First Sight: A d20 Modern Story Hour (Updated 01-03-2008)
Lamprolign
First Post
We're looking good for an update on Wednesday. The draft is finished and is in editing now... Keep your fingers crossed for me!
Lamprolign
First Post
023
Something in my fate says it's not right for me
Tell me
Am I cursed or am I blessed?
I can't tell, oh yes!
'Cause all is well between the breasts of
Passenger and slave
I'll never make it out alive to join
The witches' rave
- Jeff Buckley, The Witches' Rave
Rats scurried into small crevices beneath piles of rubble, scrambling to escape the source of footfalls that echoed emptily against the rough-hewn tunnel walls. Soon their small eyes squinted against three candles that circled slowly in the air. Beneath the spinning candles walked a woman. Tall and lithe, she moved with a confidence born of power. Straight black hair cascaded over her shoulders, reaching halfway to her waist, framing a face as pale and delicate as porcelain. Dark eyes swept coldly across the quivering rodents in their sanctuary.
Ahead, orange light played across the tunnel ceiling evidencing a conflagration hidden by a sharp curve in the tunnel. No rodents hid among the rubble there. The pungent odor of phosphor washed across the woman as she strode into the flickering light. A perfunctory wave of her hand sent the candles spinning away to hover near the ceiling, awaiting the return of their mistress.
As the woman approached the light source, she saw the rusting hulk of a steam locomotive resting upon a short remnant of steel tracks. Its crew compartment was blasted open. A silhouette sat framed by the intense orange-white flames spilling from the open firebox inside.
"Have you found the girl?" The voice sounded more akin to the rumbling of stone against stone than human speech.
"No, my lord," the woman bowed gracefully, "I have not."
"The coven cannot be allowed to find her." The silhouette stirred, light caught on dark leathern skin. "We are too few to allow one born of such power to escape us."
The woman regarded her master with outward calm. She could feel eyes boring into her but could not bring her gaze to meet them. She shivered imperceptibly, chilled in spite of the inferno. At what price power, she wondered.
"The ghouls have her scent. We shall not fail, Master."
****
Damn! I wish I'd brought a heavier coat, Gabe thought, rubbing his hands together in a vain attempt to restore feeling.
"My, aren't you the stalwart hero."
"The Sister better find a way to return you to your body soon, or..."
"Or what, tough guy?"
Gabe squeezed his temples in frustration. "Pretty soon it's going to come down to me or you. There's not enough room in my mind for both of us!"
"Then get a bigger brain. Whiny loser."
Gabe let out an exasperated sigh and looked around. They were in an old but well kept residential neighborhood on the eastern edge of Rosemont. Gabe's home was only a few blocks away. The afternoon and evening had been spent in fruitless search. Mary's frustration had grown in time with his own, leading to the sparring in his head. A chill wind scraped past him, blasting his dry skin.
That's it! I'm going to get another coat. No way I'm freezing my nuts off while you're curled up warm inside my head. Gabe turned to go home, but stopped abruptly.
The low sounds of distant traffic distorted, as a tape when played too slowly. He closed his eyes against a surge of vertigo that nearly sent him to the ground. An image flashed through his mind. A house, abandoned, with boarded windows. Dark shapes moved stealthily through the snow-covered yard, converging at the front door.
"Ghouls!" Mary gasped.
Gabe's eyes snapped open. The vision had been unlike the others, a fleeting moment of insight. He changed direction again and ran. He knew where the little girl was. He only hoped he could make it in time...
****
Soft light illuminated the woman's pale skin. Her brows drew together over a scowl of pain and fear before she relaxed in seemingly peaceful slumber, only to stir restlessly again moments later. Mumbled words burbled out with each scowl. Occasionally her pale blue eyes flicked open, but she saw nothing in the room. Blankets and pillows carefully tucked around her kept her from falling out of bed.
"What's wrong with her?" Asher Russell leaned against the wood-paneled wall near the foot of the bed.
"I'm not certain." The Sister stood at the bedside, studying the young woman. "Was she like this when you found her?"
"No," Asher responded. "She was still. I thought she was dead until I felt her pulse."
"Aside from some mild hypothermia, there seems to be nothing physically wrong with her. But she's been through great emotional trauma."
