Musings of Lost Souls

And Down He Came (Alex, Small)

2007-11-11T21:33:00.000-05:00

Alex paced the room, her mind racing through possible scenarios. After all this time, all these years, she now had the ring leader in her grasp. It was too perfect, too good to be true and indeed her situation would prove just that. For though she was soon to be left alone with the man who had fired the first bullet into her father, she had no weapon, no escape route, and no hope of survival. But such odds would not deter her from her life long mission.

Glancing about the lavishly decorated room she searched for anything that might be used as a weapon, but most of the room was filled with silken pillows and intricately designed tapestries. Apparently this room was used for nothing more than nocturnal recreation in which the young girl would soon find herself a part of unless she could find the much needed object of death.

Alas, time had run out and King Small was heard calling out a few last demands before retiring for the evening, his bulging belly preceding him into the room. “Ah, there’s my little wench.” He chortled, face redden from too much wine at dinner. “You do clean up nicely.” He moved towards her with a bit of a drunken swagger, an arm outstretched to touch her cheek but she instinctively stepped away, much to his dislike.

“You’ll not be so feisty once I’m through with you, wench.” He gloated, leveling slightly blood shot eyes upon her before he began to disrobe.

That is when she spotted it, a jeweled dagger that hung at his side. This was all Alex needed to give her hope, to spur her into action. Biting her bottom lip in thought for a moment, she took a deep breath and slowly approached the grotesque man, glancing up at him through her lashes in a coy gesture of innocence.

King Small stopped to consider this unexpected gesture, wondering what had caused her sudden change of mine but too cocky and full of drink to put much thought into it, he stepped forward, quickly closing the small distance between them. Again he reached forth a hand but this time she did not move. Wrapping a hand about her waist he drew her near, the scent of sweat and wine nearly causing bile to come to the girl’s mouth but she forced herself to not back down, she needed that dagger.

“Not so shy now, are you?” He smirked, his heavily lidded eyes drinking in her youthful body, a hand sliding down to grope her buttocks.

It took every ounce of willpower not to deck the man right there but she was too close to her goal to indulge in such behavior just yet. Instead, she placed a hand upon his waist, mere inches above the sought after dagger. Almost there. She reminded herself. But her thoughts were scrambled as the king placed an unexpected kiss upon her full lips. She had not expected this, hadn’t been prepared, and without thinking she punched him in his soft belly while simultaneously seizing hold of the dagger.

Stunned, King Small doubled over, groaning in pain from the surprise attack. “I’ll have your head, wench!” He bellowed as he attempted right himself but no sooner was he standing vertical once again did he find himself crumpling to the floor, this time with his jeweled dagger through his throat.

Alex watched in calloused intrigue as the man flailed about on the floor, hands grasping frantically for the object that was causing so much pain. Garbled sounds came from his lips as blood bubbled forth from his lips.

“Justice has been served.” She gloated, kneeling down to peer into the man’s eyes, watching as they glossed over, his breathing becoming shallower. A satisfied smile graced her lips when at last Small ceased to struggle, his body a lifeless blob upon his fine white carpet that was now stained with blood.

Taking a moment longer to bask in the glory of her work, she began to plan her escape. Fortunately, given what was supposed to be happening in the room, Alex was provided with plenty of time to figure this out.

The Creation (Loralie)

2006-12-15T13:47:00.000-05:00

“What the hell….” I sat up on the moist grass, rubbing the back of neck. My body ached all over and my head felt like I was recovering from an all night binge. I looked around and wondered how I had gotten to the park, which was followed by, “Why am I still in the park?” Standing up, I reached out a hand to brace myself against a tree as a wave of nausea overtook me. I doubled over retching but to no affect. Once the sensation subsided I took a moment to collect myself and try to put the pieces together.

I remembered going to the Sunset to meet a couple of friends. All was going well, a few drinks, lots of dancing, and even more flirting. What went wrong? I mentally took inventory of my beverages but nothing suspicious came to mind, I kept my drinks in hand at all times, and didn’t except any from strangers. In all my years of partying, I had never ended up like this. Deciding that the best thing to do right now would be to go home, I left my helpful tree and slowly put one foot in front of the other.

Thankfully I lived only a few blocks from the park and I arrived at my apartment in good time. Slipping my key into the door and unlocking it, I entered my humble abode, tossing the keys onto a little table to the right of the door that also held my phone. Without turning on the lights, I shut and locked the door, briefly wondering if I had left a light on some where for I could make out the objects in my living room perfectly. Shrugging it off, I kicked off my shoes and walked over to my cheaply upholstered couch to plop down.

Leaning my head back I closed my eyes, going over the evening once again but my thoughts were disturbed by muffled conversation, “Huh?” Grudgingly getting up, I crossed the small expanse of the room, approaching the window and peering out to the alley below. I could see that there were two young men talking and gesturing angrily with their hands. I made a little tsk sound and turned my back on the inevitable brawl.

I was only semi-conscious of the fact that my senses seemed to be heightened by my unusual state and also that I was freezing. “Maybe I’m just getting a sick,” I commented to myself for there was no one else to hold a conversation with.

Walking into the bathroom, I started the water running for a hot soak in the tub, dropping in a few bath salts to help me relax and lighting the candles that I kept on the shelf. Slipping out of my clothes, I turned to toss them into the hamper when a cold chill shot up my spine. Looking back at me from the mirror above the sink was – nothing. Shaking it off as a trick of my mind, I finished depositing my clothes and then turned back to the mirror. I watched the light from the candle dance across the smooth service, I could make out the shadow of the door and the tiled wall behind me, but I could not see my face. Goose pimples came up on my arm and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. Knowing that my imagination was getting the best of me, I flipped the light switch, blinking at the sudden brightness of the room. My mouth dropped at the empty space that should have held my reflection. “What the ….?” I asked aloud. Shaking my head I decided I had best get in the now steaming water, and rid myself of these strange effects. Without breaking my gaze from the mirror, I flipped the switch down. Pulling my gaze away from the square object, I stepped into the tub and sat down, stretching my legs out before me with a contented sight. Scooching down until my shoulders were covered I placed a washcloth strategically over my eyes and relaxed.

I don’t know how long I lay like that in the tub but it had been a while for the water was now cold. Standing up droplets of water slid down my body and glistened in the candle light. Stepping out I took a towel in hand and began to pat myself dry. Bending over, I placed the towel over my head, wrapping my hair up inside and fashioning a turban of sorts. Crossing to the medicine cabinet, I paid scant attention to the offensive glass as I opened the little door to display various toiletries. Picking up my deodorant, I quickly swiped it on and replaced it on the shelf, shutting the little cabinet. Removing the wet towel from my head, I picked up the comb off of the counter and looked into the mirror as I worked through the knots. My hand paused where it was at, as I saw nothing once again. “What is this?” Annoyingly I flipped the light switch up and studied the offensive object but could find nothing out of the ordinary. I flipped the light back off and came out of the bathroom, wanting to distance myself from the bizarre.

Stepping into my tiny bedroom that was barely big enough to hold my full size bed and a dresser, I went to the walk in closet where a small chest of drawers was nestled away. Opening the top drawer I removed a pair of gray panties and slipped them on, then reached into a lower drawer for an oversized t-shirt to wear. Once this basic task was done I flopped down onto my bed and stared up at the ceiling, my hands resting on top of my chest. That’s when I noticed it…my heartbeat….or the lack there of. A wave of nausea overtook me and ran into the bathroom, dry heaving into the porcelain throne. I felt as though I would cry from fear but no tears came to my eyes, it was if all basic bodily functions had ceased to exist. With trembling hands I closed the lid on the toilet and turn to sit on the cover, my head resting in my hands. “Oh, God, what have I done?”

Doing the only thing that made sense when I had a problem, I called my girlfriend, Bev. My leg bounced up and down as I sat with the phone receiver to my ear, waiting for her lazy southern drawl to break the monotony of the ringing. “Shit, where are you?” I asked the still ringing phone, willing her to pick up. Finally excepting the fact that she wasn’t there, I slammed the receiver down onto its cradle with a frustrated groan.

Being female I suddenly had the overwhelming need to eat chocolate. I can’t explain it, but I find it calms me when I am a bit stressed. Going into the kitchen I opened a bread box that contained not bread, but my stash of chocolate. Quickly unwrapping a dark morsel I took a bite, allowing the smooth dark chocolate to dissolve on my tongue but I found the task of swallowing to be difficult. I’m not quite sure how to explain this so that you will understand to the fullest extent. I was trying to swallow the food but the muscles in my throat were protesting to a point that it was actually painful. Thinking that this was some odd effect to the drug I had obviously received this night, I got a glass of water to help wash it down. With some effort, it worked but within seconds of this happening I felt my entire body rebelling against the substance and a dull pain begin growing from within my belly, coming in waves of nausea that intensified with each passing minute until I lie convulsing on the kitchen floor. Soon I found myself on all fours violently vomiting until there was nothing left in me.
Sitting on the floor in the corner of my kitchen I sat stunned and bemused, too weak to clean up my mess, and too shocked to move. “What’s happening to me?” I thought my face pasty but no perspiration or tears marred my skin, despite the fact that I was sobbing. Alone and confused I curled up into a fetal position and fell asleep.

Body guard on guard. (Sam Strong)

2006-02-10T19:28:00.000-05:00

Sam Strong was not surprised by the report that his employer had been assassinated, nor was he considering to seek revenge for the killing. No, not any thought of revenge as he had never personally cared for the judge, matter-of-fact he disliked the pompous ass. The only reason for finding the killer was to help maintain his own hard earned reputation as the best personal bodyguard money could buy. Dispatching the assassin of a high-ranking judge would over shadow the fact that the ‘Honorable Judge Benjaman’ had been killed in the first place. The media was easily predictable when it came to their reaction when reporting a sensational story.

Strong knew well that he was in the immediate area from where the shot had been fired, he could ‘sense’ the others presence even though the person remained visibly allusive. Besides the gut feeling there was even a more certain piece of evidence that the shooter was very near...Sam had actually heard the soft pffftt of the silenced weapon when it was fired. A silencer was never a hundred percent effective and the signature sound it emitted was unmistakable to one who knew what to listen for and Sam Strong was intimately knowledgeable of that particular soft of sound.

When the shot had been fired Sam had dropped to the ground immediately and then belly crawled behind a large elm tree on the side opposite from where the sound had came from. Sam was sure the assassin knew exactly where he was and this actually gave Sam a bit of comfort since the shooter had made no attempt to put lead into him. Who ever was out there was a professional, he had hit his target and now only wanted to extract himself from the area as quickly as possible.

This small tree covered knoll had offered a perfect spot from which to shoot, the only drawback was that it had only a single exit route, without being seen, and that was by descending the backside of the hill and Sam suddenly realized that is exactly what the killer was doing at this very moment.

Raising himself from the ground quietly Sam listened intently for any tale-tale whisper of sound though he didn’t actually expect to hear anything; he didn’t. Darting quickly from tree to tree he made his way quickly toward the crest of the knoll with is 9mm semi-auto in hand ready for action, when he had drawn it he didn’t really know for it had been a reflective action.

Reaching the hillcrest unmolested the hunter peered ever so cautiously from behind the rough bark of a walnut tree that now provided his cover. There was only a few low bushes on the back side of the slope and from there about two hundred yards of lush green grass that ended at a ten foot high chain link fence. A narrow asphalt path cut directly across the field of green traveling a parallel course with the knoll, a foot path for people who didn’t come here to golf, but instead to stroll leisurely and commune with nature. At intervals along the path side were benches for the walkers to sit and rest if they so desired and stone water fountains were located near each bench. A relaxing setting to be savored and to nourish the soul for most, but not for Sam Strong, and particularly not now. On one of the wooden benches sat a lone figure, unmoving and with what appeared to be a battered duffle bag on the ground beside him. His back was to the knoll and to Sam. The man, for man it was, was wearing a long dark coat, maybe a rain coat, and on his head was one of those small crownless back caps similar to the plaid headwear that golfers used to wear several decades ago. The man had gray hair and his hands were not visible from where Sam now observed.

That it was the shooter that sat motionless on the bench Sam was certain, that he was waiting for Sam’s arrival was also a foregone conclusion. Sam accepted the invitation, he couldn’t resist. Sam moved down the short slope keeping his weapon pointed at the back of that gray head. Sam’s every nerve tingled as he shortened the distance to his objective, each step increasing the confidence of the kill.

King Small(Alex)

2006-01-28T11:03:00.000-05:00

“Your Highness, we have a gift for you”

“A gift, for me? How kind of you, Fronwith.”

A filthy young lady was brought into the throne room by two men wearing black tunics. Roughly they pushed her to her knees before the king and forced her head down to pay respects.

“What is this?” stormed the king, disgust contorting his pudgy face. “A village wench, and a dirty one at that, I have enough of these. This is no gift, this is an insult and you will pay for defiling my throne room with such trash.”

“Please, your Excellency, allow me to explain.” The man’s face had grown deathly pale at the threat from the king. King Small was notorious for executing people in unusual ways; he took mercy on no one including his most loyal subjects.

The king leaned back into his over sized throne and rubbed his stubbled chin, “Very well, I will hear what you have to say then I will have you and this wench executed.”

The large man swallowed hard and shook visibly under the barbaric king’s gaze. “You are too kind, your Splendedness.”

“Enough with the buttering up, Fronwith, I grow bored looking at you.”

“Yes, your Highness.” Wiping his sweaty palms on the side of his tunic the man began recapturing the night’s hunt ending with their finding this girl covered in mud asleep in the rainforest. “Everybody knows your command about the rain forest, so I found her presence there most suspicious.”

The king eyed the muddy mess kneeling before him; her hair was matted and hung in front of her bowed head obscuring her face. “Bring her closer.” The guards that were holding the ragged creature lifted her to her feat and brought her to the step that led up to the throne. The king stood displaying a well fed belly. Stretching out one of his grotesquely swollen hands he brushed the hair aside and lifted the girl’s chin with his index finger. What he saw in her eyes frightened him and excited him all at the same time. If looks could kill he would have surely been a dead man. “Give her to one of the maids. Have them give her a bath and clean clothes and then send her to my bedroom.” With a wicked grin he added, “She can keep me company tonight.” The guards quickly moved to follow the King’s orders.

Returning to his throne, King Small now addressed the man standing before him. “You did well to bring her to me, Fronwith.” The still shaking man let out an audible sigh of relief. “Bransmet, take him down below.”

Fronwith started, his eyes bulging from his head. “But your Grace, you said that I did well. What of my reward?”

The king gave a wicked grin and leaned forward in his throne, “You’re right, you do deserve a reward.” Turning to Bransmet who stood to the left of the quaking man he said, “Make sure they use a sharp ax when they take his head.” Looking into Fronwith’s eyes he simply said, “Your reward.” and laughed as the stunned man was led from the hall sputtering a row of obscenities.

A hole in one. (Benjaman}

2006-01-26T19:14:00.000-05:00

The relative short trip to the country club was uneventful and quiet; there was no conversation what so ever between the judge and his chief of security. The limo arrived at the golf resort exactly ten minutes past the time the rest of the threesome was to be there. Judge Benjaman and S.S. exited the vehicle as did the guard that was in the front passenger seat. Evidently the front seat bodyguard had received his orders earlier; be the judge’s shadow. The judge would have voiced some objection if his guard and S.S. had been attired in their standard black suits, but S.S. had obviously foreseen how conspicuous that would appear, so both men were dressed casually. The only thing about their dress that seemed even slightly odd was their over-sized light blue windbreaker jackets. The jackets appeared to be a couple of sizes too large for each man’s frame, however the judge said not a word about it for he knew that the jackets concealed various lethal weapons...tools of the men’s trade.

Judge Benjaman enjoyed playing golf even though he was not particularly good at the sport. For him it meant a bit of time to socialize with a much better class of people then was typically found at most other social activities. That is how the judge categorized golf, an upper class social function and particularly so at this exclusive club. Of course it was rather expensive being a member here and his custom made golf clubs and customized cart were also extravagant expenditures, but no doubt the common tax payers would approve of their money being used for such a worthy cause, the judge’s outlet for his stressful and arduous duties.

At the first tee the rest of the foursome were sitting on a wooden bench conversing quietly and sipping beverages. They quickly arose as Judge Benjaman rolled up in his polished cart and each of the three smiled toothily and attempted to out maneuver the others in order to be the first to greet the judge. The bodyguard had double-timed behind the cart and was now completely ignored by the foursome as if he were no more then another piece of the surrounding greenery. In the distance near the first hole green Judge Benjaman caught a glimpse of S.S. just before the chief security guard disappeared into a small stand of trees checking out all possible places of concealment no doubt.

Giving no further thought to the mundane the judge ended the brief chitchat with his constituents and set his ball on the first tee. It was a wonderful day for golf and he felt superb. Another hundred million in his bank account always put Judge Benjaman in a good mood.

The game progressed at a leisurely pace and at the end of the ninth hole Benjaman was up by two strokes. The judge was well aware that the other three were probably holding back and well they should for the judge did not handle loosing very graciously.

After a drink and a snack at the clubhouse located near the ninth green the foursome went back to their game in good spirits. The bodyguard walked along briskly behind the judge’s cart, still completely ignored. S.S. was staying a good distance in advance of the group, but the judge had long since lost interest in the man’s doings.

On the difficult tenth hole Judge Benjaman shot par, a feat that elated him since he actually accomplished the task honestly. He was up by three strokes now and felt sure he could get an eagle on the easy par three eleventh hole. Pressing the wooden tee firmly into the fresh mown turf the judge placed his ball on the peg and straightened his stance as he looked to the distant eleventh cup flag. He was determined to make this his best shot ever and he focused his every fiber on the dimpled orb that rested just above the tips of the manicured grass. He stood as motionless as a carved stone statue, staring at the ball and visualizing it soaring straight and true to the cup.

Suddenly the judge’s sight failed him and it wasn’t his eyes that were struck blind, rather it was his brains, brains that were now splattered, along with skull fragments and gray hair, all over his stunned golfing partners and an equally shocked bodyguard. The top and back of the judge’s head had exploded. Near the hairline on his forehead was a perfectly round mark about the size of a quarter, the entry point of a large caliber round. There had been no sound of a gun and the birds continued to chirp and the leafs on the trees continued their pleasant rustling as Judge Benjaman’s lifeless body toppled onto the bright white new golf ball that still rested on it’s perfectly shaped tee.

When the body fell the guard finally sprung to life telling the other judge’s to get down even as he brought out the concealed auto pistol, but there was no target in sight. The guard seized his miniature two-way radio and quickly rattled off what had taken place and describing the scene in detail. After he had completed his narrative there were several seconds of silence and then the guard’s radio crackled briefly to life.

“Roger” was the single word reply. It was delivered by Sam Strong.

A gut feeling. (Benjaman, Strong)

2006-01-22T19:21:00.000-05:00

As judge Benjaman passed through the cramped office of his secretary he issued orders to the muscle bound man without even sparing him a glance.

“I’ll be departing by the main exit in one hour, I want two men stationed there to keep the press away from me as I go to my limo. Call Judges Wirkel, Conrad, and File; tell them to meet me on the first tee in exactly one hour.”

“Yes your Honor” was the short reply by the secretary.

The judge softly closed the door to his chambers as the last word of his directions escaped his lips, he didn’t bother waiting for the three word reply. He took a bit of satisfaction in the knowledge that those three fellow judges would spend fifteen or twenty minutes awaiting his arrival at the first tee, a good lesson in patience for his underlings. There was also a kind of sadistic pleasure in knowing that the three lesser judges would have to cancel or postpone any activities they had planned or which they might have in progress. Another lesson for the bench sitters; commoners are to wait on the judge’s pleasure for a judge is never to be inconvenienced. That any one of the threesome would refuse was not a consideration for they were completely aware of the fact that Judge J. F. Benjaman could make or break their fledgling careers within a short twenty-four hours if need be. They would be there all right and with huge phony smiles smeared across their ridiculous faces.

Judge Benjaman made himself comfortable in the leather-padded chair behind his beautiful desk; he then retrieved several legal documents from a desk drawer and hurriedly scribbled in a few words in the appropriate spaces on each form. After completing the paperwork he took a miniature tape recorder from the middle desk drawer and commenced dictating. Some of the dictation was for official letters that needed to be typed and other parts of the dictation were instructions to the receiver of this particular tape on what was to be done, how it was to be done and when it was to be done.

It took the judge fifty minutes to complete his ‘work’ and he now felt a need for the relaxation of the golf course. One need not attempt to accomplish everything in one day. Hell, it was only Monday and he’d already put in an hour and a half on the publics behalf. How much more could they expect of one man? No, he would have the rest of his appointments for this week cancelled and also the hearing for this week would have to be rescheduled. There was little since in killing himself for the job.

Having stuffed all the legal documents and the mini-tape into a large manila envelope the judge departed his office. This time on entering the secretary’s office the judge deposited the envelope on the battered metal desk and looked at he the burly guard as he gave his orders.

“See to it that Susan gets this at once. Tell the men I’m on my way out.”

“Yes sir, your honor. Sir, S.S. is in your limo.”

The judge hesitated a fraction of a second as he was reaching for the door that would let him into the now empty courtroom, only a brief hesitation hardly noticeable, then he exited the room with his mind now busy working on what prompted the shadowy S.S. to be here personally. Sam Strong, commonly referred to as S.S., was the chief of the judge’s personal security force. The judge did not fear the man for Strong was completely loyal to his employer and he was paid an extremely generous amount to be so. Still, Judge Benjaman did not like being around the man at all. Sam Strong made a person feel very uneasy, his light blue eyes seemed to look through a person instead of at them and there was never a trace of emotion on the man’s countenance. He was a medium built man on the far side of fifty with thick dark gray hair, a fair complexion except for a glaring white scar that ran from the bottom of his left ear to the left corner of his thin lips. Strong was also known, in certain circles, to be a cold-blooded and ruthless killer and the best in his business, that is unless one believed in unsubstantiated legends. If S.S. was here something was wrong for Strong seemed to have an instinct that warned him of danger, a ‘gut feeling’ he called it.

These thoughts and more quickly flashed across the judge’s mind as his Italian loafers tip-tapped a steady beat across the hardwood floor of the empty courtroom and then down the one flight of wide marble stairs to the main entrance. Through the glass of the massive brass framed courthouse door the judge could see the press with their cameras ready and boomed microphones waiting. He also was pleased to see a clear path some four feet wide that led straight to his waiting limo. Oh yes, the media reporters and camera men were aquatinted with the judge’s guards and how sometimes the brutes could ‘accidentally’ bump a person just a little too roughly. Unfortunate accidents could happen.

Judge Benjaman quickly descended the twenty or so steps from the courthouse to his waiting limo, the driver opened the back door just as the judge arrived and shut it immediately once the judge was inside the glistening black vehicle. The press people were obviously disappointed at not getting any comment from the judge, but it didn’t stop field reporters, most being very pretty young ladies, from chatting away into hand held microphones as cameras focused on the beauties with that unblinking glass eye.

The man who opened the car door for the judge got into the front passenger seat and the limo driver immediately stepped on the gas accelerating the vehicle away from the courthouse. The judge didn’t waste time as he questioned Strong even before he had settled himself into the limo's seat.

“Why are you here and why the extra guard? You usually find the driver to be sufficient, so what’s happened? Asked the judge pointedly.

Sam Strong turned his head to look at the judge, the cold ice blue eyes unblinking and showing nothing of what was going on behind them. As if contemplating his reply, Strong didn’t answer at once, but seemingly stared through the judge for a few moments, something the judge was used to even though it always felt disconcerting. Finally Strong spoke, his voice much deeper then one would expect.

“Can’t put my finger on it, just a gut feeling. I think your movements and the movements of those around you have been under surveillance for several days now; that includes me. I’ll up your security for a time.... just in case. As you know we won’t interfere with what ever your doing so just relax and I’ll handle anything that comes up. You are safe.”

That was it. There was no request, no solid reason, just a ‘gut feeling’. There was also no ‘Your Honor”, “Sir”, or any other such term of respect and Judge Benjaman knew better then to make such a demand of S.S. for the man would just turn and walk away and the judge would never see him again and the judge would not risk loosing the best personal guard because of vanity.

“I see” was all the judge said as he turned on the TV and watched the news as he attempted to ignore the chill coming from the man on the other side of the seat.

Night Out(Alex)

2006-01-11T21:11:00.000-05:00

Alex had been walking for hours and her head was throbbing as testimony to her plight. Her damp hair hung in ringlets down her back and over her shoulders leaving wet spots on her tunic that the lady in the village had given her. Her breeches were dirty and torn from going through brush and stooping down to look at tracks. Her feet and arms ached from the many cuts and scratches that they had received from the long trek. Over all, the cowgirl was miserable. She knew that she would need to find shelter and soon but the terrain didn’t make for much to pick from. Spotting a tightly knit cluster of trees and vines she prepared for her camp out.

As darkness descended upon the island the rain forest became alive with nocturnal creatures. The birds had long since quieted down for their rest and now came the hum of thousands of blood sucking insects as they sought out any exposed flesh. To protect herself, Alex covered her face, arms, and feet with mud. “So much for feeling fresh.” She laughed to herself to ward off the rising feeling of panic. She had become familiar with the panic attacks at a very young age, the first time she saw an Indian raid. Her head would become swimmy as if she had just been spinning around in circles, her heart would race, and she felt as if the air in her lungs were being squeezed out. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on her breathing, forcing her heart rate to slow – a tactic her father taught her when she began her new school shortly after they had traveled out west.

“Just close your eyes and think about something that makes you happy. Now just breathe.” She could still see her father standing before her as alive as the trees protecting her. He always smelled of pipe tobacco and saw dust. When she was smaller she used to sit on his lap, close her eyes, and savor the smell of him.

Alex’s breathing regulated as she thought about her beloved father but unfortunately the insects had no intent on simmering down. The forest was alive with the thunderous chorus of a million crickets. She couldn’t see all the tiny creatures but she could hear them and feel them, so much for a peaceful night’s sleep. Curling up into a fetal position on the forest floor, Alex closed her eyes and listened to the forest, anxiously anticipating the morning.

*******************************************************************

Something sharp kept poking her in the ribs as she slept, she squirmed around hoping to dislodge the pointy object. Again the prodding occurred and Alex roused herself from her sleep. Her mind suddenly updating itself on the situation and her environment. Sensing danger the girl stealthily grasped some dirt into her hand and opened her eyes feigning a groggy head. “Leave me alone, ma, just a few more minutes.”

“I ain’t your ma, now get up girl” more pokes from the pointed object accompanied the harsh words.

Alex sat up, still pretending to be half asleep. There were five men with spears and guns standing around her. They all wore black tunics with an emblem of a griffon embroidered in red upon their right chest. Their breeches were brown and they wore soft leather boots that came up to the middle of their calves. Alex was struck by the contrast of their dress in comparison to the villagers’ she had been staying with.

“Get up, I said or I’ll run ya through, girl!” Realizing that these men were out at night in the hopes of finding something, she thought it best to do as she was told. As soon as she was on her feet, two of the men grabbed her arms, leading her out of her protective cove.

They had only walked a few feet when they met up with another group of men clothed in the same attire. This seemed to be some kind of search party but what they were searching for Alex could only guess. After waiting for a few minutes the group was joined by five more men and together they all began to march through the rain forest, happy with their discovery.

Ship a'hoy(Evilin)

2006-01-11T12:21:00.000-05:00

Evilin had lost track of the time but judging from the position of the sun it was fast approaching sunset. She knew that Luke’s hideout must be nearby for only a fool stayed out at night in the forest. The men talked amongst themselves in hushed voices, the only time they spoke directly to her was to see if she needed a bathroom break or a drink of water. Her legs and back ached from the unaccustomed riding, and she desperately wished that they could walk for a bit but she was afraid to ask such a request as she didn’t know how much further they were going.

Without warning the forest ended and a vast rocky beach opened before them. Evilin had never been to the other side of the island and judging by its appearance, she hadn’t missed much. Large rocks jutted up from the water to form a semi-circle with a small waterway that led into the ocean. The beach was littered with broken shells and pebbles that had tumbled their way onto the shore and seagulls loomed over head looking for a bite to eat. There were no signs of any other people and Evilin couldn’t help but ask why they were there.

“We’re going home, of course.” Laughed Solo with a wink to Chewie. It took the hairy man a few seconds before he understood the joke, then he too began to laugh.

Luke made a gesture with his head and the men set to work uncovering something in a nearby brush pile. To Evilin’s surprise they pulled forth a small row boat, complete with oars. Ben took the horses and walked them to the forest edge where he appeared to be talking to them. He sauntered back with a content smile upon his face. Evilin glanced around the man and saw that the horses had disappeared.

“You can help carry,” Solo nonchalantly put two ores in her arms intending for her to carry them to the water’s edge. The small girl stumbled and fell into the sand under the weight of the wooden poles.

“Think, man.” Chastised Ben as he removed the ores from atop the girl. “Just follow us and don’t try anything funny or your father can find his own way out of the slave pens.”

Evilin was too scared to try anything anyhow and wouldn’t know where to go if she could escape so she simply did as she was told. Once the boat was placed in the water the five of them loaded in and Solo and Chewie began the laborious task of rowing the vessel out to sea against the incoming tide. Evilin had never been on a boat before and clung to the side of the boat with all her strength as it pitched back and forth upon the frothy water. Noticing the girl’s white knuckle grip, Luke decided to try to make small talk with her in order to help her relax.

Once they came out of the cove the large four sail schooner that awaited them could be seen. Her colors of royal purple and gold whipped about in the ocean breeze and the ship rocked gently on the waves as if it were excited to see its captain return. Pulling the row boat along side the much larger vessel where some ropes awaited, they quickly tied off. Having done this they waited patiently as they were hoisted up by man power and pulleys. The crew that awaited them was a vast arrangement of noblemen, peasants, and free men who had come together under one cause – to rid the Island of Antipodes of the dictator James Small.

Justice is served, NOT. (Benjaman)

2006-01-07T20:48:00.000-05:00

As Judge Benjaman entered the courtroom he felt that wonderful satisfaction that coursed through his veins every time he heard the bailiff announce his arrival. To see all the commoners in the courtroom standing with eyes fastened on him gave him an adrenalin rush, so much so that he even gave the sensation a name, Caesar Syndrome he called it, but only to himself.

The judge ascended to his throne and made himself comfortable before giving a slight nod to the bailiff that indicated permission for the uniformed man to allow the occupants of the room to be seated. Benjaman waited for the inevitable rustling and coughing of the people to subside then he rapped the mahogany gavel plate with his polished wooden hammer.

“This Federal Appeals Court is now in session. We all know why we are here, so to expedite matters in order to conserve tax payer’s money I will forego the formalities and have the defense state his case.”

Having made this brief statement the judge nodded to the defense attorney, Fleceum, to commence. Fleceum stood but maintained his place behind the wobbly folding table and he addressed his appeal to the bench. While the clever little attorney was orating the judge flipped open his laptop computer that he had earlier set up to his bank account where the money would be placed in the next twenty-five minutes.... or else.

Goto Fleceum rambled on for about fifteen minutes during which time he said nothing that would get his client off the hook. Judge Benjaman glanced at his computer, nothing yet.

“Mr. Fleceum, I said I wanted to save the tax payer’s money, not waste it on hot air (chuckling was heard from the courtroom occupants). I feel this court understands your position completely. Be seated and the court will now allow the prosecution to state it’s rebuttal, briefly I should hope” said the judge pointedly.

The prosecuting attorney stood at her table as had Fleceum; much to the disappointment of the judge for he was hoping she would approach his throne a bit closer in order to provide him with a closer view of her shapely figure. Karen Coffee was an excellent attorney, not only beautiful she was very intelligent and her appointment to the D.A.’s office had been strongly recommended by the judge himself. The judge’s admiration for the prosecutor was not for her legal skills however, he figured it was a way to see her a little more often. Also, according to the judge’s way of thinking, Ms. Coffee now had a taste of the power and she would soon develop a hunger for more. In order to acquire more power she would be forced to be friends with the judge. It was something James Benjaman was anxiously looking forward to with great anticipation.

A flashing pop-up on the laptop’s plasma screen caught the judge’s eye and he let go of the fantasy about Karen Coffee. The computer was notifying him that his bank account had just experienced activity; a deposit of one hundred million dollars had just been confirmed. The judge looked at the time in the lower right corner of his computer screen, six minutes to spare, very good indeed. Judge Benjaman punched a few keys on his laptop and the money was transferred to several different banks and from them to other banks and finally to the money-laundering broker he had selected. Completing his money manipulations he then sent a short instant message to his limo driver to pick him up in front of the building in one hour and to arrange for a tee off time two hours from now.

“Aw-hmmm, that was well said Ms. Coffee. The court understands your position; please be seated” said judge Benjaman warmly.

“The court does not find it necessary to deliberate in order to consider this case any further, the necessary and only possible decision has been reached. Though the defense served his client with little expertise, this court cannot and will not standby and allow unjust and possibly illegal police procedures to condemn the defendant. The eyewitness testimonies will not be allowed as evidence. Four Caucasians just happen to see a Hispanic man torture and kill a person, not likely. The D.A.’s office will conduct an investigation of the witnesses to see who committed perjury and to further discover if there was a conspiracy against a minority citizen of this great nation that was built on the blood of minorities (the press would love that one the judge was thinking). Furthermore, the defendants signed confession is also declared inadmissible evidence for this court has serious reservations that the document was signed without the defendant being under extreme duress and intimidation by law enforcement officers. The District Attorney’s office is to see to it that the arresting officers and other officers that participated in this fiasco are suspended until a thorough investigation of the matter is concluded and a detailed report is made to this court for consideration to evaluate if the law was violated by the Neanderthals that comprise much of our inept police force. Without the afore mentioned evidence this court finds reasonable doubt of the defendant’s guilt and therefore all charges are dismissed. Also, it is the court’s duty to point out that this has been a waste of the hard working citizen’s resources and a formal letter of reprimand will be issued to the District Attorney (another piece of candy for the press). Court is dismissed.”

Judge Benjaman arose from his throne and the bailiff immediately called everyone to rise as the judge departed the room. Judge Benjaman smiled to himself as he made for the door beneath his portrait. Yes, once again due to police brutality and stupidity, a questionable person is set free for the rules of complete justice must be preserved and administered at all cost...justice must prevail.

It was going to be a beautiful day on the golf course.

The Party(Alex)

2006-01-02T21:46:00.000-05:00

Chewie stood next to Solo, his dripping wet clothes forming a mud puddle beneath his feet. “The least you could have done was remove your shirt and shoes, you big hairy rug.” Growled Solo irritably has he moved away from the large man in order to avoid sitting in mud.

“I thought my clothes could use a bath too” and the others laughed at the hairy man’s simple wit.

Luke swallowed the piece of jerky he was chewing on then looked apprehensively at the water. “There must be somebody else out there. Did you check by the falls?” Chewie nodded his head as he worked on a piece of bread. “Well, let’s finish our lunch and be on our way then, I see no need to linger.”

“What about the girl?” asked Ben.

“If she’s precious to the “King” then we will certainly need to take her with us.”

With that the men replaced the jerky and bread into a knapsack and prepared their horses for travel. Evilin sat quietly listening to the men’s conversation all the while she was wondering where the blind lady had gone off to. She had heard of Luke and his men, as had most of the island. It was rumored that he was heir to the throne before Jake Small arrived buying off the law and murdering those who would not have him crowned. If it hadn’t been for a quick thinking maid, Luke would no doubt have been lying in rest with the rest of his kin – six feet under ground. Once the would-be king was strong enough to hold a sword and form a plan, he gathered a few close friends to his side and began the long process of making King Small’s life miserable.

“Ben, put the girl on your horse, I don’t trust Solo with her.”

“Yes, Captain,” Ben reached out with very gentlemanly manners and helped Evilin to her feet. Then carefully he took hold of her by the waist and lifted her upon the brown horse that was awaiting its rider. Ben looked to be a little older than the others, there was a touch of gray over his ears and his face shown with wisdom and experience that can only come with age. He never seemed to be in a hurry but moved with purpose and grace.

As the party moved out Evilin took the opportunity to study the others starting with the one they called Chewie who was riding on a large black work horse. He was a big man easily standing a foot taller than any of the others. His face was covered in a bushy brown beard that merged into his hair making it hard to tell where the one ended and the other began. He had unusually hairy arms and she could tell by the opening on his shirt that he had a hairy chest as well. His voice was deep and gravely, and he seemed a little slow in the thinking process but was very loyal to his friends. There was no doubt that he would lay down his life if they were to ask it of him.

The other member of the party was Solo, a young cocky looking fellow with jet black hair. He had a crooked smile and could be considered handsome despite the deep scar that ran down the side of his left cheek . His greatest pleasure seemed to be in belittling others. Evilin was surprised that his horse could carry the man as well as his ego for it was truly a large one.

Luke had sandy blond hair and alert blue eyes, very little escaped him. He treated his friends as equals despite the fact that he had the final say on things. He rode his horse with a deceptive aloofness, his eyes searching the surroundings, and his right hand resting on the pummel of his sheathed sword. To be so young, there was no doubt that he had great intellect surpassing even his elders.

Although Evilin was frightened by her captors, she couldn’t help but be excited as well. She was riding with the legendary Prince Luke and with any luck she could convince him to help her father, thus ending the need for her to marry the king.

