Kira's side and side-stepping Conner. "I should be able to help Kim bypass the security points and give her a better shot of getting where she needs to go. You coming Kira?"

Kimberly glanced over at the other girl, watching her lean frame fold a little into itself as though discomforted by the thought. Her eyes seemed to loop around in search for a response, before she shrugged half-heartedly. "I guess so…I mean, it's not like there's much to do around this hell hole anyway. Just let me grab my bag."

Kimberly found herself sitting in the driver's seat, her hands roaming the interior of the Mustang as the sounds of Kira and Conner arguing from nearby melted away from her focus. She stiffly pulled the door shut but flinched as Conner's face suddenly pressed against the window from the other side, his finger tapping menacingly on the glass.

"Where the hell do you guys think you're taking my car?" he asked, grabbing hold of the top of the window as it slid down at his insistence.

From the passenger seat, Ethan reached over Kimberly and through the open window to snatch the papers from Conner's hand. "To the outside," he replied matter-of-factory. "I don't think Kimberly is safe within the walls, not with the S.P.D looking for her. Kira and I kept looking into stuff all this morning after you decided to abandon us-."

Conner groaned. "How do you even know any of this dumb ass? Sure, even if the S.P.D is all secretive as shit and even if you manage to get her outside the walls, what's to say she's safer out there? For all we know there's nothing but dust and bones out there," he kept releasing numerous sounds of distaste. "And finally, if she really is a power ranger, then why the hell are we trying to save her?"

"Because she's hurt, Conner," Kira injected, sliding into the backseat with her bag in tow. "She doesn't even remember anything but Tommy Oliver, who was also a power ranger like her."

Ethan raised his eyebrows, seemingly impressed by Kira's knowledge on the subject and Conner flicked his tongue against his cheek, his impatience releasing in a long, drawn out sigh. He pulled the driver's door open and reached down for Kimberly's wrist, tugging on it gently.

"Well for God's sake, let me drive...seeing as though I'm the only one with a license here."

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Twelve: The Colorful Rebels**

Farkas emitted a snigger. "Mark my words, the wolves will pounce and kill without hesitation," his eyes darkened, catching on the sideways glimpse of a furry tail near the window.

His hand slid to his hip, before Eugene shot his hand out dismissively. "It's just a cat."

_A/N- Sorry for the delay in getting this up – as always, just insanely busy and struggling to find a balance between all areas of my life. Thank you for being so patient, I really appreciate it and you can always have faith that I'll update as soon as I am able to! This was a difficult chapter to write because, well, it's awfully challenging writing in the POV of someone who has very little memory or thought process lol So the disjointed nature of the chapter was very much done on purpose because it was in Kimberly's POV. Thank you for the reviews! You're all awesome and it's great to get feedback and to read what people think and feel from what I write! Hope this reaches everyone well - CS_


	13. The Colorful Rebels

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Twelve -**

**The Colorful Rebels**

* * *

_An old, empty convenience store_

_East Road 12_

_Area 1, Guarded Grove_

The switch clicked and Farkas shielded his eyes with a weary hand as the beams of fluorescent light coughed and spluttered their dirty glow over him.

He took a few steps inside. His boots disturbed the film of dust below, sending it showering toward the roof. It hovered like rain paused in motion, but at the very least it would still offer enough relief from the suffocation outside. He was used to the smell of burning bodies, but the torrent of rotten ash blanketing Guarded Grove since the previous day was becoming more than just an inconvenience.

He lowered the mask from his face, his eyes roving from side to side.

"Check all the windows," he suggested cautiously, as he literally sniffed in the air. He tasted it with the tip of his tongue, nodding with satisfaction. "Make sure whoever is last through double checks the seal on the door when they close it."

"Something smells fucking rancid in here," Shaun Richards stated bitterly, scratching his ginger beard before spitting on the floor. "Dead mice?"

"Without a doubt," Eugene agreed with the older man. "Not sure if we should be worried that even all the mice are dropping dead."

Farkas sniffed without reason, setting up a personal computer on a rickety side table. "Probably strays killing what they can find," he injected, as he busied himself with plugging in this and that. He held his breath as he watched the screen light up, sparing a side prayer for the generator to hold up. "They probably kill 'em and hook in and then spit them back out once they taste them. Who knows how tainted the little bastards are after running around in that storm water drain."

"I thought Erns was going to be here?" Dennis Shay pointed out. His receding hair line gave way to the folds and wrinkles of concern as he dug the base of his cane into the floor "And what about Doc?"

"Ernie's probably running late…given the curfew last night I'm sure he wasn't crash hot about leaving Darlene and Zoe at home alone," Farkas expressed, sitting back in his seat. He watched as Eugene fiddled with the lock on a window, the plastic blinds bowing and making all sorts of sounds from his effort.

His best friend snuck him a look and he held it with his own, swallowing his reluctance.

"John doesn't know about the meeting today," Farkas finally admitted, watching the other men in the room turn to stare at him in unison. Looks were exchanged; expressions furrowed. "He wasn't comfortable about us meeting so soon after the Turacia disaster."

No one ventured to speak at first and Farkas wasn't surprised by that. In the decade since they had formed their group of resistance, the Rainbow Rebellion had never taken a step without the hand of their neurotic leader, John Oliver; hadn't so much as ventured to the same street without his advice nor spoke without his breath in tow.

Even now, his ghost was whispering in all their guilty consciences.

Farkas sighed a little regretfully, motioning for his associates to take a seat; to settle. There were the usual groans and moans as knees bent and bodies gave way stubbornly. No one was spared the pain of yesterday and they had all endured too many yesterdays for him to count.

"We've obtained updated intelligence from a successful hacking attempt on Space Patrol Delta's Intranet at 4:48am this morning," Farkas began, licking his lips as he waited for a new page to load up on the computer's screen. "The intelligence confirms to a greater extent the likely attempt at a stronger agreement between the Zedd Empire and S.P.D following their failed attempt against Serpentera last night."

Dennis shuffled uncomfortably, his prosthetic leg dragging loudly along the floorboards as he drew his feet inwards. "Have we confirmed that the said intelligence is genuine in nature?"

Harvey Bower seemed to snicker, but was unable to communicate his dismay any further as it sent his lungs heaving for air. Eugene leant over and slapped the laborer on the back gently.

"The intelligence is genuine," Farkas assured them, scrolling down on the screen. "We managed to bypass their security using an internal IP and over-riding hacked login credentials with a ghost forger created by John last month. We had to wait for the right time to install the forger and had to dump it immediately after so we couldn't be traced. We assumed they would be too busy kissing Zedd's ass to be monitoring their internal communications."

"What did you guys find out?" a middle-aged man by the name of Carver asked up. He was a butcher. Go figure.

Farkas cocked his chin, motioning to his lanky friend to deliver the briefing.

"We downloaded intercepted internal mail between Mayne and Commander Brereton which referred, in specific detail, to a planned suicide mission to engage in battle with Serpentera-." One of the members stood up to interrupt, but Eugene was quick to pacify him with a gentle hand. "Let me finish," he asked, before continuing. "They discussed plans to deliberately lead Serpentera toward specific coordinates which would place them within the airspace of a tiny, dimensional planet known as Turacia."

He flicked a nod of his head to Farkas and he took over effortlessly: "They planned to lead Serpentera into dispensing a powerful fire attack which would disrupt and unsettle the energized barrier that encases Turacia. The aim being to crack the egg open…which brings us to the reports of alien beings entering Earth's atmosphere following the decimation of the S.P.D's megazord yesterday."

The enthusiasm in Eugene couldn't be housed at that point and he stood up, gesturing as he added: "The S.P.D are after the power rangers."

Carver's southern accent was loud and drawn out. "What power rangers?"

"Zordon's power rangers," Eugene responded with an uncontrollable nodding of the head, a glimmer of light catching on the crescent of his pupils. He paced the tiny space between them all, his expression grabbing hold of each and every one of them. "The S.P.D must have somehow discovered that Zedd banished Zordon's rangers to a planet where he thought they would never be able to escape. Now it's only logical that whatever took place yesterday likely released the power rangers back onto Earth."

Richie Dimitrius straightened up in his seat. He was by far the best dressed man in the room, his good looks still intact and pristine despite the hardships he'd faced in the preceding years. They had attended high school with him and he was one of those guys that never seemed to age. "Do you mean they were trying to rescue them?"

"No," Farkas was quick to respond. "We believe that S.P.D are trying to capture the rangers in order to unlock the capsule in the hope of freeing the power coins-."

His phone rang. The ten men in the room all flinched in response, but it was Farkas who let slip the knowing groan that silenced them all. He didn't even have to look at the number on the screen.

"I thought I made it very clear that a meeting so soon after yesterday's events was not advisable, Farkas…"

He sighed into the phone, scowling a little at himself.

"Whatever you do from here Farkas, please at the very least listen and follow these directions," John's voice was only slightly patronizing, but a strange sigh was attached to the end that caught Farkas' notice. "I'm on my way to the high school as we speak; I need you to cover my ass with your big boss so I can get in and out as smoothly as possible without any unwanted attention."

"Of course, of course," Farkas was thinking so many steps ahead he was stumbling as he continued. "Yeah, we can do that-." He lowered the phone abruptly. "Eugene, radio captain now," he ordered his friend, ignoring the awaiting eyes from around the room as Eugene's voice delivered off into the background.

A pause. "What's wrong Doc?"

"Ernie's been detained, Farkas."

His eyes squeezed shut, reflecting away the deep-pitted knowing. He went to curse, but it evaporated all too soon.

The veins in the top of his hand stood up as he squeezed the phone with consuming tension. "What about Darlene and Zoe-."

"The girls are fine, but they detained him along with an unidentified teenage male who apparently was located at his home by police after a tip-off. Listen to me very carefully Farkas…it was Jason Lee Scott."

So many things fell to the magnet of his tongue and his eyes – they literally bulged out of their sockets.

"Holy…fuck me Doc, that means Tommy might-."

The call was swallowed up by the tell-tale static of a line drop-out. He looked at his phone and grimaced as he noticed the absence of any reception bars, shoving it roughly into the pocket of his trousers.

"Bulk…" Eugene's eyebrows were perched up near his hair line, the large scar on his forehead crinkling with his widened expression. "What the hell is going on?"

He didn't have the time to panic.

"Doc's heading to secure the coins right as we sit here…"

Carver straightened up, tipping his brimmed hat forward between pinched fingers. "That means we're finally on, boys."

"No," Farkas forced out calmly, balling his palms against their sweaty skin. "We need to wait for Doc to give us the word. We can't risk doing anything foolish."

"How can we even initiate anything when we haven't even gone over any concrete plans?" Dennis reminded them all. "I've got Evelyn and Cassie to think about. What if the S.P.D gets desperate?"

"They wouldn't pull anything stupid," Farkas reasoned, finally leveling himself enough to look at each and every one of them. "There's still an amount of strength offered in numbers…Mayne would never sanction the pointless killing of everyone in Guarded Grove. It wouldn't make any sense, even if it spared his life, what would be the point? It wouldn't even lay a dint in Zedd's armor."

