Scott didn’t like her. He’d been suspicious of her the first time they’d met, back when the triplets were fourteen and didn’t know much better. All three of them had been charmed by the pretty college girl, the one who was willing to listen to Clay’s bad poetry, learn new rhythms from Bob, spar with Dan, but Scott knew it was bizarre, how perfect she was for each of them. She was perfect for him, too, but he was the older brother, and he would cut off his own hands before he let anyone hurt his brothers, and he was sure she’d hurt at least one of them.
He just hadn’t realized how she could hurt them.
She was sitting in Clay’s chair on the front porch, hands folded neatly in her lap, when Scott returned from walking the midnight perimeter.
“What are you doing here?” He didn’t care that his tone was rude or hostile.
“I brought medicine for Bob.”
“You could have left it on the table and been on your way.” Scott swung his axe up on his shoulder and studied her. He was taller than her, not that he or any of his brothers were particularly tall, and outweighed her by a lot. He imagined he was almost angry enough to take her.
“This is your house. It’s rude to enter someone’s house uninvited,” she said. Her gaze was perfectly frank, and Scott had the strange notion that she actually meant what she said.
“Bob wouldn’t have needed this medicine if it weren’t for you,” he said. That was irrational and he knew it, but he’d wanted to speak his mind to her since she’d shown up in their hotel room in Germany nine months ago.
“He would have needed this medicine regardless of whether or not he passed selection.” Asia gazed up at him. “Some of the team passed you for selection, but the analysts knew better - you’re too distrustful for your own good.”
“Why would I trust you? All you’ve done is endanger us and isolate us from everyone we know and love.” Scott knew he was starting to yell, that Dan would come running, but he didn’t care.
“Because that red dot on your chest isn’t from the laser pointer on my key chain,” Asia said, and stood up.
Scott could only stare as she jerked forward slightly, a red stain blossoming across the front of her t-shirt. She coughed, the sound wet, and when she drew her hand away from her mouth it was covered with blood.
“You - you’ve been shot!”
“I know,” she said. She drew a gun from the waistband of her jeans, glanced over her shoulder, and fired once. Scott heard the resulting thump of a corpse hitting the ground.
Scott ripped open the front door. “Dan! Dan, get the first aid kit!”
“This is a bit beyond first aid, but I’ll live,” Asia said. “If you can’t trust a woman who takes a bullet for you, you’ll never trust anyone, not even the woman you love.” She thrust a plastic bag at him. “Medicine for Bob. I’ll be back before it runs out.” She didn’t even stagger as she stepped off the front porch and began the trek down to her car.
(545 words)
Saturday, May 16, 2009
After the First
Commander Hayes walked back and forth in his office. Glancing at the clock on the wall, it read eleven forty-five. Commander Hayes office was in perfect military order; the only hint of anything personal was a photograph on his desk. It showed Hayes with a pretty woman. The figures in the photo were sitting on the grass, the trees overhead turning bright colors, Hayes and the woman were smiling at each other.
Hayes forced himself to stop pacing and sit at his desk, trying to get some paperwork done. He was not worried about David, at least not to much, but it was David's first solo mission. He looked at the clock again, only five minutes had passed.
Hayes thought back to his first mission. Surveillance, and execution of the objective. Of course it had been different back then. Weapons had not been as advanced, nor had the surveillance.
Hayes looked up at the solid knock on his office door.
"Come," Hayes called.
The door opened and David stepped in the room, snapping off a salute. Hayes looked his man up and down, noting the blank look in David's eyes. Hayes motioned for David to take a seat.
He reached into his desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "It looks like you could use this," Hayes said, pouring out a glass for David.
David grasped the glass tightly and knocked back the shot, wincing as it went down.
Hayes remained silent, waiting for David to speak.
Eventually David asked, "Does it get easier?"
Hayes considered his answer before speaking, "No, but eventually you learn to block it out.
Hayes forced himself to stop pacing and sit at his desk, trying to get some paperwork done. He was not worried about David, at least not to much, but it was David's first solo mission. He looked at the clock again, only five minutes had passed.
Hayes thought back to his first mission. Surveillance, and execution of the objective. Of course it had been different back then. Weapons had not been as advanced, nor had the surveillance.
Hayes looked up at the solid knock on his office door.
"Come," Hayes called.
The door opened and David stepped in the room, snapping off a salute. Hayes looked his man up and down, noting the blank look in David's eyes. Hayes motioned for David to take a seat.
He reached into his desk and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "It looks like you could use this," Hayes said, pouring out a glass for David.
David grasped the glass tightly and knocked back the shot, wincing as it went down.
Hayes remained silent, waiting for David to speak.
Eventually David asked, "Does it get easier?"
Hayes considered his answer before speaking, "No, but eventually you learn to block it out.
Friday, May 15, 2009
She Knows Things Sometimes
“Why are you still awake?”
“Still? It’s midnight. I got off work at eleven. It takes at least an hour for my brain to shut down.” Bob closed his eyes and tipped his head back.
Clay slid into the seat opposite him. “You shouldn’t risk yourself, going out there like that.”
“Risk myself how? No one’s going to look for the drummer of Summers Four at a paper factory.” Bob ran a hand over his shorn head and smiled tiredly. From just the right angle, he looked indistinguishable from his older brother. “You should cut your hair again and we could pull doubles.”
“Someone has to keep an eye on Scott and Dan,” Clay said.
“It’s too bad they were always the fan favorites, hm? No one ever cares about the rhythm section.” Bob reached up to rub his neck. It was sore from his being hunched over a machine all day. “Just three more months of this and we’ll be in the clear.”
“Why do you trust her so much?” Clay leaned forward and caught Bob’s gaze, searched. “She lied to all of us, and she lied to you, endangered us, stole our lives - “
“She’s the reason I’m still alive. She’s the reason all of us are alive, and as for her being a danger - I could have said no, let them do the memory wipe, but I chose to be part of something bigger than I am.” Bob met his brother’s gaze frankly. “I did this to us, not her. Don’t be afraid to blame me just because I’m sick.”