"I haven't seen Becky since she left," Asher stated flatly. "Didn't she do the whole family thing?"
"Yes." The Sister's voice was heavy with sadness. "She did. Her husband and son are gone. Mary and Gabriel are searching for her daughter as we speak."
Asher stood quietly looking at the woman's face. He was surprised that after all these years her appearance had stirred up old emotions within him. She was a year older than him, and had arrived at the Haven a few months before him. Over time Asher developed a serious crush on the girl.
A one way street that led to a dead end. I thought I left behind any feelings for her when I left this place. For the first time it occurred to him that it was odd he had taken her to the Haven, and not to a hospital. After all this time running away, lately it seemed the place called out to him and all roads led to its door.
She mumbled again. The Sister leaned closer, examining the woman's face and listening carefully.
"They're after her ... won't leave her alone, why ... after her... my baby... have to find her... they're close... get away, get away from her!"
The Sister's eyes widened, images flashed through her mind. A deserted street, a house with boarded windows....
"Asher, stay with her." The Sister's cane flew from where it rested on the wall, landing in her grasp with an audible thwack. She whirled, exiting the room in a flurry of woolen hem. "POE!"
****
The child lie with knees pulled tight against her chin. For many hours nothing inside the house stirred save a lone rat scampering through the dwelling. The child lay unmoving and the rat had largely ignored her. Now it approached the still form with hesitation. Something that size would feed it for weeks. It crept closer.
The child uncoiled, one arm thrashing out, impacting inches from the terrified rat. In a flurry of scraping claws it bolted across the bare hardwood floor, disappearing into the darkness. The child groaned and rolled in her sleep. Sarah dreamed...
****
She stood on an ashen plain. Shifting veils of black mist closed in around her. Through infrequent breaks in the clouds she saw shapes moving in random directions. She watched them. They appeared as luminous man-shaped forms, but dark heavy bands encased the light. From the harnesses thick tethers disappeared into the mist. The fettered shapes moved closer, lurching forth in an awkward fashion that reminded her of the old dinosaur movies her brother had loved. Chill feathers of dread swept across her skin, sending shivers through her body. She stepped back and turned. In the distance she saw another radiant form, different from the others. This one bore no shackles, it's aurora unhindered by dark bonds. In the distance it shimmered. Sarah studied the unbound light. It did not fill her with trepidation as the others did. The apparition appeared unfocused, as if two separate images overlapped.
A screech echoed across the dreamscape. Sarah whirled toward the noise. One of the tethered forms shambled quickly toward her. The fear tickling her skin surged to panic in a heartbeat. A circle of blue flame sprung into life around her, growing with each passing second. Sarah looked around. All the forms now moved toward her. She looked around frantically, but soon she could see nothing through the wall of blue fire. Images of her ruined house flashed through her mind. She saw her father and younger brother on stretchers covered by sheets. She saw Laura laying on the asphalt and the fires burning all around her. It was all her fault. She was to blame. She thought about her mother and her mind flashed back to the stretchers covered by sheets.
"No..." her small voice was swallowed by the mists. "No, I didn't..."
Sarah collapsed to the ground. She lay on the ground, curled into a tight ball. Tears streamed down her face. She did not want to hurt anyone else. She did not want to fight anymore, did not want to live anymore. The fire receded, swallowed by the darkness. Around her the bound forms converged.
****
Gabe stumbled. The air was sucked from his lungs. It felt as if the universe were taking a great breath, sucking the air from every living thing. Gabe's eyes closed and for a moment everything went black. He pitched forward onto his knees, barely getting one hand on the ground in time to balance himself. Then a blue light flickered ahead of him. It grew and illuminated a grim landscape of black and ashen gray.
"She's there."
Gabe looked at his side. Mary pointed toward the flame. Beyond he saw movement through the mists. The flame disappeared. Air rushed into his lungs with an audible gasp.
Gabe's eyes snapped open. He was kneeling on the icy sidewalk. There in the distance was the abandoned house from his vision. In the light of the streetlamps he saw a rag-swathed human shape shambling toward the front door.
"
!"
Gabe barreled toward the house. He felt the tingling warmth of adrenaline shooting through his limbs, and something else - magic.
"Caer'aroon naes naeor!"