********************************************************************

Alex waited for bit to be sure the men were gone before returning to the lake. It seemed the safest and fastest way to get to the other shore where she hoped her clothes still awaited her. After a nice swim she emerged from the water and was relieved to find her things upon the rock, warmed by the sun. Quickly dressing she studied the ground to see which direction the riders took. Once discovering their trail she carefully made her way along the same path her mind racing for a plan.

Do the deal (Benjaman, Fleceum)

2006-01-01T22:08:00.000-05:00

The judge’s pleasant musings on how nice it was to be above the law were abruptly interrupted by a soft tone emanating from his phone, it was the intercom line to his ‘secretary’s’ office.

“Yes?”

“Your Honor, there’s a lawyer here ta see ya, name of Gotto Fleceum” was the reply given by the heavily accented voice of the secretary.

Judge Benjaman glanced at the one-of-a-kind hand crafted Swedish clock that adorned his redwood paneled wall, still a half hour to go before the hearing.

“Tell Mr. Fleceum to wait” said the judge with a smile on his face and pushing the disconnect button on the phone.

The judge knew it would take less then five minutes to conclude the business with the conniving Fleceum and he had no desire to spend more time with the man the was absolutely necessary. It wasn’t that he disapproved of the attorney’s methods, quite the opposite actually. No, what he didn’t care for was Gotto’s ambition, it was earning him a reputation in prominent circles and that was unacceptable. It would soon be necessary to place a choker collar on Mr. Fleceum before his rocketing career could become any kind of a threat. It was much better to deal with these types of annoyances by nipping them in the bud.

While he had nothing better to do for the next quarter of an hour Judge Benjaman opened the portfolio that lay before him on his desk. He had already reviewed the case thoroughly and saw that the prosecutor had this one in the bag....maybe. There was always the possibility of an unexpected twist, a loophole in the law that could turn events and the judge had the power to cause that unexpected twist. Of course there was one more court that the case could be appealed to, but it was most unlikely to be accepted in that court once Judge James Francisco Benjaman made his ruling. The highest authority in the land was even now considering appointing Judge Benjaman to that group of nine and no one wanted to get in the way of that appointment for such things tended to be very detrimental to one’s career. The judge smiled, this time his gleaming white teeth were visible as a very pleasant thought crossed his mind, not for the first time. Once he occupied a throne of the nine he would become one of the untouchables. Even the person who appointed him would be subject to his power and the ‘law’ ensured that he could never be removed from the position. It was a very good life indeed.

In the secretary’s office Attorney Fleceum was attempting to find a comfortable position for his boney buttocks on the unyielding metal chair. On his lap he clutched a briefcase that contained a few legal papers, a note pad and a light weight laptop computer. The secretary had already searched the briefcase as well as the attorney’s person. Gotto was well aware of what the judge was up to by having him wait under the watchful eye of the secretary and it was a lesson he would remember, something to use when he himself occupied that inner sanctum.

The phone on the secretary’s desk emitted a harsh buzz and the secretary snatched up the receiver at once and spoke.

“Your Honor.”

A brief moment passed as the man listened to the phone and then he returned the receiver to it’s cradle without saying another word into the phone.

“Ya can go in now” was the gruff statement directed at Fleceum.

Gotto arose and went to the door letting himself in, the secretary’s eyes bore holes in him every step of the short distance. Fleceum now stood before Judge James F. Benjaman’s majestic desk with his briefcase in hand.

“May I sit down, your Honor?” Gotto asked as he started to lower himself onto one of the huge custom made leather chairs that were obviously set near the desk for visitors.

“You may not. You’re not going to be here long enough to get comfortable. I have court in exactly fifteen minutes so state your business and be quick about it” said the judge in a cold clear voice.

Straightening from his half sitting position the little attorney cleard his throat and got right to the point as he had been directed.

“Of course, your Honor. My client would like to negotiate, ah, a deal, a very generous deal.”

“I see, and just what does your client expect to receive from such a deal?”

“Your honor, my client hopes to receive a greatly reduced sentence, or even better, a dismissal of all charges.”

The judge leaned forward in his chair now and stared at the attorney so hard that the little weasel took an involuntary step backwards.

“Mr. Fleceum, your client is asking a lot. According to the case files I have here in front of me there were four sworn testimonies from eye witnesses that saw your client torture and murder a man. If that weren’t enough he has also signed a full confession to the murder, to extortion, to racketeering, to dealing in narcotics and has implicated himself in several other murders and assorted felonies. It appears to me that the D.A. has your client by the short hairs and a deal would require a lot of giving on your client’s part to even be considered seriously.”

Gotto had the wheels humming in his head now, he had been through this routine before with the judge and therefore he knew exactly what the next move had to be.

“Your Honor, my client is willing to offer five million for an acquittal.”

Judge Benjaman snorted with contempt then spoke ever so softly. “Mr. Fleceum, I’m tempted to have you physically removed from my chambers. Your precious client operates a hundred million dollar a month business, so if your deal doesn’t get a lot better very quickly I’ll see to it he is executed as expeditiously as possible and I’ll also see to it that you spend a lengthy stay behind bars yourself. Now quit wasting my time, you have precisely two more minutes.”

Gotto was aware the judge wasn’t bluffing and that he now had no choice.

“Very well, your Honor. What would you consider to be a workable sum?”

The judge didn’t even blink as he spoke.

“One hundred million dollars, a mere month’s income for your scum bag client.”

“That’s outrageous!” Gotto blurted without thinking. “He’ll probably have me killed if I agree to such an amount.”

“You listen to me you little snake” spat the judge with venom.” You agree or your client fries. Look at it this way, if you don’t get him off his associates are sure to kill you. One minute, the clocks ticking. Well?”

Gotto Fleceum looked at the judges unblinking eyes and realized there was no compromising to be found in the man, he had no choice at all.

“All right, agreed, a hundred million” the dejected attorney whispered.

“Good! Now get out of my chambers and if the whole amount isn’t in my account in thirty minutes your client, and you, are history” snapped the judge as he handed Gotto a scrap of paper with a bank name and account number one it. “One more thing. Fleceum, don’t ever forget to address me by my title again. Now get out!”

After the defense attorney had departed Judge Benjaman got up from his desk and donned his robe of office. He was humming cheerfully to himself as he considered which money laundering broker to use this time. Decisions, decisions, would it never end? No, the judge certainly hoped not. It was time go and administer the law.

"Judge not least you be judged" {Benjaman)

2005-12-30T20:01:00.000-05:00

The Honorable James Francisco Benjaman, Judge; that is what the gold plated placard reads that is displayed inside the rich dark mahogany frame sitting upon an equally fabulous mahogany ‘judge’s bench’ that rested several feet above the glossy, hand polished, figured cherry hard wood floor. The room which the ultra expensive cherry floor supported was large and formal in appearance, Italian marble walls holding no pictures except for the large oil portrait in a silver and gold gilted frame. The expensive canvas depicted Judge Benjaman dressed in the full regalia of his office and displaying the appearance of both wisdom and piety on his silver browed and thin liped face. The imposing painting was located directly behind and above his massive hand carved throne-like chair which he referred to as his “place of business’ when the ornate seat was ever mentioned by the press. The room contained exactly fifty unpaded wooden benches arranged in two rolls of twenty-five each and were split to left and right of the room. These were not ordinary benches though, each bench represented an individual redwood tree that had been sacrificed to form the bench to a perfectly crafted seamless piece piece of furniture.

The front fourth of the room was partitioned off by a thirty inch high divider wall made of the best walnut and in the demunitive wall was a single opening in the precise center that allowed access to the very front of the courtroom. Just past the little dividing wall were two battered eight foot folding tables with dented and wobbly metal chairs shoved haphazardly beneath them. The judge was quick to tell the media that this was to demonstrate his complete impartiality toward all that came before his seat for judgement. In truth his Honor felt nothing but disdain for criminals that got caught and contempt for anyone that would let themselves fall victim to a brainless criminal. Entrance to this impressive courtroom was through massive double doors of elaborately carved oak fitted with polished brass handles and decorative iron hinges. Soon the double doored entrance would be unlocked to admit the ‘ordinary people’ who would be looking to Judge Benjaman to administer the law and, if necessary, determine the appropriate punishment.

Directly beneath the portrat of the judge was an oaken door, unadorned and unimposing, this door allowed access to the judge’s private secretary’s office. The office was a typical and impersonal as any cooperate business cubical, filled with filing cabinets, office equipment and a small gray metal desk where the secretary employed his craft. There were actually seven very highly payed secretaries assigned to this office, all were males an not a single one of them knew anything about being a secretary except how to answer the phone and how to intercept visitors who came calling on the judge. In fact, these secretaries were actually heavly armed bodyguards and there was always one on duty in the little office every day of the year arround the clock. Behind the little metal desk was another unimposing portal, but what lay behind door number three was anything but plain, it was His Honor’s private chambers.

At the moment James F. Benjaman was tilted back in a large over-stuffed leather swivel chair, a chair that cost more then many people earned annually laboring. The judge had the heels of his hand stitched Italian shoes resting on the top of his magnifican desk which was even more elaborate and expensive then his ‘bench’ in the courtroom. The Judge was smiling contently. He was smiling from the knowledge of the power he wielded and because there was no foreseeable end to his power and accumulation of wealth. Soon, before the scheduled hearing, he knew the weasely defense attorney would be requesting a closed conference with him, a conference that would undoubtly fatten his already swollen Swedish bank account. Judge Benjaman smiled even broader as he thought how good it was to be the law, but even more pleasing was the knowledge that society actually allowed him, and all other judges, to be above the law. It was a wonderful country indeed, this land of the free.

Captured(Alex)

2005-12-24T10:13:00.000-05:00

Solo returned after a bit carrying a young girl over his shoulder with her arms and legs flaying about wildly, in his other hand a carried a basket containing berries and nuts. The girl’s dark hair tumbled in an unruly mess down over her face, obscuring her features from the other members of the part. A stream of profanities and ill wishes issued forth from her with such vehemence that on occasion caused Solo to wince as if he had been slapped in the face.

“Here you go, Captain’” and he dumped the girl unceremoniously to the ground with a thud.

“Well, I never…” began the girl but she was quickly silenced by one of Solo’s large hands covering her mouth.

“I’ve heard about enough out of you, missy. Now why don’t you be a good girl and tell us where you’re from and what you’re doing out here all alone.”

The three men stared down at the girl (Chewie was still searching the water) with a patient but stern look upon their faces. Luke noticed that Solo had several scratches and bite marks on his hands and arms and even a few on his neck and face. “She give you a hard time, Solo.” He chided nodding towards one of the wounds that the big fellow was rubbing on.

“She may be little but she’s all hellcat.” He said in way of explanation even though his cheeks and neck turned a bright red.

“All right, miss, why don’t you answer our questions nice like, and we’ll have you on your way if we see you’re no threat to us.”

The girl stared up at the men, fire shown in her eyes and her jaw flexed in anger.

Luke smiled at the girl’s defiance; he could easily snap her scrawny neck if he chose to do so. “You are indeed a “hellcat” aren’t you? Let me put it this way, if you don’t answer our questions then I’ll be forced to take you with us or just kill you. Your choice.”

The girl thought for a moment then agreed to answer their questions.

“Alright, we’ll start with something easy” began Luke, “what is your name?”

*****************************************************************

Alex finally made it to the shore and stealthily made her way to the protection of some nearby brush. Feeling confident that she was well hidden, she closed her eyes so that her other senses could better tell her what was going on around her. She could hear the splashing of water as the big hairy fella searched in vain for another person, she could smell rain that would be arriving before the sun went down, and feel the gentle breeze on her wet skin. By steadying her breathing she was able to pick up bits and pieces of conversation from the men by the lake. All though she could not see her she knew that they had found Evilin and that she was being her usual stubborn self. Alex felt the forest floor around her in search of some kind of weapon; she was quickly rewarded by a thick stick and a good size rock. Clutching these to her she waited to either be discovered or for the opportunity to rescue her friend.

Battle Ready (Dusty)

2005-12-21T12:56:00.000-05:00

Feverishly the elven soldiers worked to secure the many hatches and shields that had recently been set up as protection against a troll firestorm attack. As the wooden fixtures were put back into place Dusty surveyed each ship with its captain to ascertain any damage that might have occurred. So far the inspections had turned up little, the wards spoken by the casters before the attack had indeed done their job.

Meanwhile the enemy forces Dusty had noticed earlier were fully massed in the small vale below them. The Troll leaders did indeed have Gnome casters with them, because now they were bending the rock into assault ladders so as to give several small squads a chance to attack the elven ships on the rocky cirque. Though it seemed as if the elves were not the major target, which would explain how so soon after touching down the elven warships had been located.

Checking over his charts, while at the same time keeping an eye on the progress of the gnomish benders Dusty realized that there was a medium sized human settlement about two hours march from his current location, which meant that the troll forces were massing to attack the settlement. The very circumstance the elves feared when they learned that a troll fortress had appeared in Gatshimntol Pass.

Dusty slowly strode out of the command hut. Walking toward the western edge of the cirque he contemplated the task forces next move. Considering the possibilities he noticed a small group making their way toward the mountain vale from the direction of the human settlement.

“Sir, the gnomes have nearly finished the steps.” one of the elven archers said rushing into earshot of Dusty.

“Very well then, take out every gnome that is visible. Be sure to hit them in both eyes so that they can’t be resurrected.”

“Sir!” he acknowledged. Turning and running back to his post the archer commander shouted out Dusty’s orders.

Weighing everything Dusty decided that his forces needed to help the small sortie from the human settlement dispatch the group in the vale, before continuing on with the attack on the fortress itself.

“All right gentlemen here are the plans…” Dusty started walking back into the command hut. “…we need to drop down and take care of the group down below us. Aktolan, the nearby human settlement has dispatched a small force to investigate or maybe even take on the troll forces next door. They won’t have a chance. We hafta help them out. I want to split our forces. Half will stay on the ships that I want to lift off and circle around the mountain coming in from the north with a hard landing. The other half will stay here and descend the mountain, using the gnome ladders, once the ships touch down. Most if not all of the gnome casters should be dead so the biggest concern will be the ability of the trolls to regenerate. If you take the head they can’t.”
“The Miarason, Shiatsun, Quebecoix, Rainbow, Mirrowbrook and Brighten will stay with me. You other six will be the air assault force, with Commander Waymarker in charge. You must hold out until we can descend the mountain, so you’ll be on your own for the first little bit. We they see themselves out flanked I’d imagine things will turn pretty quickly.”

“Aye sir, we will more then hold our own.” Waymaker replied.

“Good. Now Commanders Suntracker and Waverider I want you to summon the casters. Each of you take half of them and tell them to bend tunnels down through the rock to where the troll gnomes left off in trying to bend those damn assault ladders up the mountainside. Send word right before you break through for the ground units to rally and drop through immediately upon completion.”

“Aye sir.” The two replied in unison leaving the command shack to carry out their orders.

“Commanders Moontripper, Cloudwalker and Dirtmover will ensure that the ground troops are ready for their part of the assault. We should only have the usually Troll forces to contend with but outfit them with gear for repelling majic attacks too. Elemental shields, diamond armor and mithril blades I’d say should see us through.”

“Should we rig for dragonfire, Admiral?” Commander Cloudwalker asked rising to leave on his assignment.

“They need at least a full day to eat brimstone after a run. I certainly hope they don’t have access to more dragons then what we saw. We’ll just hafta take our chances. Let’s get to it lads.”

Killing time (Quint)

2005-12-18T16:56:00.000-05:00

I spent the next several days resting, cleaning my equipment and taking short trips into the city to gather maps and information. I also took the time to purchase replacements for the equipment I had lost, I wouldn’t need a large arsinal on this particular assignment, but I wanted to have all my tools ready for use just like any other craftsman.

During these days of planing I did a lot of thinking about the words of Edwardo and of Calib Black and I finally reached a definate conclusion…I was tired of thinking about it and to hell with it. My life was in need of simplification and that meant just one thing to me, do what I do best and no petty for fools that got in my way.

With my preperations finally completed and my plans and alternate plans etched firmly in my mind it was time to get moving. I went down stairs to the tavern with my sea bag in hand for it contained some extra clothes and the tools I would need on this job. In the pub I grabbed a quick bite to eat and left an envelope on the table with Phae’s name scribbled across the front, inside was cash for the next six months board and a brief note letting him know I would be out of town for a while. I departed the Serendipity with the worn bag grasped tight in my left hand, I left without socializing for my mood was now that which had carried me through most of my life without too many complications, cold and deadly.

In the alley I found the sedan I had told Charlie, via phone, that I would need, an inconspicious looking vehicle with no history and no numbers on it that could be traced. Tossing my bag in the back seat I then got behind the wheel and retrieved the keys from above the visor. Death was going for a ride.

Eyes Wide Open(Alex)

2005-12-15T14:01:00.000-05:00

After several days, Alex received a visit from the medicine man. He carefully unwrapped the bandage from around here eyes and tenderly wiped away the poultice that covered them. “Slowly open your eyes.” His deep voice sounded like a drum that cut through the silence. Everybody was holding their breath with expectation, including herself.

As instructed, she slowly opened her eyes. The little bit of light coming from a nearby lantern caused her eyes to burn but she fought the temptation to close her lids again. After what seemed like several minutes she finally looked at her surroundings for the first time but was disappointed to discover that everything was blurry. “What’s wrong? Why can’t I see clearly?” panic choked her voice and her heart felt as though it would jump out of her chest.

“Take a deep breath and try to remain calm.” The doctor’s voice gave her something to focus on and she relaxed a bit. “Now slowly look around and tell me what you do see. Describe it to the best of your ability so I know how you’re doing.”

Alex was surprised by the man’s use of words, his dialect was very different from those here in the village. She quickly pushed her questions aside and again focused her attention to the task at hand. Blinking her eyes several times in an attempt to clear her vision she began to describe what she could see. “The room is very dark but there’s a source of light coming from a table to the right of the room. There are three chairs at the table but I cannot make out the color or style just their shape. I can see a person standing by the wall close to the table but I can’t see who it is. It’s like I’m looking through fog. I can see shapes but not details.”

“That’s good. We didn’t know if you would be able to even see that much.” For the first time she noticed that there was somebody sitting to the left of her. He was rather tall even though he was sitting and his hair was a light color. “I want you to put this on your eyes twice a day.” He placed a smooth jar in her hand. “Leave it on for about an hour each time and hopefully when I come back in two weeks we’ll have some improvement in your sight.”

Alex muttered a “thank you” as the man stood to leave. He was accompanied by another person whom she figured to be her hostess. Turning to the right she found that the other person was still in the room with her. “Come closer, if you would, so I can see you a little better.”

There was a swishing sound that had become familiar to her over the past few weeks. “Are you Evilin?”

“Aye” came the mousey reply.

“Well, don’t go all shy on me now, not after all the time we’ve spent together.” Alex smiled warmly and reached out her hands towards the girl. Quickly Evilin scurried over, embracing her new friend in a hug.

“I’m so sorry that ya can’t see nothin’. What will you do now?” The girl had a flair for the dramatics as most girls this age do.

“I’ll do as the good doctor told me to do and hope for the best. What else can I do?” she ran a hand through her tangled hair absentmindedly and realized that she hadn’t bathed since arriving on this island. She wasn’t one to be picky but even she had her standards. “Evilin, is there a place where I can bathe?”

“There’s a little cove where the river runs into. It’s about an hours walk or so from the village. You can bathe there without fear of folk comin’ across ya.” Without being told the girl gathered up some items. Taking Alex by the hand she carefully led the way to the cove, chattering all-the-while about what life would be like in the castle.

They arrived at the pool of water just as the sun reached its peek. Even Alex with her blurry vision knew that this was a place of serene beauty. The moss and grass surrounding the body of water was a deep lush green and the ground was soft and springy. In the distance was the rumble from a waterfall that added continuous motion to the water. Birds sang from all directions and small animals scurried about in the underbrush that surrounded the clearing.

“I’ll leave your things on this here rock while you bathe.” Evilin placed a fresh set of clothing and a patched up towel on a large rock that was being bathed in sunlight. “I promised Mamma that I’d gather some nuts and berries for her. I’ll come back in an hour to get ya.”

Alex waited until she could no longer hear the girl before she undressed and entered the lukewarm water. It was very frustrating not being able to see clearly and she found that her head ached from the strain on her eyes. She decided to close her eyes to give them a rest heightening her other senses.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been floating about in the water when she heard the clatter of horses’ hooves approaching. Automatically her eyes flew open and she lowered herself into the water so that her nose was just inches from the surface. Anger welled up inside as she struggled to see the oncoming riders with no avail. Slowly she moved back towards the sound of the waterfall with the hopes of finding a hiding place. She didn’t make it before the riders came into the open, Alex could make out their fuzzy shapes but that was about it. Fearing that any movement would only draw attention to herself, she stood fast in her spot hoping to go unnoticed.

“We’ll water the horses here and break for lunch.” A deep voice sliced through the air scattering several birds that had been nearby. The riders dismounted.

“Luke, I think somebody’s here,” One of the riders had found Alex’s belongings on the rock and now carried them to the fellow addressed. “Either that or they ran away in their birthday suit.” A round of laughter broke forth from the four riders as they scanned the area.

“Have a peek around, Solo, we don’t want anybody stabbing us in the back while we try to eat.” Luke eyed the woods nervously. “Chewie, why don’t you take a swim, make sure there’s no creatures in the water that would want to ruin our party.”

“Why do I have to go in the water?” whined Chewie.

“Cause you stink!” came the answer which was followed by more laughter. “Now get going.” Taking the reins of two of the horses Luke addressed the other man, " Come on, Ben, help me take these guys to the water."

As the two men carried out their orders, Luke and his other companion proceeded to lead the horses to the water for a drink. Alex stayed fixed to her spot her heart pounding in her ears. Carefully sher turned around so that she could judge the distance to the waterfall or some other bit of coverage. Her stomach knotted as she realized she was still a good ways off. Scanning the water she looked for a rock or some vegetation or anything that she could hide behind but there was nothing. Quickly, she made up her mind to try swimming to the opposite bank from where the men gathered, maybe then she could slip into the woods unnoticed. Taking a deep breath she submerged herself under water and began to swim for the shore.

Remnant Adventure (Dusty)

2005-12-10T16:37:00.000-05:00

Quietly the shadow slipped in behind the warrior as he walked through the threshold. A flip of a psychic switch and the powers of the ‘gene joke’ on piano would have no effect. His emotions would continue to be his to command. Sliding into a corner booth as smoothly as water flows over glass it settled in for the night, lowering the heavy woolen cowl sewn in as part of the wanderer’s cloak fastened across the slight shoulders of the newcomer. As the person shimmered into the visible wavelength, Giron noticed Phae momentarily hesitate his counter patrol, but continue on as before.

“See, know he will I said,” whispered the small figure sitting lithely on her steed’s shoulder. Absently rubbing her lower ankle the faere settled in and watched as Phae went about his normal barkeep routine.

Flipping the towel down from his shoulder Phae was wiping down the bar when a slight presence tip-toed across his consciousness. Hesitating momentarily he resumed the never ending job of keeping things going for the lost souls that frequented the Serendipity.

Sipping the flagon of ale Dusty slipped back to that fateful day that he had first encountered the young human male that would become the only human he ever felt worth his effort.

Gently the great battleship, Miarason, drifted in the wind. Dusty gazed out over the endless snowy barrens that populated the northern boundary of King Geishlahan's empire. Behind, eleven other wind ships identical to this one drifted, only the sound of timber creaking and ropes whipping in the winds could be heard. Sailing through the canyons of Marlahaim province this task force was running silent toward an encounter with a recently completed fortress of the Mountain Trolls. The elves had two major concerns with this development. The first was the proximity to the northern elfish settlements of a troll stronghold and the fact that the fortress only took two months to be built. That short a time frame meant that majic had to have been involved.

Dusty scanned the horizon for any sign that the elven plan had been uncovered. It was well known that the Mountain Trolls were not typically adept at wielding majics, which just added to the trepidation surrounding the new fortress at Gatshimtol Pass. So the chances that they had divined the nature of the elves mission was remote, but the Gnomes had been getting rather cozy with the trolls of late and the gnomes were much in tune with ley lines. The elves were also known to employ Gnome healers to supplement the elfish priests so as part of every ships contingent there is a supplemental healer. This added another level of concern as the true loyalties of the gnomes were unknown to their elven associates.

Flying true west the Battleship formation would reach the stronghold a little after dawn which would put a fresh sun directly behind them. In the distance Dusty noticed storm clouds boiling to the west, directly in the flotilla’s path. Curiously the wind was at Dusty’s back.

“Dragon Storm, Dragon Storm!” Dusty yelled running toward the signaler on the aft of the ship. “Batten down the hatches!!”

Suddenly every ship in the task force was swarmed over as the soldiers each ship carried began the task of preparing to ward off the oncoming Dragon attack. Slowly each ship slowed its progress and began to descend onto a small cirque that had been chosen to fortify. As each ship landed a formation of two concentric circles took shape as each ship completed its link in the ‘chain’ the soldiers scrambled to hook and fasten the boats together as well as fastening wooden shields and bulkhead sections so as to form shields for the men and ships themselves.

Slowly Dusty’s ship landed in the very center of the fortified formation finalizing the shielding. As soon as the soldiers completed battening each ship’s compliment of battle mages began to chant protective wards over the flammable aspects of the defenses, men included. The end result resembled a huge turtle tucked away in its shell with the outer lip of the cirque providing cover to prevent anything getting up underneath the shell. Just as the round of incantations was finished the first wave of dragons swept over the ships unleashing volley after volley of dragon flame attempting to ignite anything in view. The living flames found nothing to adhere to and so ended pooling at the outermost edges of the elven fortifications and dripping down over the rocky ledges onto the surrounding mountainside down below.

“Stand fast men. Their mounts are only good for three runs each and then they’ll hafta refuel. When that happens the soldiers will landed and go hand to hand. Look for their gnome companions and take them out as soon as you can. For any a ya that have not been trollin’ afore listen up. When a troll is cut by elven blades the flesh that is cut starts to mineralize so avoid their blows while you hack away at their legs. Eventually they will be held fast cause they can’t move their legs when they get like that move on and then we’ll go back and cherry pick’em. Archers aim for those pitch black pits they call eyes, if’n they can’t see us we’ll be harder to hit When your quivers dry up go after the frozen ones with yer sabre’s” Dusty bellowed to his troops aware that the same directions were being given by the other commanders to each boats compliment of foot soldiers and archers.

“We won’t have the benefit of our own ‘chanters’, they’ll need to rest also.” Dusty learned long ago that elven majic was tied into life force and so as the majics were used up the wielders need time to rest as one would from physical exertion, too much exertion leads to torpor until said individual was replenished. The wards over the boats did an excellent job driving off the dragon fire but at a huge cost to those casting, in fact three soldiers from each ship had to be assigned to guard the depleted mages.

Wave after wave of dragon storm swept over the impromptu fortress. Just when the smoke and stench increased to almost unbearable levels the muted world outside the elven fire protective wards silenced much like that beheld in the ‘eye’ of storms. Breaking a seam Dusty peered into the soot smoke and checked the horizon for any signs of movement. Seeing no immediate threat he ventured out and climber atop the protective hatches of the nearest ship.
“Alright boys they’re gone and them flamers won’t be back until tomorrow. Lets pack up and head on.”, Dusty barked as he started to survey the condition of the ships. Two thirds of the way around the cirque the mountainside opened up for the last third and gave an unobstructed view of a small plain several hundred feet below. Dusty watched as the plain filled with a small army of trolls and other sundry forces.

‘Damn’ Dusty thought to himself taking a moment to try to estimate the forces gathering against them. ‘Looks like takin’ off is gonna be a pleasure.’

Introspective of a killer. (Quint)

2005-12-03T12:17:00.000-05:00

M-107 50 Cal. sniper rifle

The taxi delivered me to the Serendipity and I paid the driver giving him a generous tip for which he thanked me several times before he went looking for another fare. Standing in front of the familiar place I now called home I was looking for some little change, but there was none and I don’t know why I expected to see any. Maybe it was because the change was in me. Damn, I hated it when my mind took me to introspective examination, seemed I always ended up going in circles and never reaching any firm conclusions. As I put my hand on the door to push it open I hesitated a moment to listen to the soft piano music that was coming from inside; I knew who was playing and a flash of a happy memory flew across my mind making me smile. Maybe I should use my private entrance via the fire escape, but no, I was still sore from my wounds and, well, it wouldn’t hurt to just look at her as I passed through the tavern.

I eased the portal open and side stepped to the right stopping for a couple of seconds to let my eyes adjust to the dimmer light. It didn’t take long to focus on the scene in the bar where I could see a fairly nice crowd had come to ease their thirst and/or their minds. Caressing the piano’s ivories was the one I had expected and it was good to see her again, but I wasn’t of a mind to socialize right now, too many other thoughts had my gray matter occupied already. I saw other familiar faces scattered about the room including my ol’ pal Phae, I’d have to remember to pay my room and board before leaving again. I cut a straight course to the door that would give me access to my quarters topside, I didn’t rush as I didn’t want to draw attention to myself, but I didn’t diddle about either.

Back in my little room the first thing I wanted to take care of was a nice hot shower and I wasted no time getting into the rain locker. Afterwards, feeling a bit more relaxed, I decided to go ahead and shave so I moved in front of the mirror and prepared for the simple task, but looking at my reflection caused me to stand as still as if I were carved out of stone. It wasn’t what the Captain had told me to do that stopped me, it was the drastic change in my own appearance that set me back. Before my trip back in time my hair was salt and pepper, now it was completely gray, my eyes were now sunken deep with large dark bags beneath that were accented even more by the now gray eyebrows and my cheeks were hollowed looking and covered with mangy gray whiskers. It was a death mask that I was looking at, all except for my eyes, they were coal black and seemed to have a slight light in them of their own. Ripping my gaze from the mirror I checked my most recent wounds, most had healed and not even a scar remained as a memento, normal, but the injuries inflicted by Black were still tender and blazing red, almost as red as the ever-present circle in the middle of my chest. Thinking of Calib Black I looked back at the mirror and did as the skipper had suggested, it wasn’t at all difficult to substitute the reflection of Black for my own.

How long I stood there staring at the mirror soul searching I don’t know, hours at least for it was full dark outside when I finally forced myself away feeling miserable about myself and pissed at the skipper for suggesting I do such a thing. Reaching up over the bathroom medicine cabinet I took down a near full bottle of Diablo and gulped several swallows before lowering the dark amber container.

“Bull shit! Captain this is pure crap! I am what I am and that’s all that I am. Killing is what I do and those I target deserve it, I know they do, damn it. Just leave me alone!”

My reflection in the mirror made no reply to my outburst so I departed the bathroom and went to the main living area to get on some clothes, I then sat on the floor in front of my sea chest and taking out the necessary tools commenced disassembling and cleaning my weapons. About half way through the process I remembered the block of wood so getting up from the floor I retrieved the inconspicuous chunk of red oak from my coat pocket. One end of the block had a small blue dot and that was the starting point for the steps I had memorized for opening the puzzle. After going through the pushing and tapping sequence I gave the block a sharp twist counter-clockwise…nothing happened except that I got a large splinter in my hand. “Crap”.

I made several more attempts at getting the correct combination of pushes and taps and my reward was more splinters. Finally admitting defeat I took the block of wood and set it on the floor in front of my war chest and then taking my survival knife and using a pistol butt as a hammer I drove the point of the knife into the block with a lot of force, the loud ‘thump’ was probably heard down below in the bar, but at this point I didn’t really care. The block split open and I looked quickly at the half of the block that had a name printed on it in red, the letters on the wood smoldered and vanished as acid seeped from the wood to the surface where the name had been, a self destruct mechanism just in case the block was opened improperly as I had done. No matter, I saw the name if only very briefly, but it was long enough for I instantly recognized it and I smiled at the thought of getting to finally terminate this particular target. It was just a shame that the powers that be took so long about getting to this skum bag.

Removing layers from my war chest I finally reached the bottom where my eyes feasted on a work of beauty, the beauty that would put an end to a beast, my M-107 50cal sniper rifle, no, not a rifle, a work of art.

Questions to questions. (Quint, Edwardo)

2005-11-29T21:46:00.000-05:00

I made my way down the wooden pier toward the Sardine which I knew would be tied up at her usual spot. Every now and then a swab would nod his head toward me or left his hand in a greeting, but none spoke, only smiled and then returned to what ever it was they were working on. The slap of the water against the pilings and the cry of gulls was a relaxing sound to my ears and the salt water smell spoke to my mind of adventure and new places yet to be seen. But no, my days of wondering all over the world were gone, I’d already seen far too much and some of the sights I wish I could forget.

The Sardine appeared as if it actually gleamed, it was that clean and well maintained. On deck the skipper was busy coiling a line and humming a ditty softly to himself as he performed the routine task.

“Yo, the Sardine, permission to come aboard” I spoke in a normal tone of voice for I knew that Captain Edwardo was well aware of my presence.

“Come aboard, but careful ya track no crud on me deck” the skipper said softly as he continued coiling the last few feet of the half inch hemp line and then straighten up from his work to eye me casually as I came aboard.

“Let’s go below and have a drink and a chat perhaps for ya have the looks of a swab with somethin’ on his mind.”

The Captain didn’t wait for my reply, but proceeded below deck without giving me another look. No ribbing and no hassle, he seemed to be in a serious mood and that was well with me for I had serious and disturbing questions to put to him. Odd how he seemed to be aware of my mood though. I followed the ol’ salt below and sat myself at my usual spot on the blue padded bench attached to the bulkhead; the skipper had already retrieved the glasses and the bottles of spirits which he placed on the small table so softly that they made no sound. As he seated his self on his rack I undid the cap on the rum and filled his glass for him and then I took the top off the bottle of Diablo and poured myself a glass full of the fiery liquid. I did not replace the lids on either bottle.

We sat quietly for a good fifteen minutes, just sipping our drinks and glancing at each other on occasion as if waiting for the right moment to speak. During this time I noticed that Edwardo’s injured hand was now completely healed, only a slight reddish tinge to his skin remained of the mysterious injury he had suffered. Having seen the attention I was paying to his hand the Captain finally broke the silence as he refilled both our glasses.

“All right, Quint, what be on yer mind? Lay it straight out, we’ve been mates far too long fer ya to run a zigzag course with me” he said with friendship and concern in his raspy voice.

So, for the first time, I told the Captain every detail of what had happened to me, of being in a different time and place, fighting with antique firearms, facing a hired killer who was nearly as skilled as my self, and of the woman with powers that seemed ‘unnatural’. I also told him of the wounds, though not particularly serious, they were more painful and then any I had previously experienced and were even yet still tender and mending. I even told him that for the first time I felt what must be fear, fear that my adversary might actually kill me, something I had never felt before.

I had spoken for quite some time and the bottles were three quarters empty by the time I finished. The Captain never interrupted a single time as he gazed at me the whole time with unblinking eyes that shone with a bright inner light. When I fell silent we finished off what remained in the bottles and the skipper got up and retrieved two fresh fifths for us to indulge in. He reseated himself with a sigh and looked at me, rather he looked into me and then spoke as if a father speaking to his son.

“Quint, I believe you’ve told me the truth as I’ve never known ya to lie to me, at least not about anything serious, and I can see why ya be so concerned. No, I don’t thing yer crazy, least ways no more then usual. How ya moved to another time an’ place I don’t rightly know, but ya did and there be no sense in questioning the how of it.”

The skipper looked down at the table for his glass as he spoke of moving in time. Was it just coincidence or was he not telling me everything? No, of course he was and I’m just too suspicious for my own good. I focused on Edwardo as he continued.

“Now that Calib Black swab sounds a lot like someone I know. He be a hired killer and he surely sounds good at his work to have put lead in ya, probably the best there was at that time and place. Remind you of anyone?” the Captain asked giving me a half smile.

I took a drink and didn’t answer the question, instead I just replied “Continue.”

Captain Edwardo shrugged and then continued with his opinion on the matter. “The witch woman be obviously just what you think she is, a witch, and don’t snort about it. There be folks with powers that are far beyond yer understanding and a few even beyond mine” he said with a wink. “Any how, I think the important thing here is what YOU think, in particular what you think of Calib Black. Is he good or evil for doing what he does or is he neither, just a man doing a job? Think on it mate.”

“What the hell is there to think about, the bastard was out to kill me and nearly done it. Why should I care if he’s a good guy or a bad guy? Damn! I was hoping you could give me answers and you come out with nonsense questions. I stood up and paced impatiently back and forth across the cabin, a matter of two steps in each direction.

“Quint! Ya have chum for brains, but try to use that stinking chum fer something besides shark bait. Now sit yer barnacled ass back down and don’t ya even think about raisin’ yer voice at me again in anger. I’d hate to have to put ya in yer place, but if I must then permission is given to me to do so.

I threw myself back onto the seat and was rewarded by the sharp crack of my skull against the cold bulkhead. ‘Damnation’ I said under my breath as I didn’t want the skipper to think I was cussing at him. For some reason I knew the ol’ salt could tie my tail in a knot and I knew I would never lift a hand to stop him for I could never harm this man, never. Instead I looked at him somewhat puzzled by his last comment.

“What do you mean “permission is given”? Since when did you ever have to have permission from anybody to abuse me, ya old scalawag?”

Edwardo smiled now and the feeling of a storm immediately dissipated as he spoke lightly as if nothing had ever occurred.