He sighed thoughtfully, bending his arms on his knees. "We all know concrete plans are a luxury not designed for this lifetime...if and when John gives the word, we know what we have to do and we do it no matter what we come up against."

"That's gonna mean a lot of frightened people fleeing with no idea why they're running," one of the others shared and they all nodded and let out random sounds of agreement in unison.

Carver removed his hat, staring intensely through its curved center. "Yeah well it's about time everyone finds out what those sons of bitches government folk have been doing all these years."

Richie took a deep breath, running a nervous hand through his raven hair. "Can someone remind me again what the plan was? I know we said we didn't have any concrete plan but can someone remind me of the plan-."

"You serious pretty boy?" Carver let out.

"You know how my memory is Carver, why did you think I can't even hold my job at the market-."

Plain and simple English: "S.P.D deliberately implemented a scheme to release the original rangers back to Earth. It's only logical that they will try to gather them all as quickly as they can; remember, they need them all to unlock the power capsule in order to release the power coins from inside. We know Zedd himself wants those coins given their power…so without a doubt, some sort of trade or agreement will be come to between the two parties. There's a risk that Zedd himself could get hold of some or all of the rangers. All out war will break out and there's no way on this Earth that any of us will survive."

"But that's where we come in," Eugene cut in, restlessly rubbing his hands together. Farkas could only shake his head at his oldest friend's inability to remain quiet for longer than a few minutes at a time. "Doc already has the coins. When the time is right, we cause an uprising and have everyone flee Guarded Grove. Zedd nor Mayne would ever expect any of us to leave the comfort of the Inside and we'd have the coins with us. We could even somehow get the rangers to safety and they could harness the power of the coins and-."

"And I think you're getting way ahead of yourself there, bud-." Farkas stopped him dead in his tracks. He swallowed. "We need to keep things in perspective. No matter what happens, there's not going to be any magical salvation for us…this isn't about saving the world anymore. It's about saving as many of us as possible…it's about giving us any chance, over no chance at all."

No one said anything. It was like that moment where you watch a movie and you know it's a movie so you know no matter what that the main characters will survive; you know no matter what that they'll have some sort of happy ending. Only Farkas knew there was no happy ending in sight for them and he knew that they all just realized that, too. Hell, it was a shitty moment. There was nothing more to be said about it, really.

"Those damn government folk are wolves," Carver muttered downheartedly.

Farkas emitted a snigger. "Mark my words, the wolves will pounce and kill without hesitation," his eyes darkened, catching on the sideways glimpse of a furry tail near the window.

His hand slid to his hip, before Eugene shot his hand out dismissively. "It's just a cat."

The air sucked in through his nostrils and he tasted the dust. The slender feline lowered its belly against floor, the pallid fur on its back standing up straight as it emitted a threatened sound.

It was frightened.

Farkas leaned back into his chair, staring up at the ceiling just waiting. Waiting for someone to break the silence. Waiting for John to call back. Waiting to wake up from the nightmare.

Waiting to no longer be stuck within the walls of fear.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Thirteen: Caught in a Parallel**

But Tommy couldn't tear himself away, the image stuck to the surface of his eyeballs and dragging him closer to them. Hundreds of them. Men, as far as the eye could reach, palms busied and bloodied as they marched monotonously, whipped into the coagulation of a slaving mass

_A/N- Good news is I got this one finished well before I'd expected I'd be able to. It was a funny chapter because I find it a little fascinating writing men who are just men, trying to be heroes and be so much more than what they're capable of. In the end, they are just human. I know it's so repetitive, but a huge thanks to everyone, old and new, who is taking the time to read this story. Hope you can continue to enjoy it. Don't forget, everything will be gradually revealed as should be the case with any (hopefully) well told story - so keep your minds open and don't jump to too many conclusions because you may just be surprised! Until next time! ~ CS_


	14. Caught in a Parallel

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Thirteen -**

**Caught in a Parallel**

* * *

_Presumably on an unmarked street_

_Old Los Angeles_

With every step they took, the scouring shadows that cleansed them of the dirtied sun became all the more consuming. The buildings, a patchwork landscape of mismatched timelines, shot like rockets into the equivocal sky while their shoulders lined endlessly side by side. Everything appeared as unnatural as the little warmth from the sporadic rays of light from above.

Tommy stopped momentarily. His calves were tensing, threatening to vice him with another painful cramp from far too much running. He pushed forward wearily.

The sun breathed on his shoulders as a rare gap between the towering architecture welcomed the murky radiance back to them. Goosebumps ate at his flesh and he privately willed it away. The sun was nothing but a haunting reminder of the intent that drove his stride and Tommy couldn't deal with it. He was too afraid to feel the anger.

He kept grabbing his face. His hands would cup at his nose and mouth but the moment he inhaled the smell of himself was enough to welcome back reality. It wasn't his smell he wanted. He was forgetting hers faster by the minute.

Trini's almond eyes couldn't mask her own ill-ease as she continued to throw him glances as they paced closely together in a broken dance. Her narrow shoulders were slumped forward and his arm was too tired to offer them any brace of support. He was having difficulties distinguishing. The best he could do was tell the difference between the light and the dark.

"All this walking is doing nothing but using up energy that we don't have," he murmured softly, reluctantly sending his crestfallen gaze her way.

She offered him a half smile of sorts, placing her hand tenderly over his own and encasing it with a gentle squeeze. "I mentioned stopping awhile ago but you…didn't seem to hear me," she admitted.

He sighed a breath, closing his eyes as he felt the escaping air leave his lungs bare and desperate for replenishment. "I'm sorry Trini, I…" He was rubbing at his eyes; trying to rub Kimberly out of them. "I can't focus."

He realized her hand was shaking. How long had she been trembling like this for?

"Tommy…"

Her face fit the cup of Tommy's hands and his fingers stretched like wings at her cheek bones.

"_You are soft."_

_Tommy looked over his shoulder, taking the image of her to the darkness that harnessed his weary eyes. Her hands touched his naked back in the oddest of ways. They wrote words that were illegible and coerced his tired muscles; they teased and tickled. They were a non-intentional escape._

_He turned gently to face her, scooping her hair into one hand and holding it high as he adjusted the sheet that exposed the top of her areolas. She was taken by the sand that lapped at her bare legs, but he wanted her to see him. He was so desperately alone without her._

"_You are soft," she commented once more, reaching out to stroke his stomach, before she reached down and scooped the sand in her hand. "This is itchy-."_

"_Kimberly," he took her hand, tipping the gritty sand back to its resting place. He was going to say something, but what could he say? She was waiting. Studying him with an entranced patience as always. "I…" he rubbed her hand within his own almost nervously. "I was-."_

_She caught him off guard, reaching forward to touch his lips with her finger tips. "Soft…"_

_He swallowed words that never came to him. "You're so beautiful…" he whispered, but she would never know it. "I'll never leave you…I hope you'll never leave me."_

_Kimberly's face moved only a nose length from his, resting her palm on the place of his heart. "Tommy…" was all she could convey._

"Tommy?"

He felt his hands peeled away and he opened his eyes. He didn't realize he had had them closed.

"Tommy, we need to find some shelter," Trini's voice coaxed him. "And you need more rest…you don't look good…"

His breathing swelled to a rate faster than the blinking of his eyes. He licked his lips, wincing as he felt their fragile flesh catch on the roughness of his tongue.

"I'm starving," he admitted numbly. "I feel like my stomach is devouring itself."

"Well I need to use the bathroom," she admitted a little abashedly. "Somehow I don't think we're going to find a Wendy's down on the corner. This road has been never ending."

Tommy sighed into his palm while hoping to catch an idea, before he felt Trini's hand lead him off to the left. He felt his legs limping without any obvious cause. It was as though he'd simply forgotten how to walk.

Trini's body shifted so she was moving sideward and Tommy followed her lead, as they slipped between the lips of two side-by-side buildings. The narrow gap caught onto his skin as he pried his way between, grimacing as he felt the porous brickwork graze and bite onto him like a set of teeth.

Like an after effect, he cursed under his breath and stretched forward as the walls opened up to reveal a nestled cove attached to a passageway. There was a dumpster. The wall to the left seemed more polished and he used it to hold him up. He noticed Trini disappear behind the large bin and saw her legs crouch down through the narrow gap beneath.

He looked away, trying to ignore his own urge to urinate. Even the thought of it seemed exhausting.

The sky was like an open wound, bleeding out the gap that was as tall and far away as Heaven was itself. It drew his attention upward, his eyes narrowing with a moment of clarity that probably wouldn't last as long as he needed it to.

"Can you hear that?" he murmured without direction. His ears had been ringing deliriously.

Trini reappeared from behind the dumpster, fussing around with the sheets that messily leeched around her body, before seemingly dusting them off. "It sounds like machinery of some sort," she commented.

Tommy nodded slightly, taking a step away from his comfort zone as though one single step would bring him closer to the elusive noise.

His friend met him half way, reaching out with her hand to brush his cheek. "You really should get some rest," she suggested. He was momentarily entranced by the sight of feathered ash sitting on the tips of her eyelashes. "I haven't heard or seen anyone for at least a few hours and that noise sounds static and in the distance. We could even rest inside the dumpster. It's empty."

"Damn it," he scrunched his face almost painfully. "I was hoping we'd find some scraps in there."

"Well we can do without food to a point, but we do really need to find some more water," she agreed, her expression riddled with worry. "But we can't afford to keep walking. Every single thing we do now is robbing our bodies of energy we don't have."

"Jason will never find us hidden away in a dumpster," Tommy reasoned calmly. "I couldn't…trust myself to sleep right now…"

Trini consolingly rubbed his arm. "You're beyond exhausted, Tommy…twice walking down that road you looked like you were literally falling asleep." She paused, her eyes falling with the sound of her voice. "I know you're afraid…but think about it. It's not a coincidence that you and I came back here together. Remember our final confrontation with Goldar and Lord Zedd? It was you and I together. And Jason was with Kim, remember? So that means there's a really good chance that Jason is with Kim now and keeping her safe."

The information took a good half a minute to get through, but as soon as it dawned on him he surrendered to the paining in his lungs. His exhalation was pitiful and he bit his lip as though to silence the silent agony.

"Thank God…" he whispered, closing his eyes in yet another surrender as he felt Trini rest her face against his chest. Her touch was the silky awakening he needed; the prayer he needed an answer for.

"Jason will keep her safe…you know he would have found her shelter and food and water…watching over her like a hawk."

She pulled back, her mouth softening as he managed to feel the side of his mouth pull upwards. "It used to…shit me to tears how he'd never…let anything go. How he'd want us to search for water and how he just…never gave up…" He swallowed, the reminder of his best friend somehow hurt even more at that moment. "I'd do anything to have him back. I feel so lost without him."

"We'll find them, Tommy…"

He rubbed at his eyes again. "I couldn't imagine resting right now not knowing where they are…we were lucky not to be seen by those soldiers earlier. What if the others weren't so lucky?"

Trini took a step back, glancing about thoughtfully. "Maybe instead of trying to find the others we should be trying to reach Zordon?"