Mary's voice rang in Gabe's head, echoed by his own in the blustery night air. "Caer'aroon naes naeor!"
A bolt of white energy flew unerringly toward the ghoul in the yard. It cried out with the impact, a horrible, keening sound, and then collapsed in the snow. Around both corners of the house other figures emerged. They barely glanced at the smoldering heap in the snow before lurching forward to meet Gabe's charge.
"Six of them, two of us," Mary said. "I like our odds."
Normally Gabe would not have been as confident as his teenage headmate. After all, most of his encounters with the bizarre inhabitants of his newly discovered world involved him running in the opposite direction. But he could feel the adrenaline and the magic coursing through him, his heart pounded like a wardrum inside his chest.
"Tharae curoon taranis!" Gabe's voice gave sound to Mary's words.
Electricity arced around Gabe's arms. Without breaking stride he extended his left arm. Energy leapt forward, coursing around one of the ghouls and outlining distorted human features in its crackling light. The ghoul fell to the ground thrashing, a gruesome snow-angel.
Gabe heard chanting from the ghouls ranks. Not good, he thought. Dark red mists condensed around the ghouls into the writhing from of a serpent. The mists coiled tighter, burst into flame, and then lunged outward.
"Sgiath!"
The column of burning mist exploded against the perimeter of an unseen sphere surrounding Gabe. Tendrils of flame arced off into the night, setting several nearby trees ablaze.
"Balaas aingeal!" Crimson light swirled around Gabe's hand then stabbed forward into the ghouls' midst.
The ghouls scattered, their awkward strides carrying them faster than Gabe could have imagined. Their movements were blurred and disjointed, somehow out of phase with this reality. He lost sight of two as one surged forward to meet his charge. Gabe heard the creature's muttered words, saw the red fire gather about its hands. The flames streamed toward him, washing over his protective sphere. Simultaneously two other streams struck from either side. Gabe could feel intense heat radiating through. With the crystalline sound of shattering glass the shield broke. Gabe dropped and rolled, not avoiding the flames entirely. He bit down hard against the pain searing across the side of his head.
Gabe rolled to his feet some yards away, scorched, his head smoldering like an extinguished matchstick. A heavy weight slammed into his back, sending him back to the ground with a jarring thud. Long, gnarled fingers wrapped around his throat, fingertips pressed into his windpipe. He could not draw breath. His head felt heavy on his neck, his eyelids drooped, the pounding drumbeat of his heart tapered off into a rhythmic, hypnotic pulse
"Gabe! You have to fight!"
Gabe shook his head. He levered his arms beneath him and pushed hard off the ground. Rolling to his side he was able to dislodge his attacker for an instant. Gabe grabbed his left fist inside his right hand and with all his might pistoned his left elbow back to connect with the ghoul's jaw. The impact dazed the creature. Gabe rolled again, landing astride the creature in the snow. He rained blow after blow upon its warped, gruesome visage until its head was buried in the snow and it ceased writhing beneath him.
Gabe sprang to his feet, fists held before him in a boxer's stance. He spun in time to see another ghoul bearing down on him.
"Éibheall!"
A glowing orange sphere shot through the charging ghoul, leaving a smoldering hole where its midriff once was. Gabe was beginning to think that maybe Mary was right, maybe they could take them.
"Fulmen bellare!" A woman's voice split the night, immediately followed by a blinding flash and the peal of thunder.
The ground exploded beside Gabriel. He was flung into the air, landing hard in the midst of a thick evergreen hedge several yards away. Gravel-sized bits of earth and pavement rained around him. Gabe's ears rang and bright flashes of light stabbed at his retinas. He couldn't quite make his arms or legs obey his will. The flashes and consciousness faded quickly.
****
Cold dark eyes surveyed the street and swept up to the abandoned house. A ghoul shambled out of the front door carrying a limp bundle. The corners of the tall woman's mouth turned upward in a cruel smile. Sarah was theirs at last.
© 2003 Austin Hale
Something in my fate says it's not right for me
Tell me
Am I cursed or am I blessed?
I can't tell, oh yes!