“Never ya mind about that. What I want ya to do is go back to yer room at the Serendipity and look in the mirror and picture the reflection there as being that Black swab and then ya think about the question of good or evil. Quint, mate, some answers ya have to find fer yourself, I can only point ya toward the right course. Yer old enough to know I be telling ya the straight of it and ya knows in yer heart that I be right.”

Nodding my head in consent I headed for the open deck with the skipper fast on my hills. We shook hands at the top of the gangway and I made quickly to the pier, but the skipper spoke my name softly and I stopped and turned about to hear his words.

“Mate, be careful on the mission they be sending you on this time. The name in that block of wood has more danger fer ya then ya can imagine.”

“Yeal, sure thing” I replied. As I walked down the pier and didn’t give a second thought as to how the Captain knew about the block of wood in my pocket much less that it held the name of my next assignment. So many strange things had been happening to me here lately that it was a trivial matter compared to the other goings on. I went to the end of the pier and flagged down a hack.

Soul Searching (Will)

2005-09-25T23:22:00.000-04:00

The cave was about a two hour walk from the main village of Nordel and was nestled in among lush trees and flowering brush. The cave was virtually invisible to the naked eye unless one knew what they were looking for. There were torches in gold sconces lining the curved walls and a large fireplace was positioned on the back wall allowing the cave to be warmed during colder weather. An ornately carved round table was the only furniture in the place and this is where Will found himself quietly sitting as the council discussed some problem with something called the Beholder. Most of the discussion was foreign to him, there were things mentioned that he had never heard tell of before – driders, dracolythes, orcs, trolls – but there was one word he understood quite well – war. Will desperately tried to wrap his brain around this strange new world he had stumbled into but logic kept hindering his ability to absorb the information that was being presented to him. He found the cave that they had retreated to disturbingly bright and airy, unlike the ones he was used to exploring back home, which only further distracted him.

“William will ride out with Lith in the morning to gather the others.” Lutrol’s voice broke through the commotion in Will’s brain and he jerked his head back as if he had been struck in the face.

“Excuse me, Father, but did I understand you correctly? You wish me to take part in the preparations of this war but…”

Before he could finish Lutrol gave a small chuckle and smiled patiently at his son, “You will be doing more than just helping with the preparations, Son, you will be fighting along side me.” As if that answered everything he turned his attention back to the conversation at hand leaving Will completely dumfounded.

After several more hours of discussion and planning the council finally adjourned. Will lagged behind hoping to have a word with his father in private but was disappointed to see that the centaur was still chatting with the elf. Sighing, he reluctantly found his way back into the village, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his concerns.

There was much activity on the ground as the evening meal was being laid out in an elaborate spread on the forest floor in recognition of their honored guest. Will desperately wanted to retreat to the sanctuary of his room but knew that that would be frowned upon. Finding his place at the head table he sank down into his chair resting his chin in his hands.

“My dear brother, what has you so deeply troubled?” Emarl asked as she gracefully slipped into her chair next to him.

Will was touched by her concern but felt it better to hide his true thoughts until he could speak with his father. He wrote off his brooding to hunger and fatigue which Emarl seemed to believe willingly. Thankfully, any further discussion of the matter was put to an end with the arrival of the food and serving of the wine.

Will was not lying when he said he was hungry and he ate enough to prove it. Unfortunately, he drowned his concerns in the wine and was soon overcome with its euphoric effect. At the end of the celebration, Will was so severely under the influence of the elven wine that his cousin, Lith, had to help him up the ladder to the tree house for fear that the boy would fall to his death in his current state.

After sleeping for a few hours, Will awoke to the sound of muffled voices in the adjacent room. Groggily he got to his feet taking a moment to get his bearings and allow the drumming in his head to subside a bit. With a stealth that only an elf could claim he crept to his bedroom door to listen.

“Father, are you sure this is the best thing for him?” It was the voice of Emarl that came first to Will’s ears. “He’s a delivery boy, what does he know of wars?”

“I’m aware of what he did in the human world but that does not matter here. In Nordel he is a prince and therefore he will do this. He must earn the respect of the people.” Lutrol’s voice was firm and a bit agitated as if they had been on this topic for a little while.

“He is rather good with the bow,” Lith’s voice rang in with a note of pride for it was he that had taught Will this skill. “I would trust him with my life, Emarl. He is ready for this.”

“And what does he say about all of this? Did either of you bother to find out?” Emarl asked her voice rising an octave in her frustration to get her father to see the logic in what she was saying.

“I told you already that I didn’t get a chance to converse with him as I was preoccupied with Tavalox and then when the opportunity did arrive Will was already senseless from the wine.”

“I’m not now.” Will stepped into the room startling the trio. Although his eyes were still bloodshot and the hammering in his head persisted, his mind was clear. He knew that what he said tonight would shape his future forever.

“How long have you been listening?” asked Lutrol from his seat next to the smoldering fire.

“Long enough,”

“And how do you feel about the task at hand?”

Will looked into each of their faces and when his eyes came to rest back on his father he knew what he wanted to say. “I’ll admit that at first I was stunned by your appointment but now I realize why you did it. Whether I want the position or not, I am your son, and with that goes certain responsibilities. If I walk away from this, I will be haunted for the rest of my life. We’re not only fighting these dark creatures for the elves, but for all that is good and innocent. How can I turn my back on that? How can I say no?”

The room was silent, only the chirping of the crickets below and the song of the tree frogs could be heard echoing throughout the forest. After what seemed like an eternity to Will, his father stood up and embraced him. “No matter what comes of this, know that I am proud of you.” With tears in her eyes, Emarl joined in on the hug and for the first time the three were united.

Later that night, Will lay on his bed lost in thought. He was as much surprised by his little speech as the others had been but he knew that he had spoken the truth. His thoughts drifted to Alex as they often did and he felt a pang of guilt at having to postpone his search for her. But how could he even think of starting a relationship with her when there was a monster loose that threatened to destroy the very peace and happiness he sought.

Finally, his mind quieted enough to allow the boy a few hours of sleep before he and Lith would have to set out in search of others who would rally with the Elves of Nordel to fight against the evil of the Forest of Hereanafter.

Dusty Trailwalker

2005-09-16T11:36:00.000-04:00

The sweet sounds from the piano lazily drifted through the room. Casually the notes caressed the sundry patrons of the Serendipity, helping each into a place they individually wanted to be. Rosey played songs that seemed appropriate for the situations she observed from her elevated perch. Her being was such that not playing caused a build up of emotions that found release through the fondling of the black and white ivories found on a keyboard.

Casey just sat at this point waiting for either Mike or Gabe to reply in response to her story. She had just related to them the story of her banishment to earth as it related to the Great Rebellion.

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Dusky Trailwalker continued to walk the now muddy trail, as he had for the past twenty three days. Fortunately the rainstorm was only four days old. His elven cloak and dragon skin cap kept him relatively dry, but did nothing for the cold. He hated cold. It reminded him of his service as King Geishlahan's captain of the guard. Fifty seven years of dedicated service with only ice drake scars and several medals for winning a handful of skirmishes against the mountain trolls to show for it. The northern frontier was no place for an elf, let men guard those outposts. Elves are made for the forest and plains, with some even suited for the waterways of Urth. Regardless Dusky was now his own elf and could come and go throughout the lands as he wished, or so he thought.

The horses were upon him from around the bend before he really had a chance to react. Normally he would have heard them well before they saw him, but the rain and his preoccupation with the cold took all Dusky's concentration. Regardless th reason, the ditch from which he extracted himself was still full of cold water and a wet season's worth of gakage. Now from head to toe and from outside to bone Dusky was soaked. which only made the cold worse. King Geishlahan's was never like this.

Methodically he continued down the trail. Only now he was paying more attention to his surroundings. He did not recognize the garb worn by the horsemen, but men at arms were a dime a dozen in these troubled times. Whatever evil was afoot in the lands of Urth seemed to draw men from corners only talked about in stories, until now.

Slowly as Dusky topped a rise in the road an inn became visible through the rain and fog. He could also see a small village, half a day’s walk in a small vale beyond the inn.

" Friendly Waters", Dusky spoke as he read aloud the inn's placard. "We shall see."

Pushing the outer door open and then shut behind him Dusky was struck by two things first the smell of a delicious stew simmering over the fire and a fist that caught him square on the jaw .

" That's fer spookin' my horse ya damn sneak thief.", added the gentleman who'd stunned Dusky with a sound uppercut.

" Who the hell are you?", Dusky asked raising himself off the floor and rubbing his jaw.

"You damn near made my horse throw me back 'ere on da road."

"Well then let me apologize and introduce myself." Dusky said as he bowed slightly.

Suddenly Dusky pinned the man to the foyer wall with an arm across his throat while the other held a wicked looking dragon sabre below the man's nose.

"Name's Dusky Trailwalker, and I'll cut your heart out and feed it to you and your buddies if you ever touch me or another elf again." With that Dusky let the man down, sheathed his sword, and sauntered into the common room.

Ambling from behind the bar, Phae greeted the elf with a hug before he was half way across the floor.

“Good to see you again.”

“Good to finally have some down time Phae.”

“Have a seat. What can I get you?”

“Flagon of ale to start.”

“ We were sent to make sure you were ok, Casey. I think we have a report to give to Father.” Mike said as he pushed his seat back from the table and stood up.

“Don’t come back unless it’s my time guys. I’m here for the long haul and I won’t have you two poisoning anyone against me.”

Gracefully, hardly touching the floor the two ‘brothers’ left the warm confines of Serendipity.

“I’m glad I was able to find you.”

“I told ya I’d always be there Phae. What’s up?”

“I’m thinking to make some changes Duse and you can help with it.”

Nodding his head slightly in contemplation of his friend’s word Dusty Trailwalker swallowed the first slug of what will turn out to be an interesting round.

Tidings of Bad News(Will//Tavalox,Lutrol)

2005-08-20T23:55:00.000-04:00

Over the next few weeks Will spent his time learning as much as he could about his cousins and the elven way. Despite his desire to see Alex again, he was really quite content to be in Nordel. He had been told that time passed differently here, that what seemed like a week here is like a month in the outer world. At first he scoffed at this absurd notion but now that he was a part of Nordel, he believed that this idea could very well be possible. The weather always seemed too pleasant – just the right temperature, just the right amount of rain. The vegetation was so lush and green that he found one could sit idly gazing at the forest around him for hours taking in its beauty and serenity. Each evening he spent with his father and sister sitting around the fire place listening to elven folklore. The longer he was there the further away his other home seemed to drift, until it became nothing more than a memory or a place he sometimes visited in his dreams. Unfortunately, peace is not to be had by those who have yet to fulfill their destiny, and so, one day, William Paris’ time of rest came to an end.

While shooting target with several of his cousins a visitor came to Nordel. Will eyed the creature with much curiosity having never seen such a thing before – it was half man and half horse. He held himself with an air of importance, his dull brown hair glistening with the perspiration of his journey. The beast was accompanied by five other younger looking man/horse things, each in varying colors but all roughly the same size. Lutrol greeted them with a deep bow and escorted them to a nearby spring where they could refresh themselves. Will would not see them again until later that evening at a feast that was to be held in their honor.

Of course, Will wasted no time in asking his cousins several questions about these strange visitors. He was surprised to learn that they were centaurs from the Forest of Hereanafter, the eldest one being none other than Tavalox, chief of the centaurs. Even the elves seemed surprised by his visit and all were curious to know the reason behind it.
Will found the history of these creatures rather interesting. He was also relieved by their presence for it proved that Alex had indeed spoken truthfully about her experience in the forest. A chill ran down his spine as he recalled the other parts of her story in the forest and in the mountain; he felt an overwhelming urge to wrap his arms around her and protect her from any more harm. As always when his thoughts strayed to the young ‘cowgirl,’ he felt a pang in his heart that tore at his very soul. Shaking his head to clear his musings he resumed his bow practice with his cousins, pushing aside the foreboding feeling that had settled like a rock in his stomach.

*******************************************************************

“I welcome you and your companions to Nordel, great Tavalox.” Lutrol gave a low bow to the regal guest. “If you wish I will personally escort you to the spring where you may refresh yourselves after your long journey.”

“Thank you, Lutrol” the aging centaur gave a slight nod of his head in respect of the elf’s royal position. “You may forego any further formalities; after all you are one of my oldest and dearest friends.” Lutrol gave a warm smile, but still took his guest personally to the stream leaving instructions with some nearby elves to bring food and drink suitable for the centaurs to the water’s edge.

After the centaurs had bathed and eaten Lutrol felt it appropriate to ask why the ancient centaur had came to Nordel.

“Serataom has died but before doing so she made one last reading of the stars.” Tavalox turned to his companions and instructed them to return to the main village and mingle with the elves. Once he was sure that they were out of hearing range he repeated what Serataom had last said.

“The half-breed has returned home at last and will soon learn his fate. The stranger has sailed to a new land where she will face her past once and for all . . . .

The warrior has challenged himself and has walked away the victor of that battle. However, the dog and cat still fight. Who shall win is shrouded in fog. . . .”

Lutrol sat quietly for a few moments, pondering the strange words. “Who is the ‘warrior’?

“We don’t know. I haven’t heard or seen any great warrior but I have my eye on a few possibilities – one of which is a young boy with blue tattoos on his head. He proved to be quite a fighter at a raid that took place several months ago in a little town. Of course warriors can fight in many different ways, not just physical.”

“Mmmm. And the half-breed?”

“We believe this to be your son.”

Lutrol looked into the faded blue eyes of the centaur, trying to see if he was serious. “Surely there are many other half-breeds out there. William can’t be the only one.”

“This is true. But he is the only one that returned home at the time of this reading.”

Lutrol rubbed his chin for a moment in contemplation. “You’ve never put much stock in the stars before, why now?”

The old centaur gave a soft chuckle, “I never have been able to slip anything past you, dear elf. The truth of my visit is I came to give you news of our leaving. Even as I sit here with you the herd is moving to a new forest.”

The elf stared at his friend in astonishment. “Leaving, but why? With you gone the creatures of the forest will have no boundaries.”

“They have already left their boundaries. The Borg was so outraged at the escape of two of his slaves, one of which I believe was an elf, that he has declared war on all creatures that refuse to do his bidding. I am too old and tired to go to war. My herd has thinned enough; I do not wish to shed their blood on a futile cause when I can find peace elsewhere.”

“But with you gone the humans will be at risk…”

“The humans don’t even know we exist. They do not follow the treaty that was put in place so long ago. Just this past year we have had five known violations. All were peaceful and innocent enough but it’s just a matter of time before they claim the forest as theirs as well. No I do not wish to do battle; the time of the centaur has passed. We will do as your kind did and retreat to a distant forest where in time we can pass into the mists and be forever more separated from the outside world.”

“We are separated yes, but we still fight for what is right. The Borg cannot be left unattended. It must be stopped before his forces leave the forest. It is an evil that cannot be left unchallenged.”

“And who will stop him? It will take more than the elves of Nordel to accomplish such a task.”

“We will have to ask the humans for help…”

“Ha! The humans don’t even know we exist. If they see you they will laugh and turn you into one of the freaks in their bizarre circuses.” The centaur got up from his comfortable spot under the tree and walked to the edge of the water. “If you are wise, you will stay in Nordel and allow the fate of the outer world to take place.”

Lutrol looked at the centaur with sympathy. He could now see the specks of gray streaking his back and hind quarters, see the wrinkles lining his face. He was indeed ancient and this would be a young person’s war to fight. “You do what you feel you must. I pray that the gods grant you the peace and sanctuary that you so desire. Let us put aside this burdensome talk for now, for my elves have prepared a fine feast in your honor. Come let us join them and enjoy some lighthearted fellowship tonight. Tomorrow we shall meet with my council to see what can be done about the Borg.”

Together the two aging leaders entered into the heart of Nordel where they found the tables already loaded with their delicious burden and the beautiful music of the elves enveloping the forest around them.

A Son's Wrath(Will)

2005-08-17T15:57:00.000-04:00

Will wandered alone in the forest until exhaustion overtook him and he collapsed in a small glade. Alone with only nature, he allowed his thoughts to drift wherever they chose. Closing his eyes he surrendered his spirit to sleep bringing an end to the confusion.

He wasn’t sure how long he had slept when he heard soft footsteps coming towards him; without looking he knew that it was his father that approached. “Am I expected to stay here then, to be prince?” he spat the last word as if he had tasted something bitter.

“Of course not, you are free to go just as you always were.” Lutrol spoke with compassion despite his son’s sulky expression. “You are prince by blood and that is all. It must be your choice to lead the people.”

“And if I choose not to?”

Lutrol was secretly pleased at this question for it showed that William was indeed bonding with the elves of Nordel just as he had hoped. “Your sister can rule in your place. You will find that we are not a complicated people, we accept things as they are.”

Lutrol took a seat on a soft patch of moss so that he could be level with his son. He did not like to make others feel inferior which was a hard task given his height. “I know that you wish to leave soon in search of Alexandra but you must not go just yet.”

“But you said I was free to leave…”Will’s face contorted in anger.

Raising a hand to silence the young man, Lutrol continued “There is something that she must do first, without you, and that time has not arrived yet. Just as you must learn about your past, so must she. Alexandra has her own tests to pass but I assure you that she is safe at the moment.”

“How do you know this? Have you seen her?” Will looked past his father into the woods expecting to see the girl standing in the shadow of a tree. Although he knew he would not find her, he still felt the sting of disappointment.

“We elves have a way of keeping abreast of things in the world. No, I have not seen her and the one that has is already gone. Ask me no further questions regarding her for I cannot answer you.”

“Can’t answer me, or wont?” Will sprang to his feet and began pacing, all of his anger and frustrations rising to the surface. “Who do you think you are, spying on us? You left, remember? When I wanted to be a part of your world, you were gone. And now you say I’m to one day be ruler of these people. I don’t owe them or you a thing!” He marched off through the woods with the intent of gathering his belongs to leave. His rage being further fueled by his father’s silence.

However, upon reaching the tree house his resolve wavered and he stood looking down at his simple bed wondering what to do next. Emarl looked with pity at the young man who was being torn in two. “We watch everybody, not just you and her.” Will spun around startled. “We have to watch what goes on in the outside because some things effect us. Nobody is asking you to become king, and nobody will blame you for not doing so. But why leave? You came here looking for answers and wanting to learn more about your elven heritage. Why abandon that quest so soon? Stay, learn, you may never have this opportunity again.”

Will looked down at his feet feeling embarrassed by his childish behavior. “What about Alex?”

Giving a sympathetic smile Emarl replied “Alexandra is where she needs to be right now.”

“You sound just like him.” They shared a chuckle at this comment thus diffusing the tension in the room.

Lutrol arrived home shortly after and only nodded his head in approval of his son’s decision to stay. He retired to his sleeping chamber without speaking a word to either of his children.

“Is he mad at me?”

Emarl heard the hurt in Will’s voice and knew without a doubt the he would be king one day. “No, just tired. Remember, we are elves; we do not waste time on such dark emotions. It is better to accept what is. How else could we live hundreds of years in peace and harmony?”

Will nodded his understanding but still felt sure he had angered Lutrol. Feeling too tired to debate this with his sister, he simply bid goodnight and disappeared behind the curtained door to his bedroom.

Alpha

2005-08-08T11:58:00.000-04:00

Maxson and Shelby are out trying to enjoy some shopping. Recent missions had seen the two in the Middle East, Siberia and a secret military base on the dark side of the moon. Now they just wanted to relax and enjoy a little of what they bust their butts to protect.

“That one's hot", Mac said approvingly to Shelby as she modeled one of the season's new bathing suits.

“It might look good, but this floss is a pain in the ass.” she replied trying to adjust the bottom of the neon two piece suit.

“Fine, take it off."

“You wish.” she shot back ducking into the changing room.

“I like that one and the patriotic one. I'll be back in a sec. I want to check on somethin'.", Mac said as he stood up and left the communal waiting room that was ringed by different changing booths.

Mac was desperately in love with Shelby and always focused all his available attention on her. His Centre training taught him to access his subconscious in order to be aware of his surroundings. His subconscious is what prompted him to check out the main floor. Slowly parting the beads Slipstream entered the boutique proper. A mental switch and his mutant engine was slowly powering up.

Thousands of miles away Slipstreams' powering up is noticed by several human monitors aboard the Centre satellite.

“Colonel Bragmore, Slipstreams' powered up.", one of the monitors spoke into an intercom attached to his headset.

“Roger that, on my way", the Colonel replied as he placed a bookmark in his book and tossed it onto his bed.

As the presence of super powered beings in our world became more and more a reality the US "power's that be", settled on two things. The first was that in order to keep up it was necessary to catalogue all those beings within it's auspices that possessed metanatural abilities and select some to work for the good guys. The other was the need to establish an organization to control those catalogued. The Centre was that organization.

Looking around with both his eye's and his subconscious Slipstream couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Feeling around one more time he went back into the dressing room area, but not before he upped his stored energy a couple levels.

Slipstream knew that the subconscious didn't lie. Pressing a subdural throat mic Slipstream spoke to Timeslide. “Shelby, stay cool, somethin's goin' on."

"What is it?” she asked carefully adjusting her latest outfit.

"Not sure, but my head itches.” he replied referring to the trained subconscious all Alpha agents had.

"What do ya wanna do?"

"Nothin', it's probable just me. Now step out here and lemme see some ass."

"Sir, he's up to five.” the monitor informed the Colonel as he entered the "bubble", nerve center of the Agency satellite.

"Five! Dammit what's he doing?"

"He's with Timeslide, sir"

"Put Blink on hold."

"Blink sir?"

"Do it, soldier!"

"Done sir.” the corporal replied as he entered the code in an alpha-numeric keypad.

Unbeknownst to all but a few in the United States the "cold war" is still going full steam, within our own borders. The activation of agent Blink can only mean "they who must be obeyed" intend to use him. As such several individuals within our country are made aware of this intent. One of them is the current director of the Centre for which Alpha team is answerable to. Blink is a bio-engineered construct that can permanently shut down the mind of humans with met normal abilities. To Rion Brogan this meant that someone was about to get eyebrow deep in some serious shit.

"O'Donnell, gimme a roll call.” Brogan asked as he slid into the seat next to Janet van Deem, the communications officer on duty. “Wait a minute, where’s O'Donnell? Deem, I thought you were third shift?"

"It's van Deem. I transferred up.", she replied as the monitor board showed all agents accounted for except two.

"Where are Shelby and Maxson?"

"Seventy-two hour leave, sir.” she replied activating the tracer that all agents had implanted into their spines.

" Locate..."

" Got 'em sir."

"Send Cory to run cover."

"She's a Sigma sir."

"I know. She's due for a raise. Dispatch and feed her the info in route."

"Yes sir."

Shelby continued trying on various swimsuits as Maxson, with a critical eye, critiqued each and gave his opinion. The itch in his head ever present but no more insistent then his original impression.

Outside the dressing rooms business in the boutique was at its daily height. Casually Cory made her way around the shop, watching for the clerks, any apparent hostiles, Timeslide and Slipstream, and the ever present telepathic recorders. Not necessarily in that order. Cory thought it weird that the Centre seemed to always have their recorders in place for every mission. The recorder's job was to maintain a telepathic link between the agents and observers at the Centre. Thereby nullifying the need for any immediate communication between the two. Despite her efforts Cory didn't notice two newer arrivee's, both of whom will quickly change this boutique's "normal" business.

"Can we go?", asked Maxson seeing Shelby emerge from her overused changing booth.

"Yeah. I got a couple.", she replied indicating her preferences by throwing those chosen across the small waiting area into Maxson's face.

"Good, let's blow this popsicle stand."

Attempting to lead Shelby to the register Maxson didn't notice the slight waver behind the counter ahead of him, but the clean cut, athletic gentleman browsing near the front of the store did catch his attention.

"Here, you pay.", Maxson said handing Shelby his wallet.

The itching in his head had increase a bit when he noticed the gentleman in the "woman's" boutique, alone. As Shelby paid for her stuff Maxson continued to probe the immediate surroundings with his subconscious. It was then he felt a stirring behind the counter, too close for comfort.

Drawing on his power Maxson was about to adjust the "reality" of whatever was there when a rapid succession of things occurred. Just seconds before ,Cory had also noticed the athletic gentleman, out of place in the shop and approached him believing him to be someone she knew as well. Closing to the appropriate distance she reached out to touch him on the shoulder. When she did so it startled him slightly lessening his concentration. This in tern altered the region of Maxson's brain that Blink "turned off", causing Maxson to collapse rather then fall into a catatonic state. At that precise moment Maxson, using his hand to direct the release of the "order energy" that was his to command, attempted to resolve the itch in his head. Shelby vanished and Maxson hit the floor unconscious.

The instant Shelby disappeared the Centre's telepathic recorder, Algae, initiated the sterilization protocols that comprised the secondary parameters of its programming. Everyone in the boutique was mind wiped of the preceding two minutes and immediately desired only to go home and sleep. Algae also called in a Centre first line team, whose job it was to isolate and sterilize the area effectively hiding from the general public the fact that super beings did exist and operated among everyday people.

"What the hell happened?", Brogan asked occupying the terminal next to Van Deem.

"I'm not sure sir. Everyone is accounted for except one. That one is only on tape half the time."

"Half the time?"

"Here, see if you recognize the signature", Van Deem replied calling up the telepathic recording Algae made of the incident

As the tape advanced all the images were moving normally except one. The image from behind the counter seemed to skip frames, almost as if it were blinking in and out of the picture.

"That one's using some type of temporal cloaking device. Half the time they are now and the other half a couple seconds in the past or future. It makes the user invisible and able to instantaneously teleport elsewhere. The technology I recognize the user I don't.

Deep Water

2005-07-28T16:29:00.000-04:00

Alex awoke to the crying of a baby somewhere in the distance. She wasn’t sure whether it was day or night but she knew that she couldn’t sleep any longer. Carefully she got to her feet, remembering to stoop down so as not to bump her head again. Running her fingers over her clothes she was able to take inventory of her belongings. She found that her holster was empty and that once again she was without boots. For all she knew her things could be lying in a corner of the room but she just couldn’t see them. With outstretched hands she made her way tentatively through the room with the hopes of finding her way outside.

She let out a scream of pain and surprise as her foot stepped on something hot, no doubt she had just wandered into a fire pit. She hopped backwards bumping her head on another beam. With one hand holding her burnt foot and the other cradling the lump already forming on the back of her head she was quite a spectacle to see. Just as two women rushed into the little hut, Alex tripped over a basket and fell with a thump onto the dirt floor causing another cry of pain to escape her.

“’Ere ya go dear, take me ‘and.” Alex felt a rough calloused hand encircle her own thin one and with a slight tug she was back on her feet. “Now let me ‘ave a look at ya. Ya shouldn’t ‘ave gotten out of bed withou’ proper ‘elp.” The rough hands were very gentle as they examined her foot and head. “Not burnt too bad, lucky for you, you didn’ fall in the fire. Ya’ve got a nasty lump on the ‘ead but you’ll live.”

“Look at the mess she made, ma” Alex could tell by the voice that it was a young girl who spoke maybe of 10 or 11. She still had the high pitched voice of a child but was old enough to be her mother’s helper.

“Shh! Mind yer manners, Evilin, the poor woman can’t see.” The girl went about straightening up the room grumbling under her breath.

Alex strained in frustration to see the people who were in the room. She reached up to rub her eyes but found that there was a cloth bandage over them. She was about to undue the wrap but her hands were gently stopped. “Ya best be leavin’ that be, miss. Let the salve do its job, ‘opefully ya’ll get some of your sight back.”

Alex dropped her hands pliantly into her lap. “Where am I? What happened?”

“She’s stupid and blind!” came the quick retort from Evilin. There was a loud smack and without even seeing it, Alex knew that the girl had been disciplined for her remark.

“Overlook the girl; she thinks she knows everything now that she’s to soon be married off to the king. She’ll be wife number four but at least she’ll ‘ave food.

As for where you are – you’re on Antipodes Island. From best we can tell, a storm came up and the ship was pushed onto the rocks a ways to the north of ‘ere. ‘Ow ya survived is a miracle but ya washed up on shore tied to a beam from the ship. ‘Aven’t seen any others from the vessel but that’s not to say that they’re all dead. Maybe just washed up on a different part of the island.”

“Capin’ there’s a storm a brewin’. Best start battin’ down the hatches.”

A shrill whistle resonated throughout the ship as the warning was passed to make ready for rough seas.

“Ya best get below decks, miss. Tie yourself to a beam incase we take a wave or two. Don’t want our only passenger getting washed overboard.”

“Capin’, it’s gonna be a spinner.”

On that word the boat came alive with crew members running to and fro, strapping down anything that moved. Those that were not needed on top moved with Alex below decks to tie themselves to anything that would float and not move.

“Here ya go, miss, I’ll give you a hand.” One of the galley workers who had been so kind to Alex on the voyage set about tying her to a beam. He had just finished when there was a loud crack as a wave hit the side of the ship causing it to rock viciously from side to side. The man would have gone flying through the air but Alex grabbed him. “Thank you, miss. Now that I’ve got you secured, I best see to myself.” That was the last time she ever saw any one from the boat again.

In a matter of seconds the ship was being tossed about by the vicious storm. There was an earsplitting crack as the vessel struck a large rock. Water filled the haul of the deck and panic welled up inside of Alex. She struggled with the knot that secured her to the beam; if she couldn’t get loose she would drown. Suddenly the upper deck broke away and her beam was loose. She was afloat in the icy water, rain pelting at her face. A wave flipped her over causing her head to strike a rock that was just below the surface. Darkness mercifully enveloped her so that she was unaware of the punishment her body endured from the great sea.

“I remember,” she whispered

“Wha’ was that, miss?” The woman paused a moment in her cleaning to look at the patient who had been forced upon her.

“I remember the ship wreck.” Looking in the direction from which the woman’s voice came she asked, “Other than my vision, is there anything else wrong with me?”

“Well, you ‘ave a nasty gash on your back, but from the looks of it, your back is used to pain. The rest are just scratches and bruises, nothin’ too serious. We’ve ‘ad a time of gettin’ your back to close, but I think it’ll do ya right now.”

“And my things? Did anything make it to shore?”

“You’re boots and the guns you were wearing are in safe keeping with the elders along with the key that was about your neck. Nothin’ else from your ship has washed up other than drift wood.” Alex was relieved to hear this bit of news although she would dearly miss her larger weapons; at least she had her pistols.

“Evilin, take the lady outside for some fresh air while I get us some food cookin’” The girl gave an audible “humph” but did as she was told. “Walk slow now; she can’t see where she’s gonin’”

Although the girl had a sharp tongue she had gentle hands and carefully guided Alex out of the hut. The air was damp and heavy with heat taking Alex’s breathe away. She could hear movement all around but nobody seemed to be in close proximity to them. Evilin carefully lead her to a log where they could sit down. “Where were you going, anyway?” The girl was much friendlier when her mother wasn’t about.

“Here actually.”

“Why would you want to come here?”

“I’m looking for an old friend.”

“Who is it? Maybe I can help you?” The girl was all too eager for an adventure of some kind.

Figuring it couldn’t hurt to ask, specially seen as how she couldn’t exactly look for the man herself, Alex answered, “Jake Small. At least that’s what name he used to go by when I knew him.”

“Why that’s the king!” Exclaimed the girl.

Alex hoped she masked her reaction to this bit of news. “This might be more difficult than I had thought.” She would bide her time here for now, at least she was on the right trail but she needed to gather more information and devise a plan. “If only I could see!”

Alpha

2005-07-26T09:54:00.000-04:00

"Sir, I have the readings you requested on Matrix.” a young lady said as she entered a rather lavishly decorated office.

Slowly the sole chair in the room spun around revealing a young gentleman holding up his first finger in the universally accepted "hang on" gesture. The look on the young lady's face changed from enthusiasm to something else as she waited for him to finish his telephone call.

"Camille I enjoy your enthusiasm but your decorum could still use some work.” he said as he hung up the telephone with one hand and extended the other across his desk.

Quickly she handed him her PDA.

"These are very interesting. Well done.” he said more to himself dismissing her with a wave. As she opened the door to his office to leave he stopped her.

By the way, you’re Fired!!” he screamed as he caused her total incorporation with a slight mental twist.

"Jaime"' he directed at his intercom.

"Yes, sir?"

"I need a new assistant."

Several months ago Thermo had been assigned a hit and run mission. As the only survivor he returned beat up and under suspicion. This was the last "desk" assignment he had to finish before he was reassigned as active. Tonight he was to evaluate and recommend the aptitude of a Sigma agent, Mydnyte. Collecting a headset recorder and a handheld tracker, Thermo walked across the hall from where his desk was and entered the mission room.

"Where you off to? asked Janet van Deem, Thermo's current love interest and third shift communications officer for Alpha.

"I've got a baby sitting assignment.” he mumbled as he stepped into one of the transport tubes.

"Luv ya, good luck.” she replied hitting the pneumatic switch for Thermo's tube.

Suddenly Thermo shot through the tube to the upper part of the complex and out a concealed hatch below the ring of gargoyles that decorated the top most portion of the building.

Flipping the recorder's switch with a movement of his right ear Thermo began to record the evening's events.

"All rightee then. Nice calm evening. Weather report says it's relatively warm, hard for me to tell since my temperature stays constant, but it looks warm. Now let's see if I can find this bitch and get this shit over with.” with that Thermo kicked up the wind current propelling him through the air. Thermo was born with the ability to control the various phenomena we lump together as weather. He could alter to his advantage everything from winds and moisture to lighting, so far. His abilities had only manifested themselves five years ago so there was probably more he could do, but he was fast losing interest. The major aspect of his current training regime involved exploring creative uses for his talents, rather then honing what was already present. So far not much had been achieved.

"Files say she likes to hang out on the dockside of the waterfront, guess I'll try there first."

After several hours of patrolling Themo spotted his quarry perched atop a water tower. Just as he settled in to watch he spotted a white BMW slow down on the street below.

"I've found Mydnyte. She seems interested in a white BMW that's slowing down on the street, plate reads "Titus". Damn, that's the Renegade's top dog. Wonder what's up? Wait a minute, where'd she go? There she is. She's down on the street trying to help two girls that got pushed out of the car. Now we'll see what she's made of. There are eight Renegades; the two that were runnin' point just grabbed the two girls. Two other guys, one with a handgun and one carrying a sword just broke away from the pack and are approaching the girls. Mydnyte just melted into the shadows and is attacking the two guys holding the girls. Damn, she just...wait a minute...she just ripped out the dudes' spines. Okay, now she put herself between the girls and the rest of the Renegade pack. The girls just ran down the street. They'll be all right. The dude with the sword swung and broke it on Mydnyte's arm; she must have increased her density. Dude with the gun just shot his buddy tryin' to hit her. Damn, she impaled the sword guy with her arm. This bitch is bad to the bone fellas. Now she's lit into the rest of the pack. They're fallin' one by one, look's like it's about over. Wait a minute there's one dude left and he's big, must be Catafalque. Reports said to watch for him. Man, he just swatted her across the street and through the wall of that building. She's up, looks to be okay. He tried to get her again but she melted away and popped out on the firescape above him. She tried to impale him through the top of his head, guess she doesn't know he's an android. It didn't work so she melted into his shadow. She just severed his left leg with her hand. Now she's just standing there. Catafalque just jumped at her and missed. Wait he hit her with a laser, hit her in the hand. And he just activated his teleporter. Damn, she just looked right at me and mouthed she hoped she got a good grade, she knew I was here the whole time."

Thermo started his flight back to the Centre at a leisurely pace so he could have his report ready by the time he got back.

"I don't think she'd have any problems with a sanction mission, but the personality profile and several of the intangibles don't mark her as being ready yet. It won't be long though, it won't be long."

Darkness(Alex)

2005-07-17T21:05:00.000-04:00

Never had she been so happy to see land before. After spending the last four months aboard an ever moving vessel, her legs seemed unwilling to walk properly on the rocky soil. Her traveling clothes hung loosely about her for she had lost a bit of weight due to the inability to keep any food down. If it weren’t for the galley cook’s fowl tasting concoction, she surely would have starved to death. As quickly as she could get her travel weary body to move she parted ways with the captain and crew of the merchant ship and headed in the direction of the only town on the island.

While following the well worn path that led to the centre of Antipodes Island, Alex took this time to observe her surroundings. There were large tropical trees surrounding the path with no hint of the foliage growing thinner. The girl was sure that if one strayed to far from the trail that they would get lost for sure. However, she was certain that the natives of this island could navigate within the dense forest quite well; as she had observed such confidence in the Indians who could navigate the vast wilderness of America. Several times she paused to allow strange animals the right of way across the path. Not being sure of which were poisonous, she thought it best to stay clear of all creatures. A heavy mist hung in the air with no sign of reprise blocking out the bright sun and leaving only a glow in the sky in place of its blinding light..

Without warning the trees vanished and in their place stood a town. Not just any town but a town that was all too familiar to Alex – it was her home from when she was a little girl. She stayed on the path, fearing to move onto the dusty road in front of her. “This has got to be some kind of dream and I’m still on that rickety boat.” She pinched her arm as her mother had taught her to do when having a bad dream but the vision before her eyes did not waver. Cautiously, she stepped out of the safety of the forest into the town’s street. Walking slowly as if there were led in her boots she made her way to the wooden slat sidewalk and as if on cue the town sprung to life.