Tommy sighed somewhat. "I wouldn't know how we could. I mean, we clearly don't have our communicators or our power coins. And even if we can find the others, you and I both know that Billy…"

Trini nodded knowingly. He didn't need to complete the sentence for her to feel the gravity of his point.

Tommy made a fist with his hand, knocking it absentmindedly against his clenched mouth. "We need to think…we need to work out what the hell we're doing."

"Well," Trini's back slid down the opposite wall, her lean legs bunching up in front of her. "We know we're in L.A…which is something that makes some sense, at least for us, because Zordon had last sent us to meet with Zedd not far out of central L.A."

Tommy was going through a withdrawal from Kimberly and couldn't process anything Trini was saying. He was terrified of the dangerous line he had crossed internally. Once upon a time he was a hero, and yet all that consumed him now was the desperate drive to be her savior. When did the world become the background? Was this some insane, deadly addiction that would drive him to forget everything he ever was?

What was once upon a time?

Trini was pacing at that point and Tommy had clearly missed a big chunk of her words. Her sable hair swung and settled at the side of her face as she paused to look at him. "…If the world really has been taken over by Zedd then we don't even know if Zordon's okay."

A grievous breath. "B-but…he has to be-."

Both faces shot to the left, both sets of eyes daggering down the abstractly shaped alleyway that seemed to go on forever. It was a sound that should have been the bullet. You should always run away from a bullet. But there was something driving Tommy that surpassed all primal fear and robbed him of his better instinct. He was running for her.

He was running the wrong way.

He heard Trini call out after him before he even realized he had left her behind. His feet were drilling through the rough and uneven pavement below, his legs carrying him in an ugly, desperate motion between walls that seemed to close and open around him. There was every possibility in the world that the soles of his feet were bleeding by then, but his toes continued to take the agonizing brunt as he kicked them mercilessly.

His ears would surely be the next to start bleeding if the intense orchestra of noise was anything to go by. As he saw the soaring walls open up ahead toward the right, Tommy stumbled to a hopeless stop, flinging his hands out to break his heavy fall.

He shakily got to his knees, staring at the flesh hanging off the palms of his hands.

"Tommy!" Trini hissed lowly, her arm dropping like deadened lead over his back. "We shouldn't be here."

The light was a new acquisition, as it filtered starkly through a wired fence that began only a few feet down the path. The sounds were enormous. Tommy could feel the volume as every echo became a pulse that rattled the earth below them.

He crawled to his feet, glancing quickly down at Trini who was obliviously clutching onto his arm. "We should check it out," he swallowed.

"No," Trini disagreed in barely a whisper as he cautiously stalked toward the fence. "This is too much of a risk…Tommy..."

But Tommy couldn't tear himself away, the slowly revealing image stuck to the surface of his eyeballs and dragging him closer to them. Hundreds of them. Men, as far as the eye could reach, palms busied and bloodied as they marched monotonously, whipped into the coagulation of a slaving mass

His lips moved to speak. All that sounded was heartbreak, confusion and then finally the fear.

"Oh my goodness," Trini breathed out, her chin trembling against his arm as they peered around the corner of the wall and through the holes in the fence.

"It's like some sort of construction site," Tommy murmured, sending bursts of anxious breath from within his agape lips. "Look at those creatures…they must be at least eight or nine feet tall. Look at the thorny spikes on their skin. They're using their tails as whips."

"It looks like they're using those men as slaves to build something," Trini added.

They both flinched as a sharp slap shot through the open quarry and Tommy crouched low, holding Trini close to him. There were too many men to count. Some pulled on chains that spun wheels. Others dug into the ground with spades and labored dirt to obviously designated areas. There was no talking, but plenty of grunting and coughing.

His attention finally pulled away as he felt Trini's face press into the hard muscle of his arm.

"I can't bear to watch…"

He quietly slipped his arm around her, gazing back out through the fence with darkened eyes. The sun was suddenly of utter irrelevance. This was like the worst of worst nightmares, and yet Tommy had suddenly woken to the fact that he couldn't wake up from it. He needed to wake up, period.

"Trini…" he turned his face, nuzzling her forehead with the cushioning of his lips. "We need to find somewhere safe to lay low…put together a plan, but we can't move any longer until we know we can take this on."

Her brown eyes were still drawn to the ground, her eyelashes tickling his own until finally she slowly straightened up to his coaxing.

Her eyes gasped open.

"Tom-."

Tommy collided into her, throwing his head over his shoulder as Trini gripped his arm and jerked him forward. She shrieked. He grunted, throwing a quick leg backward toward the fence before hurrying after his teammate.

The man on the other side of the fence let out a roaring scream, his bloodied fingers waving through the small gaps in the wire.

"Run, run, run!" Tommy was shoving Trini forward, rushing his head forward and back and forward and back and forward and back at a dizzying pace.

He could hear the sound of a bullet. And another one. He couldn't recognize any of the other sounds. He was just running. Running.

Until suddenly the ground fell from beneath them.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Fourteen: Vanished**

They were gone. They were gone.

_A/N – Hope you are still enjoying the story! Hopefully we can get to some less "vague" chapters and really get this story rocking along - so don't be alarmed, you should see things pick up some pace now that the rangers have finally woken up to reality! Hope this reaches everyone well! __ CS_


	15. Vanished

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Fourteen -**

**Vanished**

* * *

_Guarded Grove High School_

_Guarded Grove _

John Oliver stood at the start line. His eyes rested ahead as the counted down in anticipation, straightening up as he heard the heavy door close and reached blindly behind him to click the lock back over.

His hand fell back to his side. All the purpose in the world, all the horror that chased his looming fate couldn't propel him to take that first step.

Simply put, nothing could negate the harrowing agony that came with such a simple process as walking.

He double checked his keys were still in his pocket. The race had finally begun and it was one he had only imagined before now. This wouldn't kill him. It would be as easy as getting to his permanent classroom, fetching the power coins from their hiding place in the top drawer of his desk and returning to his house on West Road. It would be as easy as walking, if only walking itself were that easy.

A few steps. On the good days, his range of movement was decent enough that not many would notice the uncoordinated limp that seemed to alternate between feet without any notice. On the bad days, which this day was by certain to be one of them, John couldn't so much as stroll slowly without his feet trailing several steps behind his body. His shoulders rocked, the right one seesawing toward his other side as though levering the rest of him with nothing more than lumbering momentum.

After those few steps were taken he had to settle to a cessation of sorts. The large concrete stairwell in the center of the foyer automatically ran off with his vision, but it wasn't his sight that hushed his heavy pulse. It was the sound of his worn, archaic boots against the freshly buffed floor; the way his right foot was dragging behind him like a heavy knife against a porcelain plate. The overwhelming sense of desolation welcomed too many irrational fears that he was afraid would slow him down even more.

His fingers grazed the holster at his hip and he swaggered a little, breaking his awkward gait and relieving the scratching of his toe along the laminate. Emergency and exit lights decorated the hazy muse of loneliness that guided him along the right side of the foyer. Normally hundreds of feet would be washing him up in a tide of teenage monotony, but not today; only he was stupid enough to be sneaking through the only high school in Guarded Grove on a day like this one.

Random thoughts protected his bulging mindset as John hauled himself into a corridor off to the right; all sorts of recollections and mindless jabbering that served to occupy the barrenness of the narrow passageway. He was still heaving his shoulder heavily, slowly increasing the intensity of his motion with little conscious decision. An opaque security window passed him by, throwing out a distorted reflection of his already jig-sawed face. As though in response, he scratched the large skin graft that snaked around his neck, briefly remembering how itchy it once was. He couldn't work out what felt uglier- the hard, bubbled surface of his crooked fingers or the melted mess that was the rest of him.

Air burst out of his nose as he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate. It was senseless to even try to answer it, but he managed to moan out for no reason. Maybe in some bizarre act of telepathy. The pure nakedness of cold air swelled and stiffened his joints and he was losing his focus. He was having that feeling. That feeling where you wonder if you're the last soul left alive. The pain was almost bad enough to wish he wasn't.

His cell was still ringing, however and without a doubt it would be Farkas. He quickly ripped the phone free, sighing a little as he recognized the police officer's number flashing. There was no phone reception. Even if his associate was desperately trying to warn him of trouble coming, there was nothing left for John to do but to continue his pathetic barrage toward his classroom. All insubordination aside, he knew they were depending on him now more than ever before.

John wondered how many people had experienced the shattering emptiness when they awaken to realize that a hero may need a heart, but they also need a body to carry it. He had sworn his mind could always get him through anything. But what would happen now when Lord Zedd finally made his advances or when their own government completed some dirty deal? Would all the power in the world resting in his palm be enough to carry him forward through anything? Would his devotion to his son continue to propel him through all obstacles?

The door to his classroom was not even ten steps up ahead and John had finally reached a point where he could answer his own question.

His stride was broken. His heart was at the mercy of an old, tired man.

John's hands' spider-walked down the nearest wall, his limp tongue catching in between his stiffened jaw as he collapsed to sitting. He immediately stroked his forehead with his fingers, steadying his glasses with his other hand. This…this was what the world was depending on for salvation.

His head rested against the mismatched bricks behind him as he gazed downheartedly toward the door at the end of the hall. _Fuck the ghosts to all Hell_, he thought, shutting his eyes. But even with his eyes squeezed closed he could still hear them screaming.

"_Uh-uh-um…John Oliver?"_

_John felt the skin of his face tighten sharply at his lips as he moved them to reply: "Who's asking?"_

_He could hear all these sounds. The bandages that still blanketed his eyes had a funny smell to them, but it was the noise- Squeaking, whining, creaking, tapping, breathing, sniffing and on and on and on._

_It was only natural for him to try to look at his visitor. His head remained paralyzed._

"_My name is Bulk, um, Farkas sir," the voice was thick, but scattered. His nostrils sounded moist. "Farkas. I went to school with your son."_

"_What can I do for you Farkas?"_

"_Well I…sort of don't know, really. My friend and I only just made it to the camp…we were with a group of survivors out past Bonegilla. My parents are dead…I recognized your name on the window."_

_John didn't know what to say at that point. The bigger part of him didn't particularly care. The stronger part of him couldn't let go of his heart altogether. Afterall, who else knew loss any more than he did? All the morphine left in the world could numb his melted flesh, but it didn't put a dint into the agony that flared inside his chest._

"_I'm sorry about your parents," he whispered. The words couldn't push through enough. "We can only look to God now for comfort on whatever path he's chosen for us…"_

_Silence. There was still the white noise, but the boy had been clearly silenced by his declaration._

_After a period of time passed, again the boy spoke up: "I never went to church. My folks weren't exactly the religious type…I can't believe Tommy was a power ranger. I should have known," a thoughtful pause, "They were the best kids at our school."_

_All the bandages, from head to his toe, were arresting John and all the prayers in the world could never undo the damage that had inflicted his body. All degrees of burns had become his battle scars; the worst of them buried under layers of skin ripped from the unmarred parts of his body. He'd been told he would make a reasonable recovery._

_He's been told he was lucky._

_The moisture remained in the darkened pits of his eye sockets. "We're lucky to be here," he croaked out, his voice flattened by the swelling in his throat._

_He released a pitiful breath as he felt the tip of the straw tuck in between his lips. He took an eager sip, still sensing him hovering close above him even as he finished._

"_I know about the power coins," the boy's whispered words were the stuff of goose-bumps. "I know that you became burnt trying to retrieve them-."_

"_I retrieved them." He didn't know why he confided in the boy so easily, so unnecessarily, but he did. "No one else can know about this."_

_It was the first secret that he and Farkas Bulkmeier would share. _

"_Your secret's safe with me."_

John's eyelids' allowed in the reality. He had managed to fall asleep half way through his race.

