The darkness of the tunnel seemed to swallow them.  Even the lantern and flashlights that so brightly lit the cavernous room just moments ago seemed dimmer now.  Ediz turned around and looked at his friends.  Aidan seemed relaxed and almost bored, but Johnathan seemed anxious.

“Ediz, did we bring enough supplies,” Johnathan asked.  His voice seemed overly loud in the small passageway.

“I am almost positive we did,” Ediz replied.

“I mean, I don’t even know how long we’ve been in here…”

“Johnathan,” Aidan interrupted.  “You really need to calm down.  We’re perfectly safe.”  His British accent made his words roll off of his tongue and his voice was soothing.

“Yeah.  Sure,” Johnathan replied weakly.

Behind them there was a strange sound that seemed to be coming from the large central room that they had just left a few minutes ago.  The three men looked at each other in silence, none of them moved.  Then in unison, as if a discussion had passed between them, they all set off again and a quicker pace than before.

The moments sped by as they crept through the long hallway as quickly and silently as they could.  Ediz’s lantern was thrust out before him as if it were more than just a light, but also a shield.  Johnathan’s penlight darted around the walls of the tunnel, scanning over the textured surface as if it would show them something the missed with the larger and brighter lantern.  Aidan’s large flashlight slid from behind them, to far ahead of them, looking for dangers approaching from either way.

Johnathan gasped as the penlight went out.  Grumbling, he began to pound it against the heel of his hand, then on his thigh.  With a sigh he held the penlight up and muttered something about ‘not working’ and kept walking.  Then, not twenty paces after the episode with the penlight, Ediz’s lantern blinks out.  The darkness that was once oppressive becomes even more so, and the men move closer together.

“I’ve got some spare batteries,” Ediz says while sliding his wrist through the loop of the handle.  He begins to dig through his bag with the aid of Aidan’s flashlight.  “I can look as we walk, let’s get back moving.”

The men pick their pace up, moving a little slowly, Aidan’s flashlight shining steadily forward now, not ever dancing to light where they had been.  Before Ediz could find the spare batteries, they heard a strange noise echo down the tunnel to their ears and their pace picked up.  Just a few dozen steps later, his light blinked from existence and they were plunged into darkness.  Ediz let out a small grunt as Johnathan walks into him.

“What now,” Ediz asked.  “Should we keep on moving or try and get one of the lights back up and…”

Ediz’s words were ripped from his mouth and whisked away by a loud wind that pushed through the tunnel.  The wind pushed their hair and clothes around and roared in their ears.

“Keep moving,” came Aidan’s voice, barely audible through the wind.  “I think I hear something coming.  I didn’t see any tunnels ahead, so let’s just get moving.”

Ediz took a few steps forward, the wind threatening to throw him off his feet, but then as suddenly as it came, it was gone.  He held the lantern disconsolately in his hand, and trudged forward.  After what seemed like ages trudging through oppressive silence and crushing darkness, the lantern in his left hand flared into light.  Dazzled by the sudden light, Ediz gasped and blinked in surprise.  With a triumphant smile, he turned around to look at his friends to discover that he was alone.  The wide smile melted from his face as he held the lamp as high as he could to illuminate as much of the tunnel as he could, hoping to see some sign of his friends.

“Aidan? Johnathan?  Where are you,” he called quietly down the tunnel.  He opened his mouth to call again when he was interrupted by the same silky voice that spoke to them from the passage that was marked with the number 8.

“Keep moving Ediz,” it purred quietly from up ahead in the tunnel.  “You must keep moving!”

Ediz jumped at the sound of the voice, but he began walking like it told him to.  As he walked his feet began to hurt, but it wasn’t a normal ache.  He tried to keep moving forward but his knees went out, throwing him to the floor.

“Hurry Ediz,” the voice urged him.  “If you don’t believe in the pain it will fade.  You must hurry!”

“How can I NOT believe in this pain,” Ediz spat through clenched teeth.  “It feels as if my feet are going to fall off!”

“It is a trap, something to slow you.  It is just an illusion,” the voice began, but before it could finish the thought there was a small sound.  Like an animal being choked.  A few moments later there was a cough.  Then the voice came back again.  “Ediz, you have to get up.  You have to HURRY!”

Ediz gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself to his feet.  The pain was shocking, so shocking he lost his breath.  ‘I will not let this beat me’, he told himself.  ‘It is not real and I can move past this.  I am stronger than this.’

He took a halting step forward, and with each word, the shooting pain began to retreat.  With a small smile he stepped forward and the pain receded almost completely.  When he was finally feeling victorious he noticed that the sound of the thing perusing him was closer than it had been before.  His triumphant smile melted off his face and he bolted down the tunnel, not daring to look back.

Johnathan heard Aidan urging him on through the roaring of the winds so he began to run, stumbling as the wind seemed to try and knock him off his feet.   He tripped over something, muttered an apology and pulled himself to his feet.  When he was standing the wind stopped roaring in his ears and the tunnel seemed unnaturally still.  It was as if the darkness was muffling the sound as well as removing his sight.  He held his small penlight out in front of him as if it were a small dagger and he trudged forward into the silent darkness.  After a half-dozen steps he called out to Ediz and Aidan but heard no reply.  With a sigh he took one more step but something hit his toe and he tumbled to the floor of the tunnel.  As he hit, his penlight flared to life and he blinked.  He looked around and noticed a gaping pit in the floor not a foot from his hand and he pulled back quickly.

“Aidan?!  Ediz?!  Are either of you there,” he called.  “Oh lord, tell me they didn’t fall down into that pit,” he moaned as he inched closer to the edge.  He heard a strange noise from behind him and he turned, to see the mark of his passage in the dirt, scuff marks and shoeprints obvious with the strange shadows his penlight left.  He turned then and looked at the ground in front of him at the lip of the pit and he saw no footprints or any other signs of passage and he sighed with some relief.

“Guys?  I’m near some strange pit or something, but be careful, there are rocks and ruts in the ground,” he called into the darkness behind him.  “Hurry up and get closer, I have light again.  It’s not much, but better than nothing.”

He stared into the shadows behind him, expecting to see his friends to appear, blinking in the dim light, heading for him.  After a few moments of waiting, he heard a moan from in the pit.  It didn’t sound like Ediz or Aidan, but instead like a woman.  His eyes opened up wide and he moved toward the edge of the pit, using his small light to try and find the source of the moan.  After a few heartbeats the moan echoed out toward him again, but this time it was louder.

“They’re hungry,” she moaned.

“What,” he called into the pit.  “Come into the light, I can’t see you.  I think I might have something to help you out of there.”

“They’re hungry, and you look like a good meal,” she moaned again.  A shape flickered in the shadows as if it was trying to climb the wall of the pit on his side.  Johnathan turned his light to where the shadow moved but there was nothing there but a slight discoloration in the dirt.  He rubbed his eyes and began looking in the pit again.  Behind him there was a snuffling sound, the same sound they heard before the lights went out.

Aidan felt the wind pushing at him and he realized that they had all stopped moving.  He called out for them to keep going and began to jog slowly.  The wind pushed at him and pulled at his clothes.  It felt as if there were hands pawing at his skin and hair but he kept up his slow but steady jog.  After what seemed like an eternity the wind stopped.  He slowed some but kept moving, catching his breath a little.  In the tunnel before him he saw a dim light glowing.  With a grin, he picked his pace back up and moved quickly toward the light.  After a few moments he noticed a curve in the tunnel and it seemed as if the light was just around the curve.  As he rounded the corner, he saw himself with the flashlight on.  The mirror Aidan was peering into the darkness, light beaming deeper into the tunnel, leaning forward as if it would help him see into the darkness better.  Aidan himself leaned forward to see what his double was staring at but he couldn’t see anything.  That’s when he realized that he wasn’t holding his flashlight anymore.  The doppelganger turned around then and smiled at him with a feral smile.  He waved his finger admonishingly before putting it to his lips in a shushing motion, and then it turned back to the darkness ahead.

Aidan moved closer to his double, but less than a pace from the back of his neck there was an invisible wall.  His fingers slid around the almost glass like feeling surface, searching for the way out, or some kind of crack.  As he searched quietly, the other Aidan turned around again, the same unnerving smile spread on his lips and beamed the flashlight’s bright light into his face, blinding him.  Aidan stumbled backward a few steps and covered his eyes, and when the pain from the sudden blinding eased up he reached forward, but met no resistance.  Grunting in surprise he stepped forward and kicked something hard with his toe, as the metal skittered over the slightly uneven ground the light turned on again and illumined a strange set of markings in the mostly blank wall.

Aidan picked up the flashlight and looked back down the tunnel, looking for the curve he noticed before, but there was none, and there was no sign of a barrier, or any other person in the area he was standing in.  For a moment, he was tempted to call out to his friends, but he remembered the warning from the him that wasn’t him and stood silently, looking both ways down the tunnel.

((End of installment 2, more to come.))

It was an odd feeling, the Earth didn’t really shake, but everything seemed to shift. The ancient city called Yanki was up in arms, and the local open air bazaar was buzzing with gossip. There was one small place that seemed immune to the chatter and screams; a small hole in the wall that served tea and snacks was quiet, the patrons chatting away peacefully. A few were quietly speculating as to what they felt, but mostly they were putting things back to rights and moving on from there. The peace and harmony was shattered when a veiled woman burst through the small curtained alcove into the dimly lit room.
“There’s a cave,” she shouted. “Erupted up from nothing, a gaping maw in the city.”
The owner looked up from his game with one of his friends, Johnathan and stared at the woman. The spectator of the game, pulled himself to his feet and walked over to her with an easy smile.
“Pease good woman, come, sit and have some tea and tell us what you saw,” Aidan spoke quietly while guiding the veiled woman to a cushion. When she was settled he brought her a cup and filled it carefully. Ediz, the owner, and Johnathan his absentminded friend moved to sit around the small table with Aidan and the woman.
“The children, my nieces, and I were out hanging the wash on the rooftop. My sister had gone to the south market for some extra spices and to look in one of the new shops,” she rambled, her hands reached out for the cup and they trembled visibly. “Then… Something happened. I didn’t feel a shaking or anything, just like I was on a table that someone lifted up one end on. When I got to my feet, down near the south market was this… I guess you’d have to call it a cave. Like you’d see in a mountain, large open hole surrounded by rock, but there is no mountain here for the cave to come from.”
Aidan rested his hand on hers for a moment then looked at his friends.
“Let’s go check this out,” Ediz said. Johnathan nodded and Aidan broke into a wide grin. “We will find your sister and send her home, and then we will look into this cave.”
Ediz stood and went behind the small counter of his shop, picking up a large satchel and began filling it with items. Johnathan picked up the cups and put them away, and Aidan went to find the person who usually filled in for Ediz when he needed to take a break.
After about fifteen minutes the three of them were ready to go. They waved to their friends in the shop, spoke quiet reassuring words to the frantic woman, and headed out the curtained alcove onto the hot and sunny street. The men moved through the bustle and commotion with ease, and before long they were in the south market. The wayward sister was easily found and she went running off to collect her sister, then to fetch the children from the neighbor. As she disappeared into the crowd, the men looked at the strange and towering stone almost-arch. The tip of it was higher than most of the taller temples on this side of town. The gaping cave mouth stood open to the top, and it looked as if there should have been more stone around it, like somehow the cave was ripped from a mountain side, or even stranger, that the mountain it was from was just invisible behind the large cave. The men approached it with a little caution, and saw that the local police were already taping the place off and setting a guard to keep people out. Ediz walked up to a taller man whose dark beard was peppered with grey. They chatted for a bit and Ediz gestured to his friends who stood back but still apart from the crowd. The man scowled but after a few words from Ediz he was laughing and he waved them through the barricade.
“What did you say to him,” Johnathan asked as they moved past the tape.
“I told him that you were renowned explorers and I was your guide,” Ediz replied with a smirk playing on his lips.
“Oh really, “Aidan replied, almost laughing himself, shifting the bag and pulling a large flashlight out.
“No,” Ediz said simply, but the one word was weighted with much amusement. “He owes me a favor. I reminded him of the time his son ended up in my shop after picking a fight with some of the local thugs. I told him you were coming with me and he was unhappy but he knows he can count on my shop being the quiet place in town, a refuge for those who need it.”
“Makes sense,” Johnathan said while nodding. He looked around the large opening that they were standing in and he pointed. “Is that some kind of marking?”
“Look at him, right to work,” Aidan laughed, smacking Johnathan on the shoulder and heading over to look at what he saw.
The wall was covered in scratched writing, numerous languages, all scrawled over each other. The graffiti was a jumble of phrases and letters, only a few words could be discerned but without context they meant nothing. Aidan turned and looked down into the darker back of the cave, and he pulled his flashlight up. Even though they were still standing in the sun, the back part of the cave was dark and shadowed and the bright beam cut into the dark. Something glittered, but then as if pulled back or running away the glitter disappeared with a quiet clatter. Ediz pulled out his camera and snapped a few pictures of the wall, trying to capture the fact that the words went as high as his eyes could see, and even extended some onto the floor. Once he was pleased with what he got, the three of them moved back farther into the cave.
“Is it just me, or is the sound of the city completely gone,” Aidan asked while turning to face the bustle of people not a hundred feet away. The look on his face was mildly confused.
“You’re right, it’s like I’m watching a silent movie,” Johnathan replied.
Ediz turned around and looked out at the throngs pushing against the police barrier. He cocked his head to the side as he tried to listen for the amplified voice on the bullhorn as the bearded man who let them in spoke to the crowd. He shrugged and looked at his friends. “Maybe it’s just the way the place is acoustically, the sound doesn’t bounce in to us properly or something,” he said, still watching the scene beyond the mouth unfold. “Let’s head deeper in.”
Aidan with his flashlight take the lead, and instead of walking down the center, they stay near the wall of the cave. The ceiling begins to drop lower and lower, and at the same time, the floor begins to slope ever so slightly. They stop for a moment at the spot they think they saw the glittering thing on the floor, but when nothing is there and there are no signs of anything being there, they move on. The tunnel closes around them, leaving them enough room, but compared to the entrance it feels cramped, and after a little over five minutes of walking, the sun and the mouth of the cave are out of sight. Johnathan pulls out some chalk from his pocket and marks the wall as they walk, while Ediz fishes out a large lantern and gets it glowing around them.
The only sound to be heard is their footsteps , echoing off of cold dark stone. Their shoulders hunch and they begin looking around for something other than each other, something to make the place feel less alone. The air is oppressive and after a bit, Johnathan stops walking and looks at Ediz and Aidan.
“Something’s terribly wrong here,” he says while running his fingers over the odd remnants of words etched into the stone. “This strange graffiti is everywhere, even the ceiling, and it feels like we’re being watched, without feeling like someone is here but us.”
Aidan nods, Ediz frowns, and they both look around the small area they’re standing in. After a few dozen heartbeats they hear a sound in the distance, but with the echo it’s hard to tell if it’s behind or in front of them.
“Sounds like some kind of snake,” Ediz states finally.
“No, some pad-footed animal with claws,” Johnathan says. “You can hear the claws tick on the stone.”
“Sounds like shoes to me,” Aidan replies with a shrug. “Let’s keep going.”
The quiet walk keeps on, but soon the rough walls with strange words fades into almost palatial stonework. Sweeping columns hold up a fantastically domed ceiling, and the remnants of intricately carved arches, some leading to niches where statuary stands. Other arches hold what could be new tunnels branching off and away from the central room they found. The stone reflects some of the lantern light, making the whole room dimly lit, just a little darker than what Ediz’s shop is kept normally. The air is cool, and a small breeze, wafts past them. Johnathan quickly moves and marks the door and the floor where they entered to make sure they can see how to get out while Aidan starts inspecting the stonework. Ediz marvels at the ceiling, the design lines that are reminiscent of the work in the larger Temples, Mosques, and Churches in the city. As they’re standing quietly, the strange sound is heard again, this time closer, but when they look, nothing is to be seen. Once again, a short disagreement is had as to the origin of the sound, each man has changed his mind and the location of the sound is more mixed than before. After the argument is finished, they agree to look around in the alcoves and niches to see if there’s anything that might indicate who made the place. Ediz snaps a few pictures of the ceiling and some of the stone work while Johnathan numbers each of the branches that come off the room. Aidan looks at the statues and other objects on pedestals, and half way around the circle, he calls the other two over.
“Look,” he points at a large gem in the hands of what might be a Buddha. “This is the fourth time I’ve seen something holding a gem like this.”
“I’ve seen a gem like that on the ceiling, right there,” Ediz replies, pointing at the center of the ceiling.
“I wonder,” Johnathan says, pulling a small penlight from his pocket and shining it into the gem. The light split out the back a little, but mostly it bounced right back. “Let me borrow that Aidan, and both of you sit on the floor.” Johnathan took the larger flashlight, stood off to the side and shined the light into the stone. The light broke apart, making a few of the other gems light up around the room. Johnathan sighed and shrugged.
After a moment, Aidan took the flashlight and stood below the large gem in the center and shined the light into that gem. Light shattered into rainbows and soon all the gems were shining brightly. Each alcove lit up, showing brilliant images in light around their statues. It was a breathtaking sight and all three men were silent as they admired the sight. Aidan balanced the flashlight on the floor and walked over to look at the first statuette he saw.
“Ediz, come take pictures of this,” Aidan called, waving his hand over. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it, and I’d love to be able to do something with the images after we get out of here.”
Ediz nods to Aidan and steps back, making sure to get the whole alcove in his shot, and he hopes that the small details are visible in the end image. The men chat a bit as the move around, looking at each different statue, getting a good picture of the niches, and finally, they end with a picture of the three of them by the largest of the statues in the room. They were in high spirits and had just sat down to eat when they heard the noise even closer than before, and instead of arguing, they went silent, each looking for where it came from.
“I don’t think I’ve seen this room lit like this for more than a century,” a soft female voice purred from the dark corridor marked with a large chalk 8. “Maybe even a few centuries, time passes differently in here.”
“Come join us and enjoy the room then,” Ediz said while looking toward the archway and squinting into the darkness.
“I need not move into the light to remember the history of this place,” she replied. “Thank you for the offer. However, it is getting time you started moving again. Things are going to catch up with you soon.”
“Oh? What tunnel do you recommend then,” Aidan called out, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Any but the one you came in,” she replied, her voice echoing off the walls as if she was already moving away from the light.
“What do you think she means by that,” Johnathan asked, while picking up the pieces of his meal and repacking the bag he was carrying.
“Dunno,” Aidan said with a shrug, also packing his bag. “You numbered all the doorways, right? How about we just roll a dice to see what number we get and head down that one?”
“Sounds fine to me,” replied Ediz. “I think I have an app for that on my cell phone.” He pulled out his phone and messed around with it for a moment. “Ah, here it is,” the phone made a small noise, then Ediz’s face broke into a large smile. “Twelve, my lucky number, seems like a good sign, come on and let’s go then.”