Men on horse back rode up and down the street, tipping their hats at the ladies who bustled along the sidewalk to do their shopping and gossiping. There were carriages containing farm equipment and supplies. A few scraggly dogs barked and jumped around a group of children playing in a side alley. From one of the buildings a jovial tune was being played on a piano and without looking for it, Alex knew that a saloon was on the left side of the street smack dab in the middle of all the buildings. Further on down the walkway she found the little hotel with it’s name painted in big red letters across the front window “Alby’s.”

“Even the names are the same,” she whispered under her breath. She took a seat on a simple wooden bench that sat in front of the mercantile for she feared that her legs might give out from under her. As she watched the people going about their business she realized that the faces looked familiar. “There’s Mr. Frank… and Susie Bellars….” She followed the forms with her eyes, unsure of what was truly unfolding before her. When Mr. McCowin stepped out in front his shop to breathe a bit of fresh air, Alex reached out a tentative hand and touched his arm. Quickly she withdrew her trembling hand as if it had been burned for it was not thin air that greeted her touch but solid flesh and blood.

“Good day to ya, Miss Alexandra. And how are your folks doin’?” The red haired man gave her the same friendly smile that she had received a thousand times but instead of replying she could only stare with her mouth hanging open as if she were an idiot. “Are ya feelin’ alright there, lassy? Should I fetch Doc Backer?”

Alex shook her head “no” but the mercantile owner seemed none too convinced. “It’s this heat that’s got to ya. Let me get ya a cool glass of lemonade, the misses just made some not too long ago.” He disappeared within the store only to return with a glass filled with pale yellow water. “Here ya go, lassy, drink up.”

Her hands seemed to move of their own accord, taking the glass out of the puffy fingers. As if her soul had left her body, she could see the events taking place below her. She saw a young girl in pigtails drinking a glass of lemonade while the robust man looked on. Her breathing quickend as her brain fought the illusion before her. With a strength that seemed to come from someone else she forced herself to return to her body. Her spirit dove with such magnitude that it jolted the little girl causing her to drop her glass. Instead of the delicate thing splintering into a thousand pieces, it fell to its side with a thud and spun dizzily on the ground. The sound seemed to be as loud as thunder and shook the ground just as violently.

Alex startled jumbed from the bench, bumping her head on something but she couldn’t make out what for all around her was a deep blackness. She spun around, searching for the town in which she had just visited but the only thing she could see was darkness. She moved her hands carefully along the ground and was surprised to find that she was sitting on a straw mat of some kind. She willed herself to see but nothing would come to her. Panic seized her and she began to flail her arms about and scream as if she were a mad woman.

“There, there, child,” cooed a voice from within the darkness. “Lie back down. Your wounds aren’t yet fully mended.”

Alex looked in the direction from which the voice came and yet she could see nothing. “Why do you hide in the darkness? Show yourself.”

She could sense a presence standing next to her and felt gentle hands lying her back down upon the straw mat. “Do not fight the darkness child, it is here to stay. You must learn to embrace it – to move within it.”

Now she was more confused then ever. What did this gibberish mean? Where was she? But before she could ask her questions she felt the mist of the island still over her and she was once again in the strange town.

Alpha

2005-07-07T15:25:00.000-04:00

Desperately Baikal tried to shake the cobwebs out of her head. She had fought the Mime before and knew the he was not a "bad guy" with a conscience. Mime didn't let up when you were down, he'd beat the shit out of you until you stayed down.

Their previous two encounters had resulted in draws both were able to walk away from. Unfortunately as a "good guy", Baikal was supposed to allow law enforcement to escort Mime, not allow him to leave unescorted. The media tallied both battles in the "L" column for Baikal.
As her double vision slowly centered into one image, Baikal realized that Mime was nowhere in sight. Following the sights and sounds of violence she quickly found Mime attempting to relieve the munitions depot of its prime holding.

When Mime turned to leave the weapons bay, Baikal was waiting for him.

"You know I can't just let you walk out of here. Damn what a cliché.", she said slowly shaking her head at both the folly of the "villain" and at the crap the had just come out of her mouth.

"Whatever. I've kicked your ass two, almost three times.", Mime replied slowly laying the compound canister down so both hands were free.

"Let's do it!!", Baikal yelled raising both of her hands. Suddenly ten tendrils of blue-green water encircled Mime, connected by streamers to Baikal's fingers.

Casually Mime shrugged some tendrils off and stepped out of the rest.

"Man, you know with my biofield in tact you'll never get hold of me. But given enough time I'll get to you and give you the pimp slap of a lifetime."

Mime was a mutant born with the ability to surround himself with a self generated force field. Nothing short of unconsciousness could deactivate it against his will. Knocking him out was a little tough to do when you couldn't even touch him, as Baikal had found out in their previous encounters.

Now Baikal's power on the other hand was the ability to control water molecules in their liquid form.

Baikal threw a barrage of offensive and defensive obstacles at Mime only to find him slowed down at best. Slowly but surely he was going to get within arms reach of her and make good his threat.

Silently one of the shadows, to the right of our combatants, detached itself from the wall and carefullt watched the growing conflict.

" Hey waterboy, ya need some help?", the shadow asked in an innocently female voice.

" I guess.", Baikal replied, at which point she again surrounded Mime in watery tendrils. Only this time she exerted pressure in and slightly downward in relation to Mime's biofield. Tossing him into the air, much like a watermelon seed squeezed between someone's fingers.

Matrix then increased the polar attraction between Mime's costume and the wall. This along with the force of Baikal's initial squeeze sent Mime flying headlong into the wall. As he slowly slid down the wall's surface and into unconsciousness Mime's biofield also contracted and went out.

" Damn what was that?", Baikal asked as Matrix fastened a damper around Mime's neck.

"I just rattled his cage a little."

Already an expert a martial arts, Tanis Colby had agreed to sign on as head of security for the United States Strategic Weapons Initiative. Part of that posting was the agreement to undergo bio-engineering. That process in conjunction with her pre-existing mutant powers gave her the ability to increase the ionic or polar attraction between molecules of inanimate materials.

" I think I coulda taken him.", Baikal quipped as she lifted Mime's unconscious frame with a water hand like a waitress lifts a tray.

" Probably.", Matrix replied retrieving the compound canister.

" Even with help I finally got a "W"."

"Yeah one outta three ain't bad."

" It'll keep me in the lineup."

As Baikal and Matrix left neither noticed a female figure appear off to the left. Silently she glanced at a hand scanner and made an entry into a PDA she had withdrawn from her pocket. Nodding slowly as she looked around the room she stepped into a tear in the ether and disappeared.

Prodigal Son (Serataom//Will)

2005-07-01T22:56:00.000-04:00

The half-breed has returned home at last and will soon learn his fate. The stranger has sailed to a new land where she will face her past once and for all. One day the two shall cross paths again and their child shall be the one from the legends who will bring balance to the land

The one-eyed looks but is unable to see the answer that lies below the sea. The marked one is just discovering his power and soon will rise to the challenge at hand. The path finder is about to discover a new trail that will lead to great upheaval for those involved.

The warrior has challenged himself and has walked away the victor of that battle. However, the dog and cat still fight. Who shall win is shrouded in fog.

The angels walk on the earth looking for comfort and understanding. Free-will is sometimes an awful burden to bear.

“You speak nonsense, Serataom.” Salmurk paced back in forth wearing a path in the wild grass outside the village.

“It is all there in the stars, one need only to look” The wise horse-woman looked at her mate with pity. “Why do you dislike the sight so?”

“Too many people believe it and therefore make decisions based upon superstitions. The stars cannot save us from war and death. They cannot bring back the dead. You put too much stock into what they say and not enough in those who are here with you.” The large centaur pawed at the earth aggravated at having to explain his feelings.

The graying mare stepped lightly to her mate’s side and rested a weathered hand upon his muscular back. “No, the stars cannot bring back your son, or anybody else for that fact, but they can give us hope.” Brushing away a tear that threatened to spill over her lashes she left for the house leaving the stubborn mule with his thoughts.

Glottack met her as she approached her stoop, “Did you see it?”

“Yes, it was just as you said; she is the one.” Looking warily past the young stallions face she saw the shadow of death at her door. “You did right to aid her in her escape. The elves are also aware of who she is for they too have kept a vigilant. It will soon be your day to advise Tavalox for my time is running out. Maybe the Council will listen to you better than I. I have never had much power over them; Salmurk is partly to blame for that.” Seeing the concerned look on his strong angular face, Serataom smiled and patted the centaur’s cheek, “Do not fret so, I have lived a very long life. I have nothing more to offer this world. I welcome the chance to hold fellowship with those long passed.”

Serataom disappeared into the sanctuary of her hut. Respecting her privacy, Glottack sought refuge in the forest that he loved so much. He had been following some humans who had crossed into the forbidden trees. For reasons unknown to him, he did not alert Tavalox. Something about these men told him that they were best left alone to find their answers.

***********************************************************************************

Will sat at the high table during the celebration of his return. He felt as though he were the fabled prodigal son whom he had learned about in his mother’s church. He observed with great interest the casual way of these ethereal people. The younger elves were joined in a circular dance in the middle of the table settings while the older generation clapped in time to the whimsical music, all the while exchanging gossip of this young one or that. In the midst of all of this joy, he felt as though he were only half a person; the ever persistent ache in his heart told him that he would not be staying long in Nordel.

“Good tidings, Brother,” Emarl had slipped into a recently vacant spot on the bench next to him. The former occupant, one of his many cousins, had relinquished his seat so that he might partake in the merriment of a dance.

Will smiled shyly at the beautiful elven maiden. Her hair was the same color as his but that was as far as the similarities went. She had honey colored skin, green almond shaped eyes, small delicate features and slightly pointed ears.

“Do you wish to join in the dance?” she gave him a warm smile that showed off her high cheek bones.

“I don’t think I know the steps. Besides, I much rather watch for right now. It’s all so new to me still.”

The girl nodded in understanding. Picking at some grapes that were laying on the table she suddenly began to tell Will the story of her mother and his father.

“We elves do not marry as the humans do. The relationship between a male and a female is one of respect and necessity. Sometimes a couple may live together for a while, other times they go their separate ways after sharing an intimate bond; no thought is given to either, it is simply the way it is. During the Beltane fires Lutrol sought out my mother, Amarly, and I was the result of their union; it was the only time they ever shared such a bond. Unfortunately, she died during child birth and my aunt raised me as her own, a twin to her son. When I was old enough I left her house and came to live with Lutrol where he has treated me as kindly as any father.”

Taking up a goblet she sipped some wine and watched a game of hoop hopping being played by the younglings. After a moments reflection she added something that stirred Will’s soul, “Lutrol loved your mother, he still does, and he loves you. Do not think ill of him for the decisions that he has made for he had to leave. I do not know if you are aware that your father is the King of Ossiriand whose ancestry goes back to the First Age. If he had chosen not to come to Nordel our people would have scattered like leaves in the wind, eventually vanishing for all time.”

Will stared intently at the girl hoping that if he looked hard enough that something she was saying might sink into his befuddled brain. “Are you saying that you’re a princess?” He knew the question was stupid but her answer was necessary in order for him to comprehend the situation.

Suppressing a giggle, Emarl smiled and spoke to the young man as if speaking to a little child, “Yes, I am a princess and you, dear brother, are the prince of Ossiriand. This will all be yours one day if you so choose.”

His mouth suddenly felt very dry as if he had eaten dirt and the forest around him seemed to be spinning. The sounds of laughter and talking that had once been so pleasant now melded together to become nothing more than exaggerated noise. Rising clumsily out of his seat he stumbled from the table as if he were a drunk, muttering something about too much to think about. Emarl stood to go with him but Lutrol motioned for her to be seated. She couldn’t help but wonder if telling him the truth was such a good idea but Lutrol had asked her to do so. Her heart went out to the poor boy that was so lost to himself.

Dock dick. (Quint)

2005-06-02T20:00:00.000-04:00

As I cut a course toward the fishing pier I was in no great hurry for I wasn’t sure how Captain Edwardo would take to my tale of being in the past, I wasn’t real sure it actually happened myself. Maybe I had been in such bad shape that I’d been delirious, dreaming, or hallucinating. I’d seen some mighty strange and unbelievable things in my life and at the time unusual events were occurring I had learned it was better to accept what my eyes beheld and question it later, usually I didn’t bother to ask any questions, but this last little adventure was a whole new ball game. I don’t know if the skipper could, or would, enlighten me, but he was a crusty old salt and an encyclopedia of information when he wanted to be. Of course he might just laugh and then rap me on the noggin with a belaying pen to see if my skull were actually hollow.

Though my mind was occupied I was very much aware of everything around me and I would have had to been blind not to see the man in the dark sunglasses sporting a large splattering of gull crap on the right shoulder of his otherwise spotless black suit. I almost smiled at the agent’s ridiculous attempt to appear inconspicuous in a dark suit and Buddy Holly sunglasses while standing at the shore end of a working fishing pier, not a sight one sees every day in this neighborhood. Stopping about ten feet from the agent I spoke rather loudly in order to draw as much attention as possible.

“Hay! Are you one of those super-secret government spy men? You sure look like one to me with them dark sunglasses on and that black suit and shiny black shoes, can even see a bulge under your jacket where you probably have a real fancy gun of some kind. Who you spying on down here at the docks? Most of these sea dogs are kind of suspicious if you ask me.”

Turning his head one way then another to see who all had heard my outburst, there were several faces turned our way, the agent quickly closed the gap between us and stood trembling and red-faced in front of me.

“Damn it, you’ll pay for this I promise you!” growled the indignant man as he quickly looked around once more.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep dip-shit, and never threaten me. Now just tell me where Charlie wants to meet and then haul your slimy ass out of here” I said feeling a greater then normal dislike for this arrogant super-spy want-to-be.

This young fool was a rookie or else Charlie hadn’t properly briefed him for the idiot grabbed hold of my left wrist. What his intent was made little difference to me, my reaction was instantaneous, in the blink of an eye my right hand held the needle pointed tip of a stiletto to the base of the moron’s Adam’s apple. His grip on my left wrist opened ever so slowly and he swallowed noisily causing his Adam’s apple to bob which caused the knife tip to penetrate his skin ever so slightly and a small trickle of blood ran down his throat toward his sparkling white shirt collar. With my now free left hand I reached up and snatched the dark sunglasses from the agent’s face and dropped the shades behind me, a set of blue eyes opened wide in shock and dismay stared straight ahead not even daring to blink.

“Turn your head to the left” I hissed softly as I stared into the bulging eyes. “You see that fish hanging from the hook there split from head to tail? Next time you touch me that’ll be you. There’ll be no more warnings.”

Removing the threat from the shocked agent’s neck I stepped back and dropped the stiletto into my coat pocket and as I stepped back I was rewarded by the sound of the sunglasses crunching under my heel. The man in front of me heard it also, but he said nothing, it seemed he had learned something already. I glanced around and the faces that were turned our way and they all quickly found something else of interest to look at.

“Now let’s try this again. Where and when does Charlie want me to meet him?”

“He, uh…ah-hmmm, he doesn’t want to meet with you. He told me to just hand this to you.”

Presenting his right hand the agent opened his fist to reveal a small block of wood about one inch square and about a half inch thick, it appeared to be red oak and there didn’t seem to be anything unusual about it. I took the offered item and dropped it into the same coat pocket where I had stowed the knife.

“Go away, now” I stated flatly.

Without any further comment the man in black walked quickly toward the main road and I had to smile as I watched him go, he was holding his jacket lapel and speaking rapidly to it, very inconspicuously though.

I strolled out onto the pier and headed for the Sardine, the sound of water slapping the pilings, gull cries and creaking lines were comforting, or would have been if it weren’t for that very small piece of wood in my coat pocket. I didn’t mind doing a hit on an ultra-sensitive target, but the preparation was always drawn out and tedious. Oh well, goes with the territory I suppose.

The Road to Here(Will)

2005-06-01T21:35:00.000-04:00

Lutrol's chair

Father and son stood on the wooden ledge looking out over the expanse of the forest. “What brings you to Nordel, William?”

“I thought you would already know that.” answered Will sarcastically.

Lutrol smiled at his son’s obvious annoyance at having been spied on all these years. “I knew of your coming but not of your motive.”

“A friend of mine told me that I should make peace with my past before pursuing my future.”

“A wise friend,” the two stood in silence listening to the gentle rustle of the leaves and the song of the crickets. “Do you love her?”

Will looked at his father, startled by the question. “Love who?”

“The girl you’re following, of course.”

“How?As if in answer to his question the orange tabby cat appeared on the railing rubbing his furry body up against Will’s arm. “Can he talk?”

Lutrol gently stroked the cat’s back “of course he can, every creature can talk, you just have to know how to listen.”

Suddenly Will became agitated by the idle chit-chat, anxious to receive answers to his many questions “Why did you leave us? You broke mother’s heart. She was never the same after you left.”

Patiently, as if speaking to a small child, his father explained the circumstances surrounding his departure.

“The humans arrived in small numbers at first settling in one area and living peacefully with the native creatures but before long their numbers began to grow and they began to spread out, claiming more land along the way. The native creatures – centaurs, elves, unicorns, troll, and others – tried to live in peace with the humans but they are a greedy sort, always wanting more, until inevitably we went to war. There are no victors in war.”

His father motioned for the two of them to return inside the hut. Emarl had finished cleaning up from dinner and had retired to her bedroom for the night. Taking a seat in a chair made of twisted vines in front of the fire place, Lutrol continued.

“After years of fighting and with no end in site, the leaders of each race agreed to meet and devise a way to live together. The elves were permitted to come and go as they pleased among the humans, by allowing this we became mediators between the two cultures. Most of the native creatures left to find planes yet inhabited by humans and then of course there was the Forest of Hereanafter and the Mountain of Pastanpresent.”

“So the stories about the forest are true?”

Lutrol looked at his son with pity in his eyes, “You know so little of your own history. Yes, the stories are true as the girl you seek can tell you.” Will opened his mouth to question his father’s knowledge of Alex’s plight through the forest but decided against it.

“The creatures lived many years like this and during this time several mixed marriages came to pass, mine included, the elders knew that cross breeding like this was against nature and therefore began to devise a plan to leave, separating human and elf once in for all.

As with any change, it takes time and planning to make it happen, but with each passing year more and more half-breeds were being born. When the Status War began, the elders decided that it was time to go. If the humans could not live in peace amongst themselves, how could we expect them to live in peace with others? We were allowed to bring the half-breeds with us but the humans had to stay with their kind. Your mother and I discussed it for several days and in the end she wished for you to stay with her.” Picking up a stick leaning against the wall, Lutrol poked at the embers in the fire place.

“And just like that you left us?” asked Will indignantly.

“It was not easy but it was necessary in order to preserve the race. Elves were not meant to live among the humans. We live for thousands of years hardly aging at all, immune to disease and illness, where as the humans live for only a few years and their bodies are weak. By staying with them, we would inevitably bring an end to our kind.”

“What about the others like me?” He was curious about the other half-breeds having never known that there were others like him.

“There were no more than thirty off spring born to the human-elf relations, of these eight died in infancy due to malformations, three were aloud to come with us and the rest live among the humans as you do.” As if reading his son’s thoughts Lutrol added, “There is no need to concern yourself with them, for like you, they know nothing of their history. You are the first half-breed to seek us out.”

Will felt as if his head would explode if he received any further information this night, his mind was reeling with the task of trying to decipher all of this news. Seeing his son’s fatigue getting the better of him, Lutrol showed the young boy to a room at the back of the hut that would be his while he stayed in Nordel. Will quickly fell asleep on his moss bed dreaming not of his past but of his future.

Nordel(Will)

2005-05-27T20:26:00.000-04:00

Nordel at Night

“Ran, those two fellas are still in my parlor.” Nelly paced the kitchen floor holding the receiver up to her ear, “I’m not one to complain but if they want to stay any longer they’re going to have to take a room. I can’t get them to say a word. It’s as if they are in a trance or somethin’. Maybe they have to store up their energy from the fight, I don’t know.”

“Nelly,” cooed the voice on the other end of the line, “just let them be. I’ll come over in a bit and have a talk with them.”

Nelly seemed satisfied with her friends answer and hung up the phone to resume her cleaning. Other than the two men in the parlor she still had two rooms being used by some families that were waiting on their homes to be repaired. Life in the little community seemed to be back to normal after the horrible raids a few weeks back. Officer Riddles had been removed from his duties without a word of explanation which left plenty of rumors floating around. The new patrolman was a man in his thirties with a cheery disposition that suited the town just fine.

A tap on the kitchen door stirred Nelly from her thoughts; her dear friend had arrived just as she had promised. “Where are they?” Nelly showed her to the parlor and indicated a young man sitting on a chair next to an older man sitting on the couch. Ran walked confidently over to the two while Nelly hid in the doorway.
“For goodness sakes, Nelly!” Ran burst out with laughter causing Nelly to jump. “These are nothin’ but holograms. Haven’t you been in here at all?” Nelly cautiously inched her way into the room still uncertain of the situation. “And looky here, they left you some money too. You silly old girl.”

Finally seeing that there was no threat, Nelly burst into laughter as well. “I just thought they needed to meditate or somethin’ after that fight of theirs. How was I to know?” Ran reached down and retrieved the little device lying on the floor that was projecting the images; instantly the forms disappeared.

************************************************************************************

After traveling several days Will finally arrived at the mouth of the river that would take him to his father. Placing two fingers in his mouth he released a shrill whistle and then took a seat on a weathered log to wait. Just as the sun began to set over the horizon a small craft emerged from the mist, a lone hooded figure operating the ore stood in the stern. No words were spoken as young Will stepped into the little ferry taking a seat on a wooden plank in the middle of the boat. Silently the craft retreated into the mist slicing through the black water with little effort.

Will was greeted by his cousin on the far shore with a warm embrace. “How did you know I was coming?”

The blond haired elf reached down with his long slender hand and patted an orange tabby cat that was sitting contentedly at his feet. The cat purred loudly. “Come, William, your father awaits you.” Will’s smile quickly faded as a knot of apprehension formed in the pit of his stomach. “Relax; he’s happy to have you here, as are the rest of us. It’s been a long time coming.”

At a loss for words, Will followed his cousin into Nordel. There was no preparing himself for the sight that greeted him. It was simple yet beautiful all at once. Nothing sat on the beautiful fern covered forest floor, instead all of the structures were in the large trees connected by rope bridges and accessible by ground with ladders and rope. Will looked around but could find no trace of the other elves; they melded so well into their surroundings that he could be looking right at somebody and not even see them. His cousin did a bird call and without warning the forest became alive as the inhabitants emerged from the trees and brush.

The younglings ran up to Will full of questions and curiosity for he was the closest thing to a human they had ever seen. Will patiently answered their questions until they were fairly satisfied. Scanning the area he searched the ethereal faces for his father not even sure if he would recognize him if he saw him.

The crowd parted to allow a slender figure to pass. He had long brown hair flowing like silk down his back that was held in place by a delicate ornate head piece. His almond shaped eyes were the same dark brown color as Will’s and he knew without a doubt that this must be his father.

“Welcome, son.” he embraced Will with surprisingly strong arms. “I have waited a long time for you to join us. Come, you must be tired and hungry from your travels.” Will followed his father up a ladder that led to a large structure surrounded by a wooden platform on all sides. Will took a moment to view the area from his new vantage point. The beauty of the place took his breathe away as he watched the forest floor come to life with fire flies and lanterns. The paths along the tree tops were being lighted by torches and from the various houses a warm orange glow was being emitted through tiny round windows as families sat down for dinner.

Ducking inside the humble abode, Will was startled to find several other elves inside. “These are some of your cousins” his father gestured to the lot before him. A heavenly figure emerged from a side room that Will presumed was the kitchen. “And this is your sister, Emarl.” Will starred at the girl whom he had never met, trying to register his father’s words. She had the same dark brown hair as his father but her eyes were the color of new grass sprouting up after a long winter’s sleep.

“Dinner is ready,” her voice was light and feathery reminding Will of a butterfly. He followed the others into a larger structure off to the right of the main house where he found a long wooden table that sat a couple of inches above the floor and was lined with a variety of foods. Taking a seat on a large pillow as the others did he watched silently as Emarl walked around the room filling the goblets with wine. After this was done she took a seat at the table next to her father who raised his goblet to make a toast.

“Words can not express how grateful I am tonight to have my son once more under my roof. Let us give thanks to the forces that have brought this to pass.” A ‘here, here’ was emitted as the goblets were raised in the air. With the formalities over they proceeded to eat the wonderful food that had been prepared.

Will found the small talk amongst his cousins amusing, he had never known that elves had such witty humor. In fact there was very little he knew of his elven heritage other than how to shoot a bow and he owed that to his cousin Lith who was often sent to patrol close to the humans towns..

“So, William, what brings you to Nordel?” Will felt the many eyes watching him as the conversation suddenly took a serious tone.

“Umm, Father,” he cleared his throat, “I would feel more comfortable discussing that matter with you in private.” No more was said of the matter for elves are not a prying sort of creature. After the meal was over, the cousins bid their farewell and retreated to their own lodgings. Emarl busied herself with the clean up allowing her father and Will time to be alone.

Vial Two ( Magdalena)

2005-05-25T15:37:00.000-04:00

Brandy quietly surveyed her surroundings looking for the slightest indication that someone other then Bishop knew that she was in this deserted cemetery in Paraguay.
Stepping slowly as she continued her vigilance she deftly made her way toward the center of the property. There she would find the mausoleums that were her true target this night.

Recently while the focus of the world’s attention was shifted toward the Pope’s demise an Infernal had entered the Vatican uninvited and made off with one of the world’s foremost supernatural weapons. For centuries the citadel in which the Pope resides had been the repository for any and all supernatural objects that came into the church’s possession. Throughout all of recorded history one collection of objects has been hinted at and feared by all who have knowledge of its existence. It is written that whoever shall hold the six ‘Bottles of Nigh’ and recite the correct prayer shall release onto this plane and bind into service the Satan himself. The legends state that the six bottles each contain a fraction of his former Celestial might that was released by each of six blows he suffered during the rebellion in heaven.

Three times have the bottles been united but each time without knowledge of the appropriate prayer. The first time it is said two lesser demons were released onto our plane. The result was the introduction of the vampyre and lycanthrope races into the human lexicon. The second time of ‘unification’ resulted in a lesser demon that entered our plane and became the councilor for one of the great families of Western Europe during the later 19th and early 20th centuries. The most recent episode resulted in the releasing onto this plane of a water elemental that wreaked havoc in the eastern hemisphere of our planet killing hundreds of thousands before it was trapped in a nearby fissure caused by the subduction of a regional tectonic plate.

The Magdalena had again been sent out to retrieve one of the ‘essence’ vials that had been so recently stolen from the Vatican. The first she had caught up with in Tunisia formerly under the possession of Lilith herself. She hadn’t been much of a challenge for Brandy. Her lilin on the other hand would have been more then a mouthful. This second vial was said to be carried by the former sovereign of a small eastern European enclave. Long since dead he was a known consort to Lilith and was long in both age and tooth.

Stopping she fixed her attention on the first granite structure just on the edge of visibility in front of her. It was neither sight nor sound that drew her attention but rather her god ‘gifted’ six sense triggered in the presence of one of the Infernal or those touched by them.

Drawing from the years of training already at her disposal Brandy crouched slightly and pressed forward, now using the tombstones as cover. Reaching over her shoulder she carefully drew her sword from its scabbard slowly so as not to announce her presence to any unseen assailants. Her weapon of choice on this mission was the fabled sword Excalibur her trusted Spear of Destiny sitting this one out. Also at hand she carried twin 9mm Beretta’s equipped to fire capsules of holy water. From previous experience she knew that a single well placed head shot would decapitate an undead as easily as did the sword.
Straightening to her full six foot two inch frame she found a measure of cover behind a large centuries old tombstone. Peering around the slab of marble she saw that one of the mausoleums had been torn open the former occupant lying stiffly on the dewy ground. Nothing seemed to be moving or making any noises so Brandy cautiously moved on.

Brandy also noticed the stench. In her dealings with the undead she had come to the conclusion, accurately, that the undead had a particular odor that was similar no matter what the manner of creature, whether vampire, wraith, ghost it didn’t seem to matter. They always had this odor that was reminiscent of frankincense, rotting flesh and rose petals.

After registering the smell her eyes did start picking up, at a mausoleum farther in the fog, some movement. Stealing herself she slowly began to advance using what cover she could from the tombstones. Hoping that she could sneak close enough to finish the battle with a single well placed blow from her enchanted sword. She unfortunately found out that scenario was not to be as she finally broke cover from her granite and marble protectors.

Rising up before her were two wraiths that had been lying in wait as part of some type of infernal claymore, the pair hidden and commanded to appear only if someone set foot within a given area or within a certain distance of a set point. Either way she now had two wraiths to fight and hoped that neither would lay a claw on her, knowing that should they do so they would sap part of her life essence adding it to their own. In the process aging her and strengthening the undead pair.

Carefully stepping back she allowed them to fully materialize, knowing that in their fully ephemeral state even Excalibur would not be able to touch them. The secret to fighting wraiths was patience. The only time they were corporeal was at the moment they were attempting to strike their target. This meant that to beat them a body must present itself as a target and at the last minute dodge an attack countering with an attack of their own. Now in their more substantial form Excalibur could do quite a bit of damage, perhaps felling the infernal creatures in a single blow. Brandy had thus far never been that lucky but she certainly hoped at this point luck was on her side and if not then God’s fortune.

Another oddity about the wraith was that they emitted a low mournful moan, but only when they were not in their ephemeral state. In previous battles with these creatures Brandy had made note that they were their most corporeal when they moaned and thus telegraphed their state. These two seemed to be a matched pair…male and female, perhaps even a husband and wife during life.

Slowly the two wraiths circled attempting to flank their quarry. Fortunately Brady recognized the logic behind their movements and rather then stepping back defensively she moved to her right directly into the path of one of the wraiths. Her blow caught the creature bemoaning its hideous fate and quickly dispatched it to the peace it had never known, forcing it back into the world from which it had been called into service.

The second wraith proved to be a bit more formidable then the first but never the less was also sent back to its plane of origin, by Brandy who then took a minute to lean forward on her sword and catch her breath. By this time she was not able to see anything nor was she able to detect their scent on the softly swirling breeze of the cemetery.

Meanwhile in his observation room secreted far beneath the Vatican Bishop is watching Brandy with extreme interest. The “Vials” are far and away the deadliest supernatural weapons currently known to the Knights of Malta organization. He has supreme confidence in the Magdalena’s ability to retrieve the items she is tasked to get, however he is aware that as long as a human being is breathing they are capable of doing anything. That includes casting off years of training and doing the unexpected.

Brandy could feel a buzzing at the edge of her consciousness, the tell tale sign that she was being monitored by Bishop. She had never been taught what the feeling was, so she had never volunteered that she felt it.

Finished with her brief respite she ventured deeper still into the ground fog saturated cemetery. With cautious steps she approached the largest mausoleums at the very center of the property. The ‘monitoring’ buzz in her head was quickly supplanted by the sixth sense alarm that she was in the proximity of one of the Infernal. The strength of the alert made it an almost palpable to her physically indicating that her true quarry was very near.
Unbeknownst to Brandy her presence had been detected also and her target had shifted into one of his more transient forms.

Approaching the structure ahead Brandy saw above the steel door, oddly enough hanging barely by one hinge, the seal the signified that this was the resting place of former members of her order. As she made for the entry she felt as if the very fog was clutching at her, whispering to her. Stopping she reached out with her senses to try and find the source of the sensations. Slowly the ground fog Brandy stood amidst twirled and twined around her legs, easily moving across her midriff until her entire body was wrapped in its ethereal embrace. Sensing the attack Brandy tried to step out of her undead lover’s embrace only to find that the fog was solidifying into something far more substantial.

With her range of motion waning Brandy dropped her sword and drew her pistols. When her attacker had finished solidifying into the form of a vampire clutching her to its chest, it was unaware that Brandy held at the ready pistol aimed at its crotch and just below the left armpit. Triggering both weapons simultaneously the holy water capsules didn’t penetrate very far before releasing their twin payloads of blessed liquid.

The vampire screamed like a thing undead, which it was, and releasing its hold on Brandy leapt atop the nearby mausoleum growling as the pain ebbed to a low agony. In the two target areas the missing tissue amounted to roughly a third of the total makeup of the creature. As he checked his wounds he found, to his dismay that they were not healing over and in fact were starting to spread to the formerly unaffected parts of his anatomy.

“The water has been infused with ultraviolet power nanites constructed out of pure silver. They’ll be done in about three and a half minutes.” She finished glancing at a chronograph in her left gauntlet. Quickly Brandy holstered her two firearms and retrieved Excalibur.

“You will not win.” The creature said well over half way eaten away by its holy viral infection.

“This game is never won, Count. That is why there have been so many Magdalena’s.” she replied gesturing to the front door of the structure atop which the Count was perched.

As the last portions of his body melted away a crystal vial containing an icor colored liquid fell down the roof rolling until it hit the edge of the roof. Tumbling through the air Brandy caught the bottle and tucked it into a pouch on the inside of her waist sash.

Mission of meaness (Quint,Kitty)

2005-05-22T21:53:00.000-04:00

Reaching out her lilac lotion saturated hands, and narrowly missing my eye with her acid green painted extended plastic finger nails, Kitty clasped my face between her soft palms and planted her sticky lips on the center of my forehead before pulling out a chair and seating herself.

“I’ve been so worried about you, some people said you were dead and others were saying near death and it seemed no one knew anything for sure. When I went to ask Edwardo I found the Sardine gone and no one could tell me when she departed or when she’d be back. I was completely beside myself with worry and then only a few days ago one of the fishermen came in and told me Captain Edwardo had returned. Well, you can be sure that I …”

At that point I sort of tuned Kitty out for the Diablo had arrived so I poured each of us a healthy portion of the fiery liquid. I sat half listening as I looked around at the faces of the patrons recognizing most of those present although there were a couple of new faces, but their tanned leathery skin showed them all to be men who worked outdoors in the elements; no immediate threats present. I sat back in my chair and relaxed and sipped my drink with an occasional nod of my head or a noncommittal ‘uh-huh’ as Miss Kitty kept on with her steady narrative.

“I swear, Edwardo is the most frustrating man I’ve ever know, and I’ve known quite a few” Kitty said with a huge smile that showed her gold tooth to the fullest and a wink of her purple painted eyelid.

“His poor hands” she continued, “it’s a wonder he can manage for himself at all. I’ve been down to the Sardine every day since her return cleaning and cooking and taking care of that poor man. I do hate to see him in such pain as he surely must be for every time I visit he has such a terrible grimace on his handsome face, but I can only do so much.”

When Kitty finally stopped to take a breath I seized the moment to do a little mischief during the brief interlude.

“Miss Kitty, don’t you be worrying your pretty head over the skipper, he’ll be just fine, besides, that kindly widow Nellie was seeing to his needs in a very tenderly way. I do believe you women are just going to spoil the ol’ swab if you keep pampering him.”

Oh, I had her complete attention all right, her painted eyes were now narrow gleaming slits and her mouth was drawn up as if she’d been sucking on a lemon.

“He never mentioned a ‘Nellie’ to me, just who is this widow woman?” hissed Miss Kitty and it seemed to me her artificial nails were actually visibly growing.

“Nellie is a real sweet lady, and I mean a real lady, who runs a nice clean bed and breakfast out in a little suburban neighborhood. She’s as nice and kind-hearted a woman as you’d ever want to meet, took real good care of me whilst I was hurt and needing help in the worst way, heart of gold. To tell the truth, I think the skipper kind of took advantage of that poor widow lady’s kindness” I said shaking my head to demonstrate my disappointment.

"I’m not sure I understand” said Kitty looking at me suspiciously, "just how did poor Edwardo take advantage of this lady?”

“Well, to be perfectly truthful, it was more about the way the Captain behaved then anything he said. He sort of kept his bandaged hands stuck out there and waving ‘em around like he wanted to make sure everyone saw he had an injury, never mind that it was nothing compared to some of the others that showed up at the B&B after a big to-do in the area.”

I then told Kitty about the fighting and fires and general destruction that occurred that evening and how the homeless and injured went to ‘poor Miss Nellie’ for refuge and medical help.

“I hate to say it, but from what I can recall Edwardo used the confusion and that kindly woman’s goodness in a shameful way, and I’m saying it as one who is the skipper’s true friend as you well know. I would have intervened right then and there, but I was too hurt and weak to even recall everything clearly. One thing I can tell you for sure though, that Nellie is a true angel of mercy whose kindness and pureness of heart is no match for a crusty ol’ salt like the skipper and it bothers me just remembering such things. Maybe you should ask Edwardo about that evening of blood and death as I wasn’t fully aware that evening when the skipper dropped in. Heck, I don’t even remember if he left that night or slept there at Nellie’s’.”

“I heard on the news about that riot, or what ever it was, bunch of the scum from the Alley gone wild from what I hear. You can be sure I’ll ask Edwardo about his visit to the bed and breakfast place and the nursing care he received there. I do believe I’ll head straight down to the Sardine right now” Kitty said starting to get up from her chair.

Taking a gentle hold of her wrist, actually all I held on to was a handful of multicolored plastic bracelets, I kept Kitty from getting up and leaving on the spot.

“Kitty, if you don’t mind, how about waiting till tomorrow before you go calling on Edwardo again. I wouldn’t ask it except that I’m heading over to see him myself right now to discuss some business and we’ll probably be at it quite late. Besides, I believe you might need to calm yourself a little and collect your thoughts before confronting that crafty ol’ sea dog, you know how slick he can be at times. One more thing, I don’t want you thinking badly of Nellie, she really is a very, very nice person and I think you’d like her if you ever got a chance to meet her. Okay?” I gave Kitty my most pleading and needful look, as if I were begging for her help and indulgence.

