I couldn't help it! This muse has been incessantly begging me to do this one. I tried to be strong. Honest. I told her, No! We have to many stories in the works to add another one. But she wouldn't listen! And to make matters worse, she can't even come up with a title! AAARRRGGGHHH!

Well so much for me being strong.

This story takes place in the year 2003. TS by BS did not happen. Also I think someone threw out a challenge to write a Y2K story? If so this is my answer to said challenge, because the storyline occurs partially because of Y2K.

Warnings: I have two story lines for this, and I can't decide which. In one there will be rape, in the other there isn't. In both however, there is character deaths(not Jim or Blair), violence, strong language, discussion of rape, blood and gore and will therefore be rated NC-17. Which is why I am not sending this to Sentinelangst list or Senfic. They would kick me off. LOL

Don't be surprised if it takes me awhile to finish this. I will continue to work on ALL my stories, and hopefully finish each one. Hey, its not like I'm the only one who has a great number of unfinished stories being posted to this list.

Okay, okay enough of my rambling. You can wake up now if you haven't already hit the back button. LOL On with the story!

By Stormwolf Dawn

That is no country for old men. The young
in one another's arms, birds in the trees
-Those dying generations-at their song
The salmon-falls, the mackeral-crowded seas
Fish, flesh or fowl commend all summer long
Whatever is begotten, born and dies.
Caught in that sensual music all neglect
Monuments of unaging intellect.
-William Butler Yeats

Blair Sandburg peered out the barred windows of his dormitory prison watching as the slave crews returned to the Rainier Compound for the evening. Tear tracks marred the youthful face framed by chestnut curls, and unshed tears tears brightened his beautiful blue eyes.

He watched as Pinkerton's men used whips and batons from horseback to keep the slave line moving as they trudged through the now open gates of the Rainier Compound from where John Nathaniel Pinkerton had built his Empire. Dusk and distance kept Blair from seeing individual faces, but his imagination supplied them with the faces he knew would be down there. That tall man could easily be Simon, back bent from exhaustion. The man being whipped by one of Pinkerton's mounted men could easily be Rafe. Any of the others could wear the face of Henri Brown, or Daryl Banks.

With a heavy heart he thought of the names of the people he knew were not down there. Megan Conner. Too much strength and pride. She had violently refused the future that most women had found themselves thrust into, and had died a violent death. Rhonda had died in that future. Pinkerton's men had taken what they wanted, and each one had his own heirem of women. Rhonda had died giving birth to the son of her rapist.

Angrily, Blair flung the curtain he held back over the barred window and turned to look at his guilded cage. His eyes swept over the dorm room with its one single bed, and bathroom. The dresser and mirror. But always his eyes strayed to the pedestal in the center of the room with its glass box sitting securely on top. The glass box with its heavy padlock so Bair could not raid the contents of the box. the contents which even after months of having it in the room with him made him shiver in fear.

John Pinkerton, a mad genius, who had for the ten years before the turn of the millenium had began gathering his followers, and had engineered his own computer virus that he unleashed at the height of Y2K. John Pinkerton, who now held all of Washington state and most of the surrounding states in his thrall. John Pinkerton, a man with millions of followers, and his own army, had placed that box in Blair's room, and had laughed when he did so.

Blair felt hot tears splash down his face, and he thought desperatly as if his thoughts could reach the one he sought, *Run Jim. Run far away from this mad place.*

PART TWO

Blair turned his gaze from the glass box, refusing to even acknowledge its presence. Night was falling, and exhaustion was seeping into him. He looked at his bed, and shuddered. Sleep frightened him. With sleep came the dreams. Dreams that he knew in his heart were the observation of real events. Tears threatened to spill again, and Blair shook his head, and headed into the bathroom.

Splashing cold water on his face, Blair lifted his head and looked upon his reflection in the mirror. His face was pale from lack of sun, cheeks hollow, eyes haunted. The dreams haunted him, and yet they gave him hope, too.

When he was done in the bathroom, Blair stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, and slipped into his bed. He snuggled deep into his nest of blankets, and closed his eyes, a silent prayer forming on his lips.