'Cause all is well between the breasts of
Passenger and slave
I'll never make it out alive to join
The witches' rave
- Jeff Buckley, The Witches' Rave
Rats scurried into small crevices beneath piles of rubble, scrambling to escape the source of footfalls that echoed emptily against the rough-hewn tunnel walls. Soon their small eyes squinted against three candles that circled slowly in the air. Beneath the spinning candles walked a woman. Tall and lithe, she moved with a confidence born of power. Straight black hair cascaded over her shoulders, reaching halfway to her waist, framing a face as pale and delicate as porcelain. Dark eyes swept coldly across the quivering rodents in their sanctuary.
Ahead, orange light played across the tunnel ceiling evidencing a conflagration hidden by a sharp curve in the tunnel. No rodents hid among the rubble there. The pungent odor of phosphor washed across the woman as she strode into the flickering light. A perfunctory wave of her hand sent the candles spinning away to hover near the ceiling, awaiting the return of their mistress.
As the woman approached the light source, she saw the rusting hulk of a steam locomotive resting upon a short remnant of steel tracks. Its crew compartment was blasted open. A silhouette sat framed by the intense orange-white flames spilling from the open firebox inside.
"Have you found the girl?" The voice sounded more akin to the rumbling of stone against stone than human speech.
"No, my lord," the woman bowed gracefully, "I have not."
"The coven cannot be allowed to find her." The silhouette stirred, light caught on dark leathern skin. "We are too few to allow one born of such power to escape us."
The woman regarded her master with outward calm. She could feel eyes boring into her but could not bring her gaze to meet them. She shivered imperceptibly, chilled in spite of the inferno. At what price power, she wondered.
"The ghouls have her scent. We shall not fail, Master."
****
Damn! I wish I'd brought a heavier coat, Gabe thought, rubbing his hands together in a vain attempt to restore feeling.
"My, aren't you the stalwart hero."
"The Sister better find a way to return you to your body soon, or..."
"Or what, tough guy?"
Gabe squeezed his temples in frustration. "Pretty soon it's going to come down to me or you. There's not enough room in my mind for both of us!"
"Then get a bigger brain. Whiny loser."
Gabe let out an exasperated sigh and looked around. They were in an old but well kept residential neighborhood on the eastern edge of Rosemont. Gabe's home was only a few blocks away. The afternoon and evening had been spent in fruitless search. Mary's frustration had grown in time with his own, leading to the sparring in his head. A chill wind scraped past him, blasting his dry skin.
That's it! I'm going to get another coat. No way I'm freezing my nuts off while you're curled up warm inside my head. Gabe turned to go home, but stopped abruptly.
The low sounds of distant traffic distorted, as a tape when played too slowly. He closed his eyes against a surge of vertigo that nearly sent him to the ground. An image flashed through his mind. A house, abandoned, with boarded windows. Dark shapes moved stealthily through the snow-covered yard, converging at the front door.
"Ghouls!" Mary gasped.
Gabe's eyes snapped open. The vision had been unlike the others, a fleeting moment of insight. He changed direction again and ran. He knew where the little girl was. He only hoped he could make it in time...
****
Soft light illuminated the woman's pale skin. Her brows drew together over a scowl of pain and fear before she relaxed in seemingly peaceful slumber, only to stir restlessly again moments later. Mumbled words burbled out with each scowl. Occasionally her pale blue eyes flicked open, but she saw nothing in the room. Blankets and pillows carefully tucked around her kept her from falling out of bed.
"What's wrong with her?" Asher Russell leaned against the wood-paneled wall near the foot of the bed.
"I'm not certain." The Sister stood at the bedside, studying the young woman. "Was she like this when you found her?"
"No," Asher responded. "She was still. I thought she was dead until I felt her pulse."
"Aside from some mild hypothermia, there seems to be nothing physically wrong with her. But she's been through great emotional trauma."
"I haven't seen Becky since she left," Asher stated flatly. "Didn't she do the whole family thing?"
"Yes." The Sister's voice was heavy with sadness. "She did. Her husband and son are gone. Mary and Gabriel are searching for her daughter as we speak."
Asher stood quietly looking at the woman's face. He was surprised that after all these years her appearance had stirred up old emotions within him. She was a year older than him, and had arrived at the Haven a few months before him. Over time Asher developed a serious crush on the girl.