“All right, Quint, I’ll wait till tomorrow, but now I want you to promise me something, don’t stay down there with Edwardo too late. You still look a bit pale, weak and needful of rest, no since in draining your health to visit with that ungrateful, conniving, womanizing, piece of…..oh, never mind. You just take care of yourself and I assure you I don’t hold anything against a person who takes hurt strangers into her home to comfort and help, which is what that Nellie woman did, and I hope I do get to meet her some day. As for Edwardo, I’ll see him tomorrow, you can be sure of that” Kitty said smiling sweetly and patting the back of my hand that still lay on her wrist.

“Well, I best be shifting colors and getting to the Sardine if I want to wrap up my business early with Captain Edwardo. I just stopped in to say hello and to tell ya how much I’ve missed ya. Thanks for the drink for I was in need of a little fire in my boiler” I said as I took up my bag of equipment in my left hand and arose from my seat to depart.

Kitty got up and came around the table to give me a big hug and plant another sticky kiss on me, this time on my left cheek.

“Now you take better care of yourself and I want to see you back in here real soon and the sooner the better” Kitty said sincerely then turned away and headed back across the room in a flourish of color and swaying hips.

I went out the front door of the Purple Onion feeling better then I had in a long, long time.

In the back of a fast hack (Quint)

2005-05-19T20:25:00.000-04:00

Number 24, the fastest hack around.

Leaving the guns and ammo store with the weighty sack of goods my intentions were to return to the Serendipity to restock my war-chest, but seeing the black sedan with dark tinted windows parked across the street caused me to change my plans just for the pure sadistic pleasure of it.

I flagged down a cab and opened the back door to climb in, but before entering I whistled shrilly and waved my hand to get the attention of the sedan’s occupants. After several moments the drivers window opened a few inches and I could see a forehead and dark sunglasses turned my way. That was all I wanted, their attention, smiling hugely I flipped ‘em the bird and then seated myself in the taxi closing the door and named my destination, the Purple Onion.

When the hack had initially picked me up I noticed the number 24 painted on the door under the company’s name, and sure enough it was the same young man driving that had hauled me before and he obviously recognized me also.

“Hay, how you been? Haven’t seen you around in a while” he said making small talk as he moved his vehicle into traffic.

“Been stayin’ busy, how about yourself?” I asked as I twisted in the seat to look out the back window just in time to see the black car make a u-turn across the lanes of traffic and then fall in behind us a couple of cars back.

“Been running my wheels off, lots of overtime lately. I’ve actually been considering a different job, fella wants me to race cars for him, haven’t decided one way or the other, but it might be interesting work” said the young man with a grin as he glanced at me in the rear view mirror.

“Sounds like something you’d be really good at” I replied honestly. “Matter-of-fact, how’d you like to hone your driving skills a tad right now? I’ll even pay you to do it.”

“What you have in mind?” asked the spirited young man, a mischievous grin on his youthful face.

“There’s a black sedan with dark tinted windows following us, think you can shake ‘em?”

The only reply I received was to be pushed back in the padded seat as my driver jammed the accelerator to the floor. I had to grasp the arm rest on each door to keep myself upright in the back seat as we made sudden quick lane changes or did sharp turns down streets and alleys. The ride was an adrenalin rush experience as we sped along the city streets heavy with traffic or we zipped down narrow alleyways congested with dumpsters and trash cans. No doubt a lot of people would be calling the cab company to complain about the speeding driver of car number 24.

After about thirty minutes we were once more cruising along at a normal rate of speed and I was finally able to take a look out the back window where there was no longer any sight of the black sedan. I had to smile as I thought of Charlie’s frustration even though I knew I would inevitably have to meet-up with him. My dare-devil driver had a gigantic smile plastered across his face, but he made no boast or comment as we proceeded to the Purple Onion.

At the Onion I opened the door, but before I got out I handed the still smiling cabbie five ‘C’ notes. “Thanks kid, you did real good and you ought to give serious consideration to that other job offer, I think you’d do well at it.”

“Thanks!” I’ll do that” he said as I got out of the car and closed the door behind me.

The Purple Onion was doing a pretty good business, but I had no problem finding an empty table in a back corner of the bar. As I waited to be served I couldn’t help but notice that the volume of conversation in the place had suddenly decreased and my ears perked as I caught my name being passed softly around among the patrons.

“Quint! You handsome devil! Where in the world have you been?” shouted Miss. Kitty as she charged across the room in skin tight black poke-a-dotted stretch yellow pants and a lacey pastel pink blouse that barley covered her jiggling bosom.

If there was anyone in the room who didn’t know my name they surely did now as the colorful red head swept toward my table with a huge smile on her blue painted lips and her gold tooth sparkling. As she wove her way past the other tables she shouted for one of her young waitresses to bring over a bottle of Diablo and a couple of glasses. At least conversation in the room had returned to normal once everyone came to realize I had just dropped in for a drink and not to find a victim..

Surf Turf (Landon/Stan)

2005-05-15T19:57:00.000-04:00

Trail to beach Landon and Stan used.

The cool salt air made the tall grass dance to an unheard rhythm. Occasionally a seagull would announce itself overhead as it wheeled about in search of sustenance. The oceans waves could be heard off in the distance, caressing the shore of the yet unseen beach.
Stan reached down and plucked a long slender piece of driftwood up from the trail
“I still think we should have stuck around and asked some more questions Lan.” Stan mumbled as the two men made their way down the beach trail.

“Stan, we just don’t have that kind of time. Besides I don’t think that cowgirl was completely truthful with us so we need to find the spot on the beach that she described.”

“Well I think we should have at least told Nelly good-bye. She was a very nice lady and man could she cook. I think the holograms were a bit over the top. I don’t understand why we had to use them.” Stan swung his driftwood at the tall grass, emulating Jester with his swords, as he waited for Landon to answer.

“I told you, you said so yourself, there were people there that should not be there, like you and your brother, people that just don’t die right. We can’t take chances and wait for things to happen. The holograms bought us some time. I’m sure they’re smart enough to have figured out that people don’t sit around in a parlor for weeks on end like that. If they haven’t figured it out, then they were no threat to begin with.” Landon continued to walk.

Stepping up beside Landon, Stan continued surmising the pieces. “So why would…well better yet…how did Diapleo know where to put the bags. How could he have ever guessed the girl would turn up on the beach?”

“Well, when we get to the spot this Alex girl described, maybe, we’ll get some answers. I’m surprised Jester hasn’t communicated a response about the info we sent him. I wonder what those three have gotten into?”

Stan chuckled, “Well with the company of Mr. Tads and Charlie, I’d say it could be almost anything. At least Silk replied. She’s going to keep trying to contact him. Wonder what kind of interference she was talking about that she couldn’t pick up a trace on him in the forest?”

“From what she said, it’s an outside source, not from with in the forest, which isn’t good at all. That means some one knows they’re in there and that ‘some one’ has established a blanket trace jam. Silks no slacker though, don’t you worry. She’ll find a way to get to Jester one way or another. Those two are inseparable in spirit. You don’t know Jester well enough yet, but you’ll never have a more loyal friend. Just don’t cross him. I almost feel sorry for Morgan when Jester decides it’s time for him next.” Landon shuddered and took on a distant, cold stare, the stare of a man who has seen death all to often.

“I know that name from somewhere. Morgan…Morgan…Damn why do I know that name? Every time I’ve heard it I feel a knot in my gut.” Stan continued to repeat Morgan’s name as they walked down the trail.

“Yeah, Morgan has that affect on people. You probably heard your dad mention him, I’d say.” Landon realized what he had just said and hoped that Stan had not.

Stan caught the fumble and pulled up short. He grabbed Landon by the shoulder and effortlessly spun the large man around. His frustration was apparent when the piece of driftwood he had been carrying went flying out of eyesight. “Why would my father mention Morgan? What aren’t you telling me Landon?” Stan demanded.

Landon rolled his eyes up and grimaced at his carelessness.
“Well, you should know the truth. I would want to know it if I were in your shoes. Mind if we keep walking though while I tell you?”

“Start walking then!” Stan made no attempt to hide his rapidly dissolving patience.

“Jester should be the one to tell you but, looks like that’s my cross to bare now. Your father, myself, Morgan, Silk and Jester…well we all made up an elite DVA pod. Some said we were the best, anyhow…” Landon continued telling Stan of his father and their connection as they walked down the sandy trail toward the beach and toward what awaited them.

Moving Day(Will)

2005-05-13T21:16:00.000-04:00

After tossing and turning for several hours, Will finally got out of bed, accepting the fact that he would be unable to sleep. Quietly he slipped from his room first checking on his mother then to get a cold glass of water. Starring out the little kitchen window he felt very small and alone. Deciding to put the hours to good use, he retrieved a duffle bag from inside the hall closet and returned to his room to begin packing. Grabbing a pen and some paper from his desk, he scribbled some notes in regards to his mum’s care. He felt guilty about leaving her but he knew that Nelly would take good care of the sick woman. His biggest concern was the reception he would receive upon his arrival in Nordel. His father’s people had left long ago to the isolated land in the east in order to separate themselves from the humans. Much to the dismay of Will and his mother, his father left as well leaving behind an aging wife and a young son.

Will threw his belongings into the bag with more force than was necessary. He tried hard to understand his father but most of the time he just felt anger and resentment towards him. He blamed him for his mother’s frail health and for the deplorable living conditions they had been forced to live in over the years. His mum had tried to explain to Will why his father had to go but to a young boy there was no reason good enough for abandoning them.

With the rising of the sun, Will left the little apartment for work. He would inform Mr. Trumper of his plans and see what insight the old man might be able to offer. As usual he found the owner of the vegetable stand arranging the display of produce on the sidewalk. Clearing his throat to announce his arrival Will got straight to the point “Mr. Trumper, may I speak to you in private for a moment?”

Placing the remaining lettuce in the designated bin, the stocky man escorted Will inside to his office at the back of the store leaving a young sales clerk in charge of the store. “What can I do for you, William?”

Will rehashed his visit with Nelly the previous night. When he had finished he looked imploringly at the old man whom he considered his father in all sense of the word. “Do you think I should go?”

The old man rubbed his chin in thought, “I think Nelly’s right. It’s time you mend things between you and your father. Besides he might have some knowledge about this island that you’ll be going to.” Will wasn’t surprised by the answer. He graciously thanked the gentleman for his help over the years and after a fatherly embrace they parted company.

Will had his mother settled in her new room by the time the sun was going down. He left a list of instructions and her medicines sitting on the chest o’ drawers. Giving his mum one last kiss on the forehead he slipped quietly from the room to join Nelly in the kitchen as the parlor was still occupied by a few guests who had stayed on after the raid a few weeks back.

“She’ll be fine, Will, don’t worry about a thing. Just go and do what you need to do.” She placed a cup of tea in front of the young man. Dear Nelly felt that all the world’s problems could be settled over tea.

“I’ll send word once I’ve arrived in Nordel and again when I leave. Do let me know if you need me to return home.” Glancing up at the ceiling he added mater-of-factly, “she mostly sleeps and when she is awake she talks nonsense; every now and then the light will return to her eyes and she’ll remember where she is – that’s the real her.”

Nelly patted his hand sympathetically, “she would have wanted you to do this. You need to make amends with your father and start living for you.” Finishing his tea, he left the comfort of the bed ‘n’ breakfast. He would begin his journey at first light.

Will(Will,Nelly)

2005-05-12T22:41:00.000-04:00

Will couldn’t believe that only a few weeks had passed since he had seen Alex off on the private fishing boat heading for Antipode Island; he felt like months had gone by since he last saw the green eyed, auburn haired girl. Some mornings he would lie in bed trying to find motivation to get up, but since her departure he couldn’t think of any reason to rise. There were moments in the day when he felt as though he were suffocating from the girl’s absence. When and how she had become such a major part of his life he didn’t know, but what he did know is that he had to have her back in it.

He had managed to avoid going to Nelly’s Bed ‘n’ Breakfast but this morning he could find no way around it. Loading the van as usual, he made a mental note to go there last. As his work day drew to a close, he began to regret his decision to go to the B&B last for it had foreshadowed his entire day causing him to sulk more than usual. He parked the delivery van out front and slowly walked the path to the familiar kitchen door. Nelly greeted him in her customary cheery way, one look at the boy and she knew that he was in need of a cup of tea and a story.

“Please, Miss Nelly, I just want to go home.” He forced the words out around the lump in his throat. Of course Nelly couldn’t let the young man leave in such a distraught state and in the end she got her way. Taking a seat at the little kitchen table Will released an audible sigh and rested his head in his hands. The concerned older woman brought over two cups of steaming tea and took a seat across the table from her heart-broken guest.

“Will, before Alex left she asked me to answer your questions and to fill you in on some things that she neglected to tell you.” Taking a sip of tea she studied the boy’s reaction and as she had expected anger clouded his face.

“How could she leave us like that? Why now? Doesn’t she care at all what happens to us?” Rising from the chair he began to pace the room while venting his frustrations that had been locked up for so long. “My father was right – never get mixed up with a human. Why didn’t I listen to him?” Nelly sat quietly allowing the young man to fume. Finally exhausting himself, he sank back down into his chair. “Why did she leave me, Nelly?”

Nelly fought the tears that stung at her eyes, how well she knew the agony of loosing somebody you care about. Taking another sip of tea to steal her nerves she began her story, “A long time ago there was a little girl named Alexandra Fields…” She told the story from beginning to end only pausing from time to time to take a sip of tea or water to wet her mouth. When she finally finished the two of them sat in silence, Nelly for having talked so long and Will to ponder what he had been told.

“Why didn’t she tell me all of this?” asked Will standing up to stretch his legs.

“Fear, embarrassment, shame, - who knows? The point is you know now, so what are you going to do about it?” Nelly began removing items from the refrigerator for dinner.

“What can I do? I can’t go with her, I’ve got Mum to care for. Besides, father would never approve of me running after some human like a love sick puppy.” He munched on a carrot that he had absentmindedly picked up from the chopping block.

“Good idea, Will.” Nelly was smiling like a fool at the baffled young man.

“What’s a good idea?”

“To go and see your father, of course.”

“I can’t do that, he doesn’t like to be bothered with human affairs. Who will look after Mum?”

“He’s your father, Will, he’ll know what to do. And besides, you’re not all together human, now are you?” Ignoring the boy’s discomfort she continued on. “ We can move your mother in here. I would be able to tend to her just fine and the company would be wonderful. I’ve been so lonesome now that everybody’s gone back to their homes.”

Will looked in awe of the short woman. "How does she do it?" He wondered. She always seemed to know what people needed to hear, you just had to sift through all the other stuff she said.

“Fine, you win, Nelly.” She smiled triumphantly at the boy. “I’ll start moving Mum in tomorrow. Once she’s settled I’ll pay a visit to Nordel to see father.”

Nelly gave the boy a bear hug before he left the house. “What a grand adventure you’re about to embark on,” muttered Nelly to herself as she closed and locked the door before returning to her dinner preparations.

Past Meets Present

2005-05-04T12:30:00.000-04:00

Alex was awake, showered and dressed before the sun came up. She was surprised to still hear hushed voices emitting from the dining room. Wondering if Nelly had slept at all she quietly made her way down the stairs. She knew that nothing would be open at this hour so she decided to have a cup of coffee with her hostess and whoever else might be in the kitchen. She passed a small group of men sitting at the large dining room table who were going over cleanup plans while eating eggs, bacon, and hash browns. She waved a hand in response to their greeting and entered the well lit kitchen where she found Nelly bustling about making biscuits and other breakfast foods.

“Mornin’, Nelly” taking her usual seat, Nelly quickly brought over a cup of coffee and sat down with her cup in hand. “Did you get any sleep?”

“I tried but I just couldn’t, my mind kept going back to that poor Mr. Quint. You know I’ve said all along that he was a nice fellow, just misunderstood.” Alex smiled at this remark for she had heard the exact opposite come out of Nelly’s mouth. “He’s just trying to make this world a better place. I think if he had a good woman in his life he would be in a much better shape. How about you?” Alex spit her coffee out across the table. “You’re right; you and Will are much better suited for each other. I’m sure somebody will come to mind…” Alex didn’t bother answering but allowed the widow to prattle on; she found the endless chatter amusing.

Giving her thanks for the early morning coffee, Alex headed out the door in the direction of Trumper’s. After she left the upper end of town she stepped into a completely different looking environment then what usually greeted her. Smoke spiraled up from smoldering fires, glass and debris littered the street, and the usual traffic flow was non-existent. A few police cars and fire trucks were still on hand finishing up business. Already some of the shop owners and early risers of the community were beginning repairs. Although devastating, the raid would probably bring the neighborhood even closer together.

She found Will helping Mr. Trumper clean up the ruined produce. Without asking, she grabbed a broom and dust pan and started sweeping up the leafy mess on the walk that used to be a display of lettuce and cabbage. The owner looked up and smiled in appreciation. The place was cleaned up and ready for business by its usual opening time. Mr. Trumper sent the two young people away to get a bite to eat.

Strolling into Al’s Diner which had remarkably escaped damage thanks to a mysterious young man named Stan; they took a seat at a booth by the window. After placing their order and some polite chit-chat Alex began to disclose the conversation she had with the two “heroes” back at Nelly’s. “When I asked them if they knew anything about a box or key that their friend might have left in my bags they shook their heads no but suggested I check with the local lock smith. You don’t know where I could find him do you?”

“Yeah, that would be Mr. Keys. I can take you by there when I make deliveries. Did they say what they wanted with this old man?”

“No, just said he was a friend of theirs who was missing and they were trying to retrace his steps. The only reason they linked me and him together was because dear Miss. Nelly made an offhand remark that I was a real cowgirl type, complete with saddle bags and boots. Seems this guy they’re looking for is the one who returned my things but they didn’t know anything about a box.”

“Could be they weren’t telling the whole truth, just like you weren’t” remarked Will before taking another bite of egg. Alex looked out the window at a loss for words. She had disclosed bits and pieces of her past to her new friend but had left out little details like she was born in 1886 or that she had some nightmarish encounters in the forest that he loved so much.

After breakfast they returned to the produce stand to pack up the van for deliveries. Mr. Trumper was determined to run business as usual. They were in the neighborhood of the Hotel Grande when Will directed Alex to the locksmith a few doors down and agreed to meet her there after he finished delivering to the hotel.

The little store smelled of metal and the constant hum came from a machine sitting at the end of the counter. Keys of various shapes, sizes, and colors hung from hooks that lined the walls. In the center of the store were two short aisles containing door knobs and locks. “Can I help you?” A slight man with large glasses came out of a back room. He was bald with a thin moustache lining his even thinner lips.

“I was wondering if you could tell me anything about this,” she produced the key from its hiding spot beneath her shirt and slipped the cord over her head handing it to the clerk.

Walking over to the counter he brought forth a magnifying class and studied the ornate key for a few moments. “Yes, I know this key. A fellow came in here a few years back with a bar of gold and wanted me to make a key out of it. I told him that pure gold would be too soft but offered to put a gold plate on it. Where did you get this?”

“A gift.” she said offhandedly. “Can you tell me the name of this man?”

“Can’t forget it – Jake Small. Strange fellow, wore boots with spurs on them and a big cowboy hat – looked like something out of a western.”

Alex felt her knees go weak and she heard a hight pitched ringing in her ears, the room spiraled around her and she collapsed onto the concrete floor.

“Alex!” Will ran into the store where he found the girl laying on the floor the clerk knelling next to her patting her cheeks. “What happened?”

“No idea, I was talking to her and the next thing I know she fainted.”

The fog began to clear and she could hear the two men talking above her. Slowly the blackness began to leave and her senses began to function again. She could feel the cold hard floor beneath her and smell the metal of the keys and there was a familiar scent as well – tomatoes and onions. “Will?” She opened her eyes and the blurry faces before her began to clear.

“I’m here.” Came the familiar voice, “just take it easy.” She sat still for a few more moments and then with the aid of the men got back to her feet. “What happened?”

Alex thought for a moment until she remembered what happened, her heart began to thump loudly in her chest. “Small, Jake Small, where is he? What did he say?”

Will looked puzzled as did Mr. Keys but the little man quickly spoke up registering the urgency in the girl’s voice. “Last I heard he was going to Antipodes Island. Said something about trying to stay out of trouble. But that was a few years back, who knows where he is now.”

Retrieving the key from the counter she place it around her neck once more. Thanking the clerk she quickly left the shop, her mind reeling from the news.

“Alex, what’s going on?” Will pulled her to a stop on the sidewalk.

“How do I get to Antipodes Island?” her eyes had turned into a cloudy gray color and she had a crazed look on her face.

“By ship, of course, but what is this about?”concern causing his deep voice to sound husky.

“I’ll explain later. Where’s the docks, I’ve got to get passage on a ship.” She looked around the street in the hopes that the ship yard would be in view.

“Listen, how about I take you back to Nelly’s?” before she could protest Will continued with his plan. “I’ll take care of getting you a ship; I’ve got connections that I can call on.”

Alex reluctantly agreed and rode in silence, while Will stole worried glances at her. Once she was dropped off at the bed ‘n’ breakfast she took the steps two at a time to her room ignoring the greetings that assaulted her upon entering the still busy establishment. Sensing that something was amiss, Nelly excused herself from her crowded parlor and followed the girl to her room. “Come in, Nelly, I know it’s you.” Nelly entered the room to find Alex hastily packing her belongings.

“Are you leaving us, dear?”

“I’m afraid so, Nelly. I just received some disturbing news in regards to some old business of mine and I need to follow up on it.”

“Well, you’ll need some luggage if you’re going to take all of this with you.” The kind lady quickly left the room and soon returned with a suitcase. “Here, this should do.”

Alex tried to decline the offer but Nelly wouldn’t here of it and began placing clothes into the piece of luggage. Reaching into her saddle bag she retrieved the little pouch of gold, “Here, I think there’s enough in there to settle up the bill and then some.”

Offended, the little round woman pushed the money bag away, “Get that out of my face, I’ll not have one shilling from you.” Not wishing to hurt the woman’s feelings she did as she was told.

“Nelly, I’m afraid I’m leaving Will with a lot of questions, if he should ask…”the girl looked down at her boots struggling with the guilt that tugged at her conscience.

“Of course, dear, I’ll explain everything to him once you’re gone. Are you sure you want to leave everything behind to pursue your ‘buisness’?”

It was an innocent question but Alex knew what "everything" was referring to and didn’t wish to answer, much less think about what she would be leaving behind. Nelly quietly left the room so that Alex could be alone with her thoughts. The usually cheery woman walked slowly to her own room, tears running unchecked down her cheeks.

Bang-bang buying (Quint, Duke)

2005-05-01T21:11:00.000-04:00

Quint's new 9mm semiauto.

At Earl’s Powder House I paid the hack driver and added a generous tip; showing me a green toothed smile and offering a sincere ‘thanks’ he was gone, the vacancy light illuming as he drove away. I entered the combination gun, ammo, and pawn shop and immediately noticed the addition of security cameras mounted high on the side of the walls. I spotted Duke off to the left near the back corner of the store, he appeared to be arranging items displayed on a lower shelf, he was messing with some sort of hiking boots, at least that’s what they looked like to me. Duke looked up as I approached and then, grunting with the effort, arose from the floor where he had been kneeling while he worked.

“Good to see you again, Quint, last I heard you were missing or dead or something, but glad to see the rumors were wrong” said the friendly salesman extending his hand.

“I’m glad the reports were wrong, too” I said taking the offered hand and then releasing it thus ending the social formality.

“I see you’ve added some new eyes to the place. Been having a problem?” I asked as I motioned with a thumb toward the electronic surveillance device that steadily swept to and fro scanning the room.

“Naw, no trouble except for putting those blasted gadgets in, but the insurance company insist on ‘em so there they are. We don’t even bother with a tape in the machine during the day when we’re open, only run the recorder after the doors are locked. What can I do for you today or are you just window shopping?”

“I need some new tools…special tools” I said as I looked around the place.

“Hay, Earl, you’ve got it a while” said Duke loudly to an older looking man that sat behind the counter by the cash register.

The old man waived his hand without looking up from the magazine he had opened before him and Duke indicated with a motion of his head that I should follow him. At the back of the display room we went through a wooden door that was in serious need of refinishing and then we wend down a short dimly lit hall where we halted in front of a gray metal door set in a metal frame. Duke produced a ring of keys and unlocked the double dead bolted door and we then descended the steel stairs to a large sound proof room containing a small shooting range and several racks of firearms, explosives and other not-too-legal weaponry.

I found three nice 38 derringers, I’d rather of had the larger caliber 44s, but they’re hard to come by. It took some time, but I finally decided on four silencer equipped 9s with modified ‘U’ clips that held 35 rounds each. Finding a suitable 44 revolver took a bit of time for none seemed as good or as comfortable as the one I had lost, but I finally picked out a nice black steel pistol with beautiful mahogany grips. Besides the firearms I selected a few knives and an ultra-light high tech, high powered crossbow and several dozen deadly darts for the weapon.

I paid for the items and Duke loaded my stuff into a dark nylon bag and then we returned upstairs. The old man was still behind the counter with his magazine which was now opened to a three page fold out, he appeared to be drooling. There was another person in the store now, a man in a black suit who was acting at showing interest in hiking backpacks, but he was failing miserably at the ruse.

I said my farewell to Duke and headed for the front door, the black suited man turned to watch me depart… he was wearing dark sunglasses. I knew I would be visiting with Charlie very soon.

Serendipity, in and out. (Quint)

2005-04-30T19:42:00.000-04:00

As I departed the area of Nelly’s Bed & Breakfast I couldn’t help but notice the neighborhood had the appearance of a riot zone. There appeared to be a lot of damage, but most of it seemed superficial although a couple of shops would require major renovation. I had only visited this area a few times in the past and that was to drop in at Armani’s for ‘equipment accessories’ and I sometimes purchased a few of his well made garments. Neighborhoods like this normally didn’t need me or the service I provided, my kind was tolerated here, but not welcome.

I was a good distance from where I wanted to be, the Serendipity, so I was in need of a taxi, unfortunately it seemed the word was out about the disturbance of last night so commercial transportation vehicles were avoiding the area; I had to walk a good distance before I was finally able to flag down an empty hack to transport me to the inn.

It took nearly an hour to get to the Serendipity where I told the cabbie to wait for my return, I had no doubt that he would since I hadn’t paid him the fair as of yet. Upon entering the familiar tavern I saw that little had changed which is what I expected for this place was a haven that remained constant, only those entering and leaving were different, the place itself was like a fixture of nature, always the same. In a far corner the motionless dwarf still held his empty eye stare, a stare that seemed to focus on nothing yet appeared to see everything, both at the same time. A coating of dust on his ears and clothes and the sagging cobweb that ran from his long nose to the tankard in his hand told of how long he had sat unmoving, seeming unaware and unconcerned about the passing of time. At the piano I saw a familiar face and I saw that she also recognized me, but it was obvious that she wished to appear a stranger to everyone. Though she tickled the ivories beautifully I could see the signs of fatigue and that her finger tips were becoming blistered, yet she played on as if the force that controlled her had abandoned or forgotten her existence.

I made my way across the room to the door that led to the lodgings upstairs, I would have liked a shot of Diablo, but there was a more pressing matter I needed to attend to. I found my room as I had left it, nothing had been disturbed, yet oddly enough, there wasn’t a spec of dust to be seen, as if even a single mote of dust were not allowed to trespass into my living quarters during my absence. Going straight to my war chest I went about the business of reequipping myself. The weight of the SOCOM-5s felt good as I seated them in my shoulder rig. I would miss the P-38’s and there was little chance I would ever find the likes of those custom crafted works of art ever again. Besides the auto-pistols I selected a couple of throwing knives and a pair of stiletto blades and a couple of extra clips of ammo. From the secret compartment hidden in the bottom of the chest I took several thousand in cash to have for ready spending money. I stuffed bills in several separate pockets about my person.

Returning the now much lighter shelves to my trunk I went to the window that opened to the fire escape landing and used the well maintained black steel ladder to descend to the alley. I could have used the front portal, but I had no desire to cause the lady at the piano any anxiety, she had appeared distressed enough at her seeming inability to cease her playing of the instrument.

I startled the cab driver when I opened the car’s door for he had been watching Serendipity’s front door and not expecting anyone approaching from the rear, a fatal error in my businesses but for others nothing more then a pain in the derrier. The meter was still clicking away as I settled myself into the back seat and spoke my next desired destination, Earl’s Powder House; it was time to visit Duke of Earl’s to restock and hopefully find a few new suitable tools.

Healed (again) (Quint, Nelly)

2005-04-27T21:07:00.000-04:00

I awoke from a deep sleep to the sound of several voices outside my neat little room at the bed and breakfast, what seemed strange was that it sounded like several people were waiting to get in the bathroom Deciding there was nothing threatening about the flurry of activity in the hallway I closed my eyes to seek the healing of sleep, but almost immediately I was startled to alertness by a loud thump that was followed by a barley audible moan, it sounded almost as if someone had hit a wall. I strained my ears for some minutes attempting to hear a repeat of the sounds, but there was nothing, only the steady normal volume conversation of the people in the hall. Closing my eyes and relaxing my muscles I was soon wrapped in the comfortable arms of healing sleep once again.

It was late morning when I finally awoke feeling refreshed and free of pain. Tentatively rotating my right shoulder I found that it was practically back to normal with only a slight stiffness and a red puckered scar remaining as reminders of the painful wound. So feeling perfectly healthy now I swung my legs over the edge of the bed with the intent of getting up and dressed when I remembered I had nothing on and nothing to put on except for that flowery satin robe which I was not going to don again. I had just decided to wrap myself in the bed sheet when a soft knock and then pleasant voice spoke at my closed door.

“Good morning sir, this is Nelly, are you awake? I have a package that just arrived for you.”

“Yes ma’am, I’m awake, please come in” I replied as I checked to make sure I was covered decently.

The door opened silently on well lubricated hinges and the smiling round face of Nelly appeared and then pushing the door open further the cheerful little lady stepped quickly into the room and pushed the door shut behind her with her heel for both of her hands held brightly bundled packages tied with blue ribbon.

“Here are your clothes and would you believe it, Mr. Armani brought them over himself? I told him I was surprised to see him delivering personally, but he said that you were a very special customer of his and deserving of special service and said that if there was anything else you needed to please call him. He also told me that I should take extra special care of you and, no offense, I told him that I take extra special care of all my guest and that he should just stick to his tailoring. I like Mr. Armani, but he can get a little uppity if you let him and all that silly hand waving and prancing about does get a bit annoying, but then…”

I tuned out her nonstop chatter and watched her as she undid the ribbons and removed the packaged contents. Her back was towards me as she stood at the old, but functional, four drawer dresser. From time-to-time she would glance in the dresser’s mirror to see if she still had my attention as she prattled away.

“My, would you look at this black long coat, not very heavy or warm I would think, but gracious, I’ve never seen so many pockets and odd trappings in a garment” and then flushing as she realized she had spoken aloud the matronly woman hurriedly gathered up the wrapping paper and ribbons and turner around to face me with a somewhat embarrassed look on her face now.

“I am sorry, I tend to go on sometimes, I meant no offense and…Would you look at that! Those wounds of yours are already healed-up and showing scars, I’ve never seen anything like that in all my days… and so many scars, why even that little girl’s back isn’t as….Oh my! There I go again, please forgive me! I hope all the noise didn’t disturb you too much last night. I’ve never had such a large crowd of people here before and many are still about the place sleeping or talking and generally trying to decide what to do first today. What a night it really was, it really was such a night, well I’ve never seen such doings. When you’re ready come on down to the kitchen and I’ll have some coffee ready for you and maybe we can sit down and talk a little before lunch. I must really run along now, don’t have time to waste talking right now for some of them are going to be getting hungry and expecting me to have some sort of lunch prepared, so I better get to it. I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll be down shortly, soon as I get dressed and washed up a bit” I said doing my best attempt at a warm smile.

My attempt at a smile must have failed, but then it suddenly dawned on me what had really occurred. Poor Ms. Nelly only heard me mention getting dressed; her eyes had flared open at that exact moment for no doubt she now recalled that I was sitting there with nothing but a thin sheet barley covering my person. Now glowing red the sweet little lady wrung her hands, gasped, and then practically ran from the room. Smiling to myself I got up and dressed from the waist down then went to the bathroom where I used bath soap and my straight razor to clean several days of growth from my face and did the best I could at trimming my mustache with the razor.

Returning to my room I finished dressing and then headed down stairs carrying my long coat with my new cap stuffed in an outer pocket along with my pair of knives. As I descended the steps I heard several voices carrying on conversations from seemingly everywhere in the house. This was one heck of a crowd for a quiet little bed and breakfast. Several conversations ceased as the guest that were present caught sight of me, I could feel their eyes following me and could almost hear their thoughts as some asked themselves who I might be while others showed a startled look of recognition. Following the aroma of coffee and cooking I turned toward the back of the house in search of the caffeine and I couldn’t help but notice that some of the guests were fighters, real fighters and my instincts warned me that they were extremely dangerous. Though I felt no hostility directed at me, I none-the-less shifted the long coat so that the pocket containing my knives was easily accessible if necessary. It didn’t take long to locate the kitchen where Nelly was humming happily to herself as she placed freshly cleaned utensils in a drawer. I cleared my throat softly, but Nelly still jumped as if I had set off a firecracker.

“Sorry, Ma’am, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s all right deary, I’m a little jumpy after all the goings on last night. Please, have a seat and I’ll join you in a cup of coffee, just finished making it fresh and I need to get off my feet a few minutes. Cream and sugar?” she asked as she turned to a cabinet to retrieve cups and saucers not waiting for my reply.

Entering the sparkling clean kitchen I planted myself in a sturdy wooden chair by a spotless white enameled table that was outlined with a pair of parallel red stripes. Nelly had two steaming cups of coffee set on the table in no time at all and I declined her repeated offer of cream and sugar preferring mine black. Nelly filled me in on the activities that took place after I had zonked out and it seemed that I missed a good deal, but I can’t say that I regretted not being a part of the nights gathering in the parlor and dinning room. As Nelly talked I looked around the clean kitchen and then through the doorless opening that led into a comfortable looking dining room that had a long polished oak table lined with five chairs to each side and one at each end. I couldn’t help but wonder how it must feel to live in such a cozy and serene atmosphere where blood and killing were things that happened to other people, usually far removed, last night being a most rare exception.

We chatted through a second cup of coffee and it seemed now that our conversation was centered on Captain Edwardo for Nelly was extremely curious about the skipper. I answered her questions and made comment when she allowed me an opportunity to speak, which wasn’t often, then I offered her my thanks for putting me up and taking care of me and I headed for the front door with the kindly woman following on my heels and still talking away. Once more I felt eyes on me, not hostile, but intent and alert. At the front door I deposited a handful of gold coins on a small corner stand.

“Ms. Nelly, this is only a small token of my appreciation, I’ll see to it you’re properly rewarded for you kindness as soon as I get myself resettled in the city.”

“Oh my, no! That’s much too much for a single night, why that’s more then enough for six months room and board, I can’t accept that” said the vigorously protesting woman staring at the small pile of gold coins.

“You take it ma’am, you surely do deserve it. One more thing, if any of those thugs ever bother you just send the word out for me and I’ll see to it they never bother anyone again.”

With that said I opened the front door and stepped out on the porch where several people had been engaged in conversation that fell silent at my appearance. I went down the steps and out the freshly painted white gate and was walking away when Nelly’s high pitched voice called out to me.

“Excuse me? I’m sorry, but I never did get your name, sir” she said and all gathered on the porch seemed to be holding their breath awaiting the reply.

“Oh, sure, my fault. My names Quint, Quint Yuhasz” I said throwing up a hand in a little wave without turning around as I continued down the sidewalk.

I never saw the shocked expression that came on Nelly’s face nor the astounded looks of the people on the porch.

No Rest for the Weary(Alex//Cat,Rufus)

2005-04-27T15:46:00.000-04:00

She had just begun to nod off when there was a tapping on the door. “Who is it?” she called out groggily.

“It’s Miss Nelly, dear. May I come in?”

Alex pulled off the blanket that was covering her and traipsed over to the door to unlock it. “What do you need, Nelly? Are those pigs back causing trouble?”

“No, no, dear, nothing like that.” The short lady came into the room and allowing the many voices to break through the silence of room 3. “There’s some fellas downstairs who wish to meet you.”

“Aw, Nelly, I was almost asleep. Can’t it wait ‘til morning?” The girl looked longingly at the bed, trying to give the dear woman a hint.

Nelly smiled sympathetically, “You really should come down. One of the young men took out at least two dozen of those hoodlums in front of Al’s Diner. I think you ought to go and thank him for such a grand service.”

Alex knew from past experience that there would be no dissuading Nelly. Reluctantly she mumbled that she’d be down as soon as she put some pants on.

“Thank you, dear. You’ll find them in the parlor eating.” She quickly left the room to tend to her other guests.

Alex grabbed a pair of jeans from the floor and slipped them on under her nightshirt. Not bothering with her boots, she padded down the wooden steps in her bare feet. She looked like a little girl standing in the doorway of the parlor in her oversized shirt and mused hair. She politely acknowledged various ones as they passed in and out the door. Alex knew that it had to be close to midnight but the house showed no signs of emptying out any time soon. Nelly seemed to be in her element as she scurried about with blankets, pillows, and food. Alex walked into the parlor and found a man and a boy not much younger than herself eating and talking with some other guests.

