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Tears in Hell (UPDATED OCTOBER 11th)
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<blockquote data-quote="Puppy Kicker" data-source="post: 2096932" data-attributes="member: 20284"><p><strong>E-mail Plans</strong></p><p></p><p><em>11:00 PM Sunday, July 18th</em></p><p><em>Motel 6, Newport News, Virginia</em></p><p></p><p>Quin was passed out on the floor of the Motel 6 amid a sea of empty Chinese food boxes. Meadow and Lisa played Poker on one of the beds. Rebecca sat at the laptop checking her e-mail. The response she’d been waiting for had arrived.</p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">FROM: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Rebecca,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Grammy Bertha says hi. She says her favorite </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">breakfast was grits, but that you probably </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">wouldn’t know that. She says she always </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">pretended what you made for her was her </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">favorite, and that varied. She says she’s </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">sorry for the “fib” but that you’ll understand.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">John</span></p><p></p><p>“Yeah, that sounds like Grammy.” Rebecca began to type furiously, and finally clicked SEND.</p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">TO: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">FROM: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">John,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">The bear is an ancient artifact, presumably </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Mayan. It’s not usual for that area, however. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Apparently it aids in communicating with the </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">dead. A bunch of people are looking for it – </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">and killing people. That’s all I know right </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">now. We’re turning the bear over to a thug </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">tomorrow morning in exchange for a little girl </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">the thug was thinking of killing. What do you </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">think? Thanks again.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Rebecca</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">P.S. Did you send the other info (signed) yet? </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Thanks!</span></p><p></p><p>She moved on to the next message in her inbox then, after carefully saving the message from John Edward in its very own folder. As the next message popped onto her screen she caught her breath. “Oh my…”</p><p></p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">FROM: <a href="mailto:BEARHUNTER443@hotmail.com">BEARHUNTER443@hotmail.com</a></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">We need to meet. Mr. Gallivan needs to talk to you. Meet us at the McDonalds tomorrow at 10 AM.</span></p><p></p><p></p><p>“Umm.. Meadow.” Meadow looked up from her poker game. “Martin wants to meet us tomorrow.”</p><p></p><p>“Professor Gallivan? How do you know?” Rebecca showed her the e-mail. Meadow scratched her head, took a deep breath. “Do you think we can trust this bearhunter, er, Wendy Johnson?”</p><p></p><p>Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know if we can trust her. But I don’t know if we have a choice.” Rebecca glanced over at Quin’s dozing form. “Let’s wake up sleepy head there and figure out what we’re doing.”</p><p></p><p>Her e-mail dinged with a new message notification just as she was about to shut down the laptop.</p><p></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu> </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">FROM: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Rebecca,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">I’m sorry to hear about the trouble you’re </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">having with the thug. Do what you feel you </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">need to do. I didn’t mail the letter yet. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">For this I apologize. I will make it up to </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">you by giving it to you in person this </span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Thursday. Let’s meet at the airport. I’ll</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">Be on UA flight 440, arriving at 11:25.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'"></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Courier New'">John</span></p><p></p><p></p><p>Rebecca quickly sent her eagerly affirmative reply to the e-mail and then she, Meadow and Quin discussed their plans for the next day. Quin filled Armani and Devin in when they arrived early Monday morning.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Puppy Kicker, post: 2096932, member: 20284"] [b]E-mail Plans[/b] [I]11:00 PM Sunday, July 18th Motel 6, Newport News, Virginia[/I] Quin was passed out on the floor of the Motel 6 amid a sea of empty Chinese food boxes. Meadow and Lisa played Poker on one of the beds. Rebecca sat at the laptop checking her e-mail. The response she’d been waiting for had arrived. [FONT=Courier New]TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu> FROM: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com> SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people Rebecca, Grammy Bertha says hi. She says her favorite breakfast was grits, but that you probably wouldn’t know that. She says she always pretended what you made for her was her favorite, and that varied. She says she’s sorry for the “fib” but that you’ll understand. John[/FONT] “Yeah, that sounds like Grammy.” Rebecca began to type furiously, and finally clicked SEND. [FONT=Courier New]TO: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com> FROM: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu> SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people John, The bear is an ancient artifact, presumably Mayan. It’s not usual for that area, however. Apparently it aids in communicating with the dead. A bunch of people are looking for it – and killing people. That’s all I know right now. We’re turning the bear over to a thug tomorrow morning in exchange for a little girl the thug was thinking of killing. What do you think? Thanks again. Rebecca P.S. Did you send the other info (signed) yet? Thanks![/FONT] She moved on to the next message in her inbox then, after carefully saving the message from John Edward in its very own folder. As the next message popped onto her screen she caught her breath. “Oh my…” [FONT=Courier New]TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu> FROM: [email]BEARHUNTER443@hotmail.com[/email] SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people We need to meet. Mr. Gallivan needs to talk to you. Meet us at the McDonalds tomorrow at 10 AM.[/FONT] “Umm.. Meadow.” Meadow looked up from her poker game. “Martin wants to meet us tomorrow.” “Professor Gallivan? How do you know?” Rebecca showed her the e-mail. Meadow scratched her head, took a deep breath. “Do you think we can trust this bearhunter, er, Wendy Johnson?” Rebecca shrugged. “I don’t know if we can trust her. But I don’t know if we have a choice.” Rebecca glanced over at Quin’s dozing form. “Let’s wake up sleepy head there and figure out what we’re doing.” Her e-mail dinged with a new message notification just as she was about to shut down the laptop. [FONT=Courier New]TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu> FROM: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com> SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people Rebecca, I’m sorry to hear about the trouble you’re having with the thug. Do what you feel you need to do. I didn’t mail the letter yet. For this I apologize. I will make it up to you by giving it to you in person this Thursday. Let’s meet at the airport. I’ll Be on UA flight 440, arriving at 11:25. John[/FONT] Rebecca quickly sent her eagerly affirmative reply to the e-mail and then she, Meadow and Quin discussed their plans for the next day. Quin filled Armani and Devin in when they arrived early Monday morning. [/QUOTE]
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