This is very AU. Tasha leaves the Farm in a totally different way. Rated PG 13 for language and a little tiny bit of violence.
Really AU. As Tasha flees the Believer's she is rescued by, gee, I wonder
who? Rated PG 13.
I don't own a bloody thing!
The girl ran and ran. Branches scratched at her face, causing blood to streak
down her cheeks, her heart pounded fiercely within her breast, begging her
to stop so it could relax. But she would not. She would not rest until she was
far, far away from those devils.
She had loved them. She had loved them only to be betrayed. Betrayed by
the people whom she had thought were her dearest friends and newfound
As Tash continued to run away, she wondered. She wondered, if she
escaped this, would she ever trust again?
"Wait," her heaving lungs seemed to cry out, "Please!"
She stumbled to a halt, hand resting on her chest, trying to control her heavy
breathing. She couldn't stop for very long. Although the bush around her
was silent, they would be upon her in a matter of moments. They were
clever, the Believers, very clever.
But her poor, poor chest. God, it felt as if it were about to burst. She needed
another minute, just one more-
"Can you see her?"
"Oh god ... Please, no,"
Gathering herself, she sprung forward.
Senior Detective Peter Baker got out of the black Sedan. Shutting the door
behind him, the young man shoved his hands into his pockets, waiting.
Tasha had to rest again. Perhaps not a good idea. But she was sure she had
lost them for a good while now. Peering through the trees, the girl spotted a
familiar face. The Detective, Peter Baker. He was getting into his car. Dear
god! He was going to drive away!
"I can't lose him," she whispered.
"Jack," Peter's distorted voice came from the other end of the radio.
"Nothing my end. Seen anything?"
"No. Jodie and Tim are at the Farm. The boss of the commune and the so
called, second in command, aren't there."
"What about Tasha Andrews?"
"She's not there either. They said the leader, they call her Mama Rose, and
some of her groupies went after her when she managed to escape a few
"Right. Ok. You and Cathy come back here. It's likely she'll come this way,
but I'll take a look further ahead. If I find anything, I'll let you know."
The Detective bit his lip. Muttering a curse under his breath, he reached for
the ignition key.
A girl darted out of the bush, dirty and bleeding.
"Peter!" she screamed from the top of her lungs. "Peter! Stop! STOP!"
He opened the door and got out. The girl ran forwards, panting like an
overworked farm dog.
Peter stumbled backwards, almost falling back onto the seat as the girl
launched herself into his arms.
"Thank god," she sobbed brokenly against his blue shirt. "Thank god."
"Tasha, it's alright." He said, holding her to prevent her from falling to the
ground. "What happened? How did you get here?"
Shaking, she pulled back, looking around wildly.
"Tasha, no one else is here but us." He assured. "Now tell me how you got
"Y-you have to save me," she whispered. "You have to save me from them."
She nodded earnestly. "They're mad ... A-all of them. Please, please help
me! We have to leave right now!"
He grasped her firmly by the shoulders. "Did they hurt you?"
"They're mad," she repeated. "They are all mad!"
Peter sighed. Tasha Andrews was scared beyond belief. He would take her
to the hospital, wait until she could provide more then the babble she was
giving him now.
"Get in the car. We'll go to the Hospital. I'll call Irene when we get there."
Tash felt as though she were about to faint from sheer relief.
"Let her go."
The speaker, a young man, came forth from within the scrub. Peter instantly
remembered him. He was with Tasha at Flynn Saunder's Funeral.
"Jonah, isn't it?" Peter asked, pushing Tasha behind him. "Hello there."
Jonah was silent. A few seconds later there was a rustling of bushes.
Beside him came an old, wrinkled woman with short, auburn hair, followed
by a young woman with long, light brown hair and a slender black haired
The old crone was the first of the new arrivals to speak.
"Give us the girl," she said. "We don't want to resort to anything ...
Unpleasant." She smiled unctuously.
Peter suddenly felt a chill go down his spine. Peering from behind him,
"Why should I?" he asked coolly.
"She is one of us. She joined us willingly!" the young woman insisted. "You
cannot deny us the girl!"
"I can, and I will do whatever I see fit," Peter growled back. "It is my firm
belief that you have severely mistreated Miss Andrews."
"As if we would do that!" The woman on Mama Rose's left sneered. "Tasha
is confused. She has been deceived far too often. She needs to come back
with us and be cleansed."
Peter felt Tasha's fingers suddenly cling to his jacket.
"No ... She whimpered inwardly. "No, no."
"Cleansed?" He echoed. "She's scared out of her wits!" He addressed
Tasha. "Miss Andrews, tell me. Do you want to leave with these people?"
Tasha took a deep breath, moving standing beside the Detective.
"I loved you." She whispered, voice pregnant with disappointment.