(Begin dream sequence)

He was a wolf. He knew that the moment he opened his eyes to gaze at the forest around him. He was always a wolf. No jungle surrounded him, only forest. Snow fell around him, and his paws sunk into the snow on the ground. He shook his coat, then threw back his head to give a mournful howl.

The howl echoed through the mountains, but there was no reply from any other wolves, nor did he expect one. Breaking into a trot, Blair searched for what he knew would be here. *this is real....oh god please let it be real.* His only hope was that it was real, and yet he feared such a reality.

It didn't take long for Blair to find what he sought. The smell of woodsmoke led him there. The wolf loped into the makeshift camp, unseen by the camp's sole occupant even though the wolf stood across the fire from him.

If wolves could shed tears, Blair would be crying. Across the fire, Jim Ellison knelt in the snow. Wearing cold weather trousers over his jeans, a down lined jacket over his layers of sweater and shirts, Jim knelt before the fire as he cut the small deer carcass into sections of meat that he skewered onto a sharpened stick. What looked to Blair like tubers, and roots were also skewered onto the stick. When JIm had filled the stick, he placed it over the fire to cook, then continued to cut the meat from the carcass.

Blair studied Jim. The Sentinel was leaner, having lost weight from his exile, but his body was still firm with muscle. Like Blair, his cheeks were hollow, and his eyes were haunted.

Blair knew his sentinel probably had his senses dialed high to warn of anything that came close. After all, the sentinel was a hunted man.

Blair hoped that he was seeing true events. Because if they were then Jim Ellison, Sentinel of the Great City, was still alive, and remained uncaught.

A wolf's howl echoed through the mountain, but Jim didn't even look up, and Blair knew that the wolf like him was not entirely part of this world.

Blair saw the white wolf through the trees, and he knew that his time there was up.

Wishing he could nuzzle Jim, Blair turned and followed the white wolf into the forest.

(End Dream Sequence)

Blair awoke, and felt the morning sun fall upon his face. After having left the strange dream plane, Blair had fallen into a deep restful sleep.

Blair looked around his room, trying to see if anyone had come in while he had been asleep.

His eyes fell upon the glass case. Inside was a chain dog collar, with an open padlock through one of the ending links. Blair had seen the padlock up close. A plate had been welded onto the bottom, covering the keyhole. Once the padlock was closed, it was locked forever. Blair shuddered as he remembered John Pinkerton's promise.

"I will lock that around his throat, Blair.' John Pinkerton said with an evil smile that did not touch his eyes. "The sentinel will be mine. My dog, and he will obey me. Or you will suffer." Then he had laughed, and left the room leaving the glass cage secured upon the pedestal.

*Stay away, Jim.* Blair thought as tears fell down his face again, *Stay far away.*

PART THREE

Simon Banks lifted his head from where he was hunched over picking up rubble when he heard the sound of hoofbeats on the road. Wiping sweat from his brow, he covertly watched one of Pinkerton's men ride by on his red sorrel gelding, whip in hand. Simon picked up a large piece of building rubble and passed it to the man behind him, who passed it on down the line, until the last man placed it in a cart where four men were harnessed to it. For the past few years, slave crews had been cleaning up the rubble that had once been the large buildings in Cascade. Now all that were left were the individual homes, warehouses near the Sound, and all the buildings at Rainier University. There was still rubble to be cleared away. Other work crews were tearing up highways and streets. The rubble was being used to help build a defensive wall that several other slave crews were building on the outskirts of Cascade.

When the slavemaster called for lunch break, the slave crews set down their tools, and trudged over to the area that had been set up for them. The all seated themselves on the cold hard ground, while several slaves, too young, or to weak to be on a work crew, passed out johnny sacks to each of the slaves on the work crew.

Inside the johnny sacks were three peanut butter sandwiches, an apple, and a bottle of water.

The slaves ate quickly, knowing the slavemasters would be sending them back to work rather quickly.

Simon had seated himself by Rafe, and Henri. Rafe was silent, as always. The man hadn't spoken in almost two years. Henri kept a worried eye on his partner as he ate. They had all lost weight, but they were fed enough to keep them alive and able to work. Pinkerton was no fool. The man did not overwork his slaves to the point of exhaustion, and death. Nor did he starve them. But just about anything else was tolerated, as long as the slaves weren't killed or maimed to uselessness. Rafe was proof of that. So far Simon and Henri had yet to be chosen out by any of the slavemasters or Pinkerton's men for their extracurricular activities. Rafe was chosen nearly every night.