After everything was gathered and they were moving back off into a hallway, the one labeled with a large chalk 12, they heard a sound behind them. Johnathan looked back into the large room, and he thought he saw a darker shadow coming from the tunnel they came from.

(End of installment 1… More coming later.)

Just a simple normal day, that’s all he ever asked for; one simple, normal, nothing out of the ordinary day. Mind you, he got pieces of it here and there, and to be terribly honest, he had NO IDEA what a normal day was. He read books you see, and in those books, he got this idea. If he could have one normal day then maybe things would get better, and if they got better then there was no stopping him.

His cat wound her way around his ankles. She did this when he started stressing. It really wasn’t his cat, but the ‘library cat’ that lived at the old town library he worked at. She caught the mice, lizards, and bats that got into the ancient building. She also had a way with bugs, and she was cheaper than the local exterminators so they let her stay. She was good with the children, and most of the adults who came in liked her too. She avoided those who were allergic or afraid (so unlike normal cat behavior) so even they couldn’t really complain about her. All she asked for was some fresh water, her litter box to be changed, and one cup of food a day, that and his ankles to wind around when he started getting agitated.
“Cat, things have to change,” he told her one morning. “I’ve not had a normal day yet! Lunch yesterday there was a mugging behind me in the line at the fast food restaurant. You remember the day before, that loon with the screwdriver attacking someone in the stacks.”
The cat looked up at him unimpressed and sat on one of his feet. She stared at him for a moment longer before beginning her morning bath. She seemed nonplussed, and he figured it was because he hadn’t thanked her yet for the bat, two mice, and fifteen cockroaches that were deposited on his desk.
“Thank you for the presents Cat,” he said, reaching down and ruffling the hair behind her ears. She glowered at him, stood up and huffed before hopping up on the edge of his desk and finishing her bath. “Would you be offended if I put them all in my special box? It’s a magic box you know,” he told her, lifting the trash can and moving it to the desk. “You watch me put all your prizes in, but they’re gone by nightfall.” She looked in the empty bin, then watched as he used a piece of cardboard to scrape all the prizes away. She leaned over and looked into the bin and seemed quite pleased with herself. When he put the bin back where it sat, she resumed cleaning.
“I got a new tattoo last night Cat,” he said. She looked at him for a moment, then began washing her whiskers. He unbuttoned his shirt a little and showed the cat his new tattoo on his chest. She sniffed at it and leaned in as if she was going to try and take care of his wound but he leaned back. “No, no licking it yet. It still hurts. Give it a week, and I’ll show you again.”
He stood up as he buttoned his shirt back closed and shook his head. He could hear the ladies at the checkout desk laughing.
“Ediz, you are so cute with that cat,” one of the ladies exclaimed. Ediz smiled and gathered the books that they finished checking in to re-shelve them. He listened to them chattering on as he moved back into the stacks, and he heard one of them just before she was out of earshot. “I’ve been working here for 30 years now, and I never remember seeing that cat until he was hired. But at the same time, I remember it always being here. Strange, isn’t it Ella?”
Ediz remembered the cat from when he was a kid. She was only a kitten then, but she lived here and she made the library one of his favorite places to be. When he turned fifteen and could get his first part time job, he started working at the library. After school, he’d come in, do his work and then work on shelving, cleaning, weeding old books out, repairing damaged books, and every other odd job that needed to be done. She watched him, followed him, and tried to trip him when it would be most comedic in her little cat brain.
“You know Cat,” he said from the quiet stacks. “Tomorrow I turn 21! We should go out for my birthday. I could order Chinese, you could have the night off… then back to work like normal Joes tomorrow, what do you say?”
The cat wound her way out of the stacks and looked up at him, her large eyes glowing slightly in the strange gloom of the place.
“Sounds wonderful Ediz,” he heard a quiet voice say, but when he looked around there was no one.
“It’s a date then,” he said, but with less exuberance than before. As he pushed the last book home, he headed back into the light of the library’s atrium, leaving the cat sitting in the stocks. If only he would have turned around to look at her.

When work was over, Ediz was excited. Today had been almost perfectly normal, all except for the answer in the stacks first thing in the morning. He took out the vermin filled bag and came back in to find the cat sitting on his jacket and shoulder bag. He smiled at the cat and shooed her away. She looked injured by the gesture, but didn’t budge.
“Come on now Cat, closing time.”
She stared at him mournfully.
“Oh, yeah… I said you could come home with me tonight, right? Can I change it for tomorrow? I might have a date tonight. Someone I’ve been watching actually asked me if I could help her with her English paper,” Ediz smiled, but the Cat didn’t budge. “Why am I asking you,” he said suddenly sharply. “You’re a cat and you don’t even understand English!” With that, Ediz grabbed the jacket and pushed the cat to the floor. When his bag was on his shoulder he stormed out the back door, locking it behind him. For the second time in that one day, he should have turned around to look back at the cat.

The next day when Ediz came in, there were no gifts on his desk. She didn’t come greet him, and as he looked around, he couldn’t find her at all. He was a little worried, but he figured she’d be back around lunch time, or when he put out her bowl of food. He was still excited from his study date the night before. The girl who asked for help was someone Ediz was crushing on since middle school. It was a dream come true for him to finally get to spend time with her, and when he mentioned that it was his birthday, she offered to take him out for drinks tonight as a thanks for helping on her paper. Today couldn’t go fast enough for Ediz, and when the Cat didn’t show up for her lunch, he never noticed.
When closing time came around, Ediz stuffed his jacket in his bag and dashed toward the door, but as he was getting there, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. In one of the little used back rooms, cat was laying, half pinned under some books. He dropped his bag and ran to her. He carefully lifted the books from her small frame and touched her face. Her eyes opened and looked at him.
“Oh! Cat, you’re ok,” he said. “No more playing around now. I have to go.”
The cat’s eye rolled back in her head and the lid closed slowly. Her breathing was fast, but labored and he realized then she wasn’t ok. He looked outside to where the girl of his dreams had pulled up in her car to get him and back at the cat. He sighed and began to stroke the cat gently, trying to see if he could feel any damage. When he stopped on her ribcage to feel her heart, he could hear that soft voice from the morning before. “I’m dying Ediz. You broke my heart.”
He looked around, but no one was near him but the cat. He looked down at her and saw her vibrant eyes watching him. He stroked her face and smiled at her.
“You can’t be dying, and I can’t hear you, and this is all crazy,” Ediz said quietly, then his face darkened and he shouted. “Why am I talking to a stupid cat anyway?!”
The cat flinched, and its expression became even sadder. As he watched, the small form on the floor twisted and changed into a young woman. Her hair was the same mottled color of the cats. Streaks of color here and there in it, her eyes were the same bright hue and shape that the cat’s eyes were. He stared down at the woman, his mouth open.
“I love you Ediz,” she mumbled between labored breaths. “I’ve been watching you all your life.”
“This is crazy,” Ediz stammered, backing away from the once cat, now girl. “This isn’t real. You’re just some cat, you’re not a person.”
“Please,” she whimpered, weakly extending her hand. “I love you, don’t leave me to die alone.”
Ediz stood, shaking his head. He backed away from her prone body on the floor. His back hit the wall and he jumped.
“Ediz, I thought you loved me. You always spoke kindly to me, took care of me. Always. Until yesterday. You asked me to come over, and then you abandoned me,” she looked at him, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Why did you abandon me,” she cried.
“This is all some kind of dream, maybe I’m having a mental breakdown, this isn’t real, I’m hallucinating,” he began to babble to himself. Outside, he could hear a horn honking impatiently. He turned and looked out the doorway, to the glass beside the exit, and could see the girl of his dreams pounding on her horn, looking angry. “You’re just a cat, just some old stray cat that the library keeps to help keep pests down.”
“I love you Ediz. I’ve been watching over you for your whole life. Why do you think your parents knew where to find you when you fell out of the tree? Why do you think an ambulance got to the accident site when the drunk man hit the car you were driving home in? Why do you think that in each situation you should have died or gotten really hurt, you could walk away,” her voice was trembling. The horn seemed louder, as if the car was pressed against the back door. “I used up each of my own lives to save yours. You don’t have to lose your life to save mine Ediz.”
Ediz stared at the once-cat-now-woman in disbelief. The horns loud and insistent honking was making it hard to think. He turned to look out at the car, but instead he saw the girl standing at the door, while the horn was still honking. She was peering inside, her face was pressed against the glass. She wasn’t pretty now, but frightening. The urge to go to her was still there, but something in him thought better of it.
“How do I save your life,” Ediz asked, unable to look away from the face at the door.
“Accept me, lift me up, love me,” Cat said quietly. “Kiss me.”
“Kiss you, but you’re a cat! I mean, but… You see,” Ediz stammered. He looked back at Cat and when his eyes met hers he understood. He pushed away from the wall, but the sound of the horn brought him to his knees. He reached out and his hand grasped hers. She shuddered and he could feel her growing stronger. The horn sound faded but it was still there. Ediz could hear the girl who he was supposed to go out with that night screaming at the back door. She sounded scared, but when he tried to move, he saw Cat struggling to her knees and he struggled to help her up. When they were both sitting, he stood and helped her to standing. There was sobbing at the back door, and he turned away, but his face was turned back by Cat’s soft hand.
“One last thing Ediz,” she said quietly and simply.
Ediz looked at her and froze up. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her in toward him. At the back door, the pitiful sobbing turned back into screams. Screams that made nightmares seem tame and happy. He could feel his hands trembling as he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers.
Her lips were soft, and when his lips met hers the world went quiet. He could feel her life pouring back into her, the weakness when he found her, the weakness when he helped her to her feet; it was all gone and now she stood strong. When he pulled back from the kiss, he looked into her eyes.
“And now, I protect you again,” Cat whispered, a smile on her face.

“Are you doing it again,” he asked scowling at me. “Honestly Jesse, you’re pathetic.”
“Shut up, it’s not like I’m asking you to do anything. If you hate it so much, why’re you even here,” I asked him.
“Moral support.”
“Criticizing me isn’t moral support Aaron,” I quipped as I pulled on my wig.
“Whatever,” he said while shrugging at me while flopping down on my bed.

It was two days to the con and I was anxious, I had worked on the costume all summer. Aaron was my constant reminder of how un-cool it was to actually do this kind of thing. Between my summer job of being a lifeguard and working on this costume I think he started to feel really neglected. I offered to make him a costume, but he scoffed at me and told me I was ‘a freaky, lame-o, loser’ and he had no intention of becoming one too.
I made him one anyway.
My parents were out of town for the week, and I was left home house sitting. Aaron was considering spending the night so he could go with me to the con the day after next. We lay on my bed watching the sunset and Aaron looked at me with a strange expression on his face.
“Something feels funny,” he said frowning, still looking out the window. “Sky doesn’t look right or something.”
“Sure,” I said, pulling myself off the bed and walking to the closet. “I have a surprise for you Aaron.”
“Jesse, I swear to GOD it better not be a costume,” he said scowling at me. He looked good laying there with his hands tucked behind his head, it made his arm muscles stand out.
“Aaron, it is a costume, and I know you’ll like it,” I told him as I reached into the closet again. I pulled it out and hung it beside mine. “Come look?”
He sat up and walked over behind me. His hand reached out and grabbed the dark clothing bag it was tucked into.
“What, now it’s some sort of big surprise,” he reached out and started pulling down the zipper.
“Wait, I need to finish some of the sizing, it might not fit you perfectly in places,” I told him, putting my hand over his and unzipping the garment bag the rest of the way. When it was unzipped I pushed it open and showed him.
“You’re kidding me. You’ve gotta be shitting me,” he said, his mouth open. “How on earth did you do this?”
“You thought I was just working on mine, honestly I thought you had it figured out a while ago.”
He grabbed the costume out and held it up.
“Darc! You even have the horns, hand, and ears!”
“Yep, and dad’s friend is letting me borrow his airbrush to do your body paint,” I told him while pointing at a large compressor in the corner of the room.
“Ok, so maybe this isn’t COMPLETELY lame,” Aaron said looking at the costume. He lifted the sword that was in the garment bag and swung it around a bit before taking the bag to the bed and looking at all the pieces.

It took us a little while to make sure everything fit. I had to leave the room three separate times so he could take things off and put things on and he got mad when I explained that I would indeed need to see him in his boxers to do the scales. When I told him I considered making him a Delma he stared at me for a long time, but when I explained that Delma was for me to wear he nodded and maybe even blushed a little. By the time we were done getting the last measurements I collapsed into my bed and told him that I wasn’t going to watch him change, that I was too tired for that kind of thing after everything else we had done that evening. He grunted and turned around to unbuckle some things and when he pulled off his clothes and put on his pj pants he lay beside me again. I jumped when my bed shook and looked over at him.
“The sky still looks wrong,” he said.
“I’m too tired for this conversation Aaron,” I told him pulling a pillow over my head.
“Seriously Jesse, something doesn’t look right.”
“Ok, I promise to listen to whatever you have to say about the sky tomorrow, please let me sleep. It’s going to be a long day.”
“Ok Jess,” I heard him say quietly, patted my stomach a few times and then he went to the guest room. I pulled the pillow off my head and stared at the sky before passing out.

Morning came too early, but Aaron was awake and told me that he was going to treat me to breakfast at my favorite restaurant before chores and last minute con preparation. Breakfast was good, and the day was promising to be hot, so we wolfed down the food and got back. He told me that if I mowed the lawn, he’d play pool boy for the rest of the day. There was no way I was turning down him cleaning the pool and bringing me fruity drinks and sandwiches so I told him it was a deal. He changed into his shorts and started making us sandwiches in the air conditioned house. After I was half way through the yard, I almost thought he got the better part of the deal, but I remembered how much my back hurt after scrubbing the pool walls and decided to let him enjoy the ac now, because soon he was going to be my personal slave. That thought alone got me through the rest of the mowing job, and when I put the mower back in the shed he was waiting next to the pool with two tall glasses of something icy.
“I’ve skimmed the pool, just need to scrub some spots then we can get in and enjoy the water,” he told me while grinning.
I grunted at him with my mouth around the straw of the frozen and fruity drink. My hands felt fuzzy from the mower, and a few seconds later I almost dropped the glass because I got a wicked case of brainfreeze.
“Stupid,” he muttered as he grabbed the cup and sat it down. “Go lie down and relax while I finish this.” He walked to the poolside, picked up the brush, and began scrubbing.

I must have fallen asleep on my towel because the next thing I know there are wet icy cold fingers playing on my lower back. When it occurs to me what I’m feeling I almost jump out of my skin. Aaron is sitting beside me holding his drink glass and occasionally rubbing me with his icy hand.
“Been done with the pool for almost half an hour lazy,” he tells me, his eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter. “We gonna eat now, or after a swim?”
“Swim first, I need to wake up,” I grunt as I slid toward the pool and into the cool water.
As my body got wet, I wake up, and by the time it reached my neck I was wide awake again. The water feels good and soothing so I was only a little annoyed when Aaron cannonballed into the water beside me. We spend a while splashing one another and making a mess and by the time we dragged ourselves out of the pool, we were tired and giggling. He toweled off a bit and went to get the sandwiches and I headed into the shade with our glasses of melted frozen juices.