_I have to keep going…I have to do this…I need to get to Tommy…_he reminded himself.

Momentarily rested, he awkwardly crawled up to standing, jerking himself numbly down the remainder of the track to his destination. He forced his key into the lock, welcoming the usual whining of door hinges; the certain laminate squares that complained from beneath his staggered steps. This was his home of sorts. The unsuspecting asylum for the greatest secret he could keep.

Everything in the science laboratory looked to be in place.

Until he came to stand in front of his desk. He could tell right away that something wasn't right. He pulled open the rickety top drawer, but there was little time for his own personal confirmation.

He heard the cocking of the hammer.

"They're raised," he murmured drearily, shaking his head till his vision became a bitter blur. He held his arms up above him. "I wasn't aware doing a little overtime on a government enforced holiday was of S.P.D interest."

There were six of them. They expertly revealed themselves from behind wooden benches at various points of the large classroom, their weapons directed on target.

John's eyes' dribbled around, trying to catch the red lasers that sliced in his direction.

"Don't move, Doctor Oliver," the closest one instructed him, stalking toward him from the right side of the room. "You are under arrest for conspiracy."

John glanced up and down the soldier's impressive body armor. "Did Mayne really have the resources to send six fully armed soldiers to arrest a little old man?" He could afford a slight snicker. The venom was building. "Let me make it very clear that whatever you believe I have that's of any value to your government, I do not have."

Their helmeted heads tipped and slanted ever so slightly, fixated on his disgruntled comments.

"It is not for us to debate the legitimacy of your warrant, Doctor Oliver. You will accompany us back to the Space Patrol Delta headquarters for further questioning."

At least as the solider stepped behind him and guided his hands down, John could find some sort of relief for his tiring muscles. But this wasn't at all how this part was supposed to happen. Was he really being dealt the clichéd ending? After all these years, believing he had been careful enough, had Mayne really been watching him all this time?

He swallowed sharply as he heard the handcuffs seal him off from any chances of freedom. This was a world where the bill of rights no longer had a place.

"Do I at least get to call a lawyer?" he asked them randomly, reluctantly moving at their insistence.

"Where you're going Doctor Oliver you don't need a lawyer; you need a prayer," were the last words they offered him as they moved him toward a path he hadn't prepared for.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Fifteen: Facing the Resistance**

He jack knifed his body backwards slowly, using his hands to carry his upper body up into some sort of sitting position. The intense darkness held a fog over his last thoughts until ever so slowly his tired eyes adjusted to the shadows that lurked over him from behind.

"Just stay where you are."

_A/N – A somewhat shorter chapter, but necessary all the same. Good news is the next chapter is already half way done and hopefully will be a lot more riveting! Thanks for all the reviews and comments :-) __ Hope no matter where you are in the world, that you are enjoying your day/night! ~CS~_


	16. Facing the Resistance

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Fifteen -**

**Facing the Resistance**

* * *

**_An unknown location_**

**_Old Los Angeles_**

_"Is he dead?"_

_"She isn't, her foot is moving."_

_"Well it's the guy I'm worried about. Where are their uniforms?"_

_"Well clearly they're from the outskirts."_

_"They must be shape-shifters. Check their chips-."_

_"Shh he's moving…turn off the lighter."_

Tommy's mouth was suctioned into itself, air flooding through his sinuses only to collide with a disorientated groan stretching from his throat. His nostrils folded over themselves as he failed to move his face completely free from the dead muscles of his arm.

_What happened..?_

He jack knifed his body backwards slowly, using his hands to carry his upper body up into some sort of sitting position. The intense darkness held a fog over his last thoughts until ever so slowly his tired eyes adjusted to the shadows that lurked over him from behind.

"Just stay where you are."

Tommy's head cocked a little to the left, as he tried to trace the firm, masculine voice.

He went to reply, but too much sticky saliva caught up the back of his throat like a spiderweb.

A softer voice spoke up from behind him once again. "Are you hurt-."

"Aisha! For Christ's sake, you gonna start giving the alien first aid too?"

Tommy cleared his throat, rubbing his palms free of the sandy pebbles and dirty that stung and prickled his grazed skin. "I'm not an alien," he murmured, feeling emotionally desensitized. "Where's Trini?"

Sensing the lack of genuine threat, Tommy cautiously turned around, unfolding his legs to stand and raising his arms stiffly above his head. His eyes dribbled down to where Trini's form remained sprawled on the dirtied floor and he took a step in her direction.

A bare foot from one of the three mimicked his stiffened motion but as Tommy went to speak, he noticed their eyes rebound off each other's manically.

"We mean no one any harm," Tommy tried to tell them, but it hurt and he cringed into himself, drawing his chin into his chest

Two men and one female. Skin, a silken glaze of russet, sickened with patches of flesh that looked like molasses; they were glistening. Was it rain or was it sweat? The woman was short in stature, but her legs and arms curved to the silhouette of impressive muscles matched in comparison by the men who stood at her sides. Her chest seemed sunken, her frame unnaturally masculine.

"I'll check on her," she stated to no one in particular, lowering to Trini's side. Tommy drew a breath, narrowing his eyes distrustfully as he watched her place a tender hand on his teammate's motionless arm. "Where have you two come from?"

Tommy didn't reply at first, as he stared the two men down. He lowered his arms, shivering as he felt them pain at their release.

He ignored her question. "What is this place?" He instead asked, unnerved by the vulnerability he was feeling. Darkness encased him from both sides and he could only guess that they were standing in some sort of tunnel. "We have no ability to threaten anyone here."

"You're in an underground drainage sewer," one of the men responded, crossing his arms back over his chest. His dark eyes were hard to reach through the obscurity that distanced them. "Why were you running the street up there?"

Trini started to cough and Tommy forgo the moment, moving to her side to catch her fall with a paradox. Her arms were flailing, desperate for flight and he caught her, hushing her with a gentle blow between his lips.

"You're okay," he promised his friend, brushing the dirt from her bare arms. He noticed the sheet at her body slip from the quiet mound of her breast and his eyes darted awkwardly; he snaked a weary glance over his shoulder as he blindly lifted it up. "We fell into a sewer below…"

He stood up, extending his hand down to help her up. "Will they follow us?" Tommy wondered, turning around to face the three strangers.

"They shouldn't," the woman replied, her thick lips tucking momentarily between her teeth. "It gets common for the men to call out like that at times…normally at stray cats or dogs, but the Drivers are ordered to shoot the moment someone leaves their station."

Tommy's eyes' tapered to narrowed slits. "Who are you? Why are you down here?"

The three of them shared an exchange of dubious glances.

One of the men took a step toward them, his olive skin shimmering with beads of sweat. "My name is Adam," he told them, extending a hand out toward them. His eyes pierced through them intensely and Tommy reluctantly shook it. "This is Rocky and Aisha. We're human."

Tommy ran an absentminded hand to the back of his head, squinting as he felt the moisture; he studied his hand up close, scrunching his nose as he noticed the smudges of fresh blood. He heard them whisper; an exchange of some ambiguous nature, but he couldn't find it in him to make it out. Trini was several steps delayed, but clearly not as much as he.

"My name is Trini and this is my friend, Tommy," she softly introduced, her hand tenderly holding on to his arm as though to keep him steadied. "We have nothing with us but the sheets that are on our bodies. We haven't eaten and have had very little water since we got here-."

A tiny flame shot between them and Tommy felt Trini flinch in response. He didn't see it. His eyes were somewhere toward the ground but he quickly caught its reflection shattered amongst and lighting up scattered puddles at their feet.

He leveled his face, watching as the one introduced as Rocky walked around his associates for what looked to be a gap in the wall behind them. "Well I hope for your sakes, you didn't drink any of the water off the street," he stated dryly, glancing back over his shoulder toward them. "We have little reserves as it is; especially not enough to treat severe gastroenteritis."

Aisha's mouth pulled to the side, her large eyes even more bulbous in the glow offered by the lighter in Adam's hand. "We can offer them what we have, Rocky," she impatiently chided him, shaking her head a little. "We ate already."

"They need water," Adam murmured, his eyes remaining unmoved. "Look at the color of their tongues."

Rocky side stepped them with two unusual looking canteens hanging from his left hand. "Well," his spare hand reached into his pocket. Tommy was too slow to process. "They can have whatever we have," his hand pulled back out of his pocket, "once I know for sure they are who we think they are-."

His hand struck out instantly, ripping the cloth from Tommy's waist before succinctly curving and yanking the sheet concealing Trini's thin frame. Rocky's effort spun him around entirely before he turned back to face them, discarding the soiled fabrics to his feet.

Trini's arms instantly moved for her bare chest, before she rebounded them toward her upper thighs, positioning herself behind Tommy as he moved in front of her. The green ranger breathed out lowly, his mouth twisting bitterly as he stared at Rocky one on one.

And something just snapped.

Tommy's battered feet scaled the damp air, his left one finding just enough leverage for him to launch his right one, intercepting Rocky at the side of his waist. The man responded in natural instinct, but his physical dominance was momentarily at the mercy of every ounce of madness Tommy was harnessing.

The collision was without a brace, as he moved his hands to the stranger's eyes. Tommy was surely howling, or it was just the voices in his head screaming at him to wake the fuck up. His fingers curled in an attempt to gouge at his eyes as movement from behind him slipped them to his mouth and he ripped and chiseled at the corners of Rocky's lips'. He tipped his head back, leveraging it to throw back at the other man's face before he finally registered the rope constricting around his throat.

Tommy's Adam's Apple swelled painfully against the cutting pressure until he could no longer unleash his outburst on his remaining oxygen. His eyeballs bulged out of his skull as he quickly found himself disorientated, chasing floating shapes in his vision as he started to cough violently. He was still howling; the pain was roaring from within his bruised throat, erupting for whoever could hear it until eventually it ran out of fruition and his mind collapsed.

"_I'm telling you bro…if anything ever happened to prevent me from fulfilling my ranger duties, then I would want you to be standing in my place always."_

_Tommy couldn't look Jason in the eye. The basketball hypnotically turned within the two axis points that were his fingers._

_He shook his head. He was delayed and the rush was one he was felt too self-conscious about. "Nuh Jase, I mean, I could never do what you've done-."_

_Jason's laugh was deep and in utter disagreement. "The only problem you have Tommy, is that you don't see how much you have to offer-."_

Suddenly it was raining. Tommy walked the evanescent passage between dreams and nightmares before coming to the fact that it wasn't the rain falling, but condensation, saliva and whatever else the darkness was keeping at bay.