The young man, Jonah, suddenly bowed his head. Closing his eyes, he bit
his lip. The others only stared back at her as she continued.
"And you-you ... You treated me like-like some prisoner!" The girl's voice
rose higher and higher until it was a wail of anguish. "I HATE YOU!"
Peter gave the leader of the cult a satisfied look.
"Well, I guess that explains quite a bit, wouldn't you agree, Mama Rose?"
The woman shot him a venomous glare, it was as though he had just said an
incredibly offensive swearword right in front of her.
He merely offered her a smug grin.
"Tasha is returning with me," he informed her seriously. "I will later
question her and the other girl, Rebecca Tate. You will never, ever come
near her, or Summer Bay again. If you do, I will make certain you never see
the outside of a cell."
Mama Rose merely chuckled.
"Young fool. You can threaten all you want, but there is only two of you
against all of us."
"He has a gun," the young woman beside her cautioned.
"He would not shoot defenceless, peace loving people like us, my dear
Charity." Mama Rose cooed, her then face resumed it's recent, cruel
expression. "Trouble us, and we will destroy you. You are outnumbered."
Peter only continued to stare at Mama Rose.
"Perhaps you are right," he admitted.
The triumph in the old hags eyes was sickening.
"But he brought friends with him you didn't know about." a woman's voice
Everyone whirled around.
Constables Jack Holden and Cathy Heather's burst into view from behind
Peter's car, guns aimed at the Believers. Several other officers followed.
"About bloody time," Peter thought.
Outraged. Mama Rose glared at them.
"No!" She thought, almost roaring the word outloud.
Tasha was being taken away. From her. From her people. She could not let
"We should leave," the youth with black hair murmured. "She is not
coming. There are too many to fight, Mama Rose."
Charity readily agreed with him and began to back away, fading easily into
"Round them up." Peter said to a group of officers, "Jack, call the Station.
Get a van here to transport them. Tasha, get in the car. I'll take you to the
The girl didn't need telling twice. She promptly went to the passenger seat,
opened the door and sat inside, staring at her hands.
Peter turned to Mama Rose. The old witch, oddly, was standing quite still, a
shocked expression spreading over her wrinkled face. Cathy was getting
ready to cuff her.
"You've lost," he told her, not resisting the urge to brag in front of the old
sow. "She is leaving you now."
Mama Rose shook her head.
"No," she murmured.
"You're not taking the chosen one anywhere!" She roared.
To Peter's amazement, Mama Rose suddenly leapt forward, pushing him
Peter swore under his breath. After the old bitch had pushed him aside, he
fell backwards, landing hard on his arse. Profoundly displeased, he quickly
got to his feet, pouncing on the crone who now had Tasha by the arms, fully
intent of dragging the girl out of the car.
Tasha screamed and screamed, scratching despairingly at Rose's face.
"I'm not coming back!" She wailed. "I'm not coming back!"
"No!" shouted Jonah, who was being led to a car. "Leave her! She's
"We have all suffered enough," he added silently.
"She belongs to us!" the old witch shrieked as Peter pulled her away. "Let
me go, you fool! She is our saviour!"
"We'll take her off you, Detective," two officers, who had recently arrived,
volunteered. Peter gratefully shoved the wretch into their waiting hands.
Mama Rose cried out in anger, but she was not strong enough to free
herself. Instead she yelled at her captors to wait, her chest heaving from
exhaustion. Peter sighed, nodding to the Cops.
"Alright, Detective, you win," Mama Rose spat.
"I tend to do that-" She quickly cut him off. "But! I want to say goodbye to
Peter blue eyes blazed with fury. "Absolutely not!" he snapped. "You and
your people have said enough to her-" But Tasha, having regained some of
her composure, set a hand on his arm, willing him to be silent. "No. It's
alright. I really want to say goodbye."
The harshness on Mama's face melted. An unctuous smile replaced it.
"Thankyou, my dear," she purred.
"Fine," Peter said. "but I'm staying right here."
Mama Rose smiled fondly at the girl, ignoring her captors that surrounded
"Farewell child," she said softly. "I'm sure we'll meet again."
"No," Tasha murmured. "Never again."
The woman snorted.
"We'll see." She nodded to the officers. Allowing them to lead her to a car.
Peter turned to Tash. She was staring off into the distance. Huge tears
mixing with the blood and dirt on her face.
"Tash," he said. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."
She didn't seem to hear him. She simply continued to stare into space.
She jumped then smiled apologetically.
"Um. Yeah, sure."
He reached out, squeezing her shoulder. "You did a great job tonight.
You're a very brave woman Tasha Andrews."
She beamed at him, then to his surprise, hugged him.
"Thankyou Peter," she whispered, pulling away. She got into the car, happy
she was finally going home.