We ate our sandwiches and drank the juice and he begins telling me all about this new game he wants. I noticed that it’s getting hotter and hotter and that we’re both sweating.
“We should head in. You need a shower so I can get the base for tomorrow’s paint down,” I tell Aaron when he takes a breath. “Then we can watch a movie or play something, then early to bed so we can be up in time to finish the costume.”
“You think I’m going to shower all naked in your house,” he says heading in the door, and the second his words end he wiggles his butt at me. “You’re likely to spy on me or something.”
“Doofus! Your shorts near came off when we were swimming in the pool, if I wanted to see something, I’d have taken my chance then.”
“Scandalous,” he mutters while slapping his butt as he heads up the stairs to the bathroom.
Shaking my head I wander into the basement where the other shower is. When we meet in the living room almost thirty minutes later he’s smiling like the proverbial cat that ate the proverbial canary.
“What’d you do,” I asked wearily. That kind of smile on that face made me more than nervous.
“Nothing,” he said while laughing. “Honest!”
When I stared at him he shrugged and lifted his shirt.
“I put the base lotion stuff on that you showed me last night and prepped the machine,” he smiled. “And I put a few trash bags on the bed so I could lay down for you to work.”
I followed him upstairs and he had gotten everything laid out and he stripped down to his shorts and sat on the bed. I finished the prep and got to work laying down the base of his makeup and scales. When the work was done a few hours later I looked out the bedroom window. The sun was still out and it should have gone down a while ago.
“Aaron, what do you think is going on,” I asked while cleaning everything up. I handed him the powder that is for setting the makeup and making it tolerable for extended wear. As he put the powder on I stood staring at the large ball of light that now seemed to just be starting to set.
“Don’t know, but we have an early day tomorrow Jesse.”
“You wanted to tell me something last night,” I said, looking back at him as I shoved the machine back into its corner.
“It’s just,” he started, and then he looked at me. The sunlight was red and shining through the window making it seem as if the windows were covered in blood. “The daylight feels strange, looks strange too. It’s too hot, like something is trying to bake us. Something is wrong Jesse.”
“Yeah, I see that now. What do you expect me to do about it,” I say while looking at him.
“I don’t know,” he shrugs and pulls the shirt back over his head. “You’re just the smarter of us, I figured you might be able to…”
“Yeah, I’ll think on it. Let me check something online,” I say, patting his shoulder and sitting at the desk. “Just… Go brush your teeth or something, set the alarm for tomorrow.”
The internet said something about sun flares and the solar winds pushing the atmosphere strangely. I didn’t quite understand everything, but it said that things would even out before long. When Aaron came back into the room, holding his toothbrush out and looking pitiful, I couldn’t help but smile.
“How am I supposed to brush without messing my face up,” Aaron asked.
“Doofus, you can’t brush your teeth without brushing your face? As for the sun, it says it’s supposed to go away soon. Come here if you actually need me to brush your teeth.”
He stepped forward and held his brush up and I couldn’t help but laugh as I carefully brushed his teeth.
“You SO owe me,” I said as I handed him his tooth brush and ushered him out the door so I could change.

The next day, the sun woke us up again. I rolled over to see the sun bathing my room in a bizarre orange-red light and Aaron was staring at me. My breath caught in my throat, from the makeup and the light he looked a little creepy.
“Sun is still wonky,” he told me quietly.
“I noticed.”
“When is it going back to normal,” he asked urgently.
“Soon,” I said while sitting up. “Put those pieces on and well get the rest on at the con. I’ll adjust a few things and you can ride in the car in your horns. Now get out of my room so I can change.”
He smiled at me and walked out of the room with his bag. I pulled my costume on and put my makeup on when I saw him behind me in the mirror. He held up his horns and looked pitifully at me. I got out the glue and put them on. Then we headed out the door.

Parking at the Con was a pain, the last pieces of his costume and mine were easily put on in the parking garage. He shouldered his sword and we headed out. It was crowded inside, but the feeling of everyone wasn’t excited, but scared. There was chattering everywhere about what was happening. We posed for pictures while the photographers and other Con-goers were babbling about the sun. It was actually a little annoying.
“Awesome costume,” someone said in passing as Aaron walked by.
“Yeah, thanks,” Aaron replied as we found a quiet spot near a wall.
“Something wrong Aaron,” I asked as I turned my head to follow his gaze.
“The sky,” he said. “I want to go outside.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, following him as he walked through the crowd.
When we made it outside, he moved so we were out in the open, not under the covered walkway. He looked up into the sky and I followed his gaze. The sun seemed darker than normal. It flickered then, like a light bulb going out. I looked at Aaron and he took off his glove and held my hand. We stood there staring at the sky as the sun went out.

The night sky was brighter than the sun.  Light blossomed so bright that he closed his eyes and covered them with his hand.  He could still see red light through everything, despite his attempts to block it out.  And then a thunderous sound that made his ears ring washed over him a scant few seconds before a wave of air knocked him off his feet and sent him crashing into the brick wall over 20 feet behind him.  At the point of impact, Josh jerked himself awake and sat up sweating and shivering.  That fateful night was already two years in the past, but it woke Josh and the other few survivors who slinked around the ruins of London more often than they would like to think about.  Josh threw his feet over the edge of his cot and looked around the small and crowded room and sighed.  He stretched his back and his neck popped as he did.  Then, after pulling on his worn down trainers he walked out into the dark hallway in search of whoever was on guard duty during that shift.  It took them, the survivors, months to find each other after the blast, and even longer to get themselves settled in a building they could secure and fill with supplies and stores.  They almost had it done in time too, but just a week before things were completely stocked and secure two horrible things happened.  The first was the attack of the animals that had escaped from the London Zoo.  The second was a raiding party that came from somewhere in Kent.

Some of the animals had escaped after the bomb hit and had been roaming the city, taking down those who couldn’t defend themselves.  They first picked off some of the other animals at the zoo, then found stray animals roaming the streets and took them down, finally ending with hunting humans.  There had been stories from some of the people who were filtering in; they heard strange noises, wild noises, things stalking them in the streets.  One even told a story about a lioness grabbing and dragging off a woman he had found and was helping.  A day after that story was told by the shivering survivor, they were hit by the wild hunting party.  Josh was assigned to watch on the third floor balcony, and he saw a pair of people dragging back some large items.  It looked like a good haul.  He called down to some of the people waiting to help, and just as they were heading out he saw the shadows.  Within almost an arms distance behind the chattering pair was another pair, a pair of large lionesses.  Josh called out to them, waving his arms frantically, but they just waved back, beaming and carrying their loads.  He then called down to the people heading in their direction to help, but they had started arguing, and Josh was stuck on the third floor, watching as the lionesses swatted the feet out from under the unaware.  It was quick, and very little blood was spilled.  The people were knocked to the ground, one hit their head so hard on the pavement, Josh could swear that he heard the THUNK where he was.  The man didn’t move, and the lioness grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him away.  The other was a bit more of a challenge, but still not much of one.  She landed on her hip, and began kicking at the lioness, but with a few well placed blows the woman’s face was destroyed, and her ribcage had been crushed under the heavy paw of the lion.  Then she grabbed her prey and pulled it away from the scene like her hunting partner.  By the time the others got out there, the stores were scattered in the road, and the only thing to mark the passage were long bloody marks leading away.  They were extra careful after that, only a few more were picked off, mostly those blowhards who said they could take the animals down.  The threat lasted for a few months and most of the people were too afraid to go out and scavenge.
Josh had figured how to move between some of the buildings in higher levels, and he had set about roaming parts of the city where it was less likely he’d be found by the animals.  So, when he stumbled upon their hidden cache of bodies and where they were sleeping, he saw something that made his heart clench.  Most of the escapee predators had decided to live near one another as they had been doing at the zoo.  Quite a few of them had discovered the bounty of flesh in the city, and had taken to eating what they could without hunting.  The animals were unaccustomed to actually hunting for food, so the action of the lionesses seemed strange now with the scene before him.  Many of the animals were sick, the lions included.  A few of them were lying far separate from the others.  The meat that they had been scavenging themselves was old and tainted from the bomb, but they didn’t know that.  They had been starving, and since hunting was mostly a mystery to them, they just scrounged around and got ill.  Josh’s heart twisted in his chest as he looked at some of the animals, laying in their sick-up, panting or wheezing, and he decided to go back to tell the others what he had seen.
When Josh had gotten back to the base, he found a group of men gathered and talking outside it.
“It’s time we just go hunt that lot down,” someone said.
“I’m sick of living in fear,” another chimed in.
“I know where we can find some decent weapons, but listen, I don’t know how many of you can actually hunt,” a tall man said.  He towered over some of the men, but stood a little bit shorter than Josh.  He was thicker too, he lost a good bit of weight, but he still had a belly.  He spoke with an accent that usually only the more affluent of the city dwellers used.  “If we can make it back to my home, I can give out some weapons.  Who here has used a bow and arrow before?”  A few hands went up into the air and others murmured quietly.  “That’ll have to do.  Let’s head off now before anyone else tries to join us.”
“Wait,” Josh called after them.
“Like that,” muttered the large man.
“You don’t understand.  The animals aren’t a threat anymore.”
“Yeah, what makes you so sure of that,” one of the voices in the small crowd called out.
“I’ve seen them, they’re dying from eating tainted meat.”
“You’re lying,” spat the large man.  “No one even knows where they are, let alone how many.”
“About two km as the crow flies,” Josh pointed.  “Some are doing better than others, but they’re all sick, including the lionesses.  As for how many, it’s very few.  Only about three animals are able to move around well, another three or four are rickety and lying down, and the last few are unable to move at all.”
“And how does a scrawny little punk like you know this,” snarled the large man, shoving Josh while baring his teeth menacingly.
“Because I’m intelligent, and take the time to look at things before rushing off to my death,” replied Josh, shrugging.  “Well, not just death, but the waste of potentially good weapons to defend ourselves.”
“That, BOY, is what we’re about to do.  We’re going to take down the animal threat to.  Defend.  Ourselves,” the large man said, while jabbing a finger into Josh’s chest to punctuate his words.  “And even your little punk self,” he said while shoving again.  “But I don’t know why we should even bother with you, you’re worthless.”
“You don’t need to take my word for it, but you’re causing more damage to all of us by behaving like this and not listening,”  Josh shrugged one more time and turned to walk away.  Apparently the man was still mad, because a large piece of rubble slammed into his back throwing him forward, and behind him the large man began laughing with only a few in his crew joining in half-heartedly.  Josh pulled himself to his feet and walked away grinding his teeth at the pain in his back, and the jeering from the group behind him.
When Josh made it inside, he found someone who wasn’t too busy and had them check his back, there was a large scrape and bruise where the rubble had hit, but it was quickly cleaned up, and carefully bandaged.  Josh then wandered until he found the defacto leader of the group, Deidre.  She was working on making something for them all to eat for lunch.  The smells out of the kitchen were both tasty and sickening.  Some of the food had gone bad, and they were trying to look through all their stores to find out what had been making the kitchen smell so horrible.  The wood smoke lingered in the air, leaving the spiced stew’s pungent aroma almost completely covered.  When Josh stepped in the door, she looked up and smiled.
“You look unhappy,” Deidre said, beckoning him over and then pushing a lock of her hair out of her face with her wrist.
“Yeah, well,” Josh began, looking around the room at the few children that had survived.  “That big guy, the one who acts all posh?  He’s going to get some weapons and hunt the zoo animals down.  Plus, he chucked a huge rock at me.”
Her face darkened, while she continued to work on the bread, then she sighed and walked away from it and called for her husband.  “Don’t worry Josh,” she said, smiling reassuringly.  “He’ll take care of our big bad hunter friend.  Now, let me see where the rock hit.”
“I said chucked, not hit,” Josh said defensively while holding his hands up to ward her off.  “I’m good.”
She nodded, and smiled again and when her husband, Marcus, walked in she walked to him and spoke quietly to him.  They conferred for a moment, and he walked out like a thundercloud.   Josh watched her for a moment.  She moved around the kitchen, talked to the children, hugged them all and asked them to start fetching water.  When they ran out she went back to the bread dough and looked up.
“Anything else then,” she asked while her hands kneaded the dough.
“Uh,” Josh began.  “Well, yeah.  How many have asked to be leader?”
“Maybe three now,” she said, looking skyward, thinking.  Her wrist came up again and she pushed her glasses up and brushed the hair from her face again.  “Yeah, it’s been three, four if you count the kid who lasted just a few hours before getting told off by everyone.”
“How come you’re the one everyone goes to then?”
“Because they lack experience leading.  I’ve been in charge of groups of people before, and I’ve managed a family,” she replied, smiling as one of her children came in, carrying water.  “And because they get tired of all the others here complaining about things to them.”
“Is it really that bad?”
She shrugged.  “Not really, what you’d expect from children, but I’ve learned that most adults are just large children.”
Josh laughed, then looking back out the door as a few other children came in with the water, he looked back to her.
“What’s Marcus going to do?”
“Follow them, talk to them, observe things, and handle it.”
“How does he expect to do that?  He’s small!”
She laughed then, and the children began giggling in the corner where they filled up the makeshift well.  “Well, first, he’s a lot tougher than he looks.  Second,” she said leaning over and planting a kiss on a child’s head.  “Second, he’s got a good head on his shoulders.  And last but not least, he likes animals a lot more than he likes people.  He’s not going to let them hurt animals unless they’re really a threat, or they need to be put out of their misery.”
“Oh,” was all Josh could think of to say.
“If you’re staying in here, I’m going to put you to work,” Deidre smiled.
Josh smiled back at her and bolted out the door.  When he got through the next few rooms, he saw one of the other teens named Ben pacing back and forth.
“What’s going on,” Josh asked, watching the erratic pacing.
“Found something,” Ben said.  “Something big, but don’t know what to do about it.”
“Why don’t you sit and talk to me about it then,” Josh said while sitting down on one of the small pallets they used for sleeping.
Ben sat quickly and leaned over and began whispering in Josh’s ear.  “Found something in the underground.  A few of the machines survived, and we can get two stops up and one back on it.  Problem is, two stops up is where the animals are.  One back has a store in it, but I don’t want to scavenge alone.”
“Comon then,” Josh said, pulling his lanky frame back upright.  “Don’t worry about the animals, but let’s get a few of those bags and head to the store.  There might be something useful.”
The run to the store was only a little fruitful, but what they did get helped a good bit.  At dinner that night, Josh noticed quite a few of those who had gone after the animals weren’t back at the table, but a few of them were.  He opened his mouth to question what had happened when Marcus came and sat beside him.
“Leave it,” he murmured.
“Leave what,” Josh asked.
“Leave the subject of the animals alone.  They don’t know you’re the one who ‘sent’ me, and right now that’s better for you.”
“What happened,” Josh asked his face ashen.
“I found them pretty easily, because the windbag was so loud,” Marcus scowled at the memory.  “Anyway, I asked them what they were doing, and after I was told I said I’d tag along.  We got the weapons from this ratty and torn up apartment, and headed toward where the windbag said the animals were.  When we got there, the scene was pretty bad.  I could smell them from a way off, but apparently none of the others could.  We approached and one of the lionesses came up, sniffing at us and the morons shot at her.  Not a single one hit, but she recognized the gesture for what it was worth and attacked.  I moved out of the way, not everyone was lucky enough to get away.  Once those who had fled were gone, I watched the animals.  They’ll enjoy this supply of fresh meat for another few weeks, but the sick will die, and they’ll move on.  The healthier ones seem ready to move on now, but they’re waiting.  A few of them have already started leaving.  I think the whole lot should either be cleared out or dead by month end or mid next month at the longest.”
“But where are all the hunters?”
“See those three,” Marcus pointed to one sitting and eating on his pallet, and two others lying down.
“Yeah,” Josh replied, his voice lilting up as if asking a question.
“That’s all that made it out of there after the windbag started shooting.”
Josh turned to look at the three in their little corner, and when he turned back, he saw Marcus sitting beside Deidre and picking up his bowl.  For a while, Josh couldn’t bring himself to eat, so he just sat, motionless, thinking about what Marcus had told him.