The woman with her soft lips stared down at him patiently, her eyes the light from the shadows. "Can you stand up?"

Tommy's eyes blinked mechanically. All he wanted to do was surrender. But relinquish to what?

He clasped her hand and accepted her help.

"Sit down," Aisha directed him, motioning to a clearing on a thick metal pipe where Trini was sitting. "You need to keep sipping as much water as you can keep down, okay?"

Tommy nodded numbly, limping over to where his teammate was waiting for him in a shivering heap. Her feet were lifted off the ground, hidden beneath the tent of a large blanket that housed her shoulders. Her hands were also absent, but their movement was not lost, even in the dim light from nearby; A tremble of her teeth. She was rocking and he could hear her whispering her prayers.

He swallowed, his lips falling loosely as he dropped beside her and wrapped his arms around her body.

The side of his head pillowed against hers as he glanced toward the men seated across from them. The flicker of the tiny lighter was the only thing stopping them all from succumbing to the nebulous of the tunnel; without it, the world may as well of no longer existed.

"We know who you guys are," Aisha started, sitting down beside Adam. "I actually played against Trini's volleyball team in the semi-finals in my freshman year."

Tommy wasn't following.

Aisha's solid calves protruded from the length of her shins as she dragged her feet closer to her. "The three of us went to Stone Canyon High. We saw you at all the local martial arts demonstrations…we know you guys were the power rangers."

Ironically, it wasn't as bizarre for Tommy to hear someone say that to him as he once upon a time imagined.

"After you guys vanished, Lord Zedd took control of the world…billions of people were lost. If he didn't kill them in his air strikes the poisonous dust and starvation caught up soon enough," Adam's eyes were as still as his breathing. "We're the only population who survived and Zedd enslaved us to build his kingdom here on Earth. Everyone said you guys were murdered by him."

Rocky's eyes traveled the ground between them before he lifted his chin. The bone of his cheek framed the viscous reminder of Tommy's inebriated outburst. "But we knew better," he injected in a husky voice.

"We were with a group of survivors who took refuge in your hidden command center-."

Trini's head flicked away from Tommy's, and he carefully unpeeled his arms and rested his hand on her leg. "Where's Zordon?" she whispered and Tommy wondered if she'd spoken loud enough for them to hear her.

Adam pursed his lips slightly. "I don't know who Zordon is, sorry…"

"Look, I think it's pretty obvious neither of you are in any shape for a deep and meaningful," Aisha took over, gesturing for Tommy to take another sip from his canteen. "You guys need as much rest as you can. You look like hell."

Tommy released a breath that could have turned into a light snicker had the circumstances been different. "We were in hell," he murmured, before he took another swig from the bottle in his hands. The water stung the flesh of his mouth with every gulp and yet it was utter ecstasy all the same. "But there's more of us out there and we need to find them."

Aisha shook her head. "You guys cannot go back up there," she closed him down. "You're at ground zero here. It's not even safe down here, but you should be able to get another few hours rest before they start pumping out the water through here."

"We can't just sit here-."

"Yeah, and what are you going to do little boy?" Rocky spoke up. "Your temper tantrums and drunken passing out isn't exactly going to make you friends with the locals-."

"Okay Rocky, curve the insults," Adam reasoned collectedly, gesturing with calming hands.

"I don't have time to fucking babysit these kids," Rocky snapped, as he shot up to his feet and stormed off into the heart of darkness, cursing and kicking metal along the way.

Aisha sighed rolling her eyes in a single, lengthened rotation. "I'll go after him," she muttered, standing up. She smiled tightly toward Tommy, before she disappeared off after her friend.

Adam stood up but remained slightly hunched over, making his way over to the two teenagers. He settled at Tommy's feet, moving his fingers to check Trini's flagging pulse as she drunkenly snored on the green ranger's shoulder.

"Don't mind Rocky," he apologized quietly. "No one has been down here but us for as long as we know…Aisha and I heard you running and calling above and opened the hole. You were the last people we were expecting to find."

"Have you heard or seen any of the others?" Tommy asked, slurring his words just a touch.

Adam shook his head regretfully. "The streets are always empty at this time except for all the stray cats and dogs. I don't know if you got as far as the construction site up the lane, but they've had us building yet another small vehicle storage center for Zedd's military command."

Tommy's head rested against the slimy brickwork behind him. "Why would Zedd be so w-worried about strengthening his military…" his sentence ran off into nothing. A figurative brick wall.

"I don't know," Adam admitted.

Saliva pooled in Tommy's mouth, trickling out the edge of his lips. "I'm s-sorry for attacking your friend-."

"Don't," the man dismissed him softly. "You're severely dehydrated. Your friend here is so listless that I don't even know how the two of you managed to walk, let alone run up there."

"I've got to find Kimberly," was all Tommy could say to the darkness that was slowly sneaking up on him.

"Just get some sleep while you can…I'll look out for you both as long as I can…it'll be okay…"

Not even her memory, as stark as the diminutive flame from Adam's lighter, could keep Tommy with the living.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Sixteen: Mute Torture**

"Unless he's bleeding, I don't want to hear it, Goldar," Zedd held up his hand, holding his face toward his shoulder. "I want to see his blood on your hands."

_A/N – Thank you, thank you, thank you! More to be revealed, explained, blah blah etc etc so don't freak out or worry! Don't be harsh on me for the lazy author notes, my sentiment is real, my time is just too restricted hehe! I'm flying these chapters out on very little time, so hopefully I can keep it going. Till next time! ~CS~_


	17. Mute Torture

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Sixteen -**

**Mute Torture**

_His Majesty's Regal Quarters_

_The Zedd Kingdom_

_Old Los Angeles_

The static bled like a gaping wound for a moment, before it coagulated and washed out the screen in a blanket of white noise. His finger stroked the arm rest of his throne before his nail massaged it ever so pointedly, bouncing up and down several times as the blizzard of interference shuffled once more and the image of an aging man wallowed before him.

President Mayne was choking himself, tugging agitatedly at the collar of his shirt before he cleared his throat bluntly.

"Why don't you get a glass of water, President Mayne," Zedd suggested belittlingly, settling back in his chair. "Please accept our sincerest apologies for the interference in our transmission."

He watched the human leader fumble a glass by his side, guzzling the liquid with not so much desperation per say as desperation to stall the conference. Mayne lowered the cup back down, before he shuddered, realigning his glasses to the bridge of his nose.

"The interference is only a minor indication of the severe decline in the basic standards of livability here on earth. Surely you, Lord Zedd, see no further worth in prolonging your stay here on our planet."

Zedd would have raised his eyebrows tiredly, but void of the features to do so he simply remained still, not even blinking as he heard the door to his chambers open and close.

"Earth is useless to you Lord Zedd," Mayne continued. "We have been weakened beyond chance of revival."

The padded sound of cat's feet stirred Zedd to shift as he relaxed his arms and caught the animal in his lap. His left hand lowered almost fondly to stroke the cat's dirty length of furry spine.

"_They have Jason Scott,"_ Zedd heard the unspoken thoughts magnify from his loyal pet.

The president was still talking. As much as Zedd's arrogance crooned to the sounds of his enemy milking his ego, it somehow lost its appeal when they were losing their edge.

He tilted forward. "Let me interrupt if I may, President Mayne," the emperor spoke up, continuing before the human had a chance to object. "It has been eleven earth years that I have waited patiently to leave you in peace; but let's put desperate dealings aside and focus on the remaining fact. Whatever is under the ground of Angel Grove that is repelling my empire away will hold our kingdom in place until we can secure it."

"I will not be fooled, Zedd. We know all too well that your fancy kingdom is just an avaricious cover-up. You're using it to strategically re-fuel and strengthen your empire with the intention to move on and strike out against other galactic communities and planets."

Zedd couldn't register the cool touch of his pet's coat beneath the thick covering of his armored hands. He must have lived over thousand earth years, and yet he wondered what it was like for the man that sat before him. Skin that bled so easily; emotions that controlled even the most logical of notions. How long had eleven short years really been for the lagging human leader? It was obvious that it had been too long as Zedd recalled the once vibrant self-elected president…

_He was all of six foot tall. The poisoned sun fanned his meager shadow before his feet, but in a single defining step Zedd was able to devour it with his own. His impressive presence was enough to consume the human man's entire surrendering planet in his blazing silhouette._

_Zedd tested the invisible line that had become sewn between the two men. With another step, he felt the intense pulsation ripple from his foot through the core of his legs, igniting into a roaring agony that tore through every vein and nerve. His brain rattled like soggy jelly, before he was sent flying backward into the arms of his trusted officers. _

_The wires in his head were racing like a radio scurrying through frequencies for a station. It wouldn't kill him, but it sure as hell hurt like all fuck._

_The alien leader was on his feet before he'd resumed all hearing. "You should be thanking your pathetic human God for your very life," he grunted in a gravelly growl. "Whatever energy field you have encased yourselves in will be extinguished soon enough."_

"_You can stand there and insult our God as long as you want, but you aliens will never find a way to pierce through the blinding protection of all that is good and worthwhile."_

_Zedd heard his words. It sounded as though his skull was sitting in a bowl of water. "Not even your God is a match for me, pathetic human."_

_The man's dark hair reflected the freckling of grays. "It is not our God that you should be cursing – it is Zordon."_

_Whatever spine he had cracked as Zedd rolled his neck. Was this meek, middle-aged human being really hiding behind the lingering protection of one of Zedd's own eternal foes? _

"_What do you mean, Zordon?" Goldar's whining impatience cast out from behind him. "We decimated his meager command center along with him!"_

"_Zordon clearly protected this place from your sickening infiltration…make whatever advances you want. You may have thought you had us all killed or at your surrender, but Angel Grove is not begging for your mercy. We are guarded here."_

_Zedd exhaled. He forced his mind through its burnt out innards, smelling the rotting flesh. It would all heal soon enough, but he still couldn't grip onto the other man's thoughts. How dare this human flaunt such sovereignty under the wing of an alien being? _

"_Mark my words…this is war."_

"Indeed…" he whispered to himself, before he jerked to the sudden sound of the cat expelling a lowly whine. He lessened the pressure of his unaware grip, coaxing it off his lap. "It seems to me President Mayne that you are trying to bargain with me…if I remember correctly you so…valiantly informed my empire that you were not interested in bargaining with us."

The human's posture was held upright, an invisible string pulling and releasing on him with every crestfallen breath. "We have little food stores to last much past the end of this month…with the heavy influx of pollutant ash, crop viability has fallen to an all time low. Our hospital cannot keep up with the intake of patients suffering from debilitating respiratory conditions and a host of contagions."

Zedd stroked the side of his mask thoughtfully. "So am I to understand that your precious Zordon hasn't been supplying you with an endless source of canned foods?" he snickered, smothering his patronizing as he tapped his fingers against his mouth plate. "We survive here quite comfortably, President Mayne. The corpses of your species provide us with just enough nourishment to feast daily."

Mayne's face glassed over. His eyeballs were rattling.

The alien empire made his next move. "I don't need to bargain with you, Mayne…you don't have anything to give me."

"I know you're well aware that Zordon's rangers' have been released from Turacia. Once we obtain Jason Scott, Tommy Oliver, Zachary Taylor, Trini Kwan, Billy Cranston and Kimberly Hart we will have access to enough power to obliterate you sick motherfuckers from the face of this planet."

Zedd's mutilated human form twisted insanely beneath the cold, reflective still lines of his helmet.

"Remember my promise to you that day, human…this is war."

He ran his hand sharply before the crimson projection pouring from his viewing field and killed the conference. The white cat sat placidly a few feet away, licking at its paw as its bright, emerald eyes waited knowingly.

Zedd rose to his feet and lashed out his heavy-set arm in a swinging motion, aiming for nothing but a target he couldn't make contact with. His feet moved in the scattered fall-out, directing him toward his balcony that only just caught him standing.

In his head, he was screaming. This wasn't war. Zedd had been victorious in hundreds of battles, and yet what was this fury of silence he'd been forced into for the past eleven years? There was nothing to kill and nothing to take. He had simply been sitting and waiting. Waiting. He wasn't a fool – an imbecile couldn't claim half the galaxy as he had twenty times over. The taste of blood was like air to him. But why was he still waiting?

_I know you're still out there Zordon…no matter how long you try to protect your humans I will not leave until this war has run its course…_

An unobtrusive purr lapped at his feet as his pet twisted and fondled at the base of his legs. It was a gentle warning that someone had entered his chambers and walked right into the storm.

"Unless he's bleeding, I don't want to hear it, Goldar," Zedd held up his hand, holding his face toward his shoulder. "I want to see his blood on your hands."

Goldar's voice projected from a buffered distance. "My Lord, we have tortured the blue ranger relentlessly to no reward…"

Zedd turned from the glorious outlook from his balustrade, tilting his jaw up somewhat as he noticed the bloodied saliva that laced the outer edge of the titan's chin. His silence hinted for details.

"I bit off his fingers myself," his loyal server elaborated, running a finger off his tongue. "He's said nothing." Goldar shook his head, his eyes dead to an unmarked distance. "I don't believe he can help us. He was far too broken before we found him."

Zedd squeezed his staff between his thickened grip. "Bring him to me…"

He closed his eyes, every breath and every swelling vein echoing within the confines of himself. Zedd was a thundering heart, stirring stomach and aching muscles within a costume of sorts; he was once far too broken, and yet he had been restored. The exchange of mortality for immortality had not been a choice of his own. Yet here he was.

He didn't care about life or death. It was as though he were beyond such considerations. But did that leave him compromised even still? Did the stubborn yearning of a human to survive outmatch pure eternity?

_I should have just killed them when I had the chance…_

As Goldar reappeared before him, he released the blue ranger's flaccid body to the floor like an afterthought. Zedd took a simple step. He was feeling flustered and it was dangerous.

The teenage boy's massacred hands were still attached by tendons and bone that were almost visible from the outside.

"Leave us, Goldar…"

A pause. The heavily armored warrior longed for more blood.

"As you wish, emperor."

Zedd waited for the silence to beckon for his approach, before he crouched down at Billy's motionless side and rolled him onto his back. His arms dragged like tangled cord, painting his naked torso with the messy rouge draining from his hands.

"Blue ranger, I know you can hear me…you would think the pain would cancel out everything else but it only…makes everything else more painful…wouldn't you agree?"

The blue ranger groaned but it seemed misdirected and randomly laid out, leading into a series of jagged little breaths.

"Tell me what I want to know about Zordon and I can ease your suffering."

No words. His eyes blinked to the heavens, salt water leaching from the swollen bags of his lids with every agonizing breath. Zedd hovered inches above his pallid expression.

"Did you think you died, Billy? Did you think you died and somehow went to Heaven? Or Hell…Now it would be nice if fate was so kind, wouldn't it?" he lowered his face so his spoken breath was enough to tickle the fair hairs on the boy's lip line. "It will only get worse from here…no one knows that more than I."

Zedd blanketed his vision with darkness as he focused intently on Billy's thoughts. The static was still scrambled chaos.

"Pl-l—s s," Billy's eyes took turns in closing.

The alien emperor nestled the curve of his face in the cup of the boy's shoulder as a million buried thoughts struggled to find their clarity. Zedd heard the names of the blue ranger's team mates. His family. The titles of books and objects. Numbers. Facts. The agony of unquenched thirst. Headaches.

The alien leader pulled back slowly, the smell of human blood a scent he couldn't swallow. The blue ranger's eyes' were cast upwards, staring blankly through the white light of near death that surrounded him.

_Was this what it was like?_ Zedd wondered to himself as he watched the boy die right before him. _Was this what it was like to be at the mercy of mortality?_

The clock stirred for several hours as Zedd remained unmoved, before the sudden motion from below shot through the darkness.

He placed a firm hand to Billy's chest and exhaled with a thoughtful hum. "Just as I thought," he murmured, as he witnessed the dead eyes of his enemy reignite with life.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Seventeen: Worthy Keepers**

Rocky sliced the chipped blade precisely against the heavy edge. "She needs to lose her hair," he stated, gesturing casually with the knife. "It all needs to come off."

_A/N – Thanks for everyone's patience :) Life got a bit scary and crazy for awhile there, but I think I'm in a place to get back on the train again. Hope this one wasn't too much of a sleeper. It is really hard trying to develop something with so much…substance! Haha. To every reader and reviewer, thank you :). Chanelle._


	18. Worthy Keepers

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Seventeen -**

**Worthy Keepers**

_**An unknown location**_

_**Underground**_

_**Old Los Angeles**_

Once upon a time, there was a war which started off like any other.

They say you never forget what you were doing the moment something big happened which changed the world. Aisha certainly didn't forget where she had been at that exact moment eleven years ago, but the memory itself was something almost vapid now – as vague as de-ja-vu and as distant as the recollection of a dream. She had been walking along the side of the road when the bombs started falling. Only an hour later, she had been clutching her young neighbor's hand as they all saw His face on television for the first time. That was the precise instant life ended on Earth. That was the start of the war and the beginning of existence as she knew it now.

Aisha had fled that moment with her neighbor's hand clasped in hers and had dragged her behind her for several blocks. Out of nowhere she'd howled out wrenchingly as she'd felt the heat of an explosion incinerate her lungs but all she could manage was to run and shriek and moan in tears. She never let go of the tiny hand in hers, but eventually when she could look back Aisha realized all she'd been dragging behind her for several minutes was her neighbor's seared arm. It had become detached from her body somehow and Aisha wanted to let it go, but she couldn't. Her own melted skin was glued to it like deformed candle wax.

The war itself lasted all of several days and weeks. All the givens flew out the window as the air raids increased in intensity and duration over a single week. There were no power rangers. No police. No ambulances. No army. The initial government response was all a giant smokescreen. If you were special enough you were offered refuge in an elite covert bunker. If you were just a regular nobody, you were offered fuck all and whatever else fate had written in the stars.

By the second month, the war was over along with any hopes for a fractured fairy tale. The war ended eleven years ago and yet all Aisha had been consumed with for the passing decade was plans to start another war.

All she had been existing for was to end existence.

"God I need something," she whispered to herself pointlessly. She didn't care what it was; all she needed was something other than the same recollections from the past or the plans for the future that she felt would never be realized.

Aisha squinted sharply as she pulled away a loose piece of flesh from the side of her foot. She inhaled the throbbing, feeling it inflate her insides long enough to counter the eternal dying of her stomach. She was having one of those moments. One of those instants where she couldn't remember what she was doing beyond whatever she was feeling.

Chronic starvation.

Skin crawling and flaking.

Feet so constantly damp they itched as much as they pained.

Claustrophobic.

Constipated.

Tired to tears.

Her despair was like venom and she tried to spit it out. She struggled to stir up enough saliva to moisten her tongue, glancing regretfully through the impeding darkness of their underground hideout.

"No water left," Adam noted, as he carefully pulled their canteen from Tommy's sleeping clutches. The teenage boy didn't even move beyond his head slumping forward from unbalanced weight.

Aisha delayed a half-sighed. "We're going to have to just eat tonight," she reasoned with her messy thoughts, willing away the vision. "I know we just ate but I can't go another day. It hurts so bad…"

Her dearest friend stood up from his crouched position, nodding knowingly; with relief. In moments like these, he was usually the only one who could see through the unjustness of an empty soul. "It's been fifteen days since our last proper feed. You were excited to see these two, I know it…you just wanted to help them. They would have died without our water or had they resorted to eating and drinking off the street…"

Aisha tried to lift her expression, but her sudden mental turn-around and regret at giving the two teenagers their remaining clean water was doing bad things to her perspective.

Zedd's apocalypse had marked the end of humanity. Whoever remained had turned to scour for vermin so permeated with noxious contaminates that there was very little choice between a slow and painful death by starvation or a slow and painful death by feverish disease. They'd all made their choices numerous times, but nothing ever seemed so straight forward. It could almost kill her heart to recognize just how little life really needed to continue on; it almost killed her many times more when she couldn't just give up on trying to survive.

Admittedly, Aisha hadn't eaten a sewer rat or one of those mutilated cross bred dogs or cats since she was first marched into Old Los Angeles all those years ago. At that time, she had thought that was as low as human beings could possibly stoop just to prevail through torturous hell. Boy was she wrong…the flashback of an even lower low haunted the burning back of her throat even now…

"_Press your lips together."_

_Aisha's eyes' pierced through the level of his chest, their intensity dying off as the taste started to fuck with her conscience._

"_It tastes like chicken," a man with greasy, angry hair mentioned from nearby, although the comment wasn't made to her._

_Rocky touched her lips with the ends of his fingers, but she swore she could smell it on them and she shook her head away, squeezing her eyes shut. She could sense him shuffle closer for her and she pushed her hand out as a useless barricade._

_She went to speak but the foul madness was burying her teeth and bandaging her tongue._

_Aisha squeezed her eyes closed so harshly that she heard her brain rush in the drums of her ears. A tear or two slipped to her cheek before streaming to her trembling jaw._

"_I c-can't," she barely murmured, the distorted whisper catching as she almost gagged._

_She felt Adam's hand pinch carefully at her nose and for a moment she forgot a lot of things. She forgot the messy make-over her only remaining friends performed on her to sell her to the alien empire as a man; she forgot whatever it was that had possessed them to surrender to Lord Zedd merely four months earlier; and then finally she forgot that she had a soul – that once upon a time she had been a human being and would never in a million years have contemplated the unthinkable._

_She swallowed, feeling her heart sink to the pit of her burning stomach along with the tasteless meat._

"_Good work, 'Sha," Rocky whispered, nodding softly her way. "There was no way around-."_

"_I don't want to talk about it," she told them lowly, dragging her knees up to her unnaturally flattened chest. _

_And with everything inside of her, she tried not to scream at the thought of when the bodies all ran out and they'd undoubtedly start eating each other-._

"What's on your mind?"

Aisha pursed her lips, pushing them to one side as she felt her throat clench at the unsavory memory. She swallowed, rolling her shoulders several times as she straightened her back.

"I was thinking about the first time we ate…"

Adam's face embodied a gentle calm that no other face could match and he willed it to her knowingly. "It doesn't make it any easier, Aisha, but survival cannibalism happened a lot more in modern day western society than people would like to admit. No one turns to it until it's a last resort-."

His sentence fell broken to the unnerving slicing of a blade against a blade and Rocky lulled out from the distant darkness, his attention cast to the ground. "In some situations, people drew straws. Whoever drew the shortest straw was killed – whoever drew the second shortest was the killer-."

Aisha held her hand up, not bothering to shun her distaste for such conversation. "Great, I think I'd rather just get the shortest straw," she injected.

Rocky stopped not far from Adam, standing on one foot while he holstered the other on a concrete slab at calf height. "Don't lie, Aisha," his words pushed her, as he lowered one of the knives into a concealed slit in his belt.

She shook her head. "It's not a lie. I couldn't kill someone just for the purpose of surviving longer myself."

"I could," Rocky was quick to counter. "And it's stupid to even say you wouldn't. It's not reality."

Aisha knew better than to argue with her friend over such controversies, but it didn't mean she couldn't register the irony. Really, reality? What was even realistic about their reality anymore?

"Remember when we started eating our shoes…" Adam spoke up quietly, clearly honing in on the distant memory. They all hummed knowingly, before Rocky managed to snicker:

"See; sometimes you have to make the hard decisions."

"I wish I had a pair of shoes now," Aisha shared, stretching her legs out a little. Tears raced to the surface of her eyeballs as all the sores on her feet seemed to knife her at once; unfortunately, she momentarily forgot their two visitors were so close by and her erratic movement bumped Trini by accident.

The Asian girl stirred suddenly, as though a gust of wind roused her from a coma. Words tumbled out of her lips, but they were intangible, ending up spluttering into a mumbling mess.

Hands' crawled desperately at her companion's arm as Aisha sighed regretfully at her panic. "I didn't mean to startle you," she apologized, knowing the value of any decent length of uninterrupted rest.

Rocky moved from his post, tossing his other knife into a discrete pocket in the wall as he shook his head. "They need to wake up," he corrected. "We need to get back up."

Tommy wasn't quite so quick to awaken and only managed a glassy stare Rocky's way. "What do you mean 'back up'?" he asked meekly.

"Like I mentioned to you earlier, they periodically pump and flush out excess water from above through this pipe. We keep a clock down here and monitor the time," Aisha explained to them. "You'll have to come with us…you'll drown if you stay down here."

She watched Tommy pull his lithe torso up, his dark hair messying the peaks of his shoulders. He rubbed his hands over his face. "We need to find our friends," he reminded them, his husky voice deeper and carrying a steady edge that Aisha hadn't heard from him previously. "We…appreciate the help that you've given us, really…"

The green ranger's teammate nodded beside him in agreement, her almond eyes still shining from too many tears shed within her sleep.

Adam shook his head. "The two of you won't survive on the streets-."

"Then neither will our friends if we don't find them," Tommy cut him off, licking his lips absentmindedly. "Two of our friends suffered substantial head injuries…neither of them can barely remember their own names let alone have the capacity to take care of themselves. I can't risk Zedd capturing them." His eyes swallowed them all desperately. "He'd kill them…" he breathed out hauntingly.

Aisha's face fell somewhat, as she shared a heartfelt glance with Adam before looking back at the two teenagers poignantly. "We know what it's like to survive off fear, everyone here has had to do it at some point. But if everyone lived in fear, then no one would survive in the end. No one would be able to move…" she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her lap as she gestured with her hands emotionally. "It took a long time for me to really learn this, but sometimes you have to make the hard decisions. I'm sure you both know that better than we ever could."

Tommy's breath sounded with the slow motion of his defeated glance. Aisha watched Trini slide a consoling hand to his back, moving her arm in circles over the flaring muscles along his spine.

It seemed to reinvigorate him just enough. "We'll come with you," he confirmed, clasping his hands before him. "But you need to tell us what exactly we're going up to."

"A sports stadium," Rocky responded, the sound of his voice commanding them all to gaze up to him. "We all stay in a sports stadium. There's zero human comforts other than a shower once every few weeks if we're lucky. No toilet facilities. Water and food are limited. First up first served. Lord Zedd's not a fool…he knows that humans don't need a lot to survive."

Aisha watched Adam move for their secret hiding spot nearby, pulling free some handmade bandages and other bits and pieces. He threw one of the bandages to Aisha and she caught it, watching the flame from the lighter in his hand quiver with the motion.

"Let me bandage the gash on your arm," Aisha offered Tommy quietly, as she approached him with light steps. "It's not a lot, but it might give you some protection from infection. Conditions up above are…"

"Deplorable," Adam finished her sentence from nearby, the light blanketing them in an amber fog.

"How often do you guys sneak down here like this?" Tommy asked, before he grimaced sharply.

Aisha cringed apologetically, as she continued to wrap the gash on his arm. Only the slightest amount of blood oozed through the thin fabric as she continued.

"We come here whenever the chance presents itself," Adam replied almost casually. "We store objects down here we can't keep up there. Get some sleep. Talk in private."

"If you can escape like this…why do you keep going back?" Trini questioned, washing off her feet in the dismal stream of smelly water that lapped at them.

"Commitment," Rocky stated, failing to elaborate.

Aisha squinted as she peered through the fallible glow to secure the end of the bandage. "We could never just abandon the people like that," Aisha finally replied, settling her hands on her hips as she quickly inspected Tommy. "At the beginning, we simply didn't know enough and we knew we'd never survive out there…but now it's a lot more than that."

Rocky removed the knife from his belt, clenching it with a tense fist. "We're planning an active rebellion."

The declaration had always been enough to stir the hair on Aisha's body to standing.

Silence devoured many stiffened seconds. "For real?" Tommy finally asked softly.

Adam nodded quickly. "This can't go on forever."

"We need to prepare them quickly to go up." Rocky sliced the chipped blade precisely against the heavy edge of the wall. "She needs to lose her hair," he stated, gesturing casually with the knife. "It all needs to come off."

Aisha watched Trini quickly slide her hands up to secure around the bottom of her jet black locks.

"Why do you need to cut her hair?" Tommy took a step forward, extending a hand out in front of her.

"Because no one can know she's a woman…" Aisha lifted her heavily soiled shirt up over her head, holding her shoulders back as she motioned for Adam to move the light closer to her. "We keep my chest bound. My hair above my shoulders. And I never pee sitting down or squatting."

Tommy frowned, his face contorting with a lack of understanding; with an obvious suspicion that they hadn't told him the whole story.

Aisha pulled her vile shirt back on. "Her life depends on it," she added, knowing that it wasn't the right time to elaborate any further.

"There's no other option," Rocky softly spoke up. "We can't keep her safe any other way."

Aisha watched the two teenagers communicate with an inaudible intimacy that was all the more masked from the rest of them by the meager light. They exchanged whispers that were barely whispers, but it was their eyes which spoke even louder.

They didn't look at all like the superheroes the world had been mourning for all those years ago and that terrified the living hell out of Aisha. Laying her eyes on them for the first time she could have sworn that fate had finally delivered to them the lucky piece they needed to really fight for true survival. To finally get up off their knees and put an end to senseless existence.

No one was getting saved today, that much was clear. The only thing Aisha knew with any certainty was that this really was their last chance. She knew she couldn't keep making that choice to survive any other way.

"I'll cut off her hair," Tommy spoke up and Aisha was surprised as Rocky reluctantly handed his knife to the younger man. "We'll do whatever it takes."

Aisha tried to look reassuringly at Trini, before she grabbed her stomach as a sharp pain reminded her of what their two newest allies were about to face. She didn't know what hell and atrocities the power rangers had come from, but she knew nothing could have possibly prepared them for the arena they were about to enter.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Eighteen: Little Gas equals Big Trouble**

In the rear view mirror, Conner's stony expression twisted. "Go ahead; we already have vomit. Maybe if we're lucky enough and this ash cloud gets any darker, geek boy here might end up shitting himself in fright, too."

_A/N – It's been longer than I had ever anticipated in-between updates, but I feel really happy that I've had this opportunity to be myself a bit and get this chapter out on paper. The good news is, the following chapter is already half written and the even better news is come the new year, my life will hopefully regain a normality I can barely remember. There's still quite a while to go in this story…it's been a little slow but I guess to tell a good story you have to tell it properly! Next chapter takes us back to Kimberly and the DT teens. Hope you all are keeping well :-) ~Chanelle_


	19. Little Gas equals Big Trouble

**Eleven**

By Chanelle Summer

**- Chapter Eighteen -**

**Little Gas equals Big Trouble**

**_An Unknown Location_**

**_Presumably on The Outside_**

**_Somewhere on the outskirts of Old L.A_**

The road traveled wasn't so much of a path to Hell as it was a blinded rush guided by pure adrenalin. An impulsive decision. An idea that seemed good at the time. There were no speed limits nor was there a compass to rationalize such an ambiguous destination. They were encased; stolen from reality. As the scars from the ending of the world blurred them away, Kira could do nothing more than grip onto the armrest at her side and hold on for dear life.

She swished the same oxygen around her mouth that she'd been holding there for too long. It escaped between her parched lips and she licked them sourly, pulling a face as she reluctantly inhaled again.

Splatters of Ethan's vomit remained in too many places. There was no radio. No oxygen. Not to mention, the aggressive terrain sent Conner's mustang jumping so violently that Kira was beyond certain she'd close to peed herself.

What the hell had she been thinking?

_Oh God,_ she lifted her limp hand to her lips, willing away the sickly sour taste stalking up her throat.

"Please tell me you can see something," Kira tried not to whine, grunting as a rough bump sent her shouldering Kimberly beside her. She didn't have the will to apologize, but glanced her way all the same, before sinking back in her seat. "Just kill me now," she muttered to herself.

"I'm hungry," Kimberly reminded them for what seemed like the several hundredth time.

Kira shook her head for no particular reason, glancing out toward the window. "I don't know how you can even think of food with that disgusting foul smell."

From the passenger seat, Ethan's body remained pointed forward. "Do you really need to remind everyone every two seconds?"

She rolled her eyes tiredly, clenching at her bladder as the road sent the car shaking from side to side. "Okay, look, I really need to pee," she spoke up, leaning forward. Her hair tickled the side of Conner's ear. "I'm not joking."

"We can't stop again."

"I need to use the bathroom. If I don't, I will pee all over your car seat."

In the rear view mirror, Conner's stony expression twisted. "Go ahead; we already have vomit. Maybe if we're lucky enough and this ash cloud gets any darker, geek boy here might end up shitting himself in fright, too."

Ethan's head rolled around in annoyance, picking his body up from its previously slumped position. "Will you shut your trap Conner and work out where the hell you are driving us exactly?"

Conner shook his dirty blond hair, licking his lips overtly. A snicker. Kira almost groaned in anticipation of his typical sarcastic retaliation.

