To Conquer Death
by Rainne
Part Three
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In Memphis Janna and Dick parted ways. He offered to find her another ride, but she decided that she'd been trackable for long enough. She shook her head and told him that she was grateful, but that her sister had a friend in Germantown that she could stay with for a few days. He left her in a truck stop in Bartlett, warning her to be very careful who she took rides with, and repeating the Miller brothers' request that she keep in touch. She promised that she would and went inside toward the pay telephone.
Standing in line at the phone, Janna watched as Dick fired his rig up and rolled out of the parking lot, at which point she stepped out of line and went into the bathroom. There she took out the buck knife she'd found in an inside pocket of Earl's coat and hacked her hair off into a rough chin-length bob, flushing the long strands away down the toilet wrapped in tissue. She examined herself carefully in the mirror and decided to hack in some bangs as well, altering her hairstyle as much as she could in the short time she had. Then she pulled a small wooden box out of her bag and opened it.
This box had been given to her by Linda, the shapeshifter from British Airways, and contained some small spells that she could use to disguise her appearance. They were all wrapped in small linen bags and labeled neatly. She chose one labeled "facial scar," opened it and recited the short cantrip in demon-speak that Linda had given her, and felt a swift burning sensation take the right side of her face. When it had dissipated, she looked in the mirror to discover that she now had an impressive knife scar which began just above her right eye and trailed down her right cheek. She grinned. "Cool."
She repacked her belongings swiftly and left the truck stop, heading back toward the Interstate. She climbed the fence separating the truck stop lot from the westbound shoulder and began to walk at a brisk pace, knowing that sooner or later someone would stop and pick her up.
It turned out to be sooner rather than later. She had only walked about two miles when a Ford Crown Victoria pulled over just in front of her. It was driven by an old man whose even older wife sat in the passenger seat. Janna pulled the back door open and climbed in. "Oh, thanks!" she exclaimed, pulling the door shut behind her and settling her bag on the seat next to her. "Man, I really appreciate it." She spoke quickly and sloppily, trying to catch the Southern twang that Earl and Jack Miller had used.
"You're very welcome, young lady," the woman spoke, as her husband focused on getting back into traffic. They slid into the left hand lane and picked up speed rapidly until they were cruising along at seventy miles per hour. "Where are you going?"
"My sister Emily's. She lives in California." She smiled winningly. "I'm Casey Logan, by the way."
"Casey, I am Victoria Boudreaux and this is Alexandre, my husband of fifty-six years."
"Wow, fifty-six years! That's a long time." She rubbed at the scar on her face, which itched a bit. "So, yeah, thanks for pickin' me up."
"Quite," Victoria intoned. She was awfully formal and, after having actually spent time in close quarters with British nobility, Janna found her rather amusing. "So, my dear, you are in luck, because Alexandre and I are traveling very nearly all the way to California. You are welcome to spend the trip with us under certain conditions."
Janna's eyes narrowed. "What kinda conditions?"
Victoria nodded. "You are an astute young woman, I can tell. Therefore you perhaps will have noted from the richness of our vehicle that Alexandre and I are rather wealthy. You would not be wrong. We also have a high position to maintain and could not in any case be suspected of harboring an obvious runaway."
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, Mrs. Boudreaux. Ain't nobody lookin' for me. My mama's dead."
"And your father?"
"Pa? Shoot, if Pa kin git outta the gin long enough to even notice I ain't there it'll be a surefire miracle. He'll be dead 'fore the snows come. And m'brother's in prison."
"For what crime?"
Janna indicated the scar on her face. "Assault with a deadly weapon."
Victoria raised one eyebrow. Janna shrugged. "I was ten. He was drunk and didn't know what he was doin'; but they tuck him off anyway."
Victoria nodded, satisfied with the story, though probably seeing it for the lie that it was. "And your sister?"
"Emily," Janna replied. "She lives near L.A. with some friends."
"She knows you are coming?"
Janna shook her head. "Naw. No way to let her know I was comin'. Got no phone to home, an' no long distance even did we have one."
"Then you shall call her. Tonight when we have arrived at our first stopover."
As Victoria willed it, Janna learned that night, so it would be. Victoria would hear nothing but that Janna should have a room to herself in the hotel in downtown Little Rock, insisting when Janna protested about the expense that they could well afford it and needed a grandchild to spoil. Alexandre, who, it turned out, spoke very little English, told her in a confusing mix of Creole French and broken English that she was to make free with the telephone for as long as she needed to call her sister and let her know what the situation was, but that she was to be at their room in precisely one and one half hours for dinner. And she was to have a shower and put on clean clothing before she came.
Janna stood and stared at the door for a long moment after Alexandre had left, simply stunned. Then she turned and stared at her ragged reflection in the mirror. "Somebody upstairs likes you, little girl," she told herself. "You just got as lucky as I think you're gonna ever get in your life." Then she made short shrift of the required shower, and went to sit on the side of the king size bed and stare at the telephone.
"Who should I call?" she wondered aloud. She could call Rupert Giles, the Watcher who had made the enquiry into the dead Slayer; or she could call directly to the Slayer herself, Buffy Summers. The thought of speaking to Buffy Summers sent a huge thrill through her body, and she began to feel as giddy as a teenybopper when presented with the opportunity to speak directly to the latest teen idol. Perhaps it would be the wiser course to call the Watcher, but she couldn't help it: she wanted to talk to the Slayer. She lifted the receiver, got an outside line, and called directory assistance in Sunnydale, California. She asked for both numbers just in case she should not be able to reach anyone at Buffy's home; rather than fool around waiting for the Slayer to come home and possibly endangering lives in the process, she would call Rupert Giles.