Things had been quiet for a while, the animals had died or moved on, and the last of the cities refugees had found their little colony.  We had even started seeds in hope of growing more for us to eat.  But the relative peace amidst the struggles was quickly over when one of the scavenging parties ran across a well armed and mounted party from Kent.  They were brought back to our growing little group, and Deidre had to scrounge up more supplies to feed them.  The leader of the group was a weasely looking old man with watery eyes.  His greasy hair was combed back and the way he looked around, it seemed like he was sizing it up to either raid it or to take it over.  Deidre came out and had the children set up extra pallets for the group, and then to drag the tables together so they could eat a large meal.  When she saw the man appraising the community, she smiled and walked up to him.
“Welcome!  It’s mighty nice to know that others survived,” she said, extending a hand to him.
“Yes, well,” he said looking at her extended hand scornfully.  “Why don’t you run along now and get me the leader of your little group?”
“Ahh…  Well then, “ Deidre said, her smile becoming wooden.  “That would be me.”
The man grunted and waved his hand and literally pushed Deidre aside.  Marcus was beside her in a moment, and the man didn’t seem to notice that she was holding him back.  The rest of the colony had gathered around as well.
“Who here is the real leader of your motley little group,” the man said, his watery eyes raking over all of the assembled faces.  His eyes landed on the grim face of Marcus, and he nodded.  “Very wise, sending a woman out to do your job.”
Marcus said nothing, but stared at the man.  Deidre’s hand clamped tightly over Marcus’ wrist.
“Either way, the rest of you can go to seeing to my companions and the horses, I need to speak with this chap,” he made a shooing motion as he stepped toward the pair.  The crowd dispersed some muttering, others moving to where they could watch the interaction, and others going to check on the newcomers and their horses.
“I’m the Honorable Judge George Wentworth, Mayor of the newly reformed township of Bromley, and you are,” he asked, extending his hand to Marcus.
“Name’s Marcus, and I carry the post of ‘Scourge’ here in our little motley group.  If you need to talk about anything, Deidre here is your man, or should I say woman,” Marcus said coldly while pointedly not taking George’s hand.
“Scourge,” George scoffed.  “No man should have to serve a woman.  Aside from that, where did you come across such antiquated language as that?  Does anyone here even know what a ‘Scourge’ is?”
“They only need to know when I need to do my job,” Marcus shrugged.  “But, a good bit of them know, yes.  I have my own little peace keeping team, and we’ve been training.”
“Well, I could use a man like you.  Our current Constable is old,” George exclaimed while patting Marcus on the shoulder.  “We have a nice building put aside for the headquarters, and we’re working on a few other things to help with that.  Tell me what it would take to sweeten the deal for you to come back with me?”
Marcus looked at the man, then turned and walked away.  Deidre’s eyes followed him as far as she could before he was out of sight.
“So,” Deidre said, looking at George.  “Why have you come and what do you need?”
“I thought I made it clear to you that I’m not dealing with a pathetic woman,” George said again, shoving her aside and almost knocking her to the floor.
“Josh,” Deidre called.
Josh was standing with some of the other half-curious, mostly angry onlookers and when he heard his name he strode forth.  When he reached Deidre, he helped her to her feet and she tugged him down to whisper to him.
“Josh, listen to what this man from Kent has to say.  He might be offering something worthwhile.  When he’s done yammering, tell him you’ll hold a council meeting and come tell me what he said, we’ll decide what to do then.  Okay?”
Josh nodded to Deidre and looked back at George.  “This way Sir, we can talk at the table that the children have finished setting up.  Let me just go grab a notebook.”
“Good, I’ll be waiting for you, we have lots to discuss and negotiate,” he said to Josh’s retreating back.  “You,” he snapped, pointing at one of the children.  “Bring me a cup of something to drink, my throat is dry.”
The child jumped and ran into the kitchens.  When Josh returned, the child was carrying two cups.  He placed one cup before George and the other by Josh.
“Thanks Michael,” Josh smiled at the boy.  “Deidre has said if your duties are done and the tables are properly set, you can have the rest of the afternoon off.  She also said ‘enjoy the outside, weather’s been turning, run along,’ and it’s best to listen.  She’s in one of THOSE moods.”
Michael nodded, ran to the children and the motley company tromped and giggled its way noisily out the door.  Josh smiled after them and clicked his pen open and flipped to an empty page in the notebook.  “So, what do you need me to bring up at our council meeting,” Josh asked, looking up from the blank paper before him.
“First off, you need to get a proper leader here, not some pathetic, worthless, foolish woman.”
“Deidre has been elected by the Council,” Josh said flatly.  “And no one wants the job, or can actually keep the job anyway,” he thought to himself.
George sniffed with disgust and turned his head.  “Well, it matters not.  None of my demands are to be brought before her.  Just go straight to the council and let them take care of it.  We’re going to need our water filled and some food.  We’ve found little canned food here in the city, and I suspect that it’s because you’ve already taken it.  Also, since our township is larger, you’ll be come a satellite of New Bromley now.  We will be sending people to collect a portion of what you find every few weeks.  We want precious things, not just food.  Any finished and in decent shape jewelry pieces or working electronics.  Also petrol and generators are useful, we’ll take one for every two you find.”
Josh kept his eyes down and wrote, but he knew the demands were higher than even the most foolish here would agree to.  When George would pause, Josh would nod when he had finished writing things down and was ready for more.
“Plus,” George smacked his lips after taking a long drink.  “We want some of your women.  We only have a few.  We need more to keep the place running.  We could take a few of the female children that are a little older to train them better than they’ll be trained here.  Letting them off to play,” George scoffed again and shook his head.
“If there’s nothing else,” Josh said, looking George in the eyes.  “I have a personal question for you.  Do you know where the previous Mayor of Bromley is?”
“He decided to leave,” George said sharply.  “He took a few horses and people and said he was going to ‘look for his family’ or some nonsense.  He’s been gone for over two months now and they elected me.  I’ve implemented many changes, and our little town seems to be working much better than it was when he was running things.”
“I see,” said Josh, standing to his full height.  “Well, I’ll leave you to relax in here.  I’ll call the council to meeting.”
“I’d like to be at the meeting,” George said, leaning forward in his chair.  “Bring them back to me.”
“We’ll see, it’s up to them if they let you sit in,” Josh smiled and turned.  He took a deep breath and headed out a door opposite of where Deidre headed.  When he made it out of sight from the room, he turned and walked down to where he suspected Deidre and Marcus would be.  When he walked into the training room, Marcus was trying something new and Deidre was helping him perfect it.  They both smiled tersely as he entered the room.
“Hey now,” Josh said, holding his hands up and then waving the notebook.  “Let me just say this ‘don’t shoot the messenger.”
“That bad,” Deidre asked, walking over and holding her hand out for the notebook.  After it was placed in her hands, her eyes scanned the lines and she sighed.  “Yeah, it’s that bad.”
“What are we going to do with him,” Josh asked.  “He’s taken over Bromley after my grandfather apparently left looking for his family.”
Deidre looked at Josh for a long time, then hugged him lightly.  Stepping back she looked up at him again.  “Run and find as many of the council members you can find and send them here.  Get Ben and the others and find our peacekeepers and let them know to be on high alert.  Get the mid-teens to find and watch the children in our safe bunker, and send the older folks there too.  Then do me the best favour in the world and go back and watch that slimy bastard.”
“Will do,” Josh said, running out the door.
“Ben,” Josh called.  Ben looked up from his book and placed it open on his lap.  “Ben, put that up for now and help me.”
“Yeah,” Ben asked, standing.  He put his book down and then jogged over to where Josh was standing.  “What’s wrong?  What’cha need?”
“Lots of things to do, need you to start,” Josh panted.  “Grab the council and send them to the training room, but keep it secret.  Also grab the older people and some of the women and send them to the safe bunker, tell them to be sneaky about it.”
“Shite Josh, what’s goin’ on,” Ben asked, his eyes wide.  “Shite… Shite!”
“Ben, comon now,” Josh sighed.  “Just do it quick and quiet, I’ll be doing it too.  Avoid the main hall though, I’ll cover that. Okay?”
“Yeah Yeah, “ Ben said, trotting out of the room.

When Josh entered the main hall, he saw more of the mounted party sitting at tables, and one of the mid-teen girls serving the men drinks.  A few of the council members were playing cards at a far table, and some of the other mid-teens were bustling about their chores.  He ran up to the table of those who came with George and smiled.
“Gentlemen, the council is being gathered as we speak, but I need to borrow the nice girl who has been attending to you, apparently she left something undone.  Excuse us,” Josh grabbed her by her arm, put the chipped pitcher on the table and pulled her roughly away from the table.  When he was sure they were out of earshot, he leaned over, still holding her arm he began to talk to her while wagging his finger admonishingly.  “Gemma, get the other mid-teens and find the children.  Once you have them get to the safe bunker, but do it in secret.  Don’t let them see you go there.  When you leave me run out crying.  When the others follow you out, pass on my message but be as secretive as possible about it.”
Gemma nodded and began to cry.  Josh half pushed her away and as she ran, he shouted after her, “Get to it!”  The other youth looked up to see Gemma running away from Josh crying and quickly followed after her to see what happened.  Josh suppressed a smile and walked to the card playing council members.
“Hey,” he said as he approached the table.  “You’re needed in the training room.”
“Why,” grunted one of the men.
“Urgent meeting,” Josh mumbled.  “Make sure you’re not followed.  Trouble might be brewing.”
One of the men looked up and into Josh’s eyes.  He grunted again and put his cards down.  “Get up, we need to go,” he grunted at his partner.
The other man looked up at Josh and put his cards down.  After a moment, the cards were cleaned up, tucked safely away in pockets and the men were sauntering out the door that the kids ran out.
Josh looked around the room one more time, and when he saw that everyone who needed to leave had left, he walked back to the table.  He smiled one more time, his stomach jolting uncomfortably as he looked at all the faces staring back at him.
“Can I get you gentlemen anything before I finish my duties around here,” Josh asked, doing his best to look calm.
“We’re fine,” George said reassuringly.  “We have things to entertain and occupy ourselves.  Good handling of that girl by the way.  You seem like you would fit well in our little town.  You could come back with us, or if we don’t find someone else more qualified, you could run this little… mess.”
“Sounds tempting,” Josh nodded.  “I’ll be back shortly to check up on you, some other kids need handling.  Like that one right there.”  Josh nodded toward a younger teen boy and then walked in his direction.  He forced his walk to be menacing and he stalked to where a few of the mid-teen boys were standing and talking.  “Guys, find the rest of you, the children, and then head to safe bunker.  Be sneaky about it though, and watch to make sure you’re not followed.” Josh stood up straight as the kids left the room quickly and sighed ‘Lousy punks’ loudly before walking out himself.
In one of the side corridors he found a few of the peacekeepers chatting.  Josh walked up and waited until they looked his way.  The oldest one was in his mid-40’s but he didn’t look it.  He was a tall man with long blonde hair.  He was almost as tall as Josh himself with a lean build.  He smiled at Josh and beckoned him closer.
“Hey, Deidre and Marcus ask that you watch the newcomers.  Be sneaky about it though, we don’t want them to know we’re on alert.  I suspect Marcus will fill you all in later.  We’re sending the youngest and frail to the safe bunker.”
“They expect that much trouble,” the blonde said while raising his eyebrow.
“Yeah, it doesn’t look good.”
“Okay then,” the blonde nodded.  “You two, get everyone else, post them, tell them it’s a ‘relaxed high alert’ and let them know the newcomers are the reason.  Mum’s the word, off you go.”
As the other two ran off, the blonde strode down the hall and into the main hall.  Josh watched them, then ran back to the training room, half looking for Ben.  Just around the corner from the training room, Josh saw Ben, cornered by one of the strangers.  Ben looked terrified.  He was huddled against the wall leaning away from the stranger who was waving a knife in his face.  Josh walked up and stood behind the thuggish man, and his presence gave Ben a bit of courage.
“Can I help you,” Josh asked, masking his terror behind a gruff voice and scowl.  He hoped that the other man wouldn’t see through it.
“I was askin’ dis guy where da loo was,” the thug drawled.
“Back the way you came, second turn on your left.  Better get on your way before I call a peacekeeper to take that toothpick.”
The man grunted and stalked down the hallway.  He looked back a few times before turning, and once Josh was sure he was gone, he turned to Ben who looked completely rattled.
“I’m going to tell Deidre and Marcus about this, you find a peacekeeper and let them know some of them are wandering around where they shouldn’t be, then come back into the training room.”
Ben nodded and ran off while Josh turned the corner and walked the short way before turning into the training room.  It was packed, and none of the faces looked happy about what they were hearing.  A few who had greeted the strangers were now scowling deeper than ever, and more than a few of the women looked like they could rip some heads off.  The council talked long, hard, and loud about what should be done, but in the end, they decided that it would be better if they played along and sent a few people with them to gather some intelligence.  The decision of who would go then became hotly contested.  Josh told them about what George said about him staying and taking charge and they agreed it would be best to play along for now.  Deidre offered herself to go, but that was shot down instantly, and before she could say anything, one of the women from the kitchen ran in.
“Deidre, we need you in the kitchen,” she panted.  Her face was pale and she looked as if she was about to sickup.
“What’s wrong,” Deidre asked as she walked across the room.
“A few of the men came in and knocked the peacekeeper out.  Then they started going through our cans.  One even drug Martha into the back room.  That’s when I ran.”
“I think any chance we had of being able to deal with these monsters is now over,” Deidre stated.  “Time to kick ass, take names and send those jerks back to where they came from… On foot.”
The other members of the council nodded in agreement, and Marcus dashed out the room to gather the fighters.  Josh looked around and noticed that Ben hadn’t come back, so as the others went to spread the news, Josh began his search for his best friend.

The small compound was on a strange almost lockdown, and there was a large fight in the dining and sleeping quarters.  Josh walked around, looking in every room, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ben’s stained red jacket and torn up boots.  The longer he searched the more nervous he got so he began to run from room to room, careful to be quiet as he did so.  In one room Josh saw the sleeve of a red jacket with a hand sticking out of it and he rushed to check, but it was one of the younger teens.  Her head was bloody and she wasn’t moving or responding.  He leaned in closer, and saw her take a shaky deep breath and then her breathing evened out.  After making sure to cover her up with and hide her body from a quick check, he put a mark on the door so he’d remember where she was so he could send someone to check on her when this was done.
He left the room, trembling slightly and realized that he wasn’t looking for the red jacket anymore, because Ben gave it to the girl.  Josh stood in the hallway, wondering if he should go back and recheck the previous rooms when he heard a loud crash from that direction, and the sound of a gun.  After he found his wits, he took off in the opposite direction of the sound, glancing in the rooms, trying to see if anyone was Ben-shaped.  As Josh neared the kitchen he saw Marcus walking to the doorway.  He was smiling a grim smile, his usually nice ponytail was disheveled, a few tears in his shirt, and a red splotch on his cheek that seemed to be quickly turning black and blue.  Marcus looked at Josh and shook his head no just before stepping in the doorway.  That’s when Josh noticed the sounds coming from the room.  One of the kitchen girls was crying and another was mumbling quietly with a panicked edge to her voice.  Josh walked toward the door to peek in, but after a loud crash and a louder wet crunch he decided better and turned so he could reach the other side of the compound.
The stairs were rickety, but there were only a few more places he could look before he’d have to get everyone to search for Ben, leaving no stone unturned.  As he was pushing open the door he heard an odd bubbling or gurgling noise.  Josh shifted and pushed the door a little bit, peeking in, then pushing it a little farther and looking in.  On one of the chairs was Ben.  One of his legs was twisted oddly and his head was lying back on the back of the chair.  Josh rushed forward to look at his friend when a dazzling white light blinded him.  Just before he slipped into unconsciousness, he saw a pair of feet move between him and Ben, and he heard a gravelly laugh.
Josh woke to find one of the people from Kent standing over him.  The man leaned down and his rancid breath washed over Josh’s face, making him gag.  The man laughed in his face and grabbed his jaw so that Josh couldn’t move his head.
“I gots you,” he said shaking Josh’s head for emphasis.  “I gots you and I’m gonna keep you unless they stop fightin’ us.  Yous is stupid for listenin’ to a girl, our man George’ll set yous to rights.”
“Listen,” Josh mumbled, the way his jaw was held made it hard to speak.  “Marcus isn’t going to stop because you have me.  Besides that how does anyone know you have hostages up here?”
The man stared at him for a moment, then walked to a window and looked out of it toward the street.   He stared at them for a long moment before trying to open the window.  After what seemed like an age he used what looked like a blackjack to smash a hole in the window.  Then, leaning his head out the he began to shout.
“You lot tell your people to stop fightin’ us… or I’ll,” he paused, looking in at Josh and Ben.  “I’ll hurt… I gots hostages!”  Then the man walked back to where Josh and Ben sat, smiling smugly.  “See! Now they know.”
Josh lifted his hand to his face, covering it and shaking his head.  That’s when he realized he wasn’t tied to the chair.  He wiped his face and looked at the would-be hostage taker and shook his head again while staring at the man.
“You’re forgetting something,” Josh said.
“Yeh? Wazzat?”
“You didn’t tie me down,” Josh said, standing.
The man stared at Josh with wide eyes and ran back to the window and stuck his head out again.
“Hurry up, I’s startin’ to hurt ‘em,” he shouted again, placing his hand on the glass to support himself.  He began to pull himself back into the window when his hand pushed too hard, and the glass made a crunching sound, then a strange grating sound and a pane of it fell from the above the hole.  The large pane sliced into the back of his neck, knocking him down to the other jagged edge below, effectively beheading himself.  Josh stared at the man in shock, and then emptied his stomach on the spot.
At the sound of Josh throwing up, Ben began to stir and he lifted his head to look at Josh, then he looked around the room and saw the bloody smear on the wall and glass and began screaming for help between throwing up as well.  After a few moments a few people came up and helped Josh and Ben out of the room and back down to the pallets.
Josh lay on his small bed curled up and Ben was stretched out on his when Deidre and Marcus came up.
“You boys did well,” Deidre murmured, brushing some hair from Josh’s face and sitting on the pallet beside him.  “You were brave and followed instructions well, and I am so sorry for what you had to go through.  We’re taking care of Ben’s leg, the doctor doesn’t think it’s a bad break, but they’re going back to the hospital to find the stuff for making casts.  I can’t do anything for you, but to tell you I’ll listen if you need to talk, and Marcus will too if you’re more comfortable with that.”
Josh shrugged and Deidre nodded her head and stood back up, making her way to the others who had been injured, speaking to every one of them, her face streaked with tears.  Marcus followed her, his face an emotionless mask.