“Nelly?” she hollered stepping back into the little hall.

“Yes, dear?”

“I thought you said the men were in the parlor.” She scanned the room again. Nelly politely pointed them out. “Them! Which one did all the killin’?” Nelly indicated the younger of the two. “Hmmm. Interesting.” Her questions answered Alex strolled into the room to the greetings of several guests.

***********************************************************************************

“What in blazes was that all about?” asked the rabbit irritably while catching his breath under the safety of a box.

“How should I know?” came the curt answer, “I saw everything you did. I’m just happy it didn’t come down to this end of the town. I’ve heard that some humans eat cats.”

“Had I known that, I wouldn’t have let you in my box.”

The orange tabby let out a hiss, warning Rufus that he had gone too far in his joking. “Soon as things settle we need to report. All three of them under one roof – most interesting. Has Tavalox given any indication of joining ‘the cause’?”

“No.” answered the brown rabbit as he proceeded to nibble on the edge of the box.

“Will you please quit doing that unless you want to be my dinner.” The rabbit stopped his gnawing in mid bite. “Thank you.” The cat flicked his tail in annoyance of the situation. He hated waiting and hated waiting with the rabbit even more.

“What about your folks, what are they planning on doing?”

“My ‘folks’ will be here when it is the right time. Unlike the centaurs, they will not ignore the great forces.”

“Now listen here, you over grown fur ball,” the rabbit began to hop about the tiny box in anger. “I’ll have you know…”

“Sit down before you tip the box over, you floppy eared rodent.” The cat stared at Rufus, his eyes mere slits of green, waiting for an excuse to pounce on the hare. The rabbit knew when he was treading dangerous ground and sat down on his haunches to wait patiently for the coast to clear. The cat took advantage of the time to wash and nap, enjoying the quiet.

Rat(Riddles)

2005-04-26T21:47:00.000-04:00

“Arsenic? Are you sure about that, Mort?” The chief stood looking at the blue bodies of three prisoners that were found dead in their cell.

“I’m positive, Chief. They were injected with it” the lanky mortician pointed out the puncture holes on each stiff – one in the back of the neck, one in the upper arm, and the last on the outside thigh. “There was enough stuff in each of these blokes to kill an elephant. Whoever did it wanted to make sure they would die.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Slade approached the Chief of Police tentatively, “I remember seeing some arsenic listed on our inventory sheets for the evidence warehouse when I was doing a rotation there.”

Rubbing a hand over his round belly, the old man pondered this bit of information. “Go down there and see what you can’t find out about it. Check to see who signed in over the past few days and report back to me. Don’t let on as to what you’re up to, I think we’ve got a rat in the house and I aim to catch it.”

The newbie left the morgue excited to be a part of what could be a huge sting.

***********************************************************************************

“Dylan, you’ve got to help me!” the pock marked officer begged, his face was a pasty color and sweat trickled down his chubby cheeks. “I know they’re on to me, it’s just a matter of time now.”

“Of course they’re on to you, you idiot.” Dylan sat calmly in a chair with his feet propped up on the scuffed up kitchen table. “You left a trail that even a kid could follow. Arsenic? Really, Riddles, I thought you could do better than that.”

“I panicked. What am I going to do?” He stood up to peer out a dingy window expecting at any moment for the cops to show up to arrest him. “You’ve got to get me out of here. Get me passage on one of those freight ships or something.”

Dylan looked at the cowering man as he took a seat across the table from him. “You know, Riddles, nobody trusts a crooked cop.” Without batting an eye the bearded man fired a bullet into Officer Riddles gut from a gun hidden beneath the table. The wounded man’s eyes budged in shock and horror as he fell from the chair onto the floor. Dylan came to stand over him, the barrel of the gun aimed at the cop’s head. “Why? You ask. Simple. What’s to stop you from panicking and telling them about me? No, you’re better off this way Officer Riddles.” Another shot was fired. Dylan walked quietly from the abandoned building, careful to shut the door on his way out. “Nobody will notice one more dead rat in this place.”

***********************************************************************************

“Sir, we just got an anonymous phone call saying that they’ve found the body of Officer Riddles at the old Baley place.”

The Chief of Police rubbed his hand through his thinning hair. “Let’s go check it out.”

Several squad cars, an ambulance, and some personnel from homicide soon arrived on scene. Nobody was surprised to learn that Riddles was dead, just an hour before the call was placed they had found several incriminating items on the officer linking him to the recent disturbance and payoffs.

“Looks like the rat got caught in his own trap.” Remarked the unsympathetic chief after identifying the body. “Duke, make sure the press doesn’t get wind of this. Something like this could bring the whole department down. He didn’t have any family so we can pull off a John Doe death and diffuse an ugly situation.”

Thus ended Officer Riddles, no family, no friends, not even a funeral. He died as he had lived, like a rat.

Small Universe After All (Stan&Landon)

2005-04-26T20:13:00.000-04:00

Heros parlor

Landon and Stan stepped up to the door of the bed and breakfast, the very busy bed and breakfast. It seemed they weren’t the only two with the idea of food and lodging. People were coming and going so fast, the door was virtually useless. The vast majority of the people weren’t patrons; rather they just felt like congregating here. Scattered about the front yard and leaning on cars and against fences the dull murmur of the crowd was constant.
Some of the locals were talking of hunting down any thugs that might have escaped. Some people were enraged and shaking with anger that their stores had been damaged. But for the most part, all were happy to be alive and openly expressed gratitude for the person, apparently a soldier or merc., that trained them, some guy by the name of Alex.
As Stan followed behind Landon, single file in as others were in single file coming out, Stan felt strange. He grabbed at Landons arm.

“What’s wrong?” Landon asked his nervous looking partner.

“Someone’s here.” Stan advised.

“Stan, buddy, look around. You’re kind of stating the obvious.”

“No. I mean…like Diapleo. I think it’s an immortal. Close too.” As if to emphasize his last statement, Stan felt his skin tingle as he became aware of the blue aura forming about his head.

Just then an aged and weathered man stepped through the doorway. He had plenty of room but the old man swayed into Stan’s path. Stan felt a shock wave of energy course through his veins as the old man collided with him.

“Aye, beggin’ yer pardn’ lad. Bit of a bustle about here with all that be happenin’ t’night.” The old salt apologized.

“Who are you?” Stan demanded defensively.

“A piece of advice for ya lad. Control that damned beacon of yers! No one can see it but them that matter and those that yer mum warned ya of. Ya best master the light before it’s extinguished fer ya by some others nasty way. Now, by yer leave young lad, oh, and you’re amongst friends with in.” And with that the old man turned and walked away with out looking back.

Landon gave Stan a firmer nudge on the shoulder. “Hey, wake up. I’m talking to you.”

Stan looked at Landon with a lost moment in his expression. “What?”

“I said, for the third time now, is it Diapleo? Is he here?” Landon watched and waited.

“No it was that old sailor dude. The one that I just finished talking to.” Stan turned to point him out but the man had vanished in the crowded street.

“Stan, I think that pipe across your neck did more damage than we first thought. Some old lady with bandaged hands and a bird feather hat bumped you and walked on by. You just kind of spaced out from there. We better get you looked at. C’mon.” Landon guided his bewildered friend through the door and into the cozy bed and breakfast.

“You’re kidding me. You didn’t see the ol’ guy talk to me?” Stan asked again.

“Stan, all I saw was that old lady and she was doing nothing but mumbling about some whiny deck ape and burned hands. I didn’t see an old guy.” Landon shrugged apologetically.

“Man, that’s just weird.” Stan mumbled.

The two men stepped into the parlor just in time to see a quaint older woman chasing a man and his cigar out of the room.

“I mean it Ed! That ‘no smoking’ sign isn’t there for looks. It means NO SMOKING! Now keep that nasty thing out of here!” The woman shook her finger out the door after the smoker and turned with a huff. “I’m so sorry about that. Be with you two in just one second. It’s a mad house here right now. Oh by the way, you can call me Nelly. Welcome to my home.” With that the woman scurried off down the hallway.

“I don’t think she was expecting this big of a crowd tonight.” Stan remarked to Landon.

“Gee, ya think?” Came Landon’s sarcastic reply.

The woman returned with air freshener blazing about. “I hate the smell of those things and Ed knows it. He thinks because he runs some popular tavern that he can come and go as he wants and do as he pleases. He’s a good man, just a little flighty. Shifty little gopher eyes also. Makes a person feel funny.” Nelly placed the, now empty, can of freshener down on a hall table. “Now how can I help you two?” She had turned into a gracious host again.

“ Well Miss Nelly, my young friend and I were on our way to the diner when our dinner plans were delayed. We find ourselves in need of a place to stay for the night and my young friend has worked up an appetite.” Landon explained.

“Well, my rooms are full but I have a couch and plenty of floor space. Food is not a problem. Did you say you were at the diner?” Nelly backtracked.

“Yes ma’am.” Stan answered as he looked up from his thoughts with the old fisherman.

“I heard there was quite a commotion down there. Some young man supposedly stopped an entire army in the middle of the street. Left them all on the ground where they belong. Did you see what happened?” Her eyes opened wide with the hopes of first hand gossip.

“It was more like a dozen actually ma’am.” Stan said.

“I counted 26 to be exact. 27 if you count that idiot that ran into you first thing.” Landon corrected.

Stan shot Landon an embarrassed glare.

“What? You think it’s going to be kept a secret? You did a good thing Stan. People are going to find out anyhow. Might as well get the facts straight.” Landon stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh my! It was you? Of course it was. Look at you. You’re bursting with energy and no wonder your famished!”
Nelly grabbed Stan by the arm and pulled him into the parlor. She guided Stan to a recliner and set him there.
“I’ll have you and your friend some food right away. Oh boy, Alex is going to want to talk to you!”

“Really ma’am, it’s no big deal. We can wait seeing as you’re so busy. And I’m sure Alex has a lot to do right now.” Stan shyly protested against all the attention.

“Oh don’t be silly young man. And get used to the attention, you’re a hero. Folks will be tellin’ their kids about you for years to come. By the way, what is the name of the hero they’ll be talking about?” She smiled.

“His name is Stan Rilling!” Landon volunteered the name loudly. He was enjoying his young friends discomfort with newfound fame.

“Thanks Landon.” Stan mumbled through clinched teeth.

“Don’t mention it.” Landon winked and smiled.

“Alex is going to be so excited to talk with you young Stan. She’s the reason those thugs didn’t beat us! We owe it all to her for teaching us how to protect ourselves better. She’s going to want to thank you personally for such a great help.” Nelly turned and rushed off toward the kitchen.

Landon and Stan turned to look at each other with their jaws agape. In perfect unison they said “SHE?”

Stan continued, “You don’t suppose…?”

He didn’t need to finish; Landon knew what he was thinking. “I guess we need to stick around and let this Alex girl thank you personally.”

Full House(Alex)

2005-04-25T21:36:00.000-04:00

Alex sat in the back of an ambulance, patiently allowing the paramedic to look at her arm and place it in a sling. She had protested to Will about being treated, telling him that it was just a minor wound but he wouldn’t hear of it.

“You might want to have a doctor look at this tomorrow so he can put it back in place” her arm was hung at a comfortable angle in a sling and taped to her side so that her shoulder wouldn’t be moving until she could see the physician. “This will keep you from doing any more damage to it tonight.” Alex smiled a ‘thank you’ at the man as he removed his blue latex gloves.

Will held a hand out to help her out of the vehicle. “Sam, gentlemen, I’m going to take her back to Nelly’s now.” He waved goodbye to the men still gathered in front of Al’s Diner and taking Alex by the elbow proceeded to guide her through the crowds gathered on the side walk and in the street.

“Did you get a chance to see that kid take out all of those thugs?” Asked Will excitedly after they passed through the congestion at the far end of the street.

“No, he must have been gone by the time I got to your end. I heard Sam and the other’s talking about him though. Glad he was on our side.” She kept a watchful eye on the allies and side streets knowing all to well that those were good places to hide when you’re wanted.

“Yea, too bad we couldn’t have cops like him, then we wouldn’t have problems like this.” Will opened the little side gate that led to the kitchen door of the bed and breakfast.

Alex noticed that there were several lights on in the house, "unusual at this hour." Together they entered the kitchen and were surprised to find Nelly and a man sitting at the table having a cup of tea. Alex eyed the stranger suspiciously while the older woman hastened to her side.

“Oh, you poor dear, come have a seat at the table.” Alex politely declined explaining that the bandage was just a precaution until she could see a doctor. “Oh, and look at your poor dress. Blood won’t come out of that, you know.”

The chiming of the bells at the front door put an end to Nelly’s mothering. Several locals had shown up looking for a warm place to stay due to damage in their flats. The round woman was only too happy to help and babbled non stop as she showed the various ones to their room.

“Looks like you’ll have company for breakfast,” remarked Will as he backed his way towards the screen door.

“Maybe I’ll skip breakfast tomorrow. Don’t much care for eating in large crowds. Besides, Nelly will have plenty of people to fuss over.” Stepping outside with Will she inquired as to who the man was in the kitchen.

“I was wondering when you’d ask me,” smiled Will rubbing the stubble on his chin. “That there is none other than Captain Edwardo, owner of the Sardine. Strange ol’ bird, keeps to himself quite a bit. I can’t fathom what he’s doing over on this side of town, not exactly his type of neighborhood.”

“Do you think he’s connected to the low life’s we just cleaned up?” she glanced into the kitchen window and was relieved to see that the captain was still sitting at the table.

“No, Captain Edwardo is a good guy even though he is friends with some questionable characters. . .”

“Like who?”

Brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes he continued, “Like Quint Yuhasz. Now there’s a fellow who has some stories to be told. He’s alright as long as you don’t give him reason to dislike you. Doesn’t blink an eye at killing people and does it well.” Scratching the back of his head he mumbled something incoherent. “Just keep your eyes open. If you need me, just call.”

Alex turned to go back inside but stopped in her tracks, “Will, thanks for the evening. I know it didn’t go as planned but I still enjoyed going into that Hotel Grande.”

Will smiled shyly and meandered on down the side walk his cheeks glowing bright pink. "Hey, how about we meet up for breakfast in the morning?"he added as an afterthought. It was now Alex's turn to blush as she accepted the invitation.

Returning to the kitchen Alex found the captain still seated at the table with his tea. “Hello, there. You must be Alex that Nelly speaks so fondly of.” Alex nodded her head still trying to size up the man. About that time Nelly flitted into the room her long skirt swishing about her ankles. She was glowing with the excitement of having so many people in her boarding house to tend to.

“The rooms are all filled, only the couch left but if somebody needs it I'll gladly give it to them to sleep on.” Without asking she fixed Alex a cup of tea and refilled Edwardo’s who didn’t seem very happy that she had done so. The look on his face reminded her of a mouse being cornered by a cat. She chuckled at the image causing the captain to raise one of his bushy eyebrows in question.

“Nelly, it be kind of ya to offer me another cup o’ tea but I best be gettin’ back to the Sardine. I don’t like to leave her alone fur to long with mischief like this goin’ on.” The kind woman looked heartbroken at hearing this but saw the old salt to the door with an invitation to come back again.

“What was that all about?” asked Alex the moment Nelly returned to the kitchen.

“The sweet man was just tending to a friend of his that fell victim to some hoodlums.”
Remembering what Will had told her Alex quickly asked if the ‘victim’ was a Quint fellow. “Certainly not!” Her face turned an angry red, “What kind of a place do you think I’m running here?”

Alex apologized for offending her and quickly changed the subject. After discussing the evening’s events, the girl excused herself to retire for the night. Upon entering the upstairs she found a line at the bathroom door made up of two young children an elderly man, and a woman about Nelly’s age. Too tired to wait, she accepted the fact that she would have to go to bed dirty and bloody. Slipping into her room she closed the door without drawing any attention to herself.

Looking in the large mirror she hardly recognized the image as her own. Her once waist length hair was now even with her shoulders and cut in a way that caused it to frame her face. The beautician had added blond highlights to her auburn hair, brightening her face and bringing out her green eyes. The beautiful yellow satin gown clung to her slight frame accentuating her tiny waist. She felt a little guilty at having ruined the delicate dress. Carefully she began removing the tape that pinned her arm to her side. Once the bandage was off she looked at the joint that stood out grotesquely from her body. Not wanting to bother with the doctor she decided to remedy the problem on her own, taking a deep breath she slammed her shoulder into the wall knocking her arm back into its place. She wiped the tears that streamed down her face from the pain and proceeded to dress for bed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed she opened the little box that had mysteriously appeared in her saddlebags. Expecting to see one of the many happy images she was dissappointed to see nothing. Furrowing her brow in confussion she peered into the box at the ornate key, “I wonder,” with tentative fingers she reached for the key and was surprised by how cold the metal felt under her fingertips. Holding her breath she removed the key, studying it under the light on the desk. “Now what do you suppose this means?” Not wanting to put it back in the box for fear of not being able to remove it again, she found a leather cord to slip it on and tied it around her neck. Where the key rested on her chest she felt warmth that seeped into her bones making her feel relaxed and at peace. Turning off the lights, she quickly fell into a peaceful sleep, an occurrence that didn’t often happen.

Naked between the sheets (Quint, Edwardo,Nelly)

2005-04-24T19:35:00.000-04:00

Quint's bed at Nelly's B&B

I awoke to the sound of voices speaking softly, I kept my eyes closed and listened in on the quiet conversation.

“Is he going to be all right? It gave me a terrible fright when I went in the bathroom and seen all that blood splattered about. It’s a good thing you arrived when you did for I was just going to call Doctor Kildare whether my new guest liked it or not. I’ve bandaged a few cuts and scrapes in my time, but I’ve never seen so many serious wounds on a person and you did such a wonderful job taking care of them, even with your poor hurt hands; very gentle and strong hands I might add” said the sweet voice of Miss. Nelly.

“He’ll be just fine in no time, could have taken care of those little scratches himself if he’d of used his sorry head. He had the salve in hand and was just too lazy to apply it, but he’s always been an aggravating sort of swab” grumbled Edwardo in a gruff voice.

“Maybe so, but I saw how you took care of him and how you looked at him, you care a lot for that man and it’s no use in denying it. You’re a good, kind man Captain Edwardo and handsome to boot. When he said his friend’s name was Edwardo I didn’t recognize it as being you without the title of ‘Captain’ in use with your name. You have quite an admirable reputation for a sailor man and almost all the widows I know seem to bring up your name a lot, not that I listen to their silly gossip of course” Nelly said as if trying to cover her tracks. “What about the circle in the middle of his chest, aren’t you going to do something with that?”

“No, that particular spot will remain for ever, it’s a part of his being” the skipper said as if his thoughts were suddenly elsewhere.

I opened my eyes to see what had distracted Edwardo and what I saw was him and Miss Nelly standing at the foot of the bed looking at me.

“Oh, he’s finally awake” said Nelly smiling and obviously relieved.

“Yes, he’s awake, has been for a time now and been listening in on our private conversation I do believe, that’s just the kind he is and you be unfortunate enough to have ‘em staying under yer roof” growled the skipper as he frowned at me.

I sat up in the comfortable bed expecting to feel the broken ribs protest, but I felt no pain at all, that is except for acute discomfort in my right shoulder. Looking at my left side where the broken ribs should have been all I saw was a large black and blue bruise. The bullet wounds on my right side were now just puckered red scars as was the stab wounds and knife cuts and I figured the bullet wound in my leg was in a similar healed condition. I took hold of the clean white sheet that I was under with the intent of tossing it back and getting out of bed, but the skipper stopped me by holding up his hand palm outward. It was then I noticed his hands, both were wrapped in white bandages.

“Mate, ya best belay coming out of that rack just yet” said the captain with a smile.

Lifting the sheet I peered under the soft cotton covering and had to agree with the skipper for I didn’t have a stitch of clothing on me.

“Um, yeal, reckon so” I said sitting back in the bed. “What happened to your hands?”

“Burned ‘em a tad, nothing serious” said the captain putting his hands out of sight behind his back.

“How’d ya burn ‘em?” I asked for I felt there was a lot more to this then met the eye.

“I burned ‘em by touching somethin’ hot, ya darn idiot. How do ya reckon a man gets burned, ya thick headed deck ape?” blurted the skipper with irritation in his voice.

“Okay, have it your way. Thanks for comin’ over and’ takin’ care of me. I’m glad ya weren’t out on the water an’ that Weasel found ya.”

“Uh-huh, that’s another somethin’ I aim to talk to ya about, sending that little rat to me boat, came within a hair of blowing his greasy head off I did. Would have done it too ifn’ he hadn’t of spoken up right quick” said the captain glaring at me.

I shifted in the bed and a stab of pain in my shoulder caused me to wince, Edwardo and Miss Nelly noticed at once.

“You need to rest some now, that shoulder wound will take a while to heal, it’s not like other wounds you’ve experienced” captain Edwardo said with the concern showing on his face.

“Yeal, I am kind of tired, but there’s more I could do with then just rest, I need some clothes. Not much sense in you going to my room at the Serendipity, Phae isn't likely to let anyone in my room without my personal permission. Is there any place nearby where you might get me some duds?” I asked hopefully as I fought off the sleep that was creeping over me.

“Why yes there is” said Miss Nelly cheerfully. Armani’s is in the neighborhood and he has all kinds of men’s wear and he can make just about anything out of any material. Just tell me what sizes you need and I’ll give him a call right now” the plump little woman said as she smiled warmly.

“Armani, George Armani?” I asked.

“Why yes! Do you know him?” she asked seeming surprised that I knew the name.

“Uh-huh, and he knows me as he’s made clothes and…stuff, for me before, He knows my size so just tell him ‘Q.Y.’ needs clothes from the skin out except for boots. He’ll know who you mean and he’ll also know that he’lll be paid for the items.

“Okay, I’ll call him” Miss Nelly said cheerfully.

Miss Nelly turned to leave then stopped and did an about face looking at me once more, a question clearly on her mind.

“By-the-way, what is you name?”

I didn’t get a chance to reply for Edwardo took hold of the woman’s elbow and turned her about again and escorted her to the door.

“We better go and let him rest now, Miss Nelly, those wounds have really pulled him down” the skipper said as he guided the woman out of the room.

Before the door shut I heard the woman coo softly “Oh, please, call me Nelly, okay, Edwardo. You do have the softest touch, I love the feel of your hand on my arm, maybe some nice hot tea and”……

The door shut and I heard no more, I fail asleep with a grin plastered across my unshaven face as I thought of ways to break this news to Miss Kitty at the Purple Onion.

Dressed in drag (Quint, Nelly)

2005-04-24T19:19:00.000-04:00

Bandaid for Quint.

I allowed the pleasant little talkative woman to support me by the elbow as we climbed to the second floor, I felt certain that if I made any comment to the fact that should I fall she wouldn’t be able to support my weight it would have been wasted breath, so I didn’t even bother and just listened to her continuous chatter

“You poor man, getting caught out there with all those ruffians running around, trash, just pure trash is what they are, but they’re being taught a lesson this evening, one they won’t soon forget, at least the ones that live so you needn’t worry about them anymore. I wish I were a few years younger so I could be out there, I’d teach them all right. Aw, here we are, this will be your room right here” she said finally taking a breath and opening the last door on the left. “And right here is the bathroom. You’ll find some plastic bags in the cabinet under the sink, just toss those filthy rags of yours in the bag and we’ll see about getting you some decent clothes later. You’ll see the clean towels and wash cloths on the shelf and soap and shampoo on the tub’s edge, just help yourself. There’s a small first aid kit under the sink, you look like you will need that and probably more. I’ll hang a robe on the outside doorknob so that you won’t have to traipse to your room in naught but your skin” a slight flush came over her face as she said the last and then taking a deep breath she started talking again.

“While you’re bathing I’ll call Doctor Kildare, he’s getting on in years, but knows his business and will still make house calls when needed.”

“No, no doctor if you don’t mind. I hope I haven’t been too presumptuous, but I sent word for a friend of mine to come here and he’s a right handy fella with injuries like mine and I trust him completely. He should be showing up soon, name of Edwardo” I said hoping she wouldn’t object.

“Edwardo? Hmmm, seems I’ve heard that name mentioned before, it’ll come to me eventually, but if that’s who you want I’ll bring him up to your room when he arrives. Now you go on and then get straight in bed after your bath. I swear you’re looking paler by the second” the talkative little woman said as she pushed me gently into the spotless little bathroom.

“Thank you Ma’am, I’m much obliged” I said as I closed the door softly behind me and took as deep a breath as my fractured ribs would allow.

Then through the closed door I hear “My name’s Nelly, just thump on the floor or call out if you need anything Mister …?”

Reaching out I pushed the flush lever on the commode as I mumbled a word and it seemed to work for I heard footsteps quickly retreating down the short hallway. It proved to be an ordeal removing my boots, but I finally got it done and used one of them for a depository for my knives and sheaths and the little round tin containing the healing salve. My empty shoulder rig and gun belt were still in good shape having incurred only minor scratches and cuts so I deposited them atop my boots, all my ragged and bloody clothes went into a garbage bag for they were completely beyond cleaning and repair.

I took a shower instead of a bath for I was never particularly partial to soaking in a tub, besides, I would have left one hell of a nasty ring around the sparkling clean bathtub. In addition to the four bullet wounds I found three nasty knife cuts and one stab hole and countless other scratches and scrapes. Most of the major wounds only seeped a small amount of blood, but the shoulder wound was still bleeding pretty heavily. I considered retrieving the tin of healing salve from my boot, but I just wasn’t up to fooling with it right now.

In the first aid kit I found some 4x4 gauze pads, but no tape to hold them in place. A further search under the sink turned up a roll of duct tape, it would have to do for now. So using the 4x4s and duct tape I soon had my body looking like a patched up ventilation system, but at least I wouldn’t be leaking blood all over the place.

Hanging on the outside of the bathroom door knob I found the promised bathrobe and I wasn’t overly pleased about what I found, but having no choice I put the thing on. The robe ended well above my knees, was impossibly tight around and under my arms, was a silky pink material and was covered in bright red flowers. Carrying my boots I hurried from the bathroom and into my room for I sure didn’t want to be seen like this as my hard earned reputation wouldn’t be worth squat if I were seen in this get-up. Closing the door and dropping my boots and holsters by the bed I quickly removed the ill fitting robe and tossed it to a chair and then I slid between the clean, fresh smelling sheets and closed my eyes. I was asleep almost instantly.

Empty Stomachs, Full Chaos (Landon,Stan)

2005-04-23T17:40:00.000-04:00

DVA STANDARD ISSUE E-M-P(ELECTRO-MAGNETIC-PULSE) PISTOL

Stan and Landon never made it over to the diner. It looked as though their plans to eat were about to be delayed as the atmosphere about them changed from small town to war zone.

As soon as the two men stepped up on the curb in front of the diner, as if that was the queue, the dregs of humanity poured from the shadows between every shop and structure in eyesight. If there was a shadow, a low life could be seen crawling out of it. Immediately the thugs began breaking windows of the shops and vehicles. Cars were stopped in the streets and passengers flung to the pavement. It seemed an all out riot had erupted.

Landon and Stan ran toward the diner and placed their backs together as their shoulders touched the cold brick wall. This was not their fight, not their mission and they couldn’t let it interfere with the task at hand. Or so that was the plan.
Suddenly two shots were fired a short distance down the street and then more rang out. This was no longer a simple riot. It had become a small war and Death lingered near by to collect its prizes.
With the first shot, Landon pulled his pistols and energized them. The hum of the futuristic weapons seemed loud to Stan. That sound had haunted his dreams ever since the death and disappearance of his parents. A rage built inside of Stan fueled by an aging anger of the weapons sound and compounded by the chaos about him.
Landon noticed a blue glow emanating from behind him. He turned just as Stan, in a brilliant blue aura, reached out with one massive arm and his hand latched around the neck of a scruffy looking mobster running by to closely. With out any show of strain or resistance, Stan stopped the man dead in his tracks and threw the ruffian backwards to the concrete. The sound of his neck snapping in Stan’s hand was heard just as he released the throat. The thug bounced once and settled into a lifeless heap in front of the diner door. Now Stan was in full rage. He had never killed before. He found it to be an exhilarating relief for years of stored anger. Logic and caution aside, Stan ran out into the midst of a pack of 5 scumbags and began to dispatch them one at first, then two at a time. Despite a knife thrust under his rib and a 2-inch pipe across his neck, Stan continued his therapy without faltering.

Landon stood against the building, occasionally firing a pulse down the street or across the way at a weapon wielding thug but no low life could step with in a 20 foot radius of Stan with out the young man striking out with indescribable speed and ending the would be attackers future. Landon mostly just watched in astonishment.

After the sounds of chaos had settled and distant sirens could be heard Landon walked towards Stans kill zone.

“Stan! Stan it’s over Stan! C’mon back bud, it’s over.” Landon spoke loudly and then softer as he got closer to the living weapon and protégé.
“Whoa now. It’s me, your buddy Lan. Take it easy, it’s over, they’re gone.”
Landon continued to navigate his way over and around fallen attackers until he was able to place a firm hand on Stans right shoulder. “It’s over,” He said under his breath.

Stan turned around slowly. He was as calm as a babe in its mother’s arms. “I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop Lan. It felt…it felt… good.” He spoke softly.

Landon leaned down and picked up a bent pipe and looked at it in amazement. “It’s ok kid. Howya feelin’?”

“I’m fine. Actually I feel great! Are you ok?” Stan looked at his partner who was holding the bent pipe and trying to sneak a peak at Stan’s neck.

“Oh yeah. I’m good to go but uh…”

“But what?” Stan asked.

“I think we have a problem.” Landon pointed at the knife whose handle was protruding out from Stan’s right ribcage.

“Huh, that’s weird.” Stan nonchalantly reached down and pulled the knife free, as if plucking a weed from the ground, revealing 7 inches of bloody steel. Blood began to pour from the wound then it was replaced by something bizarre. A softly glowing blue light began to seep out in place of the blood. It flowed like blood. It covered like blood but it was pure light. Landon tried to wipe at it but his hand went right through it. Both men just stood in the street watching the light close the wound until only a red scratch remained.

A blast from a large fire trucks horn snapped the two men back to the street. They became aware of emergency vehicles and personnel all over. Bodies were being covered, fires retarded and questions were being asked of the armed shopkeepers.

“C’mon, we need to get off the street.” Landon directed Stan. “I saw a small bed and breakfast just down the street a bit. We can get cleaned up and maybe figure out what just happened.”

“Yeah we better go. Besides, my neck feels a little stiff and I’m starvin’ now.” Stan agreed.
Landon slapped Stan on the back as they started toward the bed and breakfast. “Damn I’m glad I didn’t have to kick your tail back at the room.” Landon chuckled.

Stan looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Um…yeah…ok”.

Back to the future (Quint)

2005-04-21T22:16:00.000-04:00

Try though I may I couldn’t seem to gain any ground on the woman and I needed to catch her if at all possible for she was my only link back to my time. Once I found out from her how to get back then I would kill her, something I was looking forward to after all the problems she had caused me. Running was difficult with my wounded leg and the pair of rounds I had taken in my right side were feeling a little uncomfortable, but the thing that hurt the worst was the shoulder wound and it was bleeding heavily.

There she was now just a few paces ahead, maybe I was closing on her after all. Gritting my teeth against the pain I forced my legs to pump harder and it was paying off for she was just out of reach. She ran between the dark trunks of two large trees and I made a leaping lunge in order to bring this foot race to an end… and I crashed smack into a brick wall.

Laying there smelling wet pavement…pavement? My senses were spinning as star burst filled my vision. I shook my head in a desperate attempt to clear my sight which seemed to work to some extent, but it caused my head to hurt so badly I quit that maneuver almost immediately. I was still lying face down and now I could see for a fact that I was lying on wet pavement for I had myself an extremely close-up view of the tar material, then another of my senses became active, hearing, I heard voices, two of them and they were approaching slowly and steadily. What the voices were saying didn’t sound good, at least not for me in my present condition with both arms penned under my own body, it’s a wonder I hadn’t impaled myself on the knifes I still clutched in each hand. All I could do was listen to the conversation and hope that my muscles would respond soon, very soon.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………

“I tell ya I seen him come flying out of the side of that brick wall an’ smack head first into the wall on the other side of the alley”.

“Tick, men don’t come flying out of walls, more likely then not he fell, or got tossed, off the top of the building, probably dead and ifn’ he ain’t then we’ll take care of that little detail right quick”.

“Say what you want Turley, but I know what I seen, but makes no never mind for what’s more important I know what I heard and I heard the sound of coin when he splattered to the asphalt. What ever this fella has is ours and I don’t mean to share any of it with that little stinking coward back there” said Tick with a jab of his thumb back toward the alley entrance.”

“You’re forgettin’ he’s the one as kept us from gettin’ killed out there in the street and guided us back here where we can wait out them shop owners. Who would of figured the fat little shopkeepers and grocers would put up a fight like that? Reckon us three is the only ones left alive and it’s because of that little sneaks sharp eyes and quick thinkin', so just remember that” said Turley emphasizing his last two words.

“There he lays, hard to tell in this light for sure, but looked to me like he’s breathing” whispered Tick to his crony.

“If he is it won’t be fer long” said Turley as he produced a large fish scaling knife from his waste band.

The two thugs moved cautiously closer to the dark figure that lay face down in the stinking alley and Turley lashed out with his right boot striking the prone man hard enough that the sound of a rib or two breaking was sharp and clear in the narrow alleyway. The kick had enough force behind it to roll the man over on his back and the two thugs stood bug eyed when they saw what the man in black had gripped in each fist and they shivered when they saw the coal black eyes locked on them. Both of the street bullies started to step back, but they never got to complete a single step.

……………………………………………………………………………………

I heard their conversation clearly and there intent was plain and still I couldn’t get my muscles to cooperate, even when they stood within a short arms distance all I could do was lay helplessly only being able to move my head. Then one of them kicked me, kicked me viciously in the ribs and pain raced along every nerve of my body as full filling was instantly restored. The force of the kick rolled me onto my back and I almost felt like thanking them for giving me felling back…almost. Instead I lurched up to my knees and jabbed forward with both blades and simultaneous buried the two blades to the hilts and ripped upwards till the knife points clove the two black hearts in half. Their blood soaked both my arms and their intestines spilled on the filthy ground in front of me as both men crumbled, one to the left and the other to the right…perfect.

The busted ribs made it difficult for me to breathe, much less to get to my feet, but I managed it and limped toward the alley opening knowing that another thug was supposed to be waiting there. He was there all right and his eyes were glued on the street in front of him for he either didn’t hear me from all the sirens or else he figured it had to be his friends returning. Moving up behind the little man I slipped the keen edge of my survival knife under his throat and spoke quietly in his filthy ear.

“Hello Weasel, are we out playing tonight?”

“I didn’t do nothin’, I swear it on my Mother’s grave! I was just walking down the sidewalk and all of a sudden all hell broke loose, honest, I wouldn’t lie to you friend” pleaded the quaking little man trying not to move a muscle as the blade pressed against his tender neck.

Grabbing the mousey little thug by the shoulder I spun him about slamming his back against the brick of the building and increased the pressure on my knife ever so slightly as I watched all color drain from the little thief’s face.

“Weasel, you’d lie to your maker if you thought you’d get by with it. Now what’s going on around here?”

“Oh shit! Not you! Word was you were dead or out of town or somethin’. Tick? Turley? You didn’t….yeal, reckon you did, don’t even know why I’m askin” Weasel said resigned to his fate.

“Those two ain’t no more and you won’t be either if ya don’t answer my question…what’s happening here, Cops and fire trucks racing around all over the place out there? You haven’t been playing with matches again have you?” I asked with a crooked smile for I knew that Weasel had done a little arson work from time-to-time.

“No, nothin’ like that, it was a simple little neighborhood roust, or at least that’s what it was supposed to have been. Seems the people here ain’t so soft after all, wiped out the whole bunch that came up from Red Lantern, I’m the only one left…or I was the only one left” said Weasel swallowing hard and causing the blade to nick his stinking hide slightly.

“Weasel, you may just survive this night after all, that is if you do as I say.”

“Sure, anything you say Quint, just name it.”

“Good boy. First, is there a hotel or something around here nearby and I don’t mean one of the fleabags you find accommodating?”

“No, no hotels, but right down the road here to the left I saw one of those bed and breakfast places. Someone once told me it was a good place with good home cookin” Weasel said with a sound in his voice of hoping that the answer was the correct one.

“Okay, let’s try and see how you do with another hard question. Are you familiar with the fishing boat Sardine and her skipper?”

Weasel shuddered slightly before answering, “Yeal, know the boat and know of Captain Edwardo and know that he’s a friend of yours, hell, everybody in the Lantern knows he’s your friend and it's strictly taboo.”

“Now that is good to hear” I said easing the pressure on the knife just a fraction and getting a quivering smile from Weasel. “Here’s what I want you to do. Go to the Sardine and tell the Skipper I'm at that bed and breakfast you mentioned and tell him to bring his kit, he’ll know what I mean. Weasel, you go straight there from here and you go at a run and I think you know the cost if you try to screw me over” I leaned forward so that he could look me clear in the eyes when I said the last.

I heard, and smelled, the little man’s bladder let go, “yeal I know. Just let me go and he’ll have your message within the hour, I swear it on my life.”