She sat for a long moment staring at the two telephone numbers scribbled on the hotel pad. Buffy Summers, Rupert Giles. She forced herself to breathe deeply and remain calm, thinking carefully through all the information she had that she needed to pass on. Then she picked up the receiver, got an outside line, and dialed the number with a shaking finger.
One ring, then two, then three, and an answering machine picked up. "You've reached Buffy, Dawn and Willow. We're all doing something incredibly exciting right now, which is why we aren't answering the phone. Please leave your-" and the recording was suddenly overlaid by a breathless human voice. "Hold on, hold on, I'm here. Don't hang up. Let me turn this stupid thing off." There was a thud, and a curse, and a sound of feedback, and then a click as the machine was successfully deactivated. The voice came back. "Sorry about that," it said cheerfully. "Summers' residence, can I help you?"
"Hello," she said softly in her own accent. "Might I please speak with Buffy Summers?"
"Not here," the voice responded laconically. "Took Dawn to the mall. Take a message?"
"Er..." she thought fast. She knew that the witch Willow lived with Buffy and was aware of her status as the Slayer, and if this were Willow, she could easily share the information she had with the witch. "Are you by any chance Willow?"
"Nope again," the voice came back. "Before you strike out, this is Dakota. Who'm I speaking to?"
Janna fought a brief moment of vapor lock. "Dakota Walsh?"
The voice was now amused. "No, *I'm* Dakota. Who are you?"
"Miss Walsh, you don't know me, but my name is Janna Markham and I have some information that you need to know about."
"Call me Dakota. Who are you, Janna with an English accent, and how did you come by this information?"
"I am who I say I am — Janna Markham. My information comes from my Watcher."
The voice when it came back now was deadly serious. "Are you with the Watchers' Council?"
"No. Not any more. I'm... I'm going to be a Slayer some day. If they don't kill me first. Mr. Giles called my Watcher and asked him about you, Dakota, and he knew about you. He told me. I know what you are and I know why you are like you are. But the Council killed my Watcher and if they catch me, they'll kill me, too."
"All right. Where are you?"
"Little Rock, Arkansas. The reason why you can-"
"Never mind about that. Tell me when you're here and safe. I can be in Little Rock late tomorrow or early the next day, I think. Are you safe?"
"Yes. You don't need to come to Little Rock. I'm traveling with some people and they can get me farther along. We're going to stop in Fort Worth, Texas, tomorrow night. Can you meet me there?"
"Yes," Dakota replied. "Write this number down." She rattled off a ten-digit number. "That's my cell. You call that number the first chance you get once you're in Fort Worth, and I'll come wherever you are and get you."
"All right, I will." She paused. "Dakota? Please be careful. The Council wants you dead."
Dakota snorted. "For more reasons than one, I'll wager. No fear, Janna. But you watch your back, hear?"
"I will," Janna said. "Um... I'm traveling as Casey Logan. Just in case the people I'm riding with are around when you pick me up. I said I was going to my sister Emily's."
"Okay. So am I your sister?" Dakota asked, understanding the subterfuge.
"No, I don't think so. You should be my sister's friend, I think, because that way it'll explain it when we have to ask each other 'are you so-and-so.'"
"Good thinking, kid," Dakota agreed. "All right. I will — hang on." Dakota's voice got farther away somehow and Janna heard her talking to someone else. "It's a girl named Janna Markham. She's a Slayer-to-be. Says she's got some good info out of the Watcher's Council but they're after her."
Another voice, which was slightly muffled, came back through the phone. "Not surprising." There was a rustling sound, and then another voice came on the line, this one higher than Dakota's. "Janna?"
"Yes?"
"Janna, this is Buffy."
Janna's head reeled. She blinked away the sudden vertigo and stammered slightly. "H-H-Hello."
"Janna, tell me where you are and who you're with."
Janna swallowed twice. "I'm in a Hilton hotel in Little Rock, Arkansas. I'm with two old people from Louisiana who picked me up when I was hitchhiking out of Memphis. They're going to take me with them to Fort Worth tomorrow."
"Okay. Who was your Watcher?" Janna told her the name. "And you say he's dead?"
"Y-yes," she stuttered, then she gasped and began to cry. "He's dead, he's dead and they killed him." Buffy spent a few minutes using her calmest voice with Janna, eventually quieting her tears and convincing her to straighten up. "I'm okay," Janna finally said.
"Good. Now, you said you're supposed to go eat with these people. Straighten up, go eat with them. Tell them whatever you feel like you have to tell them. Keep safe. Don't go anywhere alone. The Council won't risk making a scene anywhere and exposing themselves. Once you're in your room, bolt the door and don't open it for anyone. Just pretend you're asleep or in the tub or something. Okay?"
"Okay. I can do that. I can defend myself some. I don't have Slayer strength, but I do have a black belt in jujitsu."
"Good. Dakota will meet you in Fort Worth tomorrow night and then you'll come straight back here. We'll work up a plan of attack with Giles and the others then. You'll be safe here with us."
"Thank you, Buffy," Janna said sincerely.
"Don't thank me. Thank yourself. You've risked yourself to make sure that we're safe. We owe you big time for that. Now go eat, get some rest, and we'll see you tomorrow." They disconnected and Janna washed her face, then presented herself at the Boudreaux's door for supper.
Buffy hung the phone up and turned to Dakota and Willow. "This means trouble. I'm calling Giles."