It was a few weeks before people stopped jumping at the sounds in the night and longer still before they stopped jumping at shadows on the walls.  But Deidre didn’t let this slow down the group of us too much.  Depending on injury, jobs were assigned, and people were there to help.  Ben was healing and moving around on crutches.  Josh had to admit that things were going better than he expected them to be.  That didn’t stop the nightmares, nor did it stop the worry, but they were making it.
As Josh walked up behind one of his friends who was on night guard duty, he saw the man staring at the horizon.
“What do you see,” Josh asked, looking at the man’s face.
“The future,” the man replied, looking at Josh.

“What do I have to do to get his attention,” Anne shouted while stomping in the large but warm front room.
“You have mine,” a voice answered from a few rooms away.
“Lovely,” she said icily. “Sam, you are a dear, but back to my question. Why does Mike ignore me?”
“Because,” Sam said, his voice just a little closer than last time. “You’re noisy. He likes peace in his kitchen. You’ve been learning to cook with him for a few months now, ever since he won the contest and was named ‘Best in the City.’ He huddles himself away in his kitchen and cooks.” Sam’s voice was closer now, but when Anne looked around, she still couldn’t see him. “You storm in, shouting. He closes off even tighter.” Sam said, appearing behind her. His clothing was covered in metal shavings and grease, but like always he was wearing a big smile. “Me on the other hand,” he held up a strange looking tool. “I like it when you come over, it breaks the silence that Mike slips into. Plus,” he added a twinkle in his eye. “It…”
A large crash from the kitchen cut Sam off. His big grin disappeared just before he did, and Anne was left standing alone again in the front room. She waited for a moment longer before stalking back to the kitchen area. As she navigated through the maze like rooms and halls she wondered what today was going to bring, but she kept on walking. When she stepped through the doorway Mike was standing before her his arms crossed and his face dark with anger.
“Last time you were in here, did you perhaps cast a spell on the meringue so it would set faster,” Mike asked, biting each word off.
Anne stood, mouth open and stared at him for a moment. “Well,” she began. “You see, I…”
“ENOUGH,” Mike roared. “You come to me to learn to cook, but each time you cast a spell in this kitchen you break something. I’m tired of making Sam stop whatever it is he’s working on for the University to fix something that didn’t need fixing before you mucked about. You want to learn to cook, there are no shortcuts. You either cook, or you go cast magic and teach the oafish brutes from the watch.”
“Wait,” Anne stammered, her hand reached out for Mike as he walked away from her. She took a few more steps into the room and saw Sam leaning over one of Mike’s tools, carefully removing a few gears. “I’m sorry Mike,” she mumbled, averting her eyes and staring at the complex pattern on the floor.
“Sorry doesn’t cut it anymore,” Mike said while fishing in a drawer. “This is your last chance Anne. I’m not messing around anymore. I have three separate families asking me to mentor their children for large sums of money,” Mike turned to look at Anne, then lifted a small cloth bag from the drawer and handed it to Sam. “You not only pay me nothing for my time, patience, or even a pittance for the ingredients, but you break the things I’ve spent my own money and time on designing and Sam has spent building.”
“Mike,” Anne whispered as she looked up, but when she looked around he was already gone. Anne slumped to the floor and covered her face with her hands. She tried to stop crying, but she couldn’t, and she knew that Sam was still in the kitchen with her.
“Anne,” Sam said quietly. “Anne, are you okay?” Sam was kneeling beside her, a towel was in his hands and he scrubbed hard at them so he wouldn’t get grease on her dress.
“Yes,” she mumbled pulling her hands away from her face. “Get back to work Sam, you don’t need Mike fussing at you too.”
“He won’t,” Sam said, smiling and standing. He held his hand out to her to help her off the floor but she knocked it away and stood by herself. She then proceeded to brush down her skirts and rearrange her hair. Sam stood by watching her with bemusement.
“I’ll show him,” Anne said once she was adjusted and ready. She stomped over to the sink and turned the tap on.

Mike stood in his study, looking out the large window into the back garden. The vines of tomatoes were ripening well, and the other vegetables and fruits were growing strongly. The greenhouse glass was fogged up, and he was pretty sure that the few olive trees and other exotic plants he had growing in the large glass building were doing well. The door to the greenhouse opened and the gardener stepped out, wiping sweat from his brow. His hands and face were dirty, but he seemed so happy to be outside working with his hands and making things grow. Mike watched as he walked around inspecting the plants. After a moment, he walked to the back fence and grabbed a basket and picked the things that were ripe, and pulled up a few onions, carrots, and potatoes. Mike could hear the man whistling while he worked and the sound brought a smile to his face. After a moment longer in the weak sunlight, Mike turned around to leave his study when he heard a small knock on the door. He crossed the room and took a deep breath, then exhaled and smiled when he saw Sam leaning against the wall outside his door.
“Come in Sam,” Mike said, stepping back into the room and holding the door open. “I expect you’re here to tell me what transpired after I left.”
“She cried,” Sam said simply. “Not hard mind you, but she did cry, and then she stood up and went to the sink. She said ‘I’ll show him,’ and I left when she began washing her hands. I figured you needed to know.”
“Thank you for telling me Sam. I’ll handle things. I know you’re busy, so go ahead and get back to work on whatever it is you’re doing.”
Sam shrugged. “My heart isn’t really in it. I have come to enjoy the work you give me to do around here. Elle asked me to make her a few things, and I’ve considered it, but I wanted to talk to you about it first.”
“Elle,” Mike asked, tipping his head back, looking up, and tapping his chin.
“Elle,” Sam sighed. “The girl who cleans and helps out in the kitchen next door. Mrs. Fenderson’s maid. Mrs. Fenderson is thinking of letting her chef retire and having Elle do the work. Elle said she’d be happy to but she’d feel better with a little assistance.”
Mike stared at his friend for a moment. “When on earth do you have time to talk to them,” he asked, incredulously.
“When I go and work on Mrs. Fenderson’s new locking system, and when I take Elle to dinner.”
“When do you take Elle to dinner,” Mike asked, shock on his face. “Even more important, why don’t you bring her here for dinner?”
“Mike,” Sam started. “I don’t bring Elle here for dinner because by that time you’re plotting to get drunk, or you and Anne are fighting.”
“We don’t fight that much,” Mike mumbled.
“You drink so much you don’t remember it,” Sam accused. “You fight with her and then drink after you kick her out of the house. You don’t remember much. If I’m here I drag you to bed, and when I’m not, that task awaits me when I get home. Now that I have your attention, can you tell me what’s going on so we can fix it?”
Mike opened his mouth and closed it a few times, then turned around and stalked to the window again. He stood there for a long moment before turning back around to see Sam still standing where he was when Mike walked away. The expression on Sam’s face was hard to look at and Mike dropped his gaze quickly.
“I think I’m in love, Sam.”

Anne jumped when the Gardener opened the door. She could smell the rich earth on him and his quiet whistling made her smile. She turned her head to see him standing just inside the door.
“Got some veg for ya Ma’am,” he said, holding up a basket.
“Thank you Mr. Tate,” Anne said, smiling and taking the loaded basket from him. The smell of earth was almost heady and the smile on Mr. Tate’s face made Anne’s cheeks flush. She turned quickly and walked back to the sink. She carefully removed all the vegetables from the basket and then took the basket back to the gardener and handed it to him.
“Thank ye Ma’am,” the gardener said taking the basket, dipping his head and heading back out into the back garden.
Anne closed the door and walked back to the sink and began washing everything. She caught herself humming and smiling while she worked, and that realization made her pause for a moment. She looked around the kitchen and sighed. “What do I think I’m doing,” she said and her own voice in the quiet room startled her. From the direction of Mike’s study, she heard Sam talking in a loud and not too happy voice. Her eyes lingered on the doorway that lead to Mike’s study and she sighed. “What am I doing,” she asked herself again, turning back to the sink and vegetables. After a moment of washing and sorting she sighed to herself and headed toward Mike’s office. As she walked she took deep steadying breaths and planned out what she would say when she got to the door. She made it to the door and took yet another deep breath and raised her hand to knock when she heard Mike faintly confess.

Anne found herself in the kitchen, holding one of her larger knives and cutting up some of the fresh vegetables that the gardener brought in. She looked beside her and saw one of the largest pots on the stove full bubbling away. Taking the spoon setting beside it she stirred to see what was in the pot and noticed it contained large browned beef bones and vegetables boiling away. She looked at what she was cutting and saw onions and carrots, the potatoes were piled neatly. She went back to her work, and let herself ponder what she overheard. Mike was touchy and cranky because he was falling in love with someone. The woman in question probably didn’t even know how special she was, and that thought made Anne angry. She threw a handful of peppercorns into the boiling water and sighed. Now she would never have a chance to win him over, to tell him how she felt. Anne looked at the pile of carrots and sighed. She didn’t want to step on any toes, and why would a talented man like him want a pathetic elf girl like herself. She had nothing but her magic, and her heart wasn’t really in it. Yeah, it made her money, she didn’t have a big place like Mike, but she had all the clothes she wanted and she always had a good meal. She wasn’t starving like she was when her and her sister were learning what to do with the spark that their parents found.
“Anne,” Mike’s voice came from behind her, making her jump.
“Yes,” Anne said quietly, turning to face him and wiping her hands on a small towel. “Do you need me to go?”
“No, no, it’s fine,” he said, clearing his throat and walking toward her. He looked into the pot and stirred it. “Making a stock I see, looks and smells good. Did you brown the bones?”
“Oh, uhm,” Anne thought, recalling her past moments. “Yes, with some onion and carrot for about 30 minutes. The beef drippings are in that jar over there.”
Mike looked to where she was pointing and ran a hand through his hair. “Ah, great. I’m going to go out for a minute, Sam is here if you need anything. I’ll check the stock when I get back.”
Anne nodded and turned away from Mike as he walked from the room. She carefully lifted the piles of vegetables and put them in the large pot. A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away with her wrist. She carried the bowls and cutting board over to the sink and began washing everything off. When that was done, she stirred the stock more and leaned on the counter, looking out at the empty kitchen.
“How could I have been such a fool,” Anne asked herself.
“Need something,” Sam asked peeking into the room from one of the many doors that lead to the kitchen.
“No, it’s fine, thanks Sam.”
“I see, well I’m trying to finish this… Uh.. if you need me, just call, Okay?”
Anne nodded mutely and turned away, stirring the pot again. Anne stared into the pot and sighed. She placed a heavy lid on the pot and walked to the chalkboard she took out her watch and wrote the time the stock would be finished by and put the chalk down. She looked at her chalk covered fingertips and sighed. She opened her hand wide and let electricity play over her fingers and sighed again. She walked out of the kitchen and moved toward the foyer. “I’m out Sam,” she called. “The time the stock will be done is written on the board.” She walked out the door and pulled it closed behind her. She heard Sam shouting from in the house, but she walked briskly away, and when she reached the front door of the next house, she was running.

Sam was sitting on the front stoop when Mike got back to the house. The look on his face said volumes and Mike became concerned.
“Something broken,” Mike asked.
“No,” Sam said. “Anne dashed out of here about 30 minutes ago. I don’t know if I’m right, but I think she’s really upset about something.”
“We had a fight earlier Sam. You said it bothered her a good bit. She’ll be back tomorrow, and then I’ll apologize and tell her what’s going on. We’ll talk about things, and maybe if she wants, I could formally begin courting her. That is if she wants that from me.” Mike shifted the packages in his hands and nodded his head. “Come now Sam, let’s go in.”
When Mike stepped into the doorway, the smell of cooking assaulted his nostrils and he took a deep breath. He smiled and placed the packages on the small table in the foyer. When he made it into the kitchen he saw the time written in Anne’s careful hand hanging by the bubbling pot. He lifted the lid and stirred, and the strong and pure smell of good cooking filtered out, making him smile even bigger. He dipped the spoon in and brought out a bit of the broth, blowing on it to cool it and sampled it carefully. “She did it Sam! Anne made a superb stock! This is the best she’s ever done, even when she was using magic she didn’t do this well!”
Sam leaned in and looked at Mike. “You serious,” Sam asked, wiping his nose and smearing grease on it at the same time.
“Perfectly serious my friend. I don’t know if I’ve ever made a stock so simple yet flavorful.”
“Wow. You really are serious,” Sam muttered.
“I can’t wait to see what she does next with it. This stock has some wonderful potential.”
“Ah… Back to work for me then,” Sam muttered, ducking away.
Mike drained the stock and put the scraps into a large dish that the gardener used to make his mulches and put the stock into a huge hermetically sealed jar. He opened his ice box and placed the jar in. Mike wandered back to the foyer and picked up the packages and brought them back to the kitchen. He carefully untied the twine and unwrapped the paper that covered the packages and set it aside. Smiling he looked at the various items spread out before him. His fingers drifted to a large box of confections decorated with silk ribbons and delicately painted roses. Mike knew food, but confections were beyond him. He had made some once when he was younger, but preferred not to muck about with chocolates and truffles and various other things. He opened the box and let the smell of fine imported chocolates wash over him. The shopkeeper said that it took over three weeks for the shipment of chocolate to make it from Brighton to London because the amount of unmentionables on the road. He had to promise the woman a basket of strawberries when his next batch came ripe to get the amount he got. On the other hand, the pawn shop broker told him that the necklace and earrings would cost him a pretty penny unless he promised to bring by one of his special loaves of bread. Mike looked at the glittering stones set in the finest of gold and smiled. He didn’t want to smother Anne, but instead to let her know she was precious to him, more precious than his money, or even his pride. He then sat himself down at his small table and with a small chalk board he worked out what he would write to her on one of the finest pieces of parchment he could find. He sat for hours writing and erasing, moving lines about. At one point Sam came into the room and watched him from a distance. It seemed like Sam wanted to say something, but Mike kept on plugging away at his work and Sam wandered back out. When Mike finally finished he had:

He looked at his small bit of poetry and sighed deeply but then took the time to use his best calligraphy pen and ink to put it on the fine parchment. He left the note sitting out on the table and cleaned his pen, looking at his work with a smile.
“Do you think that will work,” Sam asked from the doorway.
“I can only hope it does Sam. I can only hope,” Mike replied, carrying over the presents and laying them by the drying note.
Sam watched for a bit longer while Mike tidied things up. When Mike looked over to say something, he was gone again.

Mike slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning, waking at every small sound. When the sun rose, he dashed down the steps and brought the milk and eggs in. He set to work in the kitchen making breakfast for Sam and himself. Sam stumbled into the kitchen when Mike was setting the heaping dishes on the breakfast nook table.
“You’re up early,” Sam grumbled.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Mike said, yawning and smiling at his disheveled friend. “I find myself extremely nervous about Anne coming back this afternoon, and I might add a little excited.”
“Yeah,” Sam asked around a forkful of fried eggs and ham.
“Indeed my uncouth friend.”
Sam just stared at Mike for a moment, then turned his attention back to his breakfast and said nothing more.
The day passed slowly, Elle stopped by for lunch and saw the lavish gifts on the table and gushed about them. Mike shrugged and blushed when she complimented him on his bit of poetry and Sam remained quiet. Elle chatted through the entire meal, filling the silences that would have been otherwise awkward and cleaned the kitchen up before taking the extra food back to Mrs. Fenderson. The gardener had the day off so Sam excused himself to go check on the greenhouse and Mike decided to bake the bread to take over to the broker. He noticed however that he was short on both cheese and butter, so he went out to get some more from the dairy market. His groomsman was pleased when Mike walked into the stables with a spring in his step and asked for a ride to the dairy like a proper gentleman. The old man chattered on while driving his cart into the next quadrant over and Mike half listened as he dozed off.