“Uh-huh, I’ll be holdin’ ya to that oath. One more thing before I let you go, you tell your friends exactly where I’m staying and that they better make a wide detour around that place or I’ll….well, you know the rest” I said grinning evilly.

“Yeal, sure, no problem. Please, Quint, can I go now…my socks are wet?”

Taking the knife from Weasel’s throat I shoved him staggering out onto the sidewalk where he quickly regained his balance as he looked around in fear then bolted away. I left the alley and went in search of the boarding house hoping it wasn’t far and that the owner would take me in, considering the shape I was in it was questionable at best. Weasel told the truth, for once, the bed and breakfast was only a little over a block away, which was good cause I didn’t know if I could make it much further. A small, neatly painted sign in front of a large white house with a picket fence declared this to be Nelly’s Bed & Breakfast.

Unlatching the newly painted gate and closing it gently behind me I started up the few steps that led to the front door, I swayed slightly as my strength was starting to fell me. Standing straight and ignoring the pain the effort cost me I put a bloody finger to the little doorbell button and heard chiming someplace within. After a minute or so I heard footsteps approach the door and then the click of the deadbolt being released, the door opened a crack and I could see the security chain in place and then a little face appeared in the opening and the eye that I saw opened somewhat wider at what it beheld.

“If you’re one of them ruffians then you get away from here right now, I mean it, now shoo!” the woman said sounding exasperated and without fear.

“I’m no ruffian Ma’am. Couple of thugs attempted to mug me back there in an alley, kind of mussed me up a bit. I need a place to lay up and mend if you’ll oblige, I’ve got money and can pay for my keep” as I said this I pulled some gold pieces from the pocket of my shredded coat and displayed the glittering coins in my bloody palm for the woman to see.

Her mouth dropped open and her eye opened wide, to me it didn’t seem that it was the amount of money or that it was gold that had surprised her, it appeared to me that she had seen coins like this before. The door closed and I could hear the security chain being removed then the door opened all the way and before me stood a plump little lady with the kindest face I had seen in a long time.

“Oh dear, you are a fright to behold!. Come on in, poor man, I’ll help you upstairs and to the bath cause you’ll not be getting in one of my beds all filthy like that. Is that blood all over you?”

The door shut behind me as the little lady took me by the elbow and guided me to the stairs tsking and chattering the whole time.

Two of a kind (Quint, Calib)

2005-04-20T20:51:00.000-04:00

Quint's survival knife.

I pulled my mount to a halt at the edge of the trees, about a mile or so out in the middle of an open grassy area I could see the few rough little structures that comprised the community of Denver; a far cry from the metropolis it would become in the next hundred and fifty years. As I looked south to the barley visible little trading post the waning rays of the setting sun highlighted tendrils of smoke that arose from campfires scattered around the trade center, it appeared business was good at this frontier outpost.

I dismounted as an uneasy feeling came over me of being watched and sitting up on the back of a horse just made me too vulnerable a target. Bending on the pretense of checking the gelding’s left front foreleg I felt for the derringers in each boot, both were there and I discretely palmed the one from my left leg; the familiar light pressure on the top of my head let me know the little two shot pistol in my cap was still in place.

The feeling of being watched persisted and staying put didn’t present any kind of advantage, so seeing no sense in putting off the inevitable any longer I walked from the trees with the horse’s reins in my left hand and the derringer in the palm of my right. I had only gone about twenty feet when I noticed a figure move out from the tree line about fifty yards to my left, I stopped and turned to face the large bearded man that moved out into the grassy plain and halted almost parallel to my position and then he turned to face in my direction. In the failing light and at this distance I couldn’t make out the fine details of his features, but he seemed strangely familiar to me.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

Calib squatted just inside the tree line on the northern side of the plain that surrounded Denver for he knew his quary would approach from that direction. The mountain man checked his newly acquired pistol once again, he didn’t like going into a fight with an unfamiliar weapon, but adapting to a weapon had never been much of a challenge to him, the use of weapons of all types seemed to be second nature to Calib.

A whisper of sound alerted Calib that there was someone moving a good distance off to his right, hearing the sound again he recognized it for what it was, the creaking of saddle leather; Quint Yuhasz had finally arrived. Calib stood slowly, his back against a large tree as he watched for the man in black to show himself. Calib couldn’t have said why, but he knew that the horseman would come out into the open to confront him and Calib also knew that this man Quint was aware of his presence.

The sun sank a little lower in the west, its weak light painting a serene scene on the quiet grassy plain, a serenity and quietness that was destined to be short lived as the horseman, now on foot, strolled out into the tall grass. Calib watched the other man a few moments before leaving his own place of concealment, there was something oddly familiar about the man’s movements.

Calib stepped from the trees and the other man halted immediately and turned to face him, Calib continued his short purposeful walk till he was even with the other, then he too stopped and turned to face his adversary. He was too far away to say for sure, but Calib felt sure he had seen this Quint fella before; made no difference though for he knew he would be seeing the last of him very, very soon.

……………………………………………………………………………………

The two men eyed each other curiously for several moments then moved cautiously toward each other, the horseman having dropped the animal’s reins leaving the beast to graze leisurely and totally unconcerned about the deadly drama that was unfolding. When the distance between the two men had narrowed to around thirty yards both men, as if on signal, dove to their right as they raised their right arm and fired….both narrowly missed.

Each man rolled several times to the right after landing flat in the grass and then quickly took a one kneed kneeling position with arm outstretched for another shot only to see the other man in the exact same position and with a pointed weapon in hand. Simultaneously the men fell to their left as they squeezed off another round, this time each hit his target inflicting a minor, but painful would to the others right shoulder.

If both men had been bearded and dressed the same an observer would have thought he was seeing a single man with a large mirror placed in from of him. The two men lying in the grass also realized how strange, and dangerous, this confrontation was turning out to be. Both of the killers also knew that if they continued in this manner they would each end up shot to pieces and dead, not exactly a great prospect to either of them.

As the two combatants squirmed through the grass toward each other and unexpected turn of events changed the deadly duel into something all together different. Out of the trees to left and right charged two separate groups of men with rifles and pistols in hand and a woman stood at the edge of the trees screaming viciously.

“Kill them! Kill them both! Kill them now!” she screeched in an ear splitting shriek.

Calib and Quint both jumped to their feet and found that only about ten yards now separated them. Both men registered shock upon recognizing the other, but there was no time to attempt understanding as lead was now whipping by them as the two groups of bewitched frontiersmen opened fire. Calib and Quint stole a quick look at the charging men then turned and looked each other in the eye reaching an understanding without ever speaking a single word.

Quint snatched the derringer from his right boot and squeezed off the two rounds so fast they sounded as one, two of the charging figures were dead before they ever hit the ground. Calib’s revolver still held four balls and he let the hammer drop twice and two of the group in front of him staggered and fell.

From the corner of his eye Calib saw the man in black do a peculiar thing, he had grabbed the funny looking hat from his head and was groping around inside the strange looking headwear and at that very moment one of the fur traders was leveling his rifle and taking aim at Quint. Calib didn’t hesitate, fortunately for Quint, Calib fired and his aim was true for the rifle dropped from the lifeless fingers of the would be shooter.

Quint saw what had just occurred, but there was no time for a display of gratitude for even before he could pull the derringer clear of his hat he fired at a bearded mountain man who had a pistol aimed at Black. The 44 round punctured a smoldering hole in Quint’s hat and then produced a similar hole in the temple of the man with the leveled pistol. Now it was Calib’s turn to witness his enemy saving his life, it was a strange turn of events and one that the screaming woman didn’t appreciate judging by the increased volume of her voice and the flickering fire that sparked from her glowing red eyes.

Calib and Quint didn’t have much time to spare on the female for there were still several men on their feet and each had a firearm ready for action. Quint staggered from the impact of a ball hitting his leg, but he managed to stay on his feet and fire his last round at the shooter who spun about and fell in an unmoving heap. There was no time to reload the little pistol so Quint let go of the empty derringer and grabbed the survival knife and the hunting knife from their sheaths and them made a limping charge at the foes before him.

Calib fired his last ball at an oldster who had a big Springfield muzzle loader set for a kill shot, a shot that never got fired. Calib’s satisfaction on seeing the old mountain man fall was short lived as a bullet smacked into his lower right side causing him to fall back a step and drop to one knee. Regaining his feet Calib brought out his hunting knife and his skinning knife and, like Quint, he charged the enemy.

Several more shots rang out and cold steel flashed and then there was silence, even the screaming woman had ceased her demented screeching. Calib and Quint swayed on their feet as they looked about for more enemies, there were none left alive, only the woman remained and she was now silent and glaring at the two fighting men with her fiery red eyes. The two men were covered with blood, much of it their own, but most belonged to their vanquished foes. Both fighters held a red dripping blade in each hand and they turned their attention one on the other as if given some invisible and unheard cue.

“You bastard, you took my money now kill him” hissed the woman breaking the silence that had suddenly descended.

Calib turned his shaggy head and eyed the female, if that is what she was, for she now appeared to his eyes as a creature hideous to behold. Sheathing his knives and reaching into the pocket of his coat the mountain man brought out the small pouch of gold and hefted it in his bloody hand a couple of times before dropping it to the blood soaked earth at his feet, then turning his back on the woman he started to walk away.

Quint showed no emotion at what he had just witnessed, but Calib stopped as Quint voiced the first words spoken from one killer to the other.

“Take the horse. I have unfinished business to take care of here and I have a feeling I’ll not be needin’ the mount any longer”.

Calib didn’t turn to look at Quint as he considered the offer and then he spoke a few quiet words to the man in black.

“Don’t need the horse, ain’t that hungry. I’ll free it of the leather an’ it can run with the Denver broncos”.

With that said Calib strolled off toward where the horse grazed undisturbed by the bloodshed that had taken place less then a hundred yards away. Quint watched the mountain man walk away and he knew that there went a man he never, ever wanted to fight again. Quint turned his attention back to the woman just in time to see her swing her arm forward tossing a spear of what appeared to be red fire at the mountaineer’s back.

Quint’s reaction was instanateous as he dove through the air placing his body between the red shafted spear and Calib’s broad back…and then the most unexpected and unprecidented thing happened that the worldly Quint had ever witnessed… a bird, perhaps a hawk or maybe a large owl, flashed from the dark trees and snatched the burning spear from the air in mid flight, then with a loud cry the bird was gone.

Quint hit the ground hard nearly driving the wind from his lungs, but he saw clearly the bewilderment and fear that crossed the woman’s hideous face and then she screamed and fled into the woods. Quint leapt to his feet and dashed after her as fast as he could at a limping run, knives in hand disembowelment his plan.

At the woman’s scream Calib looked around and saw only the back of the woman as she darted into the woods and Quint at a limping run behind her. The mountain man smiled and continued on his way happy that the man in black wasn’t hunting him.

Chain of Command(Slate, Chief//Riddles, Dylan)

2005-04-19T22:57:00.000-04:00

“We have three of them in the tank, Sir.”

“Just three of them – what happened to the others?” The chief of police looked down at the report on his desk, “says here that the whole neighborhood was targeted and you want me to believe that these three were the only perps.”

“N-no, Sir” stammered the young beat cop, “these were the only ones that we could find alive.”

“Who killed the others?”

“We don’t know, Sir. Nobody seems to have seen anything in the mist of all the confusion.”

“Put the men in separate interrogation rooms; let’s find out what these guys know.” The chief resumed his study of the report giving the police officer his cue to leave the room.

Within a half hour the young man was standing back in front of the chief’s desk all color drained from his face. “What are you doing back in here, Slate?”

“S-sir, the m-men are dead.”

The chief looked up from his paper work, eyeing the young officer suspiciously. “What do you mean ‘dead’?”

“The jailer and I walked down to the cells and found all three of them lying on the floor. No pulse, nothing. The paramedics are on their way now, Sir.”

“Judy!” an immaculately dressed secretary rushed into the office, “Get me Detective Riley on the phone.”

“Yes, Sir,” the lady left for her desk and immediately began looking through her directory for the detective’s number.

“Slate, soon as I finish this call, you and I are going downstairs, I want answers. Nobody dies in my prison unless I say so.” Seeing the phone on his desk light up, he waved a hand to dismiss the officer. “Detective Riley, I have a job for you. . .”

************************************************************************************

“It’s all taken care of, Dylan, no need to worry about the cops tracing anything back to us.”

The bearded man paced the room in annoyance. “I don’t care about the cops, you fool, I want to know who this girl is that keeps killing my men. Before I took out Larry he told me that she single handedly took out three of the boys. What kind of a woman does that?”

Sweat trickled down the sides of Riddles blotchy face, he didn’t like being around Dylan when he was agitated. “She’s just a girl. She’s been lucky is all, we could easily take her out if we wanted to but we agreed to no killings. It’s bad enough that three of those losers got picked up as it is. We don’t need more cops snooping around.”

“I don’t like this, Riddles, I want my money – all of it. I’m not going to be your pawn in this game any longer.” Without warning he pulled a knife from behind his back and held it under the fat man’s chin with just enough pressure to evoke fear. “Do you understand?”

Eyes bulging, the helpless officer slowly nodded his head. Satisfied, Dylan removed the knife. “I want you to do some work for me now. Find out everything you can about this girl – where she lives, what she eats, where she spends her time and with whom…”

“I told you, she’s just a girl. She’s not worth troubling with…”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Looking out the dirty window Dylan warned “Riddles, do this or the cops will have all kinds of interesting information about you. Do I make myself clear.”

“Crystal.” Mopping his forehead with a handkerchief from his pocket, Riddles prepared to leave. “Just tell me why she interests you so much.”

“I don’t know, that’s what bothers me.”

The two parted ways until their next meeting. Dylan was eager to end his association with the officer but he needed him around for just a bit longer. “Patience, Dylan, patience.”

Suburban Assault(Alex)

2005-04-18T23:00:00.000-04:00

They were just cutting into their steaks when the first of what would be several sirens sped past the Minute Man Hotel Grande. Initially they paid no attention to the racket but when the sirens kept blaring by they began to grow anxious. After what was surely the fifth blast of a siren Alex put her fork and knife down and told Will that she wanted to get back to the neighborhood because she had a “bad feeling.” Will didn’t argue with her for he too felt trouble in the air. Signaling the waiter, they quickly retrieved their check without finishing the fine meal. Together they walked briskly through the grand lobby and quickly retrieved the car from the valet. Driving as fast as he legally could, Will took a direct route back to Nelly’s.

The scene that greeted them was like something out of a movie. The entire town was basked in an eerie orange glow from several fires throughout the area. Fire engines were set up at various spots with their crews trying to douse the flames. People were running through the streets screaming and crying. Those that refused to fall victim to the bullies bravely fought the assailants with whatever means necessary, be it guns, knives, clubs, or fists.

Alex told Will to drop her off at the Bed ‘n’ Breakfast so that she could get her stuff and he was to head on to his place to check on his mother and grab his weapons as well. “I can’t just leave you here,” he argued, concern forming lines across his brow.

“I may look fragile in this dress, but I promise you that I can take care of myself.” Reaching into one of her boots she retrieved a small knife. “Always be prepared.” Will shook his head, smiling at her “boy scout” attitude. Without further delay, the young man did as he was directed and left his date as soon as she shut the door to the vehicle.

Alex hiked up her dress and dashed up the steps to her room. Throwing open the door she retrieved the tattered green duffle bag from under the bed. With a speed that came from endless hours of practice, she donned her holster and sling, as an afterthought she grabbed the 30-30 and rushed back out the door.

She had just sprinted up the street to where Ran’s Bakery was when she encountered her first perpetrator to the mayhem. The greasy haired character was coming out of the alley where he had just finished starting a dumpster fire. Alex leveled the Winchester at him and without a word of warning fired a shot that left a gaping hole where his heart used to be. Cocking the gun she slowed her pace ready to be the hunter instead of the hunted.

With all of the noise around her she didn’t hear the man come up behind her grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. Bringing the butt of the 30-30 down she managed to blow out the low life’s knee cap. He fell over in pain his hands holding his wounded leg. In one fluent motion, Alex spun around and fired a bullet into the man’s head. Blood splattered across the bottom of her yellow satin evening gown. Cocking the gun once again she continued her hunt.

She had made her way to the next block without further incident and was relieved to see that the fire crews were doing an excellent job of saving the various shops. The police had finally showed up and with their presence, the ruffians seemed to be dispersing. Alex stood for a moment taking in the scene when without warning she was tackled from the side causing her to fall to the ground and dislocate her right shoulder. With her right arm pinned under her she fished for some kind of weapon with her left but her movement was hindered by the lug lying atop of her. The filthy swine rolled her over onto her back where she came face to face with the ugly brute. He was giving her a toothless smile and the smell of him made her gag.

“Hello, missy, come out to play with the boys have ya?” He made an effort to kiss her but having anticipated his move Alex jerked her head to the side causing the man to collide with the asphalt. This gave her just enough time to grab one of the six shooters.

Not waiting for his next move she stuck the barrel of the gun in his ribs. “Get off of me, you pig,” she spoke the words from behind clenched teeth. The grungy lout got slowly to his feet while the girl kept him covered with her gun. Once he was standing erect she fired two shots, one into his groin and the other into his gaping mouth.

Cradling her sore arm she strolled up the street to Al’s Diner where she found Sam, Will, and some of the other shopkeepers. Upon seeing her covered in blood and holding her arm, William rushed over to her. “Are you alright?” He put a protective arm around her and brought her over to a chair where he proceeded to look her over.

“I’m fine, just hurt my shoulder is all. The blood belongs to somebody else.” Surveying the street it was apparent that the perpetrators were gone but the havoc they had caused would take quite a clean up effort. Looking over at Sam she inquired as to what the town would do now.

“Rebuild, repaint, we’ll be fine. The important thing is that nobody was killed.” Nods of agreement went around. Too tired and stunned to talk, they sat there in silence watching the last of the fires being put out.

When Cinderella Leaves(Alex,Will//Dylan)

2005-04-18T17:32:00.000-04:00

They spent the entire afternoon scouring the shops for just the right dress. Alex didn’t really like any of them, feeling that they were much too revealing but both Nelly and Ran insisted that only a dress would do. They did give in and allow for a dress with complete back coverage; Alex didn’t want everybody gawking at her scarred back. After finally finding the “perfect” dress, they whisked the cowgirl away to a beauty salon to have something done with her hair. She didn’t see what all the fuss was about but by the time the stylist was done, even Alex had to admit that she liked the new look.

Before long the clock in the sitting room began to chime announcing that the hour had arrived for the “big date.” Nelly flitted around Alex, smoothing her dress, fluffing her hair, and adding just a “touch of make up to bring out your features.” The young girl remained silent during the ordeal, allowing the sweet lady to have fun. She knew that the proprietor had taken an emotional attachment to her, thinking of her more as a daughter than a guest. She really didn’t mind too much, it was kind of nice having a mother figure around again after all of these years.

“Hello!? Miss Nelly?” called Will from the kitchen; he always used the kitchen door out of habit from his deliveries.

Nelly bustled into the kitchen unable to hide her beaming smile. She had taken a position by the counter so that she could see Will’s first expression when the young girl made her appearance. Alex entered the familiar room as if the wind had carried her. The sunlight coming in through the windows silhouetted her slender frame giving her an ethereal glow. Nelly took her eyes off of the lovely vision to sneak a peak at Will who stood with his mouth hanging open. Feeling pleased with the results she gave herself a mental pat on the back.

“Wow!!” Uttered Will as he finally found his voice again, “You look beautiful.” Alex’s cheeks turned a bright red and she muttered a thanks. She felt way too done up but trusted Nelly’s judgment. Extending his arm the two young people left the house strolling arm in arm up the street. “I’ve got to pick up the car from a friend of mine; he just lives around the corner. I hope you don’t mind the walk.”

Alex smiled at the boy’s awkwardness but decided that she couldn’t stand feeling this uncomfortable with him all evening. Stopping in her tracks she turned to face Will who was looking at her baffled. “Look, Will, I know I look a little different but it’s still the same old me.” Hiking up her dress she revealed her black cowboy boots which brought a round of laughter from both of them. Having succeeded in breaking the ice, they continued on their walk behaving like the friends that they were.

It wasn’t long after acquiring the vehicle that Alex found herself standing in front of a large ornate building. She brought a shaking hand up to her throat as she forced herself to breath. Never had she seen such a lovely building, much less been inside of one. Reading the uncertainty on her face, Will gently took her hand in his and guided her through the large glass doors that had been opened for them.

Alex let out an audible gasp upon entering the lobby. Will stood still, allowing her to take in the beautiful Hotel Grande. The highly polished marbled floors reflected the light causing the place to literally sparkle. She watched the glass and gold elevators move up and down disappearing from view after the forth floor. She craned her neck to see the gold trimmed cathedral ceiling. “This is beautiful, Will.” The boy smiled, this was exactly the effect that he was hoping the place would have on her.

Placing her hand on his forearm, he escorted her to a room at the far end of the lobby where soft piano music issued forth. “Good evening.” Greeted the matre de, “Will there be only the two of you dining with us tonight.” Will confirmed this in an unnaturally deep voice and the two of them were quickly seated at a square cherry wood table in the middle of the room. Handing over the menu and reciting the soup and wine of the day, the tall gentleman left them alone.

*************************************************************************************

Dylan wasn’t surprised that a few of the idiots were late; he had actually calculated this into his plans. However, what he was not prepared for was a phone call from Riddles saying that he couldn’t guarantee that the cops wouldn’t show up. Dylan was more than ready to throw in the towel, after all he didn’t care about the neighborhood either way, but Riddles offered more money. Even Dylan had his price. He agreed to go along with the plan on one condition, that he would not be on sight, he would have to trust the hired thugs to follow through with the orders on their own – something he doubted they were capable of doing.

At a quarter to seven they left Red Lantern Alley heading for their intended target. Dylan shook his head in exasperation as he listened to the childish banter of the men. He knew without a doubt that none of them would live to see the rising of the sun.

**************************************************************************************

They hit the street like a pack of wild animals, screaming and shouting profanities, grabbing women on the sidewalk and harassing them, throwing rocks through store windows and bashing cars with bats. Pandemonium broke out in the peaceful neighborhood until Sam fired his rifle into the air catching the attention of the residents.

“Listen, this is what we have been training for,” his voice carried into the street as a throng of people gathered around for guidance. “Get your weapons, man your stations, and proceed as we have practiced.” With military precision, the crowd dispersed in order to prepare for battle. Nobody even noticed that Alex and Will were missing.

Gummin' a gun. (Calib)

2005-04-18T10:56:00.000-04:00

The trading post.

About an hour of walking northward brought me to the small brook I recalled passing earlier today and turning off the trail I soon located a suitable camp sight. I was too sore and tired to do more then strip the saddle from the gelding and put the horse on a ground picket line. Taking the saddle blanket and using the saddle as a pillow I found a soft spot to stretch out and was soon asleep.

Awakening before dawn I hobbled over to the rushing creek and washed the crusted blood and dirt from my aching body and then, not wanting to build a fire, I took a dried apple from the burlap sack that would have to suffice as my breakfast and as I crunched on the apple I contemplated my next move. I didn’t think my ambusher would still be in the area of the pass, but I wasn’t going to chance it, I would go around. It would take a little longer for I would have to find my own route, but for some reason I felt no anxiety about trekking into the mountains, it somehow felt familiar and natural.

While saddling the horse I gave thought to the man, Calib Black, who was hunting me. That he was a hired killer I had been told, that he was so skilled I had not expected. Attempts on my life were nothing new, how close this man was coming to completing the task was definitely a new experience for me. Only my instincts had saved me and only at the last possible moment, that was something I didn’t want to rely on totally and for the first time I could recall I felt a touch of apprehension about the possibility of death.

Getting in the saddle I guided my horse west by south toward the higher and less hospitable mountains. This detour would cost me a couple of extra days of travel, but it would give my body time to recover from the recent abuse inflicted upon it. Fortunately I had sustained no major injuries, but I knew it must appear that I had been flogged with a brier switch. My wounds would mend and most likely just in time to confront Mister Calib Black once more, but I felt our next meeting would be face-to-face and one of us wouldn’t be leaving.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

Calib traveled quickly on foot, he was accustomed to using his own legs for getting about the country and his stride was long and quick with no wasted motion. It took him four days to reach the little upstart post of Denver, he could have done it in three but catching and gathering food took time.

Denver consisted of nothing more then a rough log trading post with a sod roof and a few small shacks constructed of the same materials. The little outpost was becoming a popular gathering spot of the trappers and hunters, mainly due to the fact that the owner of the little store distilled a good quality whiskey. Judging by the number of campsites in the area there were a good many fur traders in to sell their pelts and partake of the liquor.

Calib didn’t like being around people, but it was sometimes necessary and this was one of those times. Emerging from the tree line he crossed the expansive open area to the trading post and was aware of eyes turned his way from the various camps. Passing one of the small huts he noticed a buggy along side the structure, buggies were an unusual sight in places like this and Calib felt confident that the little sod roofed hut was probably where his female benefactor was holed up.

There were several mountain men lounging around outside the trading post and when they spotted Calib walking toward them they exchanged quick words then fell silent as they watched the mountaineer approach. As he stepped up to the rough structure the men standing there left a wide clear path for him, some even backed off a few paces. These rough and seasoned frontiersmen knew who had walked into their presence and their nervousness was nearly a tangible thing. Calib recognized a couple of the grizzled men that stood around outside, but he offered no sign of greeting as he went down the gently sloped cut that led to the cool dim interior of the store.

Calib entered and moved a step to the side letting his eyes adjust to the dimness, the smell of uncured pelts and skins was pungent, but the strong odor was one that Calib was very familiar with. When the shadowed areas became visible to him Calib surveyed the cramped little space and saw nothing unusual so he went over to the rough plank counter where a rotund bald clerk stood chewing on a straw.

“Whiskey’s 50 cents, U.S. silver” said the chubby little man with the piece of straw dangling from his fat lipped mouth.

“I’m looking to buy a couple of pistols and a rifle if you’ve got ‘em” said Calib ignoring the offer of whiskey.

“Got a pistol, old but works like new, don’t have no rifle fer sale” said the store man as he stretched his hand to the make-shift shelf behind him from which he retrieved an old flint lock pistol that was coated with a thick layer of dust.

Not pleased with what he saw Calib none-the-less took up the weapon to examine it since there were none others to choose from. Using only his small folding pocket knife the hunter completely disassembled the old firearm and found it to be worn, but apparently operational. He wanted to test the weapon before purchasing it so he put the antique pistol back together and as he did so he noticed that a black tar like substance had stained his fingers. Looking more closely at the pistol he spotted the source, tar or perhaps coal oil and wax mixed together had been smeared on the barrel near the area where the small ramrod was held. Rubbing at the spot with his thick callused thumb soon revealed why the substance had been applied and it wasn’t as a preservative; there was a small hair-line fracture on the barrel.

Calib’s reaction was immediate, his big left hand shot out and grabbed a hand full of the fat clerk’s shirt front and yanked the startled man half way across the battered counter.

“This damned thing could of blown my hand off or blinded me” said Calib venomously as he emphasized each word with a smack of the pistol’s barrel on the quivering proprietor’s head.

“I…I swear…I didn’t know there was anything wrong with it” the quaking and sweating man pleaded.

In a blur of motion the pistol barrel slammed across the fat lips of the shop keeper sending blood and teeth across the counter and floor.

You’re a liar an’ I have half a notion to break your filthy neck” hissed Calib into the blubbering man’s blood splattered face. “Now do you have a good rifle or pistol in this place or not?”

“Only my own iron, here under the counter” said the quaking man with difficulty through his smashed lips and spitting broken teeth as he spoke.

Keeping his anger in check, Calib pulled the fat clerk the rest of the way over the counter and tossed him unceremoniously to the dirt floor. Then moving around to the other side of the blood speckled counter Calib quickly saw what he was looking for and immediately snatched it up. It was one of the new Colt percussion cap revolvers and it appeared in excellent condition and was fully loaded. Shoving the big pistol under his belt he looked under the counter once more and found extra caps and rounds which he scoped up and shoved into his raggedy coat’s pocket. Then walking back to the front t of the counter Calib gave the sobbing clerk a hard kick in the ribs and dropped a ten dollar gold piece on the man’s chest.

“That’s for the revolver; if you ever try to pull anything over on me again it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”

Calib didn’t wait for a reply, but instead strolled straight to the portal and exited the trading post; he had a real man to kill.

South to settle it (Calib)

2005-04-16T18:42:00.000-04:00

Stream Calib camped near.

Calib made camp a good distance off the trail along side a cold rushing stream. He washed the dirt and blood from his face, hands and head, all of which were covered with numerous small lacerations, fortunately none were serious. The worst injury seemed to be where the stone had struck him between the eyes causing his left eye to swell nearly shut severely limiting his vision on that side. Calib didn’t think twice about it as he took his skinning knife and slit the blood infused flesh of his eyelid. The procedure only took a moment and after washing the blood from his face once more he had his full peripheral vision restored.

The mountain man set several snares along small game runs and he gathered a large handful of edible plants and roots. He built a small fire using flint and steel to ignite it, then squatting by the flickering little flame he chewed the vegetation as he considered recent events.

Calib was developing a grudging respect for the man Quint, a man who had escaped the lone wolf hunter twice, something no one else had ever accomplished even once. Hunting this man and being hunted by him were proving to be extremely dangerous and a hundred in gold was now looking a lot less appealing. Calib would not quit the job now, though no formal contract had been signed or hand shake given, he had taken on the job and he would complete it or die trying. That there was no body under that rock slide Calib didn’t question, nor did he ask himself why he felt so certain about this, he just knew. No, the new little trading post of Denver would be the end of this hunt one way or another.

Calib awoke when the sun light threw its first fingers of radiance across the morning sky, his body ached and protested, but he ignored the discomfort and headed back to finish his search of the avalanche area. It was as he had expected, there was nothing more to be found. Going to the north end of the pass it didn’t take the mountain man long to find where a horse had stood some time and he easily discerned where the man had returned to his mount and walked it northward sometime last night.

Calib looked to the north and considered whether to track his prey or not, it took only a few moments to reject that ideal. Two attempts at ambushing the man in black had failed; there was no reason to believe that approaching him from behind would prove any more successful. It all came back to Denver, to Denver and a frontal confrontation in the open. Calib turned around and strolled purposefully south.

A reason for everything (Ember, Kutya, Recorder)

2005-04-15T20:41:00.000-04:00

Quint's SOCOM-5
That was much too close, perhaps you should intervene” this from the Recorder and directed at Kutya, but before a reply could be spoken Ember interrupted.

“We are not to interfere, only observe….and learn” was Ember’s flat statement.

The other two turned bright beacon-like eyes toward Ember, they did not need to ask where the directive came from for Ember only answered to and took orders from Him. When Ember received a communications it wasn’t just a cut and dry command, it was the entire thought, reasoning, and understanding that went into the directive and Ember knew it was necessary to convey this meaning to his two companions.

“In order for our charge to understand the meaning of death he must realize that he can die himself. Up to now he has experienced death in a superficial way, not respecting the full consequences for deep within his being the knowledge of his immortality still exist, but now the absoluteness of that basic knowledge is in question. In other words, he is just now getting the inkling of a hint that he could really cease to exist and the fear that accompanies that feeling is starting to touch him. He still has a lot to learn and the lessons will be difficult, not only for him but for us also for we must now watch as our charge faces trials the outcome of which we cannot predict. To say the least it is a very uncomfortable position for us to be in. There is this consolation you may take with you though; He knows how it will all end” said Ember smiling at his two friends.

“Then I have done wrong in giving the child a healing balm” said Kutya as if ashamed of himself.

“Not so, even that was foreseen. Our task has not changed except that now we must watch as our charge suffers real hurt and real danger that will be inflicted by his own hand, a very difficult thing to standby and observe. We may still aid him in need, but we can in no way interfere with the event taking place. Our main purpose remains the same, to prevent the Enemy and his minions from taking direct action against the child. So, dear Kutya, you, the Recorder and I, shall continue doing what we have been doing for He trusts our judgment and we should always trust His.”

With that said Ember embraced his companions in his radiance and then he was gone. Kutya and the Recorder stood looking out over the world for a few moments longer as they reflected upon Ember’s words and then they also returned to their duties knowing that they must now watch there charge suffer and face dangers as never before.

A Date(Alex//Dylan

2005-04-14T23:36:00.000-04:00

By the month's end, Alex was completely exhausted. She had spent the past eight days along with about five other skilled people, training the shop keepers and residents of the area in different tactics for defending themselves and their belongings. By the time she got home, ate a small meal, and showered it was well into the early morning hours, giving her a few hours of sleep before the laborious task began again. They ran training sessions all day in order to ensure that everybody was given a chance to attend the lessons despite their work schedules. It had been Will’s idea to convert the beach front into the training grounds where everything from sparring to archery was taught. A target range had been set up allowing a variety of fire arms to be shot off. Alex didn’t much care for the semi-automatic and automatic guns that some of the people had chosen to use, but she had to admit that they would certainly take out the intended target. Sam the butcher had made comment that the local gun suppliers were getting a little nervous with so many sales of weapons; seemed they feared that another war might be brewing. One thing was for sure, if there was a war about to happen, her neighborhood would be more than able to defend itself.

The last day of training finally came to an end with the setting of the sun. Alex and the other trainers packed up the supplies but decided to leave the targets in place for practice. Waving a farewell to the stragglers, she walked up the bleached wooden stairs to the street above the beach. To her surprise, Will was leaning against the railing waiting on her.

“You did a really good thing for this community this week. I’ve never seen them ban together like that.” Looking out over the darkening waters he seemed to become nervous and fidgety. “Umm, Alex, you know I had promised to take you to a nice place to eat before the month was over. Well, would you like to have dinner at the Minute Man Hotel Grande tomorrow evening?”

Even in the fading light she could see the blotchy red marks upon his cheeks, something that made him all the more endearing. Too tired to think of an excuse not to go, she agreed, and a time was set for six o’clock the following night. Will walked her back to Nelly’s with a slight spring in his step. Alex didn’t know why, but she was feeling a bit giddy about the upcoming evening as well.

When she entered the bed ‘n’ breakfast, she found the proprietor sitting on the bottom step grinning from ear to ear. “Did ‘e ask you?” Alex wasn’t a bit surprised that Nelly knew about their conversation tonight; the woman seemed to know a little bit about everything that went on in the town. Nodding her head the physically depleted young girl climbed the stairs to her room followed by the nosey older woman as if she were a dog waiting for scraps. Knowing that Nelly wouldn’t have a good sleep until the details of the day were disclosed, Alex proceeded to verbalize the events of the past eighteen hours.

Finally quenching Nelly’s curiosity while cleaning and stowing her weapons, Alex was left alone with the promise of a shopping trip after breakfast. It seems that jeans and boots aren’t appropriate attire for dining at the Hotel Grande. Too worn out to even move, the now sun kissed girl fell asleep on top of the comforter still wearing her clothes and boots.

*********************************************************************************

“Listen up, now that I’ve finally gotten you all together, let’s go over the plan for tomorrow night.” Dylan paced back in forth in front of the two dozen disreputable men gathered in an abandoned building on the outskirts of Red Lantern Alley. “Brake windows, steal, torch the place if you want, but don’t kill anybody.” An audible groan came up from the men. “I mean it, NO killing. Hurt them if it’s in self defense, but no killing. The cops can’t turn a blind eye if upstanding citizens start turning up dead.” Stopping in front of a particularly loathsome character Dylan stared down the group as if daring them to disobey his command. “Do you understand these simple instructions?” Affirmatives were given in various styles but the grizzly leader didn’t believe any of them.

The meeting was short and to the point, leaving the paid imbeciles in little doubt of what there objective was. They would meet at this same spot tomorrow at six to leave for the intended neighborhood. The offensive group dispersed into the muggy night, wagging their tongues about the upcoming conquest. More than one of them was a little leery about the “blind eye” of the law but because the money was good, they put their reservations aside.

Officer Riddles stepped out from behind a door at the back of the room where he was able to observe the meeting undetected. “I don’t know about these guys. Can they be trusted?”

“Of course not, that’s why they’re dispensable.” Dylan gave the officer a wicked smile that caused the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end.

“Just don’t forget about the clean up once all of this is done. Wont do me any good to get my neighborhood back if those fools go tellin’ everybody who they be workin’ for.”

“No need to worry about that. As far as they’re concerned – they’re working for me.”

“All the same, no one is to be left alive.” Peering out the window to make sure the coast was clear Riddles pulled the collar of his jacket up and the brim of his hat down over his face.

“Yea, you look inconspicuous.” Mocked Dylan at the ludicrous sight.

Ignoring his comment, Riddles stepped out into the dimly lit street to make his way back to his comfortable home.

Between a rock and a hard place (Quint)

2005-04-13T20:29:00.000-04:00

I awoke fighting for air and with a stabbing pain in the back of my neck, I moved my head slightly and the neck pain eased immediately for I had been laying on a small sharp edged rock. Though I was certain my eyes were open all I could perceive was inky darkness and a lack of breathable air. My forearms were still bent in a protective manner over my face so I attempted to straighten them out and immediately came in contact with a rough hard surface, there was a rock bridged over me and I had no way of knowing how large it was or if movement on my part would cause it to fall the rest of the way and crush me. The struggle for air left me with little choice, I had to get out or suffocate and time was running out for me fast.