But it wasn't being raped that had caused Rafe to become silent. His silence had been brought about by watching Megan Conner die. The proud Aussie had refused to be taken as a mistress by one of Pinkerton's men. She had fought the man, and had killed him. Her old comrades had watched her die a slow torturous death on the flogging pole unable to save her.

Pinkerton had also watched. Perched on his Fresian stallion, Pinkerton had yawned into his hand as if bored. Beside him on a grey mare, wrists tied, head bowed, and tears streaming down his pale face had been Blair Sandburg. Conner had taken four days to die.

Shuddering, Simon stood up at the call that lunch was over. He tossed his bag into the waste can, then went back to work.

When night fell, the slave crews were marched back into the Rainier campus. Inside the huge gymnasium, the slaves laid down on their pallets. Several of the slavemasters walked through the arena, reaching down and grabbing slaves to warm their beds for the night. Simon wasn't surprised when Rafe was taken.

When the bed slaves were chosen for the night, the slavemasters left, locking the doors behind them. Simon laid on his pallet, and as he drifted to sleep, his mind drifted to the past.

(start flashback)

Simon struggled weakly up the stairs. The airborne virus created by the madman John Pinkerton had left an entire population weak and sick. So far only a few deaths had been reported, at least so far as could be reported. Y2K, and John's computer virus had left the nation, perhaps even the world helpless. Everything had fallen apart. Radio transmissions were the only communication, but only those that weren't controlled by computers.

Stopping to catch his breath, Simon leaned over. When he had rested enough, Simon continued his climb, knowing that he had to make it.

Before he could knock, the door was opened by Jim Ellison. Simon's friend, and one of his detectives. The man looked tired, no doubt from helping his ailing partner. Simon looked at Ellison. The man was a sentinel. Blair had explained to Simon many times that Jim was vulnerable to everything because of his senses. To Simon it was ironic that the Sentinel would be the only one immune to the virus. It had shocked Blair, and the kid was the expert on sentinels.

"Simon. What are you doing here. You should be resting." One good thing about the virus was that it had also struck down the criminals.

"John Pinkerton has taken over Rainier University."

"What's going on." The weak voice came from Blair, who was leaning against his door frame.

"Chief, you need to get back in bed."

"No, this concerns me too.' Blair said. "Simon, why are you here."

"An informant came to me. He was in the last stages of the virus, and so was able to get around a bit more. John Pinkerton found your notes, Sandburg. My informant says that he's looking for you and Jim. But mostly for Jim. I'm afraid to know why." Simon said.

Blair turned paler, "Oh, God. Jim you have to get out of here."

"You can't leave, Blair. Your still to sick. Your only in the thrid stage." Jim said as he tried to help his friend and partner back into bed.

"No, not us. You. I would just slow you down. Jim you have to leave. Pinkerton would use you to hurt others. You have to get out of here. Please, Jim."

"I can't leave you, Chief." Jim said hurt that Blair would push him away.

"No. You have to."

In the end, the sentinel did as his guide ordered. Leaving Blair in Simon's hands, Jim had packed up for cold weather camping, and left. A few minutes after Jim left, Pinkerton's men busted down the door. Blair was taken to Rainier, as was Simon. John gave them both the cure for the virus. Then Pinkerton asked Blair were his sentinel was.

"He's gone. YOu'll never find." Blair said with satisfaction in his voice.

"Oh, yes, I will. I will find him, and he will be mine." Pinkerton had said.

The man's voice had given Simon chills.

(end flashback)

Simon drifted to sleep, his last thoughts were, *Stay away, Jim. stay far away.*

PART FOUR

Jim Ellison lay in the stagnant water inside a sewer drain. Through the bars of the opening, he used his enhanced sight to watch the slaves work. He had only been in Cascade now for three days. Hiding, always hiding, in the sewers, trying to keep his sense of smell down, trying not to be caught.