Anne was heading back to Mike’s a bit early when his carriage passed her in the street. Mike was actually sitting in the back staring off dreamily and when she waved to him, he didn’t seem to notice her. Her previous optimism was crushed and she trudged back to the sprawling house that Mike called home. When she reached it, she punched in the code Sam had given her and walked in. The place was silent, she couldn’t even hear Sam’s usual banging from his few rooms on the right side of the house. She called out, but when she got no answer she headed back to the kitchen. She walked in and saw the gifts and poem. She peeked in the boxes and gasped at the lavishness of the gifts. Mike would spend money, but normally on practical things. Chocolates and jewelry were not something she could see him buying and she inwardly cursed herself for being envious of whoever this was intended for. She leaned over and read the bit of poetry and she smiled. A warm feeling washed through her and she blushed, imagining that she was its intended target, but when she reminded herself that there was no way she could be, her body went cold and a few tears leaked from her eyes. The thought of Mike going to fetch the woman who would be receiving his attentions and she shivered. She sucked in a deep breath and pulled her handkerchief from her sleeve and tapped at her face.
“I need to leave before they get back,” she muttered, and dashed from the kitchen, leaving her handkerchief on the table where she had been standing.

Sam was leaving the greenhouse and he noticed movement in the kitchen window. When he saw Anne’s small frame and delicate face he smiled and moved toward the door, but before he could catch her eye, she was running from the room. Sam ran to the kitchen door and heard the front door slam just as his foot crossed the threshold. He dashed through the house and yanked open the front door to see Anne in one of her finest dresses running as if the Devil himself was chasing her. He walked back into the kitchen to see what might have caused that reaction and noticed her handkerchief laying on the table with the gifts. Sam picked it up and felt the dampness in the corner and cursed quietly. He’d have to tell Mike what happened, but he didn’t know what he could say. He walked next door and knocked on Mrs. Fenderson’s door and it was swiftly answered by Elle.
“Sam,” Elle asked when she saw his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Anne was here just a moment ago.”
“How wonderful! Is she excited?”
“That’s one word for it,” Sam said, holding up Anne’s damp and forgotten kerchief.
“Didn’t Master Mike tell Anne how he felt,” Elle asked, confused.
“Mike was out apparently, and I was in the green house working on the heating system to protect the plants when winter comes. She saw the stuff by herself.”
Elle looked at Sam and seemed more curious by the second.
“Elle,” Sam began. “She probably has no clue that was for her. She has been known to think poorly of herself and Mike and she had a pretty vicious exchange of words yesterday.”
“Not Master Mike,” Elle began, then thought better of herself. “You’re telling me you think she saw that and thought it was for someone else?”
“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Sam said. “She was acting mighty curious last night, and left without a word to me.”
Elle screwed up her face and placed her hands on her hips. “Well then, what do we need to do,” she asked, a determined glint in her eyes.
“I don’t rightly know Elle.”Elle opened her mouth to say something else, but at that moment they heard Mrs. Fenderson calling from back in the house. Elle turned and shouted back, “gotta run, but I’ll think on this, okay Sam?”

When Mike got home, he found Sam sitting in the kitchen at the breakfast table fiddling with a small square of lacy fabric. Sam looked up and held up a monogrammed handkerchief and Mike saw Anne’s initials in the corner.
“Where did you find that Sam,” Mike asked, walking to where his friend sat.
“You were right,” Sam said. “She did come by, but you were gone and I was in the greenhouse. By the time I made it into the kitchen she was out the front door and the only thing left of her was her damp kerchief.”
“Did you say damp?”
“Yes, I said DAMP Mike,” Sam snapped, then placed his head in his free hand.
Mike slumped into the chair beside Sam and gingerly took the small and delicate handkerchief. He lifted it to look at it more closely and then put his face into both hands. “Sam, why do I keep messing things up?”
“I have no earthly clue,” Sam muttered. “How about lets go out and hunt some unmentionables, get our mind off of this so when we come back to it we’re fresh?”
Mike looked up at his friend and sighed. “Not today, I think I’ll finish the bread and check on the strawberries from the garden.”
“Mike,” Sam began, reaching to his friend, but when Mike turned to look at him, he pulled his hand back. Sam got up from the table and walked into the garden to the small corner devoted to just strawberries and looked at the ruby, heart shaped fruit.

Anne had changed clothes and had decided to take the coach back to Mike’s, the reason in her head was that she would retrieve the handkerchief she forgot, and so that she could show Mike what he was missing in her. Each bump in the road made her gasp, and she was intensely pleased that she was riding instead of walking because it would be a difficult challenge with her corset laced so tightly. As the street rolled by, she looked out at the people walking. Couples swarmed all over, women on the arms of their menfolk, smiling and twirling their parasols and chattering away. Her mood darkened when her imagination brought her the image of a similar lady on Mike’s arm wearing the jewelry she saw in his kitchen this morning, and she felt tears welling up again. Anne took a steadying breath and adjusted her hair as the coach pulled up beside Mike’s coach. Anne looked up at the hoary old man in the driver’s seat.
“Good afternoon Miss Anne,” he called out.
“Good afternoon to you too,” Anne replied. “Where are you off to this lovely afternoon?”
“Master Mike needs to run an errand,” he replied, grinning ear to ear. “Apparently he’s smitten with some Lady and is running some bread and strawberries… to.. somewhere. Best of all, he’s bein’ a proper Lord and lettin’ me drive him. Second time today Miss Anne, isn’t that amazing?”
“Yes,” Anne replied, heart aching painfully in her chest. “Truly amazing. Say, do you know who this Lady is?”
“Nary a clue Ma’am, but dare I say she’s got to be something special. Master Mike has gone not only to a broker, but a chocolatier. Neither of them folks are cheap, and you know how Master is tight with his money.”
“Yes… Yes I do know,” Anne said. “Well, it was good seeing you so happy, and talking to you. Have a good evening now.” Anne waved her driver on, and asked him to take her to the closest pub. He looked at her questioningly but did as she asked. When the coach pulled up, she got out, paid the man his dues with a hefty tip and walked right up to the large dark doors.

Mike settled into the coach, a large basket of strawberries set between his feet and three large loaves wrapped in rough cloth on his lap. The driver nudged the horses on and glanced back at Mike.
“So, who’s the lucky Lady Master,” the coachman asked.
“Anne,” Mike replied.
“Well I’ll be, I just saw her a few minutes ago. She was looking mighty fine and riding in a coach, twas odd seein’ her in a coach mind you. But she was sitting there, plain as day. We chatted some and then she headed on her way.”
“Did she say where she was going,” Mike asked, looking around.
“No sir, just waved her driver on, but they turned up on that street,” he said, pointing toward the less pleasant part of the quadrant.
“Change of plans Rupert, head down that way and after you drop me off, take the berries to the chocolatier and the bread to the broker. Would you be so kind to do that for me?”
“O’Course Master, be plenty happy to help. Why’re ya so worried though? Miss Anne is a tough lass, and can manage herself, don’t ya think?”
“I know she can Rupert,” Mike said softly. “But I’m worried because we seem to keep getting our lines crossed today. I don’t want her doing something foolish.”
“Point taken,” Rupert said, nodding and driving slowly, looking around. “There’s the driver what was driving Miss Anne,” he shouted, pointing at the coach just up the road from them.
“Quick man, catch up and get his attention. We might be lucky!”
The driver sped the horses up, and after a few bone jolting minutes they caught up to the other carriage and driver. There was a couple in the back seat, and the woman wasn’t Anne. Mike waved his hand when the driver stopped.
“Good sir,” Mike called. “Where did you drop off a lady wearing… Rupert, what was Anne wearing?”
“Baby blue and cream lace,” Rupert chimed in. “With a hat what had a small lace veil.”
The driver nodded after a moment. “Dropped that fine piece of work at McCullough’s, say about twenty minutes or so ago.”
“Thank you,” Mike called, flipping the man a coin and directing Rupert to head that way as quickly as possible.

Anne pushed open the heavy doors and walked into the smoky pub. She was greeted by a few catcalls as she made her way to the bar, but she held her head high and kept walking. The barkeep looked her up and down once and scoffed.
“What dragged you into here cupcake,” he jeered. “Boyfriend dump ya? Lookin’ to make some quick dough?”
“Neither, just the need for a stiff drink,” she answered icily. “Strongest and oldest whiskey you have, and the faster the bigger the tip.”
The barkeep laughed and sidled off to get her the drink she ordered when Anne felt a hand on her lower back and smelt bad breath heavily masked with alcohol.
“I’ll grant you your wildest wishes,” the man slurred into her ear, his hot stinking breath making her stomach churn.
“Thank you, but No. Now kindly remove your hand from my person,” Anne replied, looking at the man with disdain.
“No one tells me no,” he snarled, grabbing Anne by the chin and pressing his foul chapped lips against hers.
Anne drew her hand back and drove it hard into the mans gut, then brought her knee up in the fork of his legs. “I said no, and I actually mean it. Bugger off.”
The man knelt gasping on the floor when the barkeep returned with her drink. He set it before her and leaned over to look at the man beside her.
“He buggin ya,” the keep asked.
“Nope,” Anne replied, closing her hand around the pewter cup and casting a spell to freeze the container and its contents. The barkeep’s eyes widened and he moved away quickly as Anne lifted the metal cup to her lips. A noise came from the floor and the man pulled himself to his feet.
“You’re comin’ with me,” he whispered in her ear. “I’ll teach you how to behave,” he said as he grabbed Anne by the hair and pulled her off the stool she was perched on. Anne reached up and grabbed his wrist, screaming as her body hit the floor and she was dragged toward the door. The barkeep was lumbering to her aid, and the other patrons chose that time to be intensely interested in their own drinks.
The door burst open to reveal a sweaty and disheveled Mike. His eyes took in the scene in a second and before the man dragging Anne by the hair could react to Mike’s appearance, Mike’s fist was connecting hard with his throat. The man released Anne’s hair and toppled backward, narrowly missing landing on Anne herself.
“Anne,” Mike gasped. “You alright?”
“Just fine,” she replied, pulling herself to her feet and brushing at her now torn dress with a scowl.
“Anne, I need to talk to you,” Mike panted.
“I don’t need your help Mike, nor do I want your pity,” Anne said, pulling a coin from her purse, dropping it on the floor and brushing past Mike and out the door.

Mike sighed, and turned to follow her, but his arm was caught up in the beefy grasp of the barkeep. “You need to stay here and wait for the watch,” the barkeep rumbled.
“She’s on the watch, and if they need a statement, tell them to see Mike.”
“Mike huh,” the barkeep scoffed. “You think you’re so damned important that just your first name will do?”
“I don’t think I am, I know I am. If you tell them that Mike punched a guy helping Anne, they’ll not only know where to find me, but her as well. Aside from that fact, they’ll probably fine him for bothering her. Now let me go,” he said as he brushed the man’s hand from his sleeve. “I have more important things to do than to deal with you.”
When Mike freed himself from the barkeep, he dashed out the door to see Anne turning the corner and he ran after her, calling her name. She didn’t stop, but she seemed to be going slower than normal, so he hoped that he could catch up with her easily.
“Anne,” Mike called when he could see her just ahead. “Please listen to me Anne!”
Anne paused and turned around to look Mike in the eyes. “There is nothing I need to say to you, and I am NOT in the mood to hear how I messed something else up.”
“You have it,” Mike panted. “You have it wrong!”
“I have what wrong Mike,” she screamed. “You’re in love, I get it. I’ll get out of the way. All I do is mess things up and upset you anyway.”
Mike jogged the last few feet and doubled over at her side. “Anne,” he gasped.
“You’ve been yelling at me to scare me away so you could court your pretty lass,” she said, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You don’t need or want me, and I can’t ever seem to make you happy anyway.”
“Anne,” Mike said, straightening up. “Did you see the gifts and poem?”
“Of course I did you dolt!”
“Did you like them?”
“Why are you asking me, just teasing me and picking on me,” she screamed, her whole body trembling.
“Because Anne,” Mike said quietly. “It’s all for you.”
“Don’t be a fool Michael.. I… what?”
“You’re the lass I want to court. You are the one I fell in love with. YOU, Anne.”
“I hate you Mike,” Anne said, punching him in the chest, then collapsing into his arms, sobbing.
“You can hate me Anne, but I still love you.”
Anne looked up then, and stared deep into his eyes. The last few rays of sunlight made his skin glow and she saw he was telling the truth. Her knees buckled, but Mike caught her and lifted her in his arms gently.
“You know,” he said, his nose pressed against the side of her face. “I never realized how strongly I felt for you.”
“I know,” she whispered, relaxing into his arms. “Just never let me go.”

Ok, kinda cheesy ending, but i hope you all enjoy it!