I only exerted a small amount of pressure against the covering rock and I felt it move, a good sign that it was not a huge boulder and that the earth over it was shallow. Pushing now with grater force I soon had a small cascade of dirt and pebbles falling on my face, but more importantly I was breathing fresh air, cool sweet night air. It took a little time but I finally managed to free myself of the temporary grave and gave pause to think of how close it had come to being a permanent grave. The rock that had covered my head was a large flat piece of shell that had bridged over to a large boulder, the object that had brought my body’s motion to a stand still. My legs and torso were covered only by a few inches of the loose shell and dirt.

I was cut and battered, but I had been in worse shape and was lucky to have survived the avalanche at all. Checking my weapons I soon discovered that I had not only lost the 44 revolver, but also both of my custom made 38s. A further inventory revealed that I still had my survival knife, a hunting knife and a couple of throwing knives and tucked inside each boot was a two shot derringer 44. Not the arsenal I was accustomed to, but I felt adequately armed to defend myself and perhaps a bit more if necessary. The thing that surprised me most was that I still had a coat pocket full of gold coins though the coat was now torn and ripped near the point of being useless.

I had heard nothing the whole time I had been free of the earth and my senses told me that I was alone for the moment. Whether the bearded man I had seen survived the rock slide or not wasn’t certain, so it was safer to assume he had survived and that he was still hunting me. Considering the man for a moment I could only find it in me to appreciate his efforts for this was nothing personal, just business, a business I knew well. For now the best thing I could do was check and see if the gelding was still where I had left it and then to find a place to hold up the rest of the night.

I attempted to move as quietly as possible, but the moon wasn’t up yet and I stumbled and slid noisily more then once as I moved northward across the loose shell. The only way I knew that I was back at the pass entrance was that more of the night sky became visible once I had stepped out of the narrow confines of the pass. I knew it wasn’t far to where I had left the horse and soon I could smell and hear the animal nearby. Evidently the dust and dirt had altered my odor for the horse stamped about nervously until I spoke to it softly, then recognizing my voice it settled back down. Taking the extra canteen from the saddle I drank thirstily, the canteen I had taken with me was someplace back there mixed with the shell and with my pistols and my new cowboy hat…damn. Feeling around in the saddlebags I found the little cap I had began this adventure with and t the derringer was still in place that I had secured there along with the extra ammo, things were looking up already. Untying the horse I walked northward in search of a little creek I had passed on my way here, it wasn’t far and I was needing the water. Tomorrow I would have to find a different route to Denver.

The Hunt (Jester)

2005-04-13T19:01:00.000-04:00

“That’s the third shop Lan, I don’t think she’s been here.” Stan stated with frustration in his voice after leaving the shoe store. “I’m telling ya Lan, that blonde in there knew something.”

“Relax Stan. These people are protecting her or themselves. They are a bit on the nervous side, that’s for sure. There’s not a doubt in my mind, that Mr. Trumper fella at the grocery store was hiding something. He nearly dropped that case of eggs when I asked about a new girl in town.”

Landon and Stan continued walking toward the next shop when they noticed Al’s Diner across the street. The place was packed. Parking places were left vacant only briefly, when one car left, another took its place.

“Must be some good food in there.” Landon observed.

“Yeah, I was kinda thinkin’ the same thing. Ya know, we have been walking awhile now; a brief rest and some fresh energy couldn’t hurt. Besides, there are a lot of folks going in and out of there. Maybe we’ll find one that will talk to us.” Stan heard his stomach growl in confirmation that it was time for lunch.

“Ok, ya twisted my arm. Let’s see what’s so great about the place.”

As Landon lead, Stan followed. The two men stepped off the curb just as something odd took place. Right across the path they were taking a large rabbit was chasing after a cat. It was almost as though the cat was taunting the rabbit as they ran by.

“Man this is one weird place ya got here Stan.” Landon remarked, still eyeing the animal chase.

“Tell me about it. Now ya know why I never leave the city. These small towns give me the creeps.”

……………………………………………

Jester was kicking around in the brush were Charlie indicated he had found the saddlebags. The wind had started to pick up and the giant trees began to dance and move as though excited about something. Pulling a thong of leather from his coat, Jester tied his hair back into a tight tail to keep it from whipping his eye out as he searched for any sign of a trail.

“You’re not detecting any traces at all Buddy? Jester asked his long time A.I. companion.

“Chirp” came the usual reply.

“Open all scans. There has to be a gravitron or sparticle around here. If Diapleo popped from this general area, there’s got to be some quirk left behind.”

“Chirp-chirp.”

“Yeah but that’s Silk, she’s never left a trail. She’s the exception to the rule Buddy. Keep looking.” Jester continued to flip over grass and leaves, feeling the ground as though it would speak to him.

Tads stood closer to Charlie and talked in a low cautious tone. “Do you know what they are talking about?”

“Of course I do. I’m fluent in cricket and quantum dialogue along with 20 other bug and theory languages.” Charlie rolled his eyes. “Sheesh.”

“A simple ‘no’ would suffice. Are you always this sarcastic?” Tads asked Charlie.

“If ya mean a wise guy, I haven’t even started. Stick around.” Charlie told him while watching Jester slowly vanish into the forests embrace.

“Charles! Look out!” Came the urgent warning from Mr. Tads.

Charlie turned in the direction that Tads wide-eyes were looking. Barely jumping up in time for a cat to go flying under his feet. As Charlie landed, a rabbit came out of now where in hot pursuit causing Charles to do a panic dance and throw himself to the dirt.

The cat and rabbit stopped dead in their tracks after realizing people were at the forests edge. Gingerly and coolly the cat sat back on its haunches and began cleaning its face as it watched the humans. The rabbit hopped up alongside the cat and stood to sniff the air.
Both animals jumped to alert as Jester came crashing out of the thick limbs in response to Tads warning cry. Sword drawn and glowing Jester scanned the environment with a skilled eye as Buddy scanned with the other. Only thing new was an odd pairing of small animals. Jester lowered his sword and returned it to his coat and gave the two boys a glare of reprimand.

“Why are they staring at us?” Tads asked Charlie.

“Oh they always do that when they spy humans around their home.” Charlie’s sarcasm was not hidden. “How should I know? Why don’t ya go ask ‘em? I’m sure they’ll write you a list of their reasons. Sheesh.”

“You two shut-up and come on. I found a trail.” Jester commanded.

“Chirp!” Buddy corrected.

“Fine, Buddy found a trail.” Jester amended his last remark. “Man I should have stayed in Morgan’s prison.” He mumbled to himself.

As the trio entered into the thick turmoil of swinging trees and turbulent grasses a hush fell over the forest. The winds stopped and silence was loud.
The cat and rabbit stood a moment and gazed, almost in disbelief, at the spot where the humans vanished. The animals exchanged glances and then quickly departed, each running in the opposite direction of the other.

All that remained was a small creature crawling about on the bench near-by. A small six legged animal with enormous eyes that witnessed the arrival and departure of all parties. Slowly it climbed to the top of the bench and then the red-eyed silver praying-mantis spread it’s wings and took flight to its masters hidden location.

I'm a rolling stone (Quint, Calib)

2005-04-13T18:21:00.000-04:00

Calib suddenly tensed, like a mountain lion catching an allusive scent he was alert to any movement or sound and even his nostrils flared testing the invisible air currents. Someone was out there, though he neither heard nor saw anything to prove it Calib was sure of this for he trusted his instincts completely. Taking up the Sharps he lay prone on his hard stomach with the rifle barrel pointed toward the northern pass entrance and with his left hand he eared back the hammer and waited.

The sun was making its slow pass overhead and Calib held his position motionless, ears straining to catch the slightest sound. Some time back he had thought he’d heard something, but it was too faint and distant to be certain of what it was. One thing he was certain of, however, his query, this Quint, was out there and he was doing the hunting now .Calib Black had the patient’s of Job when it came to an ambush and this time was no exception. He watched and waited for he knew none could enter that narrow pass without falling in line with his rifle sight.

A sound, a sort of heavy slow crunching sound that was familiar, yet he couldn’t place what it was right off. It ceased and then he heard it again, and this time he knew exactly what it was. Jumping to his feet Calib turned and moved as quickly as he could from the little cud-d-sac where he had waited and as he ran he twisted his neck to look toward the top of the ridge and what he saw caused him to pump his legs even faster. A large boulder teetered there and then seemed to hang motionless for a second before it tumbled ever so slowly toward the loose shell of the slope. Calib knew that the boulder would soon have the entire slope in motion and that slope held some mighty big rocks.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

I was disappointed for I could see no one where I had expected the ambusher to be, but just because I couldn’t see him didn’t mean he wasn’t there. Looking around I could see that going forward would bring me up against a step cliff that would require climbing equipment to negotiate and moving down the slope would only succeed in causing a rock slide. I couldn’t help but smile as that last thought crossed my mind.
Turning to put my back against the rock that I had been using for cover, I squatted and braced my legs exerting steady pressure on the boulder. At first nothing happened, but as I increased my efforts I was rewarded by a small movement of the stone…then it stopped solid. Repositioning my legs and back for greater leverage I pushed with all my strength and it finally paid off, the large rock broke free and started its fall, unfortunately for me the ridge below my feet also broke loose and I was now a part of the rock slide I had created.

I managed to get turned around so that I could attempt to run with the avalanche and through the dust and falling rock I saw a large bearded man dart from the boulders where I had expected him to be concealed. Grabbing the 44 from its holster as I fought to maintain a semblance of footing I leveled the pistol as best I could, but before I could squeeze off a shot a fist sized rock smashed into my elbow causing my whole arm to go instantly numb and I watched helplessly as my revolver disappeared into the slide. There was no chance to get at another pistol as I flailed my arms and fought desperately to stay afoot, it was a loosing battle.

I felt a large rock strike me solidly between the shoulder blades and I fell forward into the slide and I now attempted to swim with the moving stone. I could feel the sharp edges of flying shell cut my hands and face and several stones struck my head so hard that my senses reeled and my grasp on consciousness became precarious. Suddenly my tumbling and rolling ceased as my back struck hard against some immovable object and then through the cloud of dust and dirt I glimpsed a large stone rolling directly at my head and all I could do was throw up my arm in a feeble attempt to fend it off…darkness engulfed me and I knew no more.

…………………………………………………………………………..

Even as he ran Calib knew he couldn’t escape the rock slide that flowed swiftly toward him and he soon found himself running on a flowing sea of stone. Stealing a quick look up the moving hillside Calib saw a man running down the slope in an attempt to avoid being buried, but Calib Black wanted that man buried under the earth very badly. It would be a tricky thing, but he had done it before, a one handed shot holding the rifle like a pistol. Whether or not the ball would have found its mark Calib never got to learn for a fist sized stone cracked him squarely between the eyes knocking him head-over-heels and the big Sharps 50 flew from his grasp and was quickly swallowed by the avalanche.

Calib’s world was now one of razor edged rocks and swirling, choking dust. He kept his legs pumping even though he was unsure if he was upright or not for he knew he had to keep his legs and arms from being packed tightly in the flowing earth. It seemed as if the slide was in motion for hours, but Calib knew it had been only a matter of minutes and now all motion of the slide had ceased. Coughing and spitting rocks and dirt from his mouth Calib blinked his eyes rapidly in an attempt to clean the grit from them while at the same time digging his blunt fingers in his ears to remove the debris that had accumulated there.

Feeling very vulnerable Calib kept his movements to a minimum till the world came back in focus. The air was still heavy with dustand all sound had ceased. He soon realized he was at the bottom of the pass and on the very edge of the massive rock slid. The landscape was changed radically and the bottom of the pass at the slides center was completely choked off by rock and dirt. Of the man Calib had briefly glimpsed there was no sign at all, but the mountain man would not count his job as completed until he saw the body.

A brief search for his rifle was successful, but the weapon was now useless for the breech was busted and the barrel was bent. Tossing the rifle aside with a curse Calib felt for his pistol, it was gone and he didn’t even bother wasting time searching for it. His tomahawk was also missing and his bow he had left lying in the ambush spot when he made his mad dash to escape the avalanche. All that remained to him was his hunting knife and his skinning knife and in his pocket a small folding knife. How the small sack of coins had remained in the pocket of his ripped and torn coat he didn’t know, but he was pleased it hadn’t been lost. The mountaineer took the keen edged hunting blade in hand and went in search of his prey; there was still 50 in gold to be earned.

Calib searched the area for well over an hour and all that he found was a strange looking pistol that was smashed beyond hope. With darkness not far away Calib gave up the fruitless search and headed south from the pass to a stream that he knew of near by. Tomorrow he would return and resume the search and seek out where the rider had left his horse. Calib limped away a very disgruntled man.

The valley of death (Quint, Calib)

2005-04-13T14:37:00.000-04:00

As Calib made his way south he kept his eyes peeled for a particular type of mossy growth that could be found on rocks beneath pine trees. It didn’t take him long to find what he sought and having done so he quickly made a mushy poultice of the lichen by crushing it with a rock and sprinkling it with water as he worked. The greenish-black goo was soon the proper consistency for use and he slapped a large glob of it to his badly bruised right side. Rubbing the paste in hurt like the devil, but he knew that in a couple of days the bruised ribs would be of no further annoyance. That had been four days ago and the ribs had mended exactly as expected, only discoloration and the memory remained. Calib’s muscular frame was covered with scars, many were the reminders of grievous wounds, but none had inflicted as much discomfort as he had experienced from this seemingly superficial injury.

The big mountain man sat on the loose shell slope, his long legs stretched out and his back resting against a huge boulder that prevented him from being seen from the ridge rim. An ‘L’ shaped boulder hid Calib from below and from the front yet left him a large enough opening to give an unrestricted view of the north end of the pass. Anyone coming through the narrow pass would be in easy target for even an inept marksman; Calib was not an inept marksman.

As he sat there putting the final touches on the new ash handle he had whittled and attached to his hunting knife Calib chewed slowly on a piece of salted meat of which he had a goodly supply. The swayed-back nag had served adequately as a pack animal, but it was a bit stringy and tough to chew. Looking up at the sun the hunter figured that if his man didn’t show in the next couple of hours then it wouldn’t be till tomorrow morning that the job would get done. No matter, Calib had no place to be and no one waiting for him, time was just a meaningless word to the emotionless killer.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

I had been in the saddle about two hours when I topped out on a small rise that provided me with a clear panoramic view of Cheyenne. Even from a distance I could smell the livestock holding pens that dominated the east side of the little town, well, little compared to what I was used to, but no doubt a large bustling community to the local denizens. For some reason I felt reluctant to enter the town if it wasn’t absolutely necessary to do so, listening to my instincts had saved me trouble on more then one occassioso I checked my supplies and considered the trail that lay ahead. Snaring small game and spearing a few fish had supplemented my stock of supplies enough that I felt comfortable with bypassing the rough little western community so I reined my horse to the right off the little knoll and rode west of the township.

As the day progressed the mountains on my left and right seemed to be angling toward each other and I found myself being funneled to a narrow steeped sloped pass. Bringing the gelding to a standstill I sat there looking down that pass and there wasn’t a thing I liked about what I saw. I wasn’t about to ride through there without scouting it out first. I dismounted and tied the horse to a small bushy tree and placed some oats on the ground for the animal in case my little scouting trip became extended for some unforeseen reason. Removing the big 44 revolver from its holster I cautiously entered the shadowed pass using every piece of cover available.

After about forty yards I had a clear view of most of that narrow gauntlet and it looked, and felt, more threatening with each passing second. I saw several spots that were ideal waiting places for a marksman, but my eyes kept returning to a particular pair of boulders on the left slope. If I were doing the ambushing that was the place I would wait and I felt very certain that Mister Calib Black was right there right now.

Studying those rocks it was soon obvious to see there was no way to approach them unseen and the loose shell would make moving silently almost impossible. Only one option lay open, I needed to get on top of the ridge. I went back to the gelding to get a canteen of water and I gave my mount a hat full of the tepid liquid before commencing the climb. I had returned the revolver to its holster and checked that the hammer thong was in place on the pistol to ensure the weapon didn’t fall out during my ascent; I didn’t want to grab for the pistol just to discover it was gone.

The climb proved to be as difficult as I had expected for the footing was mostly loose shell that was over a foot deep and there was little for hands and fingers to cling to. It took nearly an hour to make it to the top and I was dusty and sweaty as I stood back several paces from the rim catching my breath. I took a quick gulp of water and then moved on to continue my scouting staying off the rim line but looking over the edge cautiously from time to time to check what lay below. Up here the ground was firm and I got along quickly now, and quietly, my objective being a rock I had marked in my mind as being almost directly above the suspect ambush sight. Upon reaching the rock I removed my hat and looked down the slope using the boulder as cover, the 44 was in my hand and my every sense screamed of imminent danger.

The Return Of ??? (Phae)

2005-04-13T14:07:00.000-04:00

Stepping out of the car she took a second and made sure she wanted to continue with her current course of action. Closing the door she straightened out the wrinkles in her dress and taking a deep breath strode up to the threshold of the Serendipity. She had been here before for both work and pleasure but could never remember feeling the wave of calm serenity that came over her as she reached for the door. Stepping through the portal she looked around the common room. Spotting the large bar she also saw Phae, the proprietor.

Walking up to him she said ”Hi, can you point me to the owner?”

“That would be me.” Phae said flipping his towel back up over his shoulder.

“I wanted to see what you guys do around here for entertainment.”

“Nothing organized.”

“How about I do it.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a singer.”

“Hmmm…hop over to the piano and see what you can do. I’ll be over in a sec.”

“Fair enough.”

Passing Casey, Michael and Gabriel on her way to the piano the woman slowed as she tried to figure out why Casey felt so familiar. Chalking it up to hormones she hopped up onto the raised platform the piano sat on and gave the instrument the once over.

Sliding onto the bench she cautiously began ‘tickling the ivories’ unsure of when or even if the piano had been tuned. Eventually a tune began to form and the soft calming sounds of a lounge piano being played were heard in the Serendipity for the first time in too long.

“So what do you think?” Phae asked Rus.

“She’s got a gift. She’s able to relay more then just sounds with that piano. She can transmit her emotions with it. If she’s in a good mood she’ll rock, if she’s not you won’t have a customer.”

“Really?”

Walking around the bar Phae approached this woman mixing with the other lost souls but not being lost herself. Passing Casey and her brothers he could tell they were deep into whatever they were discussing. From the look on Casey’s face it didn’t appear to be a favorite topic of hers. Stopping at the foot of the platform Phae closed his eyes and listened to the music being played on that old piano.

“You like it?” she asked smiling.

“Feels nice.”

“Feels?”

“Sounds, I mean it sounds nice.”

“Thank you. So do I have a job?”

“150 a night plus tips sound okay to you?”

“200?”

“If I’m gonna pay you 200 a night I should at least know your name.”

“Sa…Rosey. Folks call me Rosey.”

Okay Rosey, 200 a night plus tips and you can start now. I’ll give ya a meal and drinks on the house too.”

“Set me up with a tall glass of water and I’ll settle in for the night.”

As he set the glass down on the sweet sounding piano he said to Rosey “Your hack’ll be alright in the back if you want to pull it around.”

“Hump…thanks Phae.”

Rebellion (Casey)

2005-04-13T11:35:00.000-04:00

Casually the elder gentleman continued to sip at the date juice ordered from Phaedrus, occasionally casting glances back over his shoulder toward the celestial triumvirate gathered at the far end of the room. Oddly enough he also noticed that damn dwarf hadn’t moved for as long as he could remember.

“So Phae, looks like you recently had a run in with the Prince.” the old man mentioned as he leaned back slightly looking up over his head at the nearly invisible mystic sigil painted in vampyre blood.

“He stopped by for a drink and decided to schedule a business meeting while he was here, after our discussion, however I think he’ll pick a different venue next time.”

“Yeah those damn suck heads can’t be trusted for anything. Cut their heads off and stake ‘em and you still can’t trust ‘em. I’ve run across a few myself and never found one worth his salt. Stakin’ ‘em is about the only thing for ‘em.”

“I guess over the years you’ve seen just about everything there has been to see on this planet haven’t ya Rus.”

“Funny you should mention that I was just talking to a publicist this morning about the possibilities of publishing my memoirs. I guess that’s the kinda shit that happens to ya when you got one foot in the boat and get called back.”

“What if I don’t want to go back?” Casey asked twirling a chair around so that she still faced the table but sat in the chair backwards.

“I’m really not sure?” Michael replied. “We weren’t given any specific instructions beyond seeing what you were up to.”

“I’m content here and I’ve found someone willing to teach me how to be human.” Casey said glancing up at the old man at the bar as she intoned that last part.

“Human, dear sister.” Gabriel spat. “You are one of the chosen, you can never be human.”

“Besides you know I can’t go back.”

“That can be fixed.” Gabriel said looking around Casey’s shoulder at her back.

“Father also wanted us to speak to the ‘time keeper’. Have you seen him?” Michael asked noticing Casey again glancing toward the bar.

“He stopped by a month or so ago, I guess. We don’t really keep track of time in here.” Casey thought back fondly to the way he called her Gaza.

“Did he say where or when he was going to be?”

“Not that I recall. He stops in for a quick drink and then sets on his way.”

“And I’m sure you would tell us if you knew more, correct.”

“O absolutely.” Casey nodded.

“Tell us what happened Casey. Michael and I need to know why you left.” Gabriel asked gather Casey’s two hands gently into his huge mit.

“I was studying at the temple...

“Casey have you heard?” the young ofanim asked interrupting Casey’s study of ‘The Word’.

“No, what is it?”

“The ‘heosphoros’ is gathering together those that want to leave. They are going to petition father to be allowed out of the city.” he replied barely able to breathe.

Dropping her studies Casey ran from the temple toward the citadel. She knew in her heart of hearts how this was going to end and she wanted to be present for it.

Fully a third of all there had gathered in support of Samhazai. Casey was astounded to learn that the numbers dissatisfied were that large. She also recalled what father had said would happen if Samhazai again disobeyed him.

“Azael, you must stop this.” Casey cried grabbing the arm of one of the temple attendants.

“I want to leave young one, why would I then stop him.” Azael replied jerking his arm from the assurance hungry Casey.

Casey then fell to her knees and started mumbling to herself for father to have mercy on those gathered outside the citadel. So intent on her pleading was she that Casey failed to notice the silence that slowly descended and the increasing distance between her person and any other.

“Fear not little one.” Samhazai said reaching down and placing his hand beneath the tear soaked chin of his youngest protégé. “Father will hear our plea and release us.”

“But father said…”

“I recall father’s words, but they were not meant for us he was angry. Come you will see.”

Haughtily Samhazai entered the antechambers within the citadel. Purposefully he strode ever closer to the throne room. Hesitating briefly he grasped the twin doors and thrust them open entering his father’s presence. The entire room shone with a light nearly to bright to be endured. At the head of the room sat the three aspects of the father. To the right sat the human embodiment of father’s love for his children, to the left his wondrous gifts and will and in the center sat the father himself. From the center seat emanated the near blinding light of perfection that was filling the room.

“Father I have come to ask a boon.” Samhazai spoke as he knelt at the feet of the creator and began to bathe his feet with a dish setting a step lower for just such an activity. Tenderly Samhazai finished the task and set about toweling off his father’s feet.

“Samhazai, you have been told before that we are all to remain in the holy city until such time as ‘the word’ has been told to all of mankind.” Jesus spoke.

“Reaching out his hand and grasping Samhazai’s shoulder the Holy Spirit said “Samhazai you have been disobedient in stirring up this rebellion. You must now go quell it.”

The father extended one mighty arm and pointed back the way Samhazai had entered into his presence. Turning he made his way back out to address the throng awaiting word outside the citadel.

“Brothers and sisters.” Samhazai said his body shaping and melting into a form better adapted to get his words out above the general din of the crowd. This being his gift given to him by his creator to further the ‘Praise and Worship’ of the father. Samhazai’s body was a musical instrument…the first ever created and so he was chosen as the father’s second.

“Father does not want us to leave; he says we have to stay here however he preaches free will. Yet when we exercise our free will we are wrong. I say we leave and find our own home where we can worship the father from.” As Samhazai spoke more and more angels loyal to the father were gathering around those that he was speaking to.

“See already they come to enforce the will of the father despite what we want for ourselves. Let us leave. NOW!!!”

Hundreds of thousands of celestial beings pulled divine energy from the father and transformed into their ultimate ‘rage’ form. Instead of the human forms that were there, now visible were creatures ten feet tall or more adorned with crown’s and wings and brandishing weapons of every sort all composed of ‘holy’ flames. None could be felled by their brethren; however the injuries inflicted would momentarily stop them until the body was healed.

The battle was the greatest to ever be observed. Slowly the tide began to turn until suddenly the father appeared on the outside steps of the citadel flanked by the son and Holy Spirit. With a single sweep of his arm those angels siding with Samhazai began to disappear until only Samhazai was left. Trying to hide behind his understudy Casey he now feared what his father would do. As he too was banished from the ‘holy city’ he grabbed Casey by the wings and ripped them from her body in an effort to shield himself with them.

“Casey”, the son spoke. “Our father needs you to stay with Samhazai and the infernal. When your wings return will be the sign of the end times and the banishment of the Satan to hell for all eternity. You must go because you doubted your father. Your aspect will remain that of a celestial and not an infernal but you will not be welcomed back into the ‘holy city’ until then.”

“So you see, I have been left to my own devices and have had to do by myself.” Casey finished looking up again at the old man at the bar as well as another young lady Phae was currently speaking to with a paper in his hand.

Beer for Two(Riddles,Dylan)

2005-04-12T22:16:00.000-04:00

Riddles stepped into the Purple Onion and quickly scanned the room for his appointment. Not spotting him, he took a seat at one of the white tiled tables in the corner, positioning himself so that he could see the door and all who entered. He didn’t have to wait long for a young girl wearing tight jeans and a white button up blouse to come over and take his order. After naming his beverage he proceeded to study the room. It was an older joint but clean, the owner seemed to have a sea fetish as the whole place was covered in nautical paraphernalia. In an adjoining room there was a game of billiards being played accompanied by plenty of laughter and cheering. He couldn’t help but notice a red headed woman dressed in tacky clothing that was too tight for her voluptuous figure standing behind the bar chatting with the patrons. When she smiled he feared that her face might crack from all of the paint she was wearing. Although she was gaudy, she seemed to have a spirited personality that demanded respect.

Straining his ears he attempted to pick up the latest news on the street. There seemed to be a lot of talk about the disappearance of a fellow named Quint who had been having a field day killing some questionable entrepreneurs in the shipping industry. Riddles made a mental note to look up this Quint person if Dylan didn’t pan out.

Engrossed in his thoughts, Riddles was startled by the appearance of the heavily bearded man standing in front of him. “What kind of cop doesn’t even notice his guest’s arrival? I could have shot you and left before you even knew what happened.” Taking a seat across from the flustered man the two remained silent until another beverage was put before them.

“Did you find the help that you were looking for?” Riddles asked eagerly, his eyes darting around the room in search of others from the force.

Dylan finished his frothy beer before answering, seemingly unaware of the officer’s discomfort. “Do you have my money?”

Beads of perspiration began to form on the officer’s brow. He didn’t like dealing with the very scum he wanted to be rid of, but desperate times required desperate measures. With shaking hands he retrieved a brown briefcase that was sitting on the floor by the leg of his chair and passed it along the floor to Dylan. Casually picking it up, the disreputable character excused himself to go to the bathroom where he could count the money in private.

While his companion was gone, Riddles ordered another round of beer in the hopes that the bitter drink would calm his nerves. Before long, Dylan returned to the table, briefcase in hand and a smile on his grizzly face.

“When will you go to work?” The balding cop inquired anxiously while rubbing his sweaty palms on his pant leg.

“When I feel like it!"Barked Dylan slamming his empty mug onto the table top causing heads to turn in their direction. "And if you want the job done, you’ll quit asking questions. You just make sure your friends down at the station don’t start snooping around. If any of my men get caught, your name will be the first word out of their mouth. Understand?”

Riddles nodded his head slowly all the blood draining from his face. Dylan smiled at the effect that his little speech had on the cowardly cop. Feeling content with the business transaction he picked up the battered brown briefcase and left Riddles sitting alone once more.

Gel spell (Quint)

2005-04-12T12:33:00.000-04:00

Stepping over to the bags of oats I took one and dropped thirty cents on one of the remaining sacks and then I walked out of the livery stable without a backwards glance. Cutting a direct course to my horse I tied the oats sack securely behind the saddle and then I reentered the shadowy confines of the trading post once again.

Walking to the customer counter under the unblinking gaze of the store keeper’s bright eyes I saw before him my burlap sack now bulging with supplies.

“Thanks. How much?” I asked in an even tone.

“Comes to seven twenty-five” replied the clerk never taking his unblinking stare off me.

Reaching in my jeans pocket I brought out the exact amount and placed it on the counter and then hefted the sack of goods in my left as I spoke once more to the clerk before departing.

“Fella over at the livery, I killed him. He had it coming. Just don’t want anyone else getting accused for what I’d done.”

The old store keep’s features never wavered and to my surprise his only comment was “Okay”.

There was no need of further discussion so I turned about and departed the trading post feeling the old man’s unblinking stare on my back. Strangely enough I felt those burning eyes on me even after I had closed the door, mounted up and departed through the Rapid City gates.

I had only made about ten miles when the sun started settling on the western horizon in a magnificent display of reds and purples that lit the distant snow capped peaks in a carpet of lavender. A small cold brook flowed noisily from the mountains and near it I found a good camping spot that would provide me with a soft bed of pine needles for a mattress.

Though I had kept the gelding at a slow walk the ride had caused considerable discomfort to my bruised rigs. As I dismounted I gritted my teeth as pain racked my right side. I’d experienced many wounds, more then I could recall, but none had been as painful as what I was now feeling.

I unsaddled the horse and tied it on a peg-line that would allow it enough length to reach the stream, I then dumped it some oats on the ground to supplement the sparse grass that was available for the grazing animal. After taking care of my horse I gathered some dead branches, which were plentiful, and I soon had a small fire blazing. Taking my coffee pot I filled it at the stream and set it on a rock that I had placed near my fire, it would take a while but I would have some hot coffee eventually. Opening the burlap sack of supplies I fished around inside for the coffee and soon found it and a can of beans that would serve as my supper. During my rummaging in the sack I found a curious looking packet wrapped in brown paper, it appeared very similar to the packet the clerk had been working with when I first entered the trading post.

Turning the packet over in my hand I saw some neatly written words on the paper so I took the packet near the light of the fire to see what was there. To my surprise it was a sort of rhyme.

If you have a bruise that’s bad
Then you should use a little dab.

A good knife could save your life
So wrap the handle good and tight.

Somewhat bewildered by the little lyric I unwrapped the small package to reveal the contents. In my hand I now held a small rectangular piece of soft leather, perhaps otter or beaver skin, and a length of soft raw hide string. There was also a small round tin container which I opened, inside was a pleasant smelling orange gel like substance. The meaning of the littlie rhyme seemed obvious, what wasn’t obvious to me was how the old clerk could have known of these things. This was another unanswerable question to be added to a growing list of the unexplained.

Using the index finger of my left hand I scooped out a small glob of the gel, it felt slightly warm and silky to the tough. Unbuttoning my shirt one handed I exposed the flesh of my right side which was now multi-colored in shades of blue, purple, black, and reds; an ugly sight to look upon. I gingerly dapped the orange gel to the center of the affected area and the relief was instantaneous, the pain was gone and I could breath deeply again without discomfort. My multi-hued skin remained, but that I could easily abide. What ever the gel substance was it worked and it was something I would hold on to as long as it lasted for it was the best miracle cure I had ever run across.

I poured some coffee grinds into the pot of now lightly steaming water and then opened the can of beans and set it on the rock by the coffee pot. I situated myself comfortably on the ground and leaned my back against the saddle to await my supper. Pulling the survival knife from its sheath I went about the task of cleaning off the remains of the broken handle and by the time I completed the task my frugal meal was ready and the coffee was done.

It didn’t take long to finish off the can of beans and now with a hot mug of coffee at hand I went about making a new handle for my knife using the simple materials provided by the old clerk. The bow in the steel was going to make the knife an even more natural fit in the palm of my hand and the soft leather would be yielding to the touch and practically slip proof; this was going to be a fine instrument of death, yes it was.

The Brothers Grim (Phae, Casey)

2005-04-11T10:48:00.000-04:00

Things at the Serendipity had been quiet for the last little bit as will happen on occasion. Unfortunately as we are all aware those slow, peaceful times should be cherished as they are all too fleeting and come far too infrequently.

The threshold opened and admitted two men into the haven of ‘lost souls’. Two men that would have passed unnoticed to most individuals, however to those that have means of perception more attuned then those possessed by mortals these two men stood out from the pack due to the intense aura surrounding each. The energy that was held in check by the clothe and flesh they surrounded themselves with, was quite substantial when possessed by a single being and now was staggering in its volume in the presence of two such beings.

The two men quickly scanned the bar in such of the object of their ongoing quest and not immediately seeing her decided to take seats at a table to the left of the door and deeper into the room then the bar extended. The two started the casual conversation of two individuals used to each others company when the larger of the two noticed for the first time that sitting at the table next to then was a smallish man, a dwarf perhaps, dressed in a miner’s garb. He looked almost to be petrified; as if no one had disturbed him nor had had any type of interaction with him for a period of time longer then is easily explained. The table was clean, unadorned by dishes or any other type of accoutrement associated with the consumption of food. The dwarf miner just sat there with the look of one who had maintained a position of observation long enough to have seen all that there was to see

“So what are we gonna do if she doesn’t want to come with us?”

“I don’t know. We’ll just hafta play it by ear I guess. My thoughts were that we were sent down here to see what she has been up to and just talk to her. I didn’t get the impression that we were supposed to bring her back. I thought that father wanted her to come back on her own.”

“Well yes, of course, father wants us to do everything of our own free will. He just seemed to be particularly hurt that she left with the others in the first place.”

“True. Whenever he does speak of her you can often detect a tone that does not fill his voice at any other time. She was, after all, placed by father in ‘his’ camp as the understudy to the Praise and Worship service. He must have seen that she would, by necessity, be spending a great deal of time away from home learning her craft.”

“Oddly enough I don’t see her around yet.” The smaller of the two men stated breaking the conversation and surveying the bar once more in hopes of seeing her. “I thought this was the most recent place she had been seen.”

“Fear not my brother, this realm has dampened your righteousness as happens to us all. I can still feel her, she is close at hand.”

“How about the gentleman behind the bar, what do you make of him?”

“He is Infernal touched, but I don’t believe he will cause us any concern. We were not told by father to expect any interference by Infernals. Father would most definitely have been aware of that possibility. Maybe we will have the opportunity to come back and take his measure when we have completed our current task, if he has been touched there cant be much left to his soul that is of any worth.”

“Ahh… but first things first. Casey has finally arrived.” He finished nodding his head toward the opposite end of the bar. It was there that Casey emerged from the double doors that separated the large common room from the back room that held the stores and a small grill.

The two most recent ‘lost souls’, both casually motioned to Casey to draw her attention.

Casey, for her part, stopped what she had intended to do. Visibly setting herself as one would that had begun to travel a road unintended, she set her jaw and resolved herself to the meeting to come. She easily walked over to the two men and inquired as to what the Serendipity had to offer on such a wonderfully sunny day.

Phae also noticed Casey’s reaction. He had know Casey for long enough to realize that she was not easily put off her game. Phae searched through his mind to list those things that could have the kind of effect on Casey he had just witnessed. Making the short list were beings that Phae had neither the will nor current disposition to meet face to face.

“Hello sister” the two gentlemen intoned simultaneously while nodding their heads at Casey as she stopped in front of their table.

Placing her towel and order pad atop the tray she carried she set the entire ensemble on the table. Looking at one then the other and back to the first she shifted her weight onto her back foot and crossed her arms across her chest. “Gabriel. Michael. What pray tell brings the two of you to my doorstep?” she queried.

The two ‘brothers’ immediately picked up on Casey’s tone. Looking at each other they both turned back toward Casey and raising and eyebrow. “Casey, dear sister, are you not happy to see us? It seems like an eternity since last we supped.”

Looking first at Gabriel then focusing in on Michael she said “Perhaps one of you Michael, dear brother. When you and Gabriel run in packs it can only mean that you are about doing father’s bidding.”

“Casey, that sounds as if you are taking an almost irreverent tone toward our father.” Gabriel replied.

“No Gabriel what you hear is not irreverence. It is rather the tone of one that has been cast out and forced to live on their own without the help of their father. I am doing quite well and have found my way. I do not need your help nor father’s intervention”

“But Casey, father wants you back.” Michael added.

“For more years then a human lifespan I asked, I cried…I did everything I could to let father know that I desperately wanted back into his house and you see where that has gotten me”

With intense interest Phae continued to observe the conversation between Casey and the two newest ‘lost souls’. His attention was drawn, against his will, to an elderly gentleman who entered the bar. The man quickly, despite his age, stepped up to the bar and looking Phaedrus in the eye said “Gimme a mug a date juice.”

Phae smoothly filled the man’s order and slid the mug in front of him.

“That’s the main reason I keep coming back to your place Phae. Well that and the fact that Casey works here.”

“How’s she doing?” Phae asked wiping the bar with his ever present bar towel.

“She learns fast and is not afraid to use her strength. The biggest obstacle is her inability to get angry at most things. Her celestial abilities are best controlled when she is angry. Unlike you she does better when she is angry.”