A one way street that led to a dead end. I thought I left behind any feelings for her when I left this place. For the first time it occurred to him that it was odd he had taken her to the Haven, and not to a hospital. After all this time running away, lately it seemed the place called out to him and all roads led to its door.
She mumbled again. The Sister leaned closer, examining the woman's face and listening carefully.
"They're after her ... won't leave her alone, why ... after her... my baby... have to find her... they're close... get away, get away from her!"
The Sister's eyes widened, images flashed through her mind. A deserted street, a house with boarded windows....
"Asher, stay with her." The Sister's cane flew from where it rested on the wall, landing in her grasp with an audible thwack. She whirled, exiting the room in a flurry of woolen hem. "POE!"
****
The child lie with knees pulled tight against her chin. For many hours nothing inside the house stirred save a lone rat scampering through the dwelling. The child lay unmoving and the rat had largely ignored her. Now it approached the still form with hesitation. Something that size would feed it for weeks. It crept closer.
The child uncoiled, one arm thrashing out, impacting inches from the terrified rat. In a flurry of scraping claws it bolted across the bare hardwood floor, disappearing into the darkness. The child groaned and rolled in her sleep. Sarah dreamed...
****
She stood on an ashen plain. Shifting veils of black mist closed in around her. Through infrequent breaks in the clouds she saw shapes moving in random directions. She watched them. They appeared as luminous man-shaped forms, but dark heavy bands encased the light. From the harnesses thick tethers disappeared into the mist. The fettered shapes moved closer, lurching forth in an awkward fashion that reminded her of the old dinosaur movies her brother had loved. Chill feathers of dread swept across her skin, sending shivers through her body. She stepped back and turned. In the distance she saw another radiant form, different from the others. This one bore no shackles, it's aurora unhindered by dark bonds. In the distance it shimmered. Sarah studied the unbound light. It did not fill her with trepidation as the others did. The apparition appeared unfocused, as if two separate images overlapped.
A screech echoed across the dreamscape. Sarah whirled toward the noise. One of the tethered forms shambled quickly toward her. The fear tickling her skin surged to panic in a heartbeat. A circle of blue flame sprung into life around her, growing with each passing second. Sarah looked around. All the forms now moved toward her. She looked around frantically, but soon she could see nothing through the wall of blue fire. Images of her ruined house flashed through her mind. She saw her father and younger brother on stretchers covered by sheets. She saw Laura laying on the asphalt and the fires burning all around her. It was all her fault. She was to blame. She thought about her mother and her mind flashed back to the stretchers covered by sheets.
"No..." her small voice was swallowed by the mists. "No, I didn't..."
Sarah collapsed to the ground. She lay on the ground, curled into a tight ball. Tears streamed down her face. She did not want to hurt anyone else. She did not want to fight anymore, did not want to live anymore. The fire receded, swallowed by the darkness. Around her the bound forms converged.
****
Gabe stumbled. The air was sucked from his lungs. It felt as if the universe were taking a great breath, sucking the air from every living thing. Gabe's eyes closed and for a moment everything went black. He pitched forward onto his knees, barely getting one hand on the ground in time to balance himself. Then a blue light flickered ahead of him. It grew and illuminated a grim landscape of black and ashen gray.
"She's there."
Gabe looked at his side. Mary pointed toward the flame. Beyond he saw movement through the mists. The flame disappeared. Air rushed into his lungs with an audible gasp.
Gabe's eyes snapped open. He was kneeling on the icy sidewalk. There in the distance was the abandoned house from his vision. In the light of the streetlamps he saw a rag-swathed human shape shambling toward the front door.
"
!"Gabe barreled toward the house. He felt the tingling warmth of adrenaline shooting through his limbs, and something else - magic.
"Caer'aroon naes naeor!"
Mary's voice rang in Gabe's head, echoed by his own in the blustery night air. "Caer'aroon naes naeor!"
A bolt of white energy flew unerringly toward the ghoul in the yard. It cried out with the impact, a horrible, keening sound, and then collapsed in the snow. Around both corners of the house other figures emerged. They barely glanced at the smoldering heap in the snow before lurching forward to meet Gabe's charge.
"Six of them, two of us," Mary said. "I like our odds."
Normally Gabe would not have been as confident as his teenage headmate. After all, most of his encounters with the bizarre inhabitants of his newly discovered world involved him running in the opposite direction. But he could feel the adrenaline and the magic coursing through him, his heart pounded like a wardrum inside his chest.