“Damn it,” Mike roared.  “That witch Anne did it again! She casted that damned spell at the last minute, and it made her win… AGAIN!”
Sam shrugged and continued tinkering on the modified oven he was creating for his new friend.  He knew that his clockworks wouldn’t ever be able to compare with magic, but it would give Mike a better chance at least, and was completely fair for use in competitions.  The problem with spell work was that unless the judges caught the spells being cast, they couldn’t prove that the entry had been tampered.  Also, it was of most people’s opinions that people who could cast spells wouldn’t use their awesome magic powers to cheat; at least, not at cooking.  As for the new clockwork ovens, if you could afford to have one, or have one made, then more power to you.  Mike would be in trouble if they ever outlawed clockwork and steam powered cooking devices.  Sam had just finished inventing a steam system with tubes and plugs to run a variety of cooking utensils that Mike had designed.  Sam didn’t know how most of it worked, or why Mike wanted it.  But Sam saw someone with great potential, and knew if he could stick near him, they could both go far.  Sam stoked up the boiler and made sure there was enough water in the tank and watched as the kitchen bloomed into life.  Mike smiled as his new kitchen hummed, bubbled, whirred, clicked, and made it’s new sounds.  He leaned against the counter and watched as Sam wandered around, examining all the seals on the tubing and checking to make sure the valves were closed tightly when they weren’t being used.
“Sam,” Mike called tentatively.  “We’ve not gone out in a while… Want to hunt some tonight, work up a sweat, find a few dainty birds and treat them to a delicious dinner and see what comes of it?  I can set something to cooking now so we’ll have dinner ready in say… six hours or so.”
“Well,” Sam said, looking up from one of the hose valves.  “Sure, I’ve been mighty lonely since Bella left again.  And the last girl that stayed with me for a good while was Bella, and you helped me win her heart like this.  Anyway, busting a few Unmentionables’ heads would be good exercise that neither of us has been getting enough of.  I’ll go prepare the bait and gather the weapons.”
Sam left the room with a smile and Mike began working his kitchen magic.  After about thirty minutes both men were ready and waiting in the large foyer of Mike’s house.  Sam was holding a large blunderbuss in his hands and beside him was the ammo boxes and Mike’s pair of pistols, with a few cloth wrapped slabs of fresh meat.  The linen was slowly turning crimson from the blood, and Mike looked down at it.
“Spared no expense, huh Sam,” he asked, smiling.
“Nope, I’m feeling lucky, and I want good endings on the rest of the evening.”  Sam picked up his box of ammo, stuffed it in his pocket and then a bag of meat and threw it over his shoulder.  When he was ready, he opened the front door and waited for Mike to gather his things and walk through.  When Mike made it to the walk, he turned to look at Sam who was pressing a series of buttons, and watching the cogs turn.
“I think I’ve perfected the new security system finally Mike,” he said, smiling.  “We shouldn’t have to replace any more doors.  Plus, Mrs. Fenderson, you know her.  She’s the widow next door said that she wanted one if it was out of prototype phase.  Of course, her cook said that he would quite like your kitchen, and the maid asked when you’d start looking for a wife, nice and proper like.”
“You are such a gossip, i swear,” laughed Mike as they walked to the steam and horse powered coach that Sam had been working on.
Sam had notified the groomsman to prepare the coach and horses right after he left, knowing it would take the elderly chap as long as they could give him.  When Mike arrived, the groomsman scrambled down from the seat so Mike could drive it.  As Sam climbed up, he heard the man mutter something like “gentlemen never drove their own coaches in my day” as he walked back to the stables.
“Sam, do you think we’re ever going to make it,” Mike asked as he fired up the small boiler that helped push the coach some so the horses had to do less work.  His eyes were focused on his kitchen rival who was wearing the finest and most fashionable gowns for ladies in the age and as they rumbled forward, she looked up.  Their eyes locked, and both looked away, turning scarlet.  Sam held back his laughter, and answered his friend as solemnly as possible.
“Mike, you’re the best cook I know, even with her magic, your food tastes better.”
“You’re being too kind.  I’m surprised that the university hasn’t discovered you tinkering and snapped you into their development department.”
“Well,” Sam laughed.  “I’m keeping as quiet as I can, the university is one thing, the military is another.  I don’t want to develop war machines.”
Mike nodded and before they knew it they were out in the countryside.  They found an older cemetery and noticed a few of the graves were fairly fresh.  The men tossed their bait bags off in opposite directions and sat on the high bench on the coach and watched for their quarry.  Before long, three of the undead menace called “unmentionables” shambled from the small copse of trees near the old graveyard.  One who was in a fine silk dress, but missing her bottom jaw reached it first.  Her bony hands tore at the fabric, and she managed to rip a small chunk off before the other two got there.  The other two were larger and newer looking.  One was corpulent, but his cheap suit didn’t survive the weather very well, the other was well built, and buried in simple work clothes.  As Mike picked off his three leisurely with his paired pistols, Sam spotted two very large ones shambling quickly toward his bait.  He watched them for a moment, but when it caught up with his brain that something was wrong, Mike turned to look.
“Spell casters,” they said in unison.
“I’ve never seen the other races, let alone spell casters come back from the Sickness,” Sam said, reaching into his coat pocket.
“Me either, we’ll have to report it to the council when we get home,” he said, watching them rush at the meat, shoving at each other the whole while.  “Are you going to shoot them, or do you need me to?”
Sam looked at Mike, and saw his face drawn and upset.  Mike began lifting a pistol when Sam’s fingers wrapped around what he was looking for.
“I’ve got it, don’t you worry,” said Sam while smiling.  He threw the small cylinder and it landed near the meat, right between the unmentionables.  Mike looked at Sam like he was crazy, but after a moment, there was a large explosion and when the dust cleared, the meat, unmentionables, and some of the ground was gone.  Mike laughed as Sam fired the carriage back up.
“Let’s get back to town, tell the council, and scare us up some birds,” Sam said, hopping back into the carriage.
They roared though the city streets, meeting little to no resistance because they still bore the marks of a successful hunt.  When they made it to the chambers there was arguing from both sides from the new information.  Sam and Mike slipped out and went to the closest pub where they looked for a few pretty birds and tried to drown the horror of what they saw in the field earlier that day.  Thankfully after a short turn of the clock they both had a bird on their arm, and they escorted the ladies to their clockwork carriage.  The girls “ooh”ed and “Aww”ed from their place in the back seat, and Mike put his coat down over the bloody spot from where the bait bags had sat.  The trip home was short, but bitter cold, and when they got there the ladies were shivering but still giggling.  Sam made it through the clockwork lock in record time, and the special boiler for keeping the house toasty was doing it’s job perfectly.  Sam expounded and extolled on the quality of the meal that Mike had prepared for them that evening.  Mike on the other hand pointed out all the small conveniences that Sam had not only built, but invented or improved.  The ladies were impressed, and the meal was excellent. After all of them had had far too much sherry with their dessert, the talking became heated and full of things not proper in polite society.  The ladies said they didn’t want to have to go home in such cold weather, and neither Sam nor Mike blamed them, so Sam went up to get two rooms ready while Mike showed the ladies where all the amenities were in the house, and they all retired.  That night wicked and evil dreams haunted all of them and when they woke and returned down to the breakfast room, the ladies demanded to depart before the meal.  Sam summoned the normal coach and had the groomsman take them home while the gentlemen discussed the dreams that haunted them so vigorously the night before.
“I don’t know,” said Mike, staring at his hands and the steaming mug clutched between them.  “Just like i was being hunted, by something.. bad.”
“Yeah, sounds like mine,” Sam sighed.  “Not a good sign.  We need to let them know it happened,  you know, the. . .”
There was a loud banging, and shouting, and then the front door burst open.  The maid from next door ran in, her face flushed.
“Unmentionables, in the city, apparently someone forgot to lock a gate, and some new kind of creatures, worse than norm. . .”
“Spell casters,” both men said again in unison.  The maid stared at them, frightened, but holding her ground as best as she could.  She shrugged while shaking her head. Mike grunted as he pushed away from the table and ran to the gun case.  Sam ran to his work room and began rummaging, and the maid, at a loss for something to do tidied up the kitchen.  A few moments later, the men ran back into the kitchen, each giving her a peck on the cheek with a barely laudable ‘thanks’ as they ran to the stables out back.  Sam fired up the mini boiler and Mike warmed up and applied the tack to a few of the horses that were brave enough to pull the noisy cart.  They got the horses attached and drove it into the streets, Sam steading his large rifle and watching the streets for anything unusual.  They turned the corner, and standing in the middle of the road was Anne, still in her dressing gown and looking quite out of sorts.
“Out of the road,” shouted Mike.
“Stop the cart you bloody idiot,” she shouted back at him.
As the cart slowed to a stop and Sam stared at Mike bewildered, and the emotion was mirrored on Mike’s face.
“I hate you,” Mike muttered as Anne climbed into the back.
“Yeh? Well, you’re not pretty either.”
“He hates you because you CHEAT Anne,” Sam said while looking her straight in the eyes.  She dropped her gaze and stared at the back of the opposite seat.
“Yeh, I do cheat. I ken cook, but well, ‘ere ya are and yer cookin’ is nice… but ‘ere I, I’m, worthless.  All I’s got is magic… pointless spells…”
Mike handed Sam the reins and dropped into the back seat.  Sam pulled the cart back into action as Mike looked at a fragile looking woman shivering in her dressing gown and barefooted.  Mike pulled his jacket off, and almost lost his seat when Sam took another corner. Anne took the coat and slid it on belting it tightly over her thin shift.
“Thank ye,” she muttered.
“Yeah, well. . .  You’re welcome, I guess,” Mike muttered.
The cart pitched again, and as Mike and Anne were getting themselves picked back up Anne was thrown into Mike’s lap from a sudden stop.  The horses were pawing the ground nervously and when Mike stood up, he saw the Watch and quite a few of the other ‘Armed Gentlemen’ club members holding their guns and watching a bulging gate.  Sam stood up on the seat and watched as a few men were running information back and forth.  It took him a moment but Mike caught the eye of a runner, the boy ran up, panting.
“Sirs and lady,” he wheezed.
“What’s going on here,” Mike asked.
“Some new unmentionables invaded last night.  Thought a door was open.  Found the entry site and found the door knocked in. Door’s so damaged took ‘em a while to find it.  Knocked it clean off its hinges, and a block up!”
Sam stood and stared down at the panting boy.  His face twisted for a moment, and when he spoke his voice was barely a whisper.
“Is that section left for dead?”
“No Sir, but the people have barricaded up their homes and are pickin’ the beasts off.  They closed the gates when it was realized what happened, we’re just waitin’ for the worst at this point.”
Sam nodded and hopped off the high seat and ran to a building beside the gate.  Mike, Anne, and the boy watched him with curiosity for a moment, and the boy shrugged.
“Anything else gov,” the kid asked, his breathing finally steadied.
“No,” Mike said, waving his hand dismissively.  He watched the boy as he ran off and dissapeared into the growing crowd.  Before long they saw Sam standing on the roof of the building and he was leaning so he could see into the other quadrant of the city.  Mike shouted for him to be careful, but Sam couldn’t hear him apparently.  Sam pulled something from his pockets, small glittery things, and threw them over the wall.  Mike watched as the fell down behind the wall like shooting stars, and after a moment came a concussive popping sound, then the ground shook.  Mike looked for Sam on the roof again, but he was nowhere to be seen.  The pressure on the wooden door lightened, then the loud creaking noise that was from the weight stopped.  The street was silent but for some murmuring from small groups.  Sam appeared beside them, and smiled.
“I never left your sight,” Sam muttered.  “I walked forward, tried to find a constable to talk to, and came back after I didn’t run into the one I though I saw from my previous high vantage point.”
Mike nodded quickly, and Anne was shortly behind him.  They watched as the small door in the center of the large gate was pulled slightly open.  When the door swung open, the crowd gasped, guns were raised again and there was a collective gasp.
“What’s coming through the door Sam,” Mike asked, looking at the scene before him.
“Looks like week old, charred and rotted slop from the butchers,” Sam said, then began laughing.  “They worked better than I expected them to.”
Mike and Anne looked up at Sam, then back to the gate where some armed men began to cautiously enter the previously blockaded quadrant.  There was a scream from a few that had entered, and then an exodus of bodies trying to escape from that tiny door.  Directly behind the last man was a small unmentionable, but her hands were definitely weapons.  Very occasionally lightning arched from them, striking down those unlucky enough to be in her way.  As she moved forward, she would stop to bite those that had fallen before her.  Her once delicate mouth was bloody, and she looked at all the men with guns trained on her.  Anne was standing in the seat, watching when she gasped.
“Eliza! ‘Ere, shes been dead now for… a few ‘ears, she’s the reason I quit my studies,” Anne muttered.  She climbed to the drivers seat so she could see better and stared long and hard at her once sister and rival.
“”Ey, YOU,” Anne yelled at the unmentionable who was looking around.  “I’s got a bone to pick with ye!”
The Unmentionable raised her arms, but Anne was faster, letting earsplitting lightning crackle over the crowd, striking her target in the chest.  The dead Eliza stood, and raised her arms again, and when the lightning snaked from her hands, Anne was ready.  The bold sizzled, racing through the air, and Anne caught it, deflecting it harmlessly into the sky.  Anne then lifted her arms and pulled them down in a sudden, but smooth motion, and fire snaked from the sky, enveloping the corpse.  The unmentionable named Eliza shrieked and groaned, and the crowd backed far from her burning and flailing body.  After her demise, a few more men crept through the open door and found at side of the quadrant empty. The survivors were glad to see humans walking the streets, and later that day, the watch had quite a few young people itching to join.  Anne was approached by a council member and asked about not only her spell casting ability, but about also joining the Watch to train those who carried the spark.  She mumbled at the old man, but eventually she was taken to see the constable and they ended up talking a good while.  There were cries on the street, asking who used magic to kill most of the unmentionables hiding behind the wall, but no one owned up to it, and by the time it happened, Mike and Sam were once again long gone.
The next few days were quiet, the papers showed the heroine of the hour Anne, and a few other valiant fighters from other districts, and Anne stopped by to return Mike’s coat.  They stood in the anteroom for a long time, silent, when Anne spoke.
“Listen,” she said, her horrible accent almost completely gone. “Please don’t tell anyone about what you saw.  You caught me by surprise.  I’ve spoken to the panel of the last competition.  The found out that I was a spell caster, and when asked if I used magical enhancement, i told the truth.  They’ve asked for a cook off between us in the head member of the panel’s home tomorrow.  Bring nothing but your knives, and I’ll send a carriage around at 5.”
Mike stared at her as she walked out of his house, her head held high and full of dignity.  Sam walked up and clapped his friend on the shoulder, making Mike jump.
“Things are working out i see,” Sam said.
“Yes, but i was only told to bring knives, none of my other equipment,” Mike said gloomily.
“You know nothing of the kitchen, you might be pleased and surprised at what you find.”
Mike shrugged and walked away, leaving Sam wondering what happened.
The next evening Mike had his knife roll under his arm, and his best suit on.  Sam was dressed as he was always dressed, standing a few feet behind his nervously pacing friend.  The bell rang at five on the dot, and Mike rushed to open the door.  Standing there was a man groomed most elegantly and a carriage just down on the street.  Mike stepped forward, and the man began to close the door when Sam caught it.
“Wait on me, let me lock up,” Sam said.
Once the door was locked, and they were safely seated, the coach took off again to the center of their district.  Sam noticed that both Mike and Anne were looking anywhere but each other, and both wore pained expressions.  He smiled a bit at this, but said nothing.  After a winding drive, they pulled up into a large courtyard and the Butler helped them down from the carriage and a maid showed them into the house.  The place was huge, and the kitchen they were led to was nice, but couldn’t touch Mike’s kitchen back home.  He walked around and looked at what equipment they’d be working with, and landed next to Anne at the covered ingredient table.  The judging panel came from the dining room and saw the three of them there.  The master of the house walked up to the table and rested his hands on its edge.
“With our discovery of her… Talent.  We have decided to try this again, just between the two of you.  Your cooking is augmented by the clockwork items you use, and hers by her magic.  Here, neither will be allowed.  You have 3 hours, the run of the kitchen and spice cabinet, and anything else you can find to use.  You can only use your own knives, and both of you will be carefully watched.  Make us proud, and fill us up, we’ve been wating all day for this coming meal.”  The old man and a few others came and lifted the cover from the table to reveal slabs of flesh, fish, vegetables, and various other things.  Mike pulled out one of his knives and sliced off a few large hunks of meat and carried them back to one area.  He came back with a large bowl and gathered more items off the table while Anne stood and stared at the ingredients like she didn’t know where to start.  Just as Anne’s hand reached forward, Mike was beside her, leaning in and grabbing two large fish.
“Good luck,” he said to her, his voice gentle in her ear.
“You too,” she replied, her small hand wrapping around a large leg bone covered in meat.
The smells from the kitchen were amazing, and both worked hard.  Mike finished before the time was up, and spend the last bit of time working on his presentation, where Anne struggled to get everything on a plate in time.  A large serving crew came and carried all the dishes and placed them on separate serving bars in the dining room, and both contestants and Sam were invited to sit.
Each dish was presented, and each person at the table was expected to fill out a small form in the tablet set by each plate.  The dishes were ranked on a scale with categories like presentation, portion, compatibility of ingredients, and various other traits.  They discussed the merits of the dishes as they ate, filling out the form at the end, and almost always, Sam was the last to finish his questionnaire.
After the meal was done, Sam, Anne, and Mike were shown to the drawing room, and asked to wait.  The three of them sat in silence as a heated discussion filtered to their ears.  The words were mushed and hard to understand, but the tone behind them wasn’t, and Sam was glad he wasn’t in there for the discussion.
After what seemed like forever, the head judge, and master of the house came out and asked Mike and Anna to stand.
“We’ve read the score cards, debated, and come to the conclusion.  Even without your gadgetry, the quality of your food still stands Mike.  Anna, we were terribly disappointed in what we discovered of your natural cooking ability.  Mike, you have been awarded the honor of being Top Chef in the quadrant, and the city competition is only a few weeks away.  Get working on something new, we expect the best from you.”
Mike and Anna stood there, looking at the judges, then at each other.
“I know you’ll win,” Anna said smiling, quietly placing her tiny hand in his. “I can feel it.”

Instead of simply using each individual client, why not use one client to handle all of these chat networks at once? There are many clients that do that. A few of them are Trillian, Miranda IM, and, my favorite, Pidgin. (Digsby can also be used, and it has many other capabilities beside instant messaging, you have to be careful while installing it to uncheck any bundleware, so I’m not going to suggest using it, and I won’t link to it, either.) Click here for even more options.

As for Firefox add-ons, might I suggest FireGestures, an add-on that adds mouse gestures and various other shortcuts to Firefox, all of which are customizable. You could even set it up to direct the browser to a certain website by drawing a certain symbol, such as a G for Google.

“Jay,” a quiet voice pleaded in his ear, he noticed overwhelming white light out of the corner of his eye closest to the voice. “Jay, Jacob, can you hear me? You need to make a decision, it’s crucial. Please, listen to me. You just have…”
A deep laughter sounded on the other side of him, a sickly green light filtered from that side, seeming to be not brighter, but closer to in front of him and covering more space.
“Have you even listened to what the boy said,” snarled the deep voice, seemingly talking to the quieter voice on the opposite side. “Your God, if you can call him that, already failed the child once. More than once actually.”
“Jay,” the soft voice sighed. “This isn’t just good over evil, it’s more important. Turning down that road is madness. You have to see that, you’ve read your grandfather’s book.”
The deep voice laughed again, this time, as it laughed, the sickly light pulsated. Jay wanted to turn his head to see the hidden speakers whispering in his ears. He wanted to be able to speak and ask questions, but the more that he thought about things, he convinced himself that it was all just a strange dream. He tuned the arguing voices out, instead letting his mind wander. He wandered through memories, of his parents, of his sister, of his friends, and his sexual exploits. He remembered his clumsy first kiss, and the girl whom he shared it with; his sister playing the violin on a small stage at a recital; his parents walking down the isle in Kohl’s hand in hand. From there, the memories turned sour; he saw his sister messed up from ‘falling down the stairs’ even though she didn’t have stairs at her house; his parents screaming in their bedroom, the sound waking him from a sound sleep and keeping him up all night; meeting a young girl, who then proceeded to force him beyond the point of his comfort, and in the end leaving him a crying lump in her bed. He tried to shake himself awake while the voices kept on bickering over him. The soft one pleaded with him when it could get a word in edgewise, but that was becoming less and less. When he finally opened his eyes, the sun was streaming in through the mini blinds and making his head hurt.