Instead he near laughed. "This is a fucking joke," he muttered, swerving the car bluntly to the right before quickly correcting its path. "Whose fucking genius idea was this?"

Kira didn't handle confrontation very well. It was something similar to a wall being layered all around her and yet she still couldn't hide away. Her chest was tightening. She didn't have _time_ to register whatever anyone was carrying on about. Old habits had never died…Kira was still that little girl, running up to her room unable to deal with her father's chronic grief over her mother's loss.

_Kira blinked and paused around the corner, the frosted glass in her hand trembling in her anxious little grip. She just didn't want to drop and spill it. No matter what, she didn't want to do that to her father._

_The talking in the living room was still in gross continuation. To and fro, words spilled in the same drawn anger.  
_

_She was dreading interrupting it. "Daddy...I made you a glass of drink," she announced quietly, as she stepped out from behind the shield of the wall._

_She just didn't want to spill it everywhere, but she couldn't help her frantic actions. Not when all she wanted to do was run away._

_Glass on the table. The gesture utterly unnoticed in the shadows of his head in his hands._

_The words snaked their way from his lips, in a two-way conversation with himself. He blamed himself. He hated himself. She was dead and had been for over four years and yet it was as though it had just happened the day before hand. His tears were still as fresh._

_Kira backed away and fled, ignoring the watery juice that splashed at the back of her legs as she ran desperately in search of somewhere to hide.  
_

"Just breathe," she whispered, breaking off the menacing memory with the humming of a wordless song. She didn't know the tune, but she sang it. The sounds of music had always been her own source of oxygen.

And like a child in the present, the girl beside her whispered nervously into her ear: "Where are we going?"

Kira's random droning was lost to her break in concentration. Realizing that the bickering up the front had not yet lost ammunition, Kira turned to look at Kimberly and tried to offer her something…anything.

"We're…just a little lost at the moment," she admitted quietly, squinting heavily as she realized she was losing her own battle with her bladder. "You don't have anything to worry about. Everything will be fine."

The sounds of rocks and carnage stirred against the outside shell of the car.

"Are you hurt?"

Kira squirmed. "No…I just need to pee really bad."

Kimberly blinked, her lips falling loose slightly as she studied her with big eyes. "Oh…"

"How's your head feel?" Kira decided to change the subject. "The cut looks…way better," she noted.

She watched the teenage girl reach up to touch the somewhat faded laceration on her forehead, her fingers skimming over it as though she were reading braille.

"I had hurt my head," Kimberly murmured, her voice treading off into some dreamy distance.

Kira crossed her arms over herself. "Do you remember it happening?" she asked her quietly.

The expression lines on Kimberly's face darkened as her eyes narrowed intently. "I don't know," she shook her head in slow motion. "I didn't think I would see Tommy again…"

"Yeah, well I wish your prince charming would show up right about now," Conner muttered, catching a glance with Kira via the review mirror. "Either way, this ash cloud or whatever the hell it is seems to be clearing up a little."

Kira pulled herself up in her seat, momentarily forgetting everything and anything else. "Can you see anything?"

"Maybe…" Ethan sounded distracted, his hands clasped around bits of paper and the tip of his nose pressed against the windscreen. "I swore I saw a building."

"All I can see is rubble," Conner followed up.

Kira sat forward, pressing her face against the window to her side. The glass kissed her face coldly, biting at the bone of her cheek as the car continued its unsteady pace over whatever path was shouldering them. Her eyelashes dusted the window; her lips pushed out another reluctant breath which ignited the glass in a fury of fog.

It blinded her view and her shoulders sunk slightly, until another's hand reached over and wiped the fresh condensation away, revealing the unfolding surroundings to them both.

Kira's eyes widened avidly. "I see buildings," she murmured to no one in particular. "Lots of them."

For a minute they all forgot about the vomit, motion sickness and overwhelming urge to urinate.

"Quick Ethan look at your maps and see if you can work out where we are," Conner ordered, his concentration drifting about, unfortunately taking the car all over the place with it.

Ethan's voice sounded like a big frown. "How am I supposed to tell from a few trashed buildings where we are by looking at a map?"

"You're the one who said you could guide us with your geek technology."

From the opening spaces between the ash fall, soft cotton clouds peeked through, captivating Kira's entranced gaze to the outside.

"No, I never said I could guide us once we got out here," Ethan corrected in the background. "I said I could get us through the SPD checkpoints."

The ending of Ethan's sentence caught Kira's misplaced focus and she straightened her body, leaning forward so her face poked out between the two boys. "Maybe we should pull over somewhere," she suggested quickly. "We don't know if it's even safe for us to be driving here."

"Well that wouldn't make much sense. I'd rather us keep driving then have to walk. That ash cloud doesn't look like it makes for very good breathing quality," Conner reasoned.

"At least you've stopped calling it snow," Ethan chided him sarcastically and Kira rolled her eyes at their pathetic to and fro.

Conner dropped his right hand to his knee, slapping it lightly. "So how exactly are we supposed to find these power rangers or whoever?"

Ethan twisted around in his seat. It launched his face too close to Kira's for her liking so she pulled back, crossing her arms back over her body as he eyed Kimberly expressively.

"Can you sense anything, Kim?" He asked her and Conner snickered quickly.

Kimberly looked to Kira as though searching for support and she shrugged indifferently. "Ignore Conner, it's a waste of time making fun of things when here we are, driving around lost like a bunch of idiots-."

"Oh no…"

Ethan looked over to Conner and Kira pulled a face toward the front mirror.

"Wha-."

"Fuck!" Conner's hands' slammed against the steering wheel as he whip-lashed his head forward in senseless despair before propelling his body back against his seat. "We're almost out of gas!" he gestured wildly.

Ethan's face was pure seriousness. "But what about your spare supply in the trunk?"

Conner pulled a face to himself, before he propped his elbow on the edge of the door and leaned his face into his lazy hand. "I forgot to fill up," his response was muffled.

Kira didn't know what to think or how to react.

Ethan's lips' puckered up but Kira could tell he wasn't game to test tense waters. "Sooo….guess that means Kira's idea of walking wasn't that stupid after all."

Conner sighed. "Yeah ha-ha," he conceded sarcastically, before his words ran off into illiterate mumbling.

Kira slumped back against her seat, her body perfectly frozen as Ethan started to talk again. "What if there's zombies out there?" he wondered out loud.

"Shouldn't we be more worried about…aliens?" Kira pointed out, scrunching up her nose. The sickening smell had not budged.

Conner's face was scanning in slow motion from left to right, right to left, over and over again. "They'd have to be some pretty desperate aliens to still be living in this hell hole," he murmured, before he honked the car horn without warning.

Kimberly jumped and Kira flinched, swallowing her embarrassment with a limp hand of comfort to the pink ranger's arm.

"That was a cat or some sort of big dog or some shit," Conner explained. "Maybe a sewer rat."

"I think it was a cat," Ethan agreed from beside him, before he hummed a little, "Hmmm it did have a really long tail."

Kira couldn't settle the cheeks of her butt to the seat. Her hands absentmindedly settled to the groove of her thighs, but it was just a God-awful reminder that she'd semi-peed herself moments earlier and she quickly brushed them away. She ignored the heavy stress that resonated from Conner's reflection up ahead and looked back out her window.

The murky haze had finally been broken by the clarity of a whole new world. Conner and Ethan both started half hooting and choking on their own shock horror; but it was Kira herself who blindly un-clicked her seat-belt and clumsily crouched on her seat as though to grasp the greatest view.

"People actually live here?" Kira exclaimed, her face stretching into an ugly exclamation, as buildings, however worn, started to pass them by at an increasing rate. "That's a car that went down there!"

Conner was licking his lips and Kira could hear it. "I don't understand why they've never mentioned anything to us about this – why wouldn't they tell us?"

Ethan made a strange sound. "Obviously it's a cover-up, just like I told you guys."

"A cover-up for wha-."

The car engine started to spit and as it lulled into a splutter, the whole vehicle rocked like a broken see-saw to a miserable stop. Conner pulled the hand brake on quickly and threw his face over his shoulder as soft puffs of dust mushroomed around them outside.

"End of the line," he announced, as he bit down sharp on his lip and Kira shared an anxious look with Kimberly.

"So…" Kira squinted. "What are we supposed to do? We can't stay here."

"Well…clearly I'm going to have to go and find some gas," Conner declared, nodding his head as though convincing himself.

"You can't just go alone," Ethan told him, as he busily checked the vents of the car for the twentieth time.

Conner pulled a face. "We can't just sit here in the middle of the road. My parents are going to fucking flip as it is. Who knows how long it's taken for us to get this far?"

Kira glanced down at her digital watch knowingly, the tiny little display deadened to black.

Ethan's mouth puckered up. "We don't even know what's out here-."

"You're the one who thought this would be such a great idea," Conner reminded him, rolling his eyes. "And in either case, I'm not sticking around."

Kira looked back out of the window. Through the settling dust, she could see three shadowed figures across the road. Old, haggard clothes hugged their backs and stringy hair kept their faces from her sight, but it was unmistakable.

Humans were indeed alive on The Outside.

"Look…" Kimberly motioned with a tiny voice and Conner and Ethan followed her outstretched hand to where Kira had been looking.

Conner released an intrepid breath. "I'm going to ask them where to fill up. Wait here; do not let anyone touch my car," he ordered them as he opened the door and hopped out, slamming it behind him.

Ethan fanned the airspace before him, before he yawned. "I don't get why he has to be such an idiot about everything. He's not proving how smart he is wandering out there alone; he's showing just how stupid he is."

Kira nodded in agreement as she practically snorted. "We should have kicked him out miles ago. It's a miracle we're still alive with his horrible driving."

They all watched their school mate approach the huddled humans in the close distance. His shoes stirred the dust and ash like strewn confetti, but everything else around them remained entirely unmoved. The strangers seemed to ignore him at first; Kira saw one of their heads turn just a bit, as though their ears pricked up.

The stranger's cheek continued to twist around, the flesh of their profile scaled like the fanning tail of a peacock.

"Oh my God," Kira rushed out, as her open hands grasped for the window at her side. "They're not-."

"Holy shit they're mutants!" Ethan exclaimed, as he simultaneously undid his seat-belt and messily clambered over to Conner's empty seat. "Conner!" he called out.

"Conner!" Kira joined in, banging her curled up fists against the glass. "Conner!"

The hammering of hands and calling out seemed to fall on deaf ears; the sound of an unmanned door opening and slamming shut did not.

Kira swung her head around but it was too late. Kimberly was already running in the opposite direction, before out of nowhere they watched her crumple to the ground.

**-To Be Continued-**

**Coming up in Chapter Nineteen: The Devil you Know**

"We should run…"

John blinked, closing and opening the blinds to his vision of the perplexed leader.

"Run?"

"We should run. Every last one of us. Break down the walls and advance on the outside in a flood of rebellion so strong in current, it might just give us the chance we need to survive, even just a little longer."

_A/N – Bring on the silly season :-) Thanks for everyone's patience with my updates while I enter the final phase of renovating our house! ~Chanelle_


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