Clay shook his head. “Sometimes, when it’s you and me hunched over Scott’s old guitar, writing country songs like we did when we were kids, it’s like we’re children again, like we have that same wordless connection we always had, but then I realize I don’t know you at all. Ever since you told us about the leukemia, you’ve changed.”
“I changed before the leukemia,” Bob said.
“I’m guessing so, if you started working for these people when you were fourteen,” Clay said. “It’s just -”
“I knew about the leukemia before it happened,” Bob said.
Clay forgot everything he was going to say. “What?”
“I knew. Before it happened. You all thought it was weird that I never cried, but - I was ready for it. When I said I was ready, I meant it.”
“How could you know something like that before?” Clay demanded. “Was it the work they had you doing? Did you work around radiation, or-?”
“Asia knew. She just - knew. And she told me.” Bob studied his hands. “She knows things sometimes.”
Clay sat back. “What else does she know?”
“The day I’m going to die.”
(451 words)
“Still? It’s midnight. I got off work at eleven. It takes at least an hour for my brain to shut down.” Bob closed his eyes and tipped his head back.
Clay slid into the seat opposite him. “You shouldn’t risk yourself, going out there like that.”
“Risk myself how? No one’s going to look for the drummer of Summers Four at a paper factory.” Bob ran a hand over his shorn head and smiled tiredly. From just the right angle, he looked indistinguishable from his older brother. “You should cut your hair again and we could pull doubles.”
“Someone has to keep an eye on Scott and Dan,” Clay said.
“It’s too bad they were always the fan favorites, hm? No one ever cares about the rhythm section.” Bob reached up to rub his neck. It was sore from his being hunched over a machine all day. “Just three more months of this and we’ll be in the clear.”
“Why do you trust her so much?” Clay leaned forward and caught Bob’s gaze, searched. “She lied to all of us, and she lied to you, endangered us, stole our lives - “
“She’s the reason I’m still alive. She’s the reason all of us are alive, and as for her being a danger - I could have said no, let them do the memory wipe, but I chose to be part of something bigger than I am.” Bob met his brother’s gaze frankly. “I did this to us, not her. Don’t be afraid to blame me just because I’m sick.”
Clay shook his head. “Sometimes, when it’s you and me hunched over Scott’s old guitar, writing country songs like we did when we were kids, it’s like we’re children again, like we have that same wordless connection we always had, but then I realize I don’t know you at all. Ever since you told us about the leukemia, you’ve changed.”
“I changed before the leukemia,” Bob said.
“I’m guessing so, if you started working for these people when you were fourteen,” Clay said. “It’s just -”
“I knew about the leukemia before it happened,” Bob said.
Clay forgot everything he was going to say. “What?”
“I knew. Before it happened. You all thought it was weird that I never cried, but - I was ready for it. When I said I was ready, I meant it.”
“How could you know something like that before?” Clay demanded. “Was it the work they had you doing? Did you work around radiation, or-?”
“Asia knew. She just - knew. And she told me.” Bob studied his hands. “She knows things sometimes.”
Clay sat back. “What else does she know?”
“The day I’m going to die.”
(451 words)
Thursday, May 14, 2009
New Day
The world turned. Years flowing into each other; the seasons flickering past -winter, spring, summer, fall- in the blink of an eye.
Garain had not paid attention to the world in a long time, not in many ages, for there were none now alive that remembered her. Pale and insubstantial, Garain ghosted in the world. Unable to leave the world, she was the Goddess of Nature. The peoples of the world now attributed nature to science; and when they stopped believing in her, she became a shade of her former self. Still her work continued, rain and sun alike came by her will, but she paid scant attention to it.
Garain floated far above the world. Watching as one day turned into another.
Garain had not paid attention to the world in a long time, not in many ages, for there were none now alive that remembered her. Pale and insubstantial, Garain ghosted in the world. Unable to leave the world, she was the Goddess of Nature. The peoples of the world now attributed nature to science; and when they stopped believing in her, she became a shade of her former self. Still her work continued, rain and sun alike came by her will, but she paid scant attention to it.
Garain floated far above the world. Watching as one day turned into another.
Witching Hour Minus 300
“We’re moving out now? Are you insane?” Henry cast a look between the two brothers, but they were silent, unmoving, staring each other straight in the eye. Anyone else would have thought it was CT using his mind magic, but Henry knew it was something deeper, more intrinsic - they were twins, after all.
CT tore his gaze away from Robbie and said, “We’re moving out now. We have to draw the Chantry forces away from this place while J and the Technocrats find the Book.”
“It’s just now midnight - that’s three hours till the Witching Hour. That’s three hours until we’re at full potency,” Henry said. He sighed and tugged at the strap of his goggles. “Look, I’m just a minor matter mage - what could I possibly do that you two want my help this much?”
CT said, “That doesn’t matter. We’re going. Now. Rob - you’ll hold them off, right?”
Robbie nodded once, sharply, and summoned his spellbook off a nearby shelf. Henry shook his head in disbelief.
“Do you ever speak? I know CT’s the older one and twins have telepathy or whatever, but we might die tonight, and all you can do is look for one of your mouldy old spells?”
“Hey,” CT began, sharply.
But Robbie opened his mouth. “I can speak,” he said. “Unlike some, however, I keep my mouth shut unless I have something useful to say. Gushing sentimentalities to a man who knows half of my soul is of no use, for if he dies, I will follow soon after and will not suffer a lifetime of regret as you think I might. When he dies, our patterns will merge, and we will shine in the umbra for all to see.”
Anyone else might have been horrified by the coldness of Robbie’s words, but he was Verbena, and they were uncanny when it came to death and souls, more so than the Euthanatos at times. Henry was horrified not by Robbie’s words but by the way Robbie spoke, by the black ink that flashed between Robbie’s parted lips.