Jay rolled over and grabbed his cellphone off the nightstand. Looking at the time he groaned, and flipped the phone open. After pressing a few buttons, he held the phone up to his ear.
“Yeah, this is Jay, I need to speak to Mitchell please,” he said, his voice rough and gravelly. “Mitchell, hey. I don’t think I’m going to be making it in today.” Jay coughed, then pulled the phone from his ear and coughed again, bringing up a large wad of phlegm, the same color of the light in his dream.
“Yeah man, I’m really sick, and now I’m going to go take a hot bath and see if i can loosen this stuff up,” he croaked before closing his phone and putting it down. He rolled back onto his side and breathed heavily. Each breath was a pain, and he knew he needed to start breathing better or he’d end up back in the hospital. He rolled out of bed and staggered into the bathroom and turned the water on in the shower to heat up while he relieved himself and undressed. The small room quickly filled with steam, leaving the air looking like it did last night, but this time the smell of the steam was sweet and comforting. He felt the pressure in his lungs lessen and when he eased his fingertips into the water, it was perfect. He stepped into the shower and felt the hot water course over his body.
“Man, what a bizarre dream last night,” he said out loud, surprising himself.
The day progressed slowly and his neighbor Mrs. Townsend stopped by when she noticed his car was still in the driveway. She stood in the doorway and she could smell the burned herbs. Her eyes widened for a moment, but then she lifted a large container of soup.
“Saw you were home honey, brought you some soup. You only stay home if you’re sick, just like your Dad. He always worked too hard, and I worry that you’re doing it too,” she said, looking up at him with concern in her eyes.
“Thanks Mrs. Townsend,” Jay croaked. “This is just what I needed.”
Mrs. Townsend waved her hand dismissively at him and stretched up to plant a bright red kiss on his cheek before tottering off to her house. Jay stood in the doorway, watching her to make sure she made it in, and when she waved before shutting her door, he smiled grimly, waved back, and closed his own door.
After eating the delicious and hot soup, Jay lay on his couch in the living room. He could see the messy altar, and a few feet away lay the small cross that he tried to take off the wall the night before. He stared at them and his eyes grew heavy. As they began to close, the bickering started up again, leaving his rest disturbed and shattered. He woke up and shambled into the kitchen and put the container of soup in the microwave to warm it back up, and when the microwave beeped, he almost heard the cruel and deep laughter sounding. He lifted the container to his lips instead of dishing it out, and drank the hot liquid deeply, saving just a small bit so he could take some cold medicine. He swallowed the pills down with the last of the soup and staggered to bed. Once he slid between the sheets, the bickering started up once more. Jay covered his eyes with his arm and noticed that his skin was burning hot and the more he thought about it, it felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. He groaned and rolled from one side to the other, seeking a comfortable position. He fell asleep before finding one, and spend the whole night listening to the pleas, ridicules, and bickering of the two voices.
When he woke, he saw Mrs. Townsend sitting on the edge of the bed, her cold hands on his face.
“Oh Honey,” she exclaimed. “When you didn’t come to your door all day yesterday, nor at all today I went and found my spare key. When I found you here, I called you an ambulance because I don’t drive at night anymore.”
Jay stared up at her in confusion, the voices were bickering even louder, and the only thing that quieted them was when he began to cough. Mrs. Townsend handed him her handkerchief and rubbed his back as he hacked and wheezed. In was seemed less than a minute, there was a knocking on the door, and she stood up and hobbled to it, letting the paramedics in. They came in and saw him, and one of them backed away and crossed himself while the other just stared aghast. When they finally got him on the gurney, Mrs. Townsend tottered behind and said that she would be riding with him, and asked the ‘good boys’ to wait for her to get the house locked up. Once she was in the back, sitting beside him on the small bench, both men got in the front and the ambulance drove off. She stared at him a good bit and then shook her head.
“Honey, I cleaned up your altar and put it away, along with the book. I also hung your Daddy’s cross back on the wall where it belonged. Now, it’s time you make your decision. I’m not gonna judge you either way, you’re still my little Jay.”
Jay just stared at her in disbelief and shook his head.
“Mrs. Townsend, what’s happening,” he groaned, the breathing mask obscuring his words slightly.
“Well, I can only guess you got sick of the relatively absent God in your life and searched for another. I remember when your Granddaddy did it, and I remember the choice he made. It was the right one for him. You need to make the choice that’s right for you,” she said, looking at her purse in her lap. “Can’t say that I’m not scared seeing you like this Honey, but, I know you’ll be ok.”
“So if I make a choice, they’ll shut up,” Jay asked.
“Don’t know Honey, I never messed with the slumbering Gods.”
“If i change my mind, can I go back?”
‘Sorry Honey, once again, I don’t have a clue. I only remember watching your Granddaddy, and I was just a girl then. He never got sick like you, but I remember he had an altar just like yours.”
“I don’t want to choose either of them,” Jay wheezed. “I just want it to go back to the silence it was before. This endless bickering is too much.”
Mrs. Townsend shrugged and squeezed his hand. Her skin felt like ice compared to his. She smiled down at him and with her other hand she brushed a piece of hair from his eyes.
“The Gods are what they are, and that mostly means absent. Doesn’t mean that we get off the hook and get to do what we want though,” she said, picking at a hair that was stuck to his forehead. “Close your eyes and get some rest, and make sure to tell them what you chose.”
Jay nodded, his eyes slipping closed again. Both of the lights were muted in comparison to before, and both voices far weaker. Jay listened to them bicker, heard their promises, and realized how empty their words were. He felt his eyes open, and turned his head from side to side, seeing only amorphous shadows undulating in the light.
“I’m not taking sides in your war,” he said, looking from one side to the other. “Don’t drag me into it.”
With those last words, the lights faded and Jay fell into a silent black expanse of deep sleep. Mrs. Townsend sat, her hand still lightly holding his and smiled.
]]> http://cafekongblog.wordpress.com/2009/10/23/the-ineffable-truths-regarding-the-morality-of-an-absent-god-fast-fiction-title-by-ether_shadow/feed/ 0 ownedgirl http://cafekongblog.wordpress.com/2009/10/21/one-for-the-road-fast-fiction-titlegenresubject-by-afrocelt/ http://cafekongblog.wordpress.com/2009/10/21/one-for-the-road-fast-fiction-titlegenresubject-by-afrocelt/#comments Thu, 22 Oct 2009 02:17:02 +0000 ownedgirl http://cafekongblog.wordpress.com/?p=83 ]]> One for the road – fast fiction ~Title/genre/subject by AfroCelt~

“CRAP,” Jon shouted as he ran. The shuttle to the main campus was leaving in less than a minute and he was still putting his presentation together. Jon reached up and pressed the button on the intercom and waiting for the beeps.
“Mark, can you and Jeanette hold the shuttle for another five minutes. I need to gather up the supplies for my presentation.”
“I don’t know Jon,” Jeanette’s sultry voice echoed through the small speaker. “I mean, yeah, the presentation will fall flat without you. But I don’t want to get in trouble for being late.”
“Jeanette, listen… I don’t want to be in trouble either, but if I don’t get all the stuff in order the trouble we’re in will be worse than it would be for just being late,” Jon argued.
“Hmmph,” Jeanette sighed. “We’ll hold the shuttle Jon, but for everyone who complains, we’ll send them your way.”
“Oh thanks Jeanette, seriously… Thank you.”
Jon went back to bustling around in his laboratory, throwing things into a box and rolling up large pieces of paper. After a final quick look around the lab, Jon picked up a small glass box with specimens in it and gingerly placed it on top of the box. With that, he headed to the shuttle port, carefully carrying the box and papers. He made it on the shuttle, and got to hear the complaints and admonishments from his co-workers. Jon sat down carefully, his face scarlet, he spent the time while departure was being prepped shifting the box contents around so they didn’t break or fall over. The flight over was unremarkable, and when they landed, the control at the main campus was testy from their late arrival. Once again Jon had to make apologies, and he carried his box down the hall. As he neared the the conference hall, one of the previous presenters ran out and knocked Jon over. His box went flying and by the time he regathered everything he was much later than he expected to be.
“I apologize for my tardiness director,” Jon said as he set up his presentation. As he placed the vials and specimen boxes in the center of the table and busied himself with finishing the set up one of the directors moved to look at a vial.
“Please be careful Director Malachi,” said Jon. “If just one drop of that virus got out, the whole compound would be infected, and we’d have to bomb the place to kill it off.”
The director pulled his hand away quickly and in the process, his sleeve got caught on the box and pulled the whole set over, breaking a few of the vials. Jon stared dumbfounded as the viruses mixed on the table, and quickly began evaporating. The directors stood and stared between Malachi, the evaporating liquid, and Jon.
Jon ran over to the door and pressed the Emergency button, and heard the klaxon blare through the large compound. Jon stared at the directors sadly.
“Well then, it’s time for you all to go to your suites and manage your last rites, directions to the rest of the compounds, and any other personal businesses. Only myself and a few others have been inoculated against these strains and gone through the quarantine lock.”
The directors stumbled back to their quarters while Jon stood there, staring at his now lost hard work. He paced around the room, then went to the small trash can in the corner and threw up. When he stood, wiping his mouth, he began to laugh. His laughter started small, moved to hysterics and ended as suddenly as it started. Breathing heavily, Jon walked to the intercom and pressed the buttons to summon the shuttle bay.
“Jeanette, Mark, either of you there,” Jon asked.
“I’m here,” Mark answered, the klaxon blaring in the background.
“Listen, run into the detox tent there and press in 52B-3J1. I’ll be there and need you to take me back to the outlying estates so I can monitor the compound.”
“You got it Jon, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
Jon turned the intercom system off and walked to the control panel. He activated the sequences needed for complete lock down and monitoring, and made sure that his password was the only one able to change anything and then walked back to the shuttle bay. He saw Mark hopping on the balls of his feet, waiting, while the other people finished lock down procedure.
“We leaving the compound Jon? I don’t see how, the bays are all locked,” Mark whispered when Jon got beside him.
“Did you enter the code into the detox chamber and follow the instructions,” Jon asked, ignoring the question.
“Well yeah, even though waiting for two minutes seemed to take forever, i stood in there for an extra 15 seconds to be sure.”
“Good. Actually, perfect,” Jon smiled. “Let me get out of these clothes and go through the sanitizer, while you take the ship to the med lock, Ok?” Jon watched as Mark walked off and started removing all of his clothes. When he got to the chamber, he dumped his clothes in the incinerator and walked through the sanitizing shower. The chemicals and hot water stung, but when he made it into the sterile bay he saw the ship and a baffled Mark waiting for him. He grabbed a coat and stepped into the bay.
“Listen man, my code won’t open the door. We can’t leave.”
“Take a run though the shower there, and burn your clothes. I’ll have us ready to leave when you’re back.”
“JON, are you listening to a word I say here,” Mark yelled.
“Yes, I am. And I can get us out of here. And I know what’s happening, I ran the scenario so many times. Listen, I’m scared, but I’m holding things together, you need to do it too.”
Mark nodded and stripped and ran into the sanitizer shower. Jon could hear Mark screaming, and wondered numbly why things happened this way. As his mind was wandering, Mike came staggering out of the shower and grabbed a coat similar to the one Jon was wearing. As Mike staggered into the shuttle, Jon watched him with a blank expression.
“Jon, did you clear the ship to leave yet?
“Hmm? Oh, No…. Hold on,” Jon said, snapping out of his daze. He punched some buttons, and spoke a few quiet words into the console of the shuttle and the bay doors opened to the setting sun. Jon stared at the sunlight and smiled slightly, then his face fell. He looked down at Mike and sighed.
“We need to get out of here and back to my lab Mike, it’s urgent. I only have half of the antigen done for those viruses, and since they’re both so virile, i don’t know if I’ll be able to calculate the mutations fast enough to save anyone.”
Mike just stared at Jon in disbelief for a moment, then concentrated on the docking procedures. As the ship touched down, Mike looked up again at Jon.
“Jon, do i have the virus too,” he asked quietly.
“It’s quite possible, yes. You got an antibody that would shut down any functions of the virus for only a short time, maybe another 30 minutes, and from there you’ll have to go into the quarantine tube in my lab so I can monitor you, and the rest of the people in the main compound. I can only hope that you’re safe and healthy though.”
“If i have it, is it going to hurt?”
“Yes,” answered Jon, looking away from his friend.
“Am i going to die?”
“I hope not.”
“Oh,” said Mike while staring at his hands.
“Comon, we need to get you in the quarantine area in my lab, the faster we get there the safer everyone is, including yourself,” Jon said, putting on a forced smile.
Mike stood up and left the ship, following behind Jon, his numb expression matching Jon’s almost completely. Jon turned once, to look at his friend, but unable to think of anything to say, they marched on. The lab and office were close, and the small outlying campus was deserted. Everyone had gone in for their meetings, meals, and nightly rest. Jon sealed the lab, then sealed Mike in a room attached to the lab. He summoned dinner and clothes by the work drones that were left for those who needed to work through a rest cycle. When everything arrived, Jon sent it over through the locking tube system. He set the machines and computers to analyze everything in the room with Jon, and then pulled up a chair to sit by his friend after he had pulled his clothes on.
The machines whirred, and the computer occasionally beeped. Jon checked the updates on his small portable pad. So far, things were looking good for Mike, but the main compound was fading fast. The two viruses had mutated into one singular virus. The strengths of both were evident, and some of the weaknesses were diminished. When checking on the Directors, especially Director Malachi, the computer picked up less brain waves than should have been present. Drastically so, yet the hindrances and pain receptors seemed to also be dulled as was evident from all the bruises, scrapes, and cuts. He also seemed to have some sort of strength boost, and apparently one of the viruses activated a few retroviruses in the system, because he was breaking out in large boils and a few black patches had appeared. Some of the employees from in the bays had only just started the mutation, their skin covered with bruises and small wounds, but their brains were still high functioning. Jon flipped the wall screen on so he and Mike could watch together. Mike couldn’t understand what the constant scrolling under the smaller viewing windows meant, but he could see the progression. Jon scanned the quarantine area again to see if the virus had cropped up, and had the computer reanalyze the air in the directors chambers. When the statistics came back, both men stared in horror. Mike had the virus, and it had started attacking his immune system. The directors were almost brain dead, shambling around their rooms, violently attacking anything they came into contact with. Jon typed instructions into the computer, ran a few calculations, and then set the computer to work, trying to get some kind of effective antigen or quick producing genetic key that could block further progression of the virus.
Mike watched the progress of the people in the compound as the computers gathered and stored the data. Jon on the other hand spent that same time in calculations and deep thought. As the virus progressed in Mike, Jon kept running tests. After 15 exhausting hours, the men slept, and were awoken to another alarm. The local security group had decided to investigate the lock down of the main compound and broke into the area. Mike and Jon watched in horror as the beasts that were once human shambled from their rooms and suites. The infected fell upon those who invaded, letting little take them down but the complete severance of their spinal cord at the base of the skull. That took the soldiers quite a few casualties and injuries to find out. Jon accessed the intercom system when he saw a small group of soldiers huddled by one on the screen.
“Hey… Hey there… What force are you from,” Jon asked, startling a few of the soldiers.
“We’re from the 42nd, that’s stationed two compounds over. When the emergency warning was triggered we were sent,” one of the men answered.
“I’m sorry to say that your presence is what doomed you.”
“What do you mean,” another soldier demanded, shoving the first man out of the way.
“A totally lethal set of viruses was accidentally released into the compound, and it was closed on medical lock down. You broke in and caused a breach. Aside from the fact that you are now infected too, the airborne infection is now spreading to the rest of the world.”
Mike began to seize in the quarantine room and Jon turned his attention to his friend for a moment. The intercom speaker flared to life with the sound of rapid gunfire and screams. When Jon looked back to the screen where the soldiers stood, he only saw a bloody smear, and a few of the infected clumsily feeding on the shredded flesh.
Jon looked over at his friend who lay on the small and uncomfortable cot with his eyes closed. After a moment Mike opened his eyes.
“Jon,” Mike coughed. “You have to get out of here… Take your data, because before… you know it, the whole planet will be infected… Set the natural defense system. I know you know the code for it… even though you’re not supposed to.”
“I,” Jon said.
“Set it for 2 days, and put a land lock on. I can set that up, the only shuttle that…. will be able to leave will be the one we… came here on. Give me control on the data pad… Hurry… I feel my mind… slipping.”
Jon hit some keys and the pad near Mike’s hand flared to life. Mike feverishly pressed some buttons, spoke a few commands, and pressed a few long series of codes in. When the typing was complete, Mike collapsed back onto the bed.
“Done,” he gasped.
Jon stared at Mike and then began setting up the self destruct of the human zone of the planet. The whole process took less than thirty minutes. Jon occasionally glanced up to see his friend either in the middle of a seizure, or laying terribly still on the cot.
“Jon,” Mike asked. “Kill me now… Please… This pain is too much… I don’t want to… be like them… I… I want to die…. with some dignity left.”
Jon stared for a long moment, then nodded. He pressed the button that sent first a knockout gas into the chamber, then finally a fairly painless gas to asphyxiate his friend while he slept. Jon watched the process with tears in his eyes, then he set the computer to store the gathered information onto his portable drives. While the computer was transferring data, he turned his attention back to the wall screen and watched as a few soldiers escaped back to their shuttle, only to find it land locked, and they ran on foot, trying to reach another compound. The infected that had been following them perused clumsily. Jon turned away from the screens and went to his desk drawer. In there was hidden a small bottle. He cracked the seal on it’s lid, and lifted the bottle to the sky.
“One for the road,” Jon muttered, tossing back the liquid in a single gulp. He looked at the bottle in his hand, and then let it fall to the ground as he picked up his portable memory port and headed toward the shuttle to his freedom.