The sentinel did not flinch when a bedraggled rat climbed onto his back, and shook itself of the water dampening its fur. Instead, his attention was focused on the slaves clearing the rubble from what had once been the place he had lived. Not more than twenty feet from him worked Simon Banks. Beside him was Rafe, who was taking the rubble pieces from the big ex-captain.

Tears formed in Jim's blue eyes. Guilt welled up in him. He had taken off from Cascade. He had left his friends to their fate. Jim's guilt had finally forced him to come back to Cascade.

The rat leaped from his back when Jim's ears caught the sound of someone moving through the water behind him.

"Jim?" A small voice questioned.

Jim turned his head slightly to see the little boy no older than ten moving silently through the water to reach Jim's side.

"Momma says this water's bad." The boy said.

"She's right." Jim said.

"Why are you lying in it?" The boy asked.

"I am watching my friends, Aaron." The sentinel answered.

"Momma says dinner is ready. She sent me to find you." Aaron said after a moment of silence.

Jim nodded, and together they made their way from the drain pipe to the open area of the underground sewers. When Jim had come back to Cascade, he had done so under the cover of darkness. He had then hidden in the maze of sewers than ran beneath the city. There he had found refugees hidden in the sewers. Half-starved refugees living off rats, and what they could steal. Which wasn't much. And some would be thieves had been caught by Pinkerton's men. They had been whipped, then hung from Rainier's walls, still alive, awaiting death. Jim had gathered the refugees, his own 'tribe', and had done the thieving for them. Only at night, though. Jim's face was to well known among Pinkerton's men. and there was no telling which one of the slaves would willingly give Jim up for a chance of freedom. They fared better now that Jim was with them, and the sentinel was reluctant to abandon them.

Jim and Aaron came to the area were the refugges had set up their camp. The place was deep withing the labrynth of the sewers, and had several exits should it become neccesary. Aaron's 'mother' a sixteen year old girl who had taken in some 'strays' and had protected them as best as she could, was cooking some stew made from meat that Jim had stolen from a house belonging to one of Pinkerton's men. The other strays, all eleven of them were gathered around with their bowls. They're ages ranged from five to fifteen.

Their 'mama' looked up at Jim's and Aaron's approach. She smiled.

"Smells good, Elisa." Jim said.

"Thanks Jim." Elisa said.

They sat down and ate the food, no one speaking. When they were done, Elisa and Jim tucked the children into their pallets, and Elisa told them a bedtime story about a wardrobe, and a magic land. The children listened, falling asleep to the sound of their 'mama's' voice.

Jim watched them as Elisa told her story. The girl made a great mother. As his mind drifted, Jim thought about how he was going to rescue his guide from Pinkerton's clutches. As well as his friends from the slave crews. And stay uncaught in the process.

PART FIVE

Sandburg sat quietly in the saddle of the pale dun gelding and wished he dared to close his eyes. Beside his horse was Pinkerton's Fresian stallion with Pinkerton sitting smugly in the worn leather saddle, one hand gripping the reins, the other holding the rope that led to Blair's bound wrists.

Before them in the center of chained slaves tied by his wrists to a pole was Rafe. From what Blair had gathered, Rafe had attacked and severely beaten on the guards. Whispered talk among the slaves told him Rafe had had enough of being raped each night and had finally lost it. Now he would suffer even more before death claimed him.

One of Pinkerton'd men used a bullhide whip on Rafe's back, buttocks and thighs until the detective's back was laid open.

Pinkerton and men laughed at Rafe's torturous cries. When Henri Brown tried to stand to help his old partner, he was kicked down into the dirt by one of the guards.

When the whipping was done, and Rafe hung unconscious from his wrists, the slaves were sent back to work and Pinkerton led Blair back to his prison.

Rafe remained unconscious until he died later that evening. His body remained upon the post for three days as a reminder of what happens to those who rebel against the New Order. When it was finally cut down, Rafe's body was burned on a pile of trash. The only ones who watched it burn were the two slaves who shovelled trash into the fire. The two slaves, both men, did no know the man whose body they burned, but after a quick look around for the guards the slaves bowed their heads and one them said in a low voice, "Rest in peace." Before any guard could come to punish them they returned to shovelling trash.

From a hidden barred prison window Blair watched the fire's light as tears fell down his face.

END PART 5