Someone had tattooed the Triangle of Solomon on his tongue.
Robbie must have realized Henry noticed, for he smiled, then, a full-on, bared-teeth smile that was too lifeless and vicious to be a real smile. “Now leave,” he said, “and make sure the Chantry doesn’t come near here, or you’ll regret it. For eternity.” Then, with a single, casual motion, he slashed open his own wrist.
(412 words)
CT tore his gaze away from Robbie and said, “We’re moving out now. We have to draw the Chantry forces away from this place while J and the Technocrats find the Book.”
“It’s just now midnight - that’s three hours till the Witching Hour. That’s three hours until we’re at full potency,” Henry said. He sighed and tugged at the strap of his goggles. “Look, I’m just a minor matter mage - what could I possibly do that you two want my help this much?”
CT said, “That doesn’t matter. We’re going. Now. Rob - you’ll hold them off, right?”
Robbie nodded once, sharply, and summoned his spellbook off a nearby shelf. Henry shook his head in disbelief.
“Do you ever speak? I know CT’s the older one and twins have telepathy or whatever, but we might die tonight, and all you can do is look for one of your mouldy old spells?”
“Hey,” CT began, sharply.
But Robbie opened his mouth. “I can speak,” he said. “Unlike some, however, I keep my mouth shut unless I have something useful to say. Gushing sentimentalities to a man who knows half of my soul is of no use, for if he dies, I will follow soon after and will not suffer a lifetime of regret as you think I might. When he dies, our patterns will merge, and we will shine in the umbra for all to see.”
Anyone else might have been horrified by the coldness of Robbie’s words, but he was Verbena, and they were uncanny when it came to death and souls, more so than the Euthanatos at times. Henry was horrified not by Robbie’s words but by the way Robbie spoke, by the black ink that flashed between Robbie’s parted lips.
Someone had tattooed the Triangle of Solomon on his tongue.
Robbie must have realized Henry noticed, for he smiled, then, a full-on, bared-teeth smile that was too lifeless and vicious to be a real smile. “Now leave,” he said, “and make sure the Chantry doesn’t come near here, or you’ll regret it. For eternity.” Then, with a single, casual motion, he slashed open his own wrist.
(412 words)
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Vigil
The room was silent except for the quiet beeping of medical machines. The clock on the wall read past midnight. Joseph leaned back in the chair beside the bed, rubbing his eyes. They felt gritty from lack of sleep; he was sure they didn't look any better than they felt. Yawning, Joe shifted in the narrow hospital chair, his clothes felt stiff from several days of wear. He was sure that they could get up and walk away on their own.
Joe shook his head briskly and stood up. If he didn't get moving he would fall asleep. That was something he would not risk. Joe looked at the hospital bed. Tubes and hoses wound around the body like a cocoon; a constant, rhythmic hissing assuring Joe that his brother was still breathing.
Joe approached the side of the bed and gently squeezed the hand lying on the sheets.
"Come on Alec, wake up..."
Joe turned at a rustling behind him. A nurse coming to check on Alec's vitals. She smiled, "haven't you had any sleep?"
"No. He might wake up," Joe said, moving out of her way.
A smile ghosted over her face, but it was just to hide the truth. She knew that Alec would not make it, but it was not her place to quash hope. Any hope. His vitals were low, his brain activity nearly nonexistent. It wold not be long. Only the machines were keeping him alive now.
"Have you been talking to him? Sometimes it helps," Jen offered. She finished checking his tubes and fluids.
"Yes," Joe said sadly. He looked up at the nurse, "Jen, is there any hope? Please tell me." Tears stood in his eyes, "is he even still here? Please, tell me the truth."
Jen bit her lip, her breath catching in her throat at the emotion she could see and hear. She hesitated to say anything. Seeing the pleading in Joe's eyes, she opened her mouth; but nothing came out. The carefully rehearsed cheerfulness, the constant stream of hope that she was always required and willing to give was stopped up in her throat.
Jen swallowed, "No. He's not here anymore.
Joe squeezed his eyes shut, nodding once.
Jen was not sure what to do to comfort the young man. She took half a step towards him and hesitated.
Joe turned and wrapped his long arms around Jen, tears falling from his eyes, his body shaking with silent sobs.
Jen patted him on the back, muttering nonsense words, trying comfort the grieving boy. She brushed his hair back from his face, his breathing slowly normalizing.
"Thank you, Jen, Thank you for telling me the truth. I would like to say goodbye to Alec," Joe finally said.
Jen nodded and backed out the door, her last view of the young man was him leaning over his brother, kissing him goodbye.
"Goodbye, Alec, my brother," Joe whispered, a single tear falling.
Joe shook his head briskly and stood up. If he didn't get moving he would fall asleep. That was something he would not risk. Joe looked at the hospital bed. Tubes and hoses wound around the body like a cocoon; a constant, rhythmic hissing assuring Joe that his brother was still breathing.
Joe approached the side of the bed and gently squeezed the hand lying on the sheets.
"Come on Alec, wake up..."
Joe turned at a rustling behind him. A nurse coming to check on Alec's vitals. She smiled, "haven't you had any sleep?"
"No. He might wake up," Joe said, moving out of her way.
A smile ghosted over her face, but it was just to hide the truth. She knew that Alec would not make it, but it was not her place to quash hope. Any hope. His vitals were low, his brain activity nearly nonexistent. It wold not be long. Only the machines were keeping him alive now.
"Have you been talking to him? Sometimes it helps," Jen offered. She finished checking his tubes and fluids.
"Yes," Joe said sadly. He looked up at the nurse, "Jen, is there any hope? Please tell me." Tears stood in his eyes, "is he even still here? Please, tell me the truth."
Jen bit her lip, her breath catching in her throat at the emotion she could see and hear. She hesitated to say anything. Seeing the pleading in Joe's eyes, she opened her mouth; but nothing came out. The carefully rehearsed cheerfulness, the constant stream of hope that she was always required and willing to give was stopped up in her throat.
Jen swallowed, "No. He's not here anymore.
Joe squeezed his eyes shut, nodding once.
Jen was not sure what to do to comfort the young man. She took half a step towards him and hesitated.
Joe turned and wrapped his long arms around Jen, tears falling from his eyes, his body shaking with silent sobs.
Jen patted him on the back, muttering nonsense words, trying comfort the grieving boy. She brushed his hair back from his face, his breathing slowly normalizing.
"Thank you, Jen, Thank you for telling me the truth. I would like to say goodbye to Alec," Joe finally said.
Jen nodded and backed out the door, her last view of the young man was him leaning over his brother, kissing him goodbye.
"Goodbye, Alec, my brother," Joe whispered, a single tear falling.
Barely After Midnight
Dan and Scott froze like deer in headlights.
“Who is it?” Bob called out, trying to sound as normal as possible. “We don’t have to be at the airport until three.”
A woman replied, “You won’t be going to the airport tonight, Mr. Summers.”
And then Clay said, “Carolyn?”
There was a buzz and whir, and the door swung open. The girl who stood in the doorway was Carolyn. She hadn’t aged a day, still looked a spry seventeen, but was dressed from head to toe in black and looked as though she were armed to the teeth.
Clay couldn’t begin to guess how she got past the concierge. She stepped into the room and pushed the door closed.
“Carolyn was a temporary identity while we assessed one of you for fitness as an agent,” she said, though she sounded distracted.
“The war’s begun,” Bob said. He sounded confused. “Shouldn’t you be back in Mongolia with the rest of your sector -?”
“My lieutenants are capable strategists and can handle a few stray bombs without me.” To Bob’s brothers, she said, “You can call me Asia. If you want to live through the next twenty-four hours, do everything I say.”
Bob shook his head. “I don’t understand - I’m just a civilian connection. You can’t possibly find me so useful that you’d step away from the main battlefield just to come get me.”
Asia smiled, though the expression was faint. “I promised each of my agents one civilian rescue before this started. What’s the point of winning a war if we’re the only ones left after?”
“And you chose me? But Josh -”
“Isn’t a civilian and gets one rescue of his own. Now hurry - Keith and Angel can only keep Hagalaz busy for so long.” Asia turned to Scott. “Get dressed. All of you. Which one of you is competent with a firearm?”
“Lady, we’re musicians,” Scott said.
“Who can use a firearm besides Bob?”
Scott blinked. He wasn’t used to being dismissed like that. “Hey -”
“I’m all right with a Glock nine millimeter,” Dan said.
Clay and Scott stared at him.
Dan shrugged uncomfortably and said, “Joey taught me.”
“Who’s Joey?” Scott asked.
Clay reached for a t-shirt and tugged it on. “That doesn’t matter right now, Scott. What matters is getting the hell out of here. Right, Carolyn?” Clay studied her face and wondered how he had ever thought she was just a teenaged girl.
“Right.” She looked, for one second, sad at being called Carolyn, but then she was barking orders, telling them what to pack and what to leave. She handed Dan a handgun and asked, “You still keeping up with your karate?”
“I’m probably the most competent out of the four of us. Except maybe Bob.” Dan cast a look at his elder brother and wondered how much he didn’t know about the quietest of them all. Maybe that’s why he’d been chosen for this...whatever.
Clay had his bag packed he fastest and was pulling on his shoes when the first shot was fired. There was a faint ping and a shattering of glass and then he was on the floor, Asia’s foot on his chest. Blood dripped from a wound on her arm, but she didn’t even seem to feel it.
“Get up and let’s go. I’ll cover your rear. Bob, you’ll have to take point.”
Clay lay there a moment longer, staring at his watch. It was barely after midnight.
“Who is it?” Bob called out, trying to sound as normal as possible. “We don’t have to be at the airport until three.”
A woman replied, “You won’t be going to the airport tonight, Mr. Summers.”
And then Clay said, “Carolyn?”
There was a buzz and whir, and the door swung open. The girl who stood in the doorway was Carolyn. She hadn’t aged a day, still looked a spry seventeen, but was dressed from head to toe in black and looked as though she were armed to the teeth.
Clay couldn’t begin to guess how she got past the concierge. She stepped into the room and pushed the door closed.
“Carolyn was a temporary identity while we assessed one of you for fitness as an agent,” she said, though she sounded distracted.
“The war’s begun,” Bob said. He sounded confused. “Shouldn’t you be back in Mongolia with the rest of your sector -?”
“My lieutenants are capable strategists and can handle a few stray bombs without me.” To Bob’s brothers, she said, “You can call me Asia. If you want to live through the next twenty-four hours, do everything I say.”
Bob shook his head. “I don’t understand - I’m just a civilian connection. You can’t possibly find me so useful that you’d step away from the main battlefield just to come get me.”
Asia smiled, though the expression was faint. “I promised each of my agents one civilian rescue before this started. What’s the point of winning a war if we’re the only ones left after?”
“And you chose me? But Josh -”
“Isn’t a civilian and gets one rescue of his own. Now hurry - Keith and Angel can only keep Hagalaz busy for so long.” Asia turned to Scott. “Get dressed. All of you. Which one of you is competent with a firearm?”
“Lady, we’re musicians,” Scott said.
“Who can use a firearm besides Bob?”
Scott blinked. He wasn’t used to being dismissed like that. “Hey -”
“I’m all right with a Glock nine millimeter,” Dan said.
Clay and Scott stared at him.
Dan shrugged uncomfortably and said, “Joey taught me.”
“Who’s Joey?” Scott asked.
Clay reached for a t-shirt and tugged it on. “That doesn’t matter right now, Scott. What matters is getting the hell out of here. Right, Carolyn?” Clay studied her face and wondered how he had ever thought she was just a teenaged girl.
“Right.” She looked, for one second, sad at being called Carolyn, but then she was barking orders, telling them what to pack and what to leave. She handed Dan a handgun and asked, “You still keeping up with your karate?”
“I’m probably the most competent out of the four of us. Except maybe Bob.” Dan cast a look at his elder brother and wondered how much he didn’t know about the quietest of them all. Maybe that’s why he’d been chosen for this...whatever.
Clay had his bag packed he fastest and was pulling on his shoes when the first shot was fired. There was a faint ping and a shattering of glass and then he was on the floor, Asia’s foot on his chest. Blood dripped from a wound on her arm, but she didn’t even seem to feel it.
“Get up and let’s go. I’ll cover your rear. Bob, you’ll have to take point.”
Clay lay there a moment longer, staring at his watch. It was barely after midnight.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Evening Run
Rain misted out of the dark sky. The cool dampness of the night air keeping his body from overheating. Trees grew wild along the path.
Steve breathed evenly as he ran though the night. He placed his fingers against his throat and looked at his watch as he took his pulse. 160. It was almost midnight.
He preferred to run at night; it was quiet and there was no one around. The rhythm of his pounding feet hypnotic as the miles rolled past. Body moving in perfect harmony.
Steve slowed to a stop near his home, breathing the heavily moist air. He braced himself against a tree, stretching his legs. Steve drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Come new day..."
Steve breathed evenly as he ran though the night. He placed his fingers against his throat and looked at his watch as he took his pulse. 160. It was almost midnight.
He preferred to run at night; it was quiet and there was no one around. The rhythm of his pounding feet hypnotic as the miles rolled past. Body moving in perfect harmony.
Steve slowed to a stop near his home, breathing the heavily moist air. He braced himself against a tree, stretching his legs. Steve drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
"Come new day..."
Only Midnight
“Hey, check this out.” Dan gestured to the television screen.
Clay, who’d been tying his shoelaces, turned to see what his brother was looking at. “What is it?”
“On the news - there’s some kind of terrorist organization that set off a bomb in the desert or something,” Dan said. “The terror alert’s on high and the Department of Homeland Security and Interpol and everyone else has gone nuts.”
Scott frowned. “Are they going to cancel our flight home?”
Bob stepped out of the bathroom. He still had a towel around his waist and a razor in one hand, but he ignored both as he watched the screen. The anchorman was grim-faced and deep-voiced, and then pictures of suspected terrorists flashed across the screen.
“This is a joke, right?” Clay asked. “Aren’t those two guys in boybands or something?”
Bob felt his blood run cold when a picture of Hagalaz appeared in the corner of the screen. He used the edge of his towel to scrub off the last of the shaving cream, and then he said,
“We have to go. Now.”
“What? But it’s only midnight. We don’t even have to be at the airport until three,” Dave said. They’d learned long ago, when in Europe where the most fans were, that red-eye flights were the safest.
Bob was tugging on clothes and throwing spare clothes, a water bottle, emergency supplies into his duffel bag. “We have to get out of here, and we have to go now.”
Scott was on his feet. “What the hell are you saying, Bob? It’s just the government being paranoid -” He stopped short when Bob reached under his bed and drew out a handgun.
Bob checked the clip, then felt along the edge of the bed for his spare clips. He shoved the gun into his waistband, the clips into his pockets, and began loading more emergency supplies in his duffel bag.
“Bob,” Clay said, voice careful and even, “when did you start carrying a gun?”
Bob met his brother’s gaze, willing him to understand the truth of what he was about say. “I’ve been carrying a gun since I was fourteen. Those terrorists you saw on the television - they’re very real, and if the government has spotted explosions in the desert, that means a war has begun, and both sides are going to start picking off each other’s numbers.”
It was Dan who believed first. “Are you saying that you’re a terrorist?”
“No. I’m just an informer. If we hadn’t been brothers and I weren’t sick, they might have trained me, but as it is, I’m in danger, and so are the rest of you by association. And we have to leave. Now.” Bob tugged on his shoes and wished he’d thought to pack combat boots. He’d learnt a lot from Asia, but now he wished he’d learned more.
Scott shook his head and threw his hands up. “What you’re saying is completely insane. Let me get Dad on the phone and -”
“That news story started three minutes ago,” Bob said. “We have another ninety seconds before one of their agents knocks on the door.” He drew his gun and took aim for the door. “Get moving. All of you - warm clothes and good running shoes. We might have to sleep under the stars.”
Clay started moving first.
And then someone knocked on the door.
(565 words)
Clay, who’d been tying his shoelaces, turned to see what his brother was looking at. “What is it?”
“On the news - there’s some kind of terrorist organization that set off a bomb in the desert or something,” Dan said. “The terror alert’s on high and the Department of Homeland Security and Interpol and everyone else has gone nuts.”
Scott frowned. “Are they going to cancel our flight home?”
Bob stepped out of the bathroom. He still had a towel around his waist and a razor in one hand, but he ignored both as he watched the screen. The anchorman was grim-faced and deep-voiced, and then pictures of suspected terrorists flashed across the screen.
“This is a joke, right?” Clay asked. “Aren’t those two guys in boybands or something?”
Bob felt his blood run cold when a picture of Hagalaz appeared in the corner of the screen. He used the edge of his towel to scrub off the last of the shaving cream, and then he said,
“We have to go. Now.”
“What? But it’s only midnight. We don’t even have to be at the airport until three,” Dave said. They’d learned long ago, when in Europe where the most fans were, that red-eye flights were the safest.
Bob was tugging on clothes and throwing spare clothes, a water bottle, emergency supplies into his duffel bag. “We have to get out of here, and we have to go now.”
Scott was on his feet. “What the hell are you saying, Bob? It’s just the government being paranoid -” He stopped short when Bob reached under his bed and drew out a handgun.
Bob checked the clip, then felt along the edge of the bed for his spare clips. He shoved the gun into his waistband, the clips into his pockets, and began loading more emergency supplies in his duffel bag.
“Bob,” Clay said, voice careful and even, “when did you start carrying a gun?”
Bob met his brother’s gaze, willing him to understand the truth of what he was about say. “I’ve been carrying a gun since I was fourteen. Those terrorists you saw on the television - they’re very real, and if the government has spotted explosions in the desert, that means a war has begun, and both sides are going to start picking off each other’s numbers.”
It was Dan who believed first. “Are you saying that you’re a terrorist?”
“No. I’m just an informer. If we hadn’t been brothers and I weren’t sick, they might have trained me, but as it is, I’m in danger, and so are the rest of you by association. And we have to leave. Now.” Bob tugged on his shoes and wished he’d thought to pack combat boots. He’d learnt a lot from Asia, but now he wished he’d learned more.
Scott shook his head and threw his hands up. “What you’re saying is completely insane. Let me get Dad on the phone and -”
“That news story started three minutes ago,” Bob said. “We have another ninety seconds before one of their agents knocks on the door.” He drew his gun and took aim for the door. “Get moving. All of you - warm clothes and good running shoes. We might have to sleep under the stars.”
Clay started moving first.
And then someone knocked on the door.
(565 words)
Monday, May 11, 2009
Caught
"Shh, you'll wake them up," Mark hissed in the dark.
"You will if you don't shut up." Brian countered.
The twins crept through the darkened corridor of the military base. Barrack doors were on either side of the hall. The dim red emergency lights were enough to light the way. They were out of bed way past curfew. It was almost midnight.
"Why did I let you talk me into this Brian?" Mark asked as he stumbled in the dark.
"I didn't talk you into anything. I know you wanted to also. You just needed a push in the right direction," Brian whispered loftily.
"If we get caught I'm blaming you." Mark warned as they drew near their destination.
"Fine, fine, whatever. All my fault. Forced you at gunpoint." Brian rolled his eyes at his brother.
"Here it is," Brian said, edging open a door. Stainless steel reflected back the ambient light from the hall. It glistened off of sharp edges and glass and chrome.
Brian pulled open a door and retrieved their stash, sinking to the floor beside his brother.
"Do you have it?" Brian asked
"Of course," Mark said, pulling out two bits of metal.
The two officers froze as the lights were flicked on, nearly blinding them as the light bounced from all directions. In the doorway stood Major Cole. Brian tried to hide their contraband behind them, but at a look from Major Cole, they knew that he knew.
"Well, I see we have a bit of a dilemma," David said as he moved towards them. "Do I ignore what you are doing or do I call you on it."
"You see Major, it was like this..." Brian started. David held up a hand to silence him.
David held out his hand for the metal object in Brian's hand. Reluctantly Brian handed it over. David considered the metal for a few seconds before handing it back.
"Dig in." David said. "And I'll be back with a spoon too. Did you know that Chocolate is my favorite ice cream?"
"You will if you don't shut up." Brian countered.
The twins crept through the darkened corridor of the military base. Barrack doors were on either side of the hall. The dim red emergency lights were enough to light the way. They were out of bed way past curfew. It was almost midnight.
"Why did I let you talk me into this Brian?" Mark asked as he stumbled in the dark.
"I didn't talk you into anything. I know you wanted to also. You just needed a push in the right direction," Brian whispered loftily.
"If we get caught I'm blaming you." Mark warned as they drew near their destination.
"Fine, fine, whatever. All my fault. Forced you at gunpoint." Brian rolled his eyes at his brother.
"Here it is," Brian said, edging open a door. Stainless steel reflected back the ambient light from the hall. It glistened off of sharp edges and glass and chrome.
Brian pulled open a door and retrieved their stash, sinking to the floor beside his brother.
"Do you have it?" Brian asked
"Of course," Mark said, pulling out two bits of metal.
The two officers froze as the lights were flicked on, nearly blinding them as the light bounced from all directions. In the doorway stood Major Cole. Brian tried to hide their contraband behind them, but at a look from Major Cole, they knew that he knew.
"Well, I see we have a bit of a dilemma," David said as he moved towards them. "Do I ignore what you are doing or do I call you on it."
"You see Major, it was like this..." Brian started. David held up a hand to silence him.
David held out his hand for the metal object in Brian's hand. Reluctantly Brian handed it over. David considered the metal for a few seconds before handing it back.
"Dig in." David said. "And I'll be back with a spoon too. Did you know that Chocolate is my favorite ice cream?"
Real Boys
“I was watching you today out there on the range with some of the other boys,” Sgt. Kennesaw said.
Christian lifted his head from where he’d been resting his chin on his knees and peered at the soldier. “Pardon?” It was almost midnight by his estimation. Nick and the others were probably asleep. He should have been asleep, too, but when he had a chance to be alone, he took it.
“When the other boys were showing your little friends how to work their way around an assault rifle.” Kennesaw’s dark gaze bored into Christian, but Christian had seen scarier men, had known more forceful drill sergeants.
“Kevin’s pretty handy with a gun,” Christian said. “We used to shoot his daddy’s rifle when he was a kid.”
“I’ve no doubt your country cousin knows his way around a Kentucky rifle,” Kennesaw said, “but I was watching you, too. And most boyband boys wouldn’t know their way around an M16 to save their lives. You handled that thing better than most of my men do.”
“I know my way around a Kentucky rifle, too,” Christian said. He kept his voice low, used Brian’s soft drawl. “Saw one of my cousins blow his own foot off because he hadn’t paid attention during my uncle’s gun safety lesson. Can never be too cautious with one of those things.”
Kennesaw shook his head. “I saw you drop your shots out there, too.”
Christian arched one eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t catch your meaning. Sometimes Yank slang still gets the better of me.”
“You could probably hit a dime from two-hundred yards away, but you let your shots spray wide.” Kennesaw leaned closer, lowered his voice to a growl. “You’re not a real boyband boy, are you?”
“I don’t know that any of us are real, Sergeant.” Christian tipped his head back and gazed up at the stars.
“I never told you my rank. I didn’t know boyband boys could read chevrons in the dark,” Kennesaw said.
Christian searched for the constellation Draco, idly wondering what one of his teammates would do. Gabriel would wipe the memory, but that wasn’t an option for him. Angel would get the man so drunk he wouldn’t remember a thing. Tobias would have spun an elaborate lie - perhaps witness protection? And Keith. Keith always did like fire a little too much.
“If I’m as good at all this as you think I am, do you really think you could stop me from doing whatever it is you think I might do?” he asked finally.
“Are you here to do anything, kid?”
“I’m here to sing, sir. And dance. Be a little patriotic for my homeland.”
“Where did you learn to do what you do?”
“The same place I learned to sing and dance.” Christian hauled himself to his feet.
“Why would they teach that sort of thing to you boys?”
Christian headed back toward the tent he was sharing with Dwayne and AJ. “Someone’s gotta watch their backs. You never know what screaming teenage girls can do.” But it wouldn’t be the screaming teenage girls he’d deal with tomorrow night. “Good night, sergeant.”
Quislai didn’t really need to sleep, either.
Christian lifted his head from where he’d been resting his chin on his knees and peered at the soldier. “Pardon?” It was almost midnight by his estimation. Nick and the others were probably asleep. He should have been asleep, too, but when he had a chance to be alone, he took it.
“When the other boys were showing your little friends how to work their way around an assault rifle.” Kennesaw’s dark gaze bored into Christian, but Christian had seen scarier men, had known more forceful drill sergeants.
“Kevin’s pretty handy with a gun,” Christian said. “We used to shoot his daddy’s rifle when he was a kid.”
“I’ve no doubt your country cousin knows his way around a Kentucky rifle,” Kennesaw said, “but I was watching you, too. And most boyband boys wouldn’t know their way around an M16 to save their lives. You handled that thing better than most of my men do.”
“I know my way around a Kentucky rifle, too,” Christian said. He kept his voice low, used Brian’s soft drawl. “Saw one of my cousins blow his own foot off because he hadn’t paid attention during my uncle’s gun safety lesson. Can never be too cautious with one of those things.”
Kennesaw shook his head. “I saw you drop your shots out there, too.”
Christian arched one eyebrow. “I’m afraid I don’t catch your meaning. Sometimes Yank slang still gets the better of me.”
“You could probably hit a dime from two-hundred yards away, but you let your shots spray wide.” Kennesaw leaned closer, lowered his voice to a growl. “You’re not a real boyband boy, are you?”
“I don’t know that any of us are real, Sergeant.” Christian tipped his head back and gazed up at the stars.
“I never told you my rank. I didn’t know boyband boys could read chevrons in the dark,” Kennesaw said.
Christian searched for the constellation Draco, idly wondering what one of his teammates would do. Gabriel would wipe the memory, but that wasn’t an option for him. Angel would get the man so drunk he wouldn’t remember a thing. Tobias would have spun an elaborate lie - perhaps witness protection? And Keith. Keith always did like fire a little too much.
“If I’m as good at all this as you think I am, do you really think you could stop me from doing whatever it is you think I might do?” he asked finally.
“Are you here to do anything, kid?”
“I’m here to sing, sir. And dance. Be a little patriotic for my homeland.”
“Where did you learn to do what you do?”
“The same place I learned to sing and dance.” Christian hauled himself to his feet.
“Why would they teach that sort of thing to you boys?”
Christian headed back toward the tent he was sharing with Dwayne and AJ. “Someone’s gotta watch their backs. You never know what screaming teenage girls can do.” But it wouldn’t be the screaming teenage girls he’d deal with tomorrow night. “Good night, sergeant.”
Quislai didn’t really need to sleep, either.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Progression
David tried to ignore the incessant tapping on his window, squeezing his eyes closed and rolling towards the wall. Cracking one bleary eye, David squinted at his digital clock on the table next to his bed. The red numbers told him it was five after midnight. Rubbing his eyes David stumbled across the floor to the window, pulling up the blinds and opening the window wide. He could barely make out the person below his room; there was no moon to brighten the night. The scent of freesia and lilac drifted up on a puff of breeze. Arianna.
"Ari, what are you doing?" David's words were still slightly slurred from sleep.
"Come down. I want to show you something," Arianna said, whispering in the dark.
"Ari, it's midnight," David said.
"I know that. Just come down," Arianna said; laughter in her barely audible voice.
"Alright, let me get dressed," David said, pulling his head back in the window.
"No David, now," Arianna said, "just put on your shoes."
"Okay," David's voice drifted through the window.
David opened his closet and pulled out a pair of old shoes and slipped his feet into them. Being careful not to wake his Uncle and Aunt, he eased open his door and crept down the hall to the stairs. David was sure to skip the seventh stair from the top.
Arianna was waiting by her car when David stepped out of the front door.
"Alright Ari, what is it that you want to show me?" David asked, shivering slightly in the breeze.
"It's not here, come on, I'll show you," Arianna said as she opened her door and slid behind he wheel.
David shrugged and slid into the car beside her. "Where are we going?" David asked.
"It's a surprise." Arianna said, smiling in the dim glow of the dashboard.
"Do I get a hint or should I close my eyes," David teased, now fully awake.
"No hint," Arianna said, "and no don't close your eyes, you'll fall asleep again."
They drove in silence for a while, passing out of the city limits and into the country. The blackness grew deeper as the left the city behind. After another twenty minutes Arianna pulled off the main road and onto a narrow dirt path. The car bounced and rattled over the rough road. Eventually Arianna pulled the car over and cut the engine.
David followed Arianna out of the car and through thick, tall grass. Arianna carried a flashlight, it's beam illuminating a short distance ahead. After a short walk David found himself standing beside a telescope. Confused he looked at Arianna.
"Tonight is the night that we are able to see Halley's comet the clearest." Arianna motioned to the telescope. She also pointed to the sky above them. David could see a bright comet crossing the sky.
Grinning, he stepped up to the telescope and looked through the eye piece. The comet came into focus, large and beautiful.
"Wow."
Arianna came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm glad you like it."
"Like it. It's amazing. I can't believe I've never looked at one before." David turned and smiled at Arianna. "Thank you."
"Your welcome David," Arianna said, leaning over and kissing him."
After Arianna had watched the comet, David pulled her over to the grass and lay down with her, watching the stars and the progression of the comet.
They awoke as the sun was cresting the horizon.
"Ari, what are you doing?" David's words were still slightly slurred from sleep.
"Come down. I want to show you something," Arianna said, whispering in the dark.
"Ari, it's midnight," David said.
"I know that. Just come down," Arianna said; laughter in her barely audible voice.
"Alright, let me get dressed," David said, pulling his head back in the window.
"No David, now," Arianna said, "just put on your shoes."
"Okay," David's voice drifted through the window.
David opened his closet and pulled out a pair of old shoes and slipped his feet into them. Being careful not to wake his Uncle and Aunt, he eased open his door and crept down the hall to the stairs. David was sure to skip the seventh stair from the top.
Arianna was waiting by her car when David stepped out of the front door.
"Alright Ari, what is it that you want to show me?" David asked, shivering slightly in the breeze.
"It's not here, come on, I'll show you," Arianna said as she opened her door and slid behind he wheel.
David shrugged and slid into the car beside her. "Where are we going?" David asked.
"It's a surprise." Arianna said, smiling in the dim glow of the dashboard.
"Do I get a hint or should I close my eyes," David teased, now fully awake.
"No hint," Arianna said, "and no don't close your eyes, you'll fall asleep again."
They drove in silence for a while, passing out of the city limits and into the country. The blackness grew deeper as the left the city behind. After another twenty minutes Arianna pulled off the main road and onto a narrow dirt path. The car bounced and rattled over the rough road. Eventually Arianna pulled the car over and cut the engine.
David followed Arianna out of the car and through thick, tall grass. Arianna carried a flashlight, it's beam illuminating a short distance ahead. After a short walk David found himself standing beside a telescope. Confused he looked at Arianna.
"Tonight is the night that we are able to see Halley's comet the clearest." Arianna motioned to the telescope. She also pointed to the sky above them. David could see a bright comet crossing the sky.
Grinning, he stepped up to the telescope and looked through the eye piece. The comet came into focus, large and beautiful.
"Wow."
Arianna came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm glad you like it."
"Like it. It's amazing. I can't believe I've never looked at one before." David turned and smiled at Arianna. "Thank you."
"Your welcome David," Arianna said, leaning over and kissing him."
After Arianna had watched the comet, David pulled her over to the grass and lay down with her, watching the stars and the progression of the comet.
They awoke as the sun was cresting the horizon.
Breaking Curfew
“Where have you been?” Scott’s voice was low, hostile.
Bob stood just inside the hotel room, backlit, a black silhouette. “Out.”
“Without security?”
“We’re in America. We don’t need security.”
“It’s midnight. We have to be at the studio in four hours. You’re going to look like an insomniac and Frank will notice. I won’t be defending you if he lays into you.” Scott crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to loom over Bob. It was difficult to loom over someone who looked like he just didn’t care.
Bob stepped forward so the moonlight caught his face, and he raised his eyebrows. “When was the last time you defended me when he laid into me anyway? I can take care of myself. Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you’re the only one who’s competent.” He shrugged off his jacket and laid it across the back of one of the chairs, toed off his sneakers.
“Bob, you’re sick.”
“I know that.”
“You can’t go out alone at night when you’re sick.”
“I’m sick, Scott, not weak.” Bob skimmed down to his boxers and crawled into bed next to Clay, who was snoring like a freight train. He and Dan slept the deepest, and neither of them had been awakened by the argument.
Scott shook his head. “I don’t know you anymore.” He climbed back into bed next to Dan and tugged the covers up, rolling so his back was to Bob.
Bob sighed and closed his eyes. He didn’t know who he was anymore either.
(257 words)
Bob stood just inside the hotel room, backlit, a black silhouette. “Out.”
“Without security?”
“We’re in America. We don’t need security.”
“It’s midnight. We have to be at the studio in four hours. You’re going to look like an insomniac and Frank will notice. I won’t be defending you if he lays into you.” Scott crossed his arms over his chest and attempted to loom over Bob. It was difficult to loom over someone who looked like he just didn’t care.
Bob stepped forward so the moonlight caught his face, and he raised his eyebrows. “When was the last time you defended me when he laid into me anyway? I can take care of myself. Just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you’re the only one who’s competent.” He shrugged off his jacket and laid it across the back of one of the chairs, toed off his sneakers.
“Bob, you’re sick.”
“I know that.”
“You can’t go out alone at night when you’re sick.”
“I’m sick, Scott, not weak.” Bob skimmed down to his boxers and crawled into bed next to Clay, who was snoring like a freight train. He and Dan slept the deepest, and neither of them had been awakened by the argument.
Scott shook his head. “I don’t know you anymore.” He climbed back into bed next to Dan and tugged the covers up, rolling so his back was to Bob.
Bob sighed and closed his eyes. He didn’t know who he was anymore either.
(257 words)
Rules v1.4
All right, another update to the rules. When a challenge is issued and there are no takers, it will run for the week-long period anyway before a new challenge is issued. No need to go wasting good challenges. Also, if one writer is down, the other writer can and should, if at all possible, keep up with the challenge anyway. Technically no man gets left behind, but really, if one is down and the other is capable of writing, we should have someone minding the store, as it were.
On you marks, get set...write!
On you marks, get set...write!
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