"Tharae curoon taranis!" Gabe's voice gave sound to Mary's words.
Electricity arced around Gabe's arms. Without breaking stride he extended his left arm. Energy leapt forward, coursing around one of the ghouls and outlining distorted human features in its crackling light. The ghoul fell to the ground thrashing, a gruesome snow-angel.
Gabe heard chanting from the ghouls ranks. Not good, he thought. Dark red mists condensed around the ghouls into the writhing from of a serpent. The mists coiled tighter, burst into flame, and then lunged outward.
"Sgiath!"
The column of burning mist exploded against the perimeter of an unseen sphere surrounding Gabe. Tendrils of flame arced off into the night, setting several nearby trees ablaze.
"Balaas aingeal!" Crimson light swirled around Gabe's hand then stabbed forward into the ghouls' midst.
The ghouls scattered, their awkward strides carrying them faster than Gabe could have imagined. Their movements were blurred and disjointed, somehow out of phase with this reality. He lost sight of two as one surged forward to meet his charge. Gabe heard the creature's muttered words, saw the red fire gather about its hands. The flames streamed toward him, washing over his protective sphere. Simultaneously two other streams struck from either side. Gabe could feel intense heat radiating through. With the crystalline sound of shattering glass the shield broke. Gabe dropped and rolled, not avoiding the flames entirely. He bit down hard against the pain searing across the side of his head.
Gabe rolled to his feet some yards away, scorched, his head smoldering like an extinguished matchstick. A heavy weight slammed into his back, sending him back to the ground with a jarring thud. Long, gnarled fingers wrapped around his throat, fingertips pressed into his windpipe. He could not draw breath. His head felt heavy on his neck, his eyelids drooped, the pounding drumbeat of his heart tapered off into a rhythmic, hypnotic pulse
"Gabe! You have to fight!"
Gabe shook his head. He levered his arms beneath him and pushed hard off the ground. Rolling to his side he was able to dislodge his attacker for an instant. Gabe grabbed his left fist inside his right hand and with all his might pistoned his left elbow back to connect with the ghoul's jaw. The impact dazed the creature. Gabe rolled again, landing astride the creature in the snow. He rained blow after blow upon its warped, gruesome visage until its head was buried in the snow and it ceased writhing beneath him.
Gabe sprang to his feet, fists held before him in a boxer's stance. He spun in time to see another ghoul bearing down on him.
"Éibheall!"
A glowing orange sphere shot through the charging ghoul, leaving a smoldering hole where its midriff once was. Gabe was beginning to think that maybe Mary was right, maybe they could take them.
"Fulmen bellare!" A woman's voice split the night, immediately followed by a blinding flash and the peal of thunder.
The ground exploded beside Gabriel. He was flung into the air, landing hard in the midst of a thick evergreen hedge several yards away. Gravel-sized bits of earth and pavement rained around him. Gabe's ears rang and bright flashes of light stabbed at his retinas. He couldn't quite make his arms or legs obey his will. The flashes and consciousness faded quickly.
****
Cold dark eyes surveyed the street and swept up to the abandoned house. A ghoul shambled out of the front door carrying a limp bundle. The corners of the tall woman's mouth turned upward in a cruel smile. Sarah was theirs at last.
© 2003 Austin Hale
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Dang! The cavalry didn't get there in time
Lamprolign
First Post
Thanks for the compliment! This installment was a struggle and a good word goes a log way in making it all worth it. Since posting I've seen a couple places where it needs major revision but I'm going to concentrate on getting the next installment out in a little more timely fashion. I'm hoping to get it posted in no more than ten days time. As always, keep you fingers crossed, maybe eventually I'll get back to once a week! Now, I'm gonna take a nap!
Lamprolign
First Post
024
Been burned
and with both feet
on the ground,
I've learned
that it's painful
comin' down.
No use runnin' away,
and there's no time
left to stay.
Now I'm finding out
that it's so confusin',
No time left
and I know I'm losin'.
- Buffalo Springfield, Burned
Gabe's mind seemed to float in a murky sea, bobbing in and out of foggy consciousness. Sirens echoed faintly in his ears, providing an undulating background to women conversing in hushed tones. The voices were vaguely familiar, but they seemed watery and distant.
"I think he's hurt pretty badly."
"I can see that, Mary. How much of his sensations can you feel?"
"It is muted, but I can feel enough to know that his body is in terrible pain. I think it tripped a breaker in his brain - Gabe has left the building. What does it look like from the outside?"
"He is burned everywhere his skin was exposed. We need to get him back to the Haven. Poe..."
"This will make twice that I've carried this bakayarou home."
"Be thankful that there's something left to carry, Poe. Remember, however you may feel about Gabriel Ansgar, our own Mary's fate is inextricably tied to his."
Thin arms scooped Gabe from the ground and his head lolled back. Gabe surfaced just long enough to glimpse flashing red and blue lights in the distance before slipping under another wave of darkness.
****
The clinking of china worked its way insidiously into Gabe's consciousness. He breathed in the heavy aroma of baking bread. One by one his senses reconnected to his brain. His joints felt locked in place, his muscles screeched when he moved. His skin felt as if he'd been flipped like a burger on a griddle, especially his face. Gabe chuckled inwardly. I don't think this one's done yet. The face is still a little pink around the cheeks. Let's throw him back on for a minute. He opened his eyes to stare at the now familiar tongue-and-groove ceiling of the Haven.
"Welcome back," Mary greeted him.
"Uhg...." Gabe felt his face gingerly.
"It's still there. The Sister was able to heal most of your wounds. We were lucky."
"I don't think I agree with your definition of luck."
The continued low clinking of dishes told Gabe that he must be in a room near the kitchen. He propped himself on an elbow to survey the confined area. There was a single door and no windows. A small shaded lamp sitting on a light oak bureau cast the only light in the room. Against the far wall a single overstuffed chair held a dark calico cat that regarded him with an unnerving stare.
"Yeeesh," Gabe exclaimed softly.
"What's the matter, Investigator? Don't tell me you're afraid of a little cat," Mary asked innocently.
Gabe ignored Mary. His attention centered on the cat that had risen indolently and indulged in a lengthy full body stretch. It hopped from the chair and sauntered towards the door, which opened by itself, then closed after the cat. Gabe looked after it quizzically.
"Ah, it is good to see you are awake." The Sister swept into the room carrying a steaming mug and a plate containing several slices of bread dripping with butter, topped by globs of strawberry jelly. She deposited the plate and mug atop the oak bureau. "There is a bath down the hall to your right. You will find fresh clothes there. Eat quickly and bathe, then join us in the study."
Gabe stared at the door as it closed behind the Sister. His mind wasn't quite running at operating temperature yet.
"What happened?"
"The bad guys got the little girl." Mary sounded despondent. "And we now know that they are blocking our scrying."
"You know, magic is not the answer to everything. I was pretty damn good at getting to the bottom of a mystery before you ever..." Gabe's grumbling stomach interrupted him.
"Eat. The healing magic burns up your body's resources. You have a lot of calories to regain."
Gabe did not require additional prompting. Before Mary had finished, his hands and face were grubby with strawberry jam and he was washing down the toast with greedy gulps of hot chai. He couldn't shove it in fast enough. The nourishing warmth in his stomach spread to his limbs and seemed to clear his head. At that moment he could have kissed the Sister.
"And bathe, too. You smell like burnt hair."
****
Three Families Homeless As Investigators Sift Through
Wreckage Of Their Rosemont Homes For Clues To
Cause Of Tragic Destruction
Gabe caught the newspaper headline for a split second. It flicked away before he could read more as his fellow passenger turned the page. Gabe looked beyond him to study the bleak Chicago landscape. The city seemed cramped and claustrophobic, mired as it was in gray low-hanging clouds. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the L train. The clacking of the rails beat a steady tempo to the waxing and waning of nearby conversations.
"What are you going to do, Gabe?" Mary broke the silence in his head.
Gabe sighed and turned to face the aisle. First I need to know what information the cops have. Gabe stuck his lower jaw out as he thought. Then we're going to look over that house with a fine-toothed comb. There may be something there that will give us a lead.
Mary remained silent. She was upset, and though her pensive mood spoke well of her character, it did little to further their quest. Another thought crossed Gabe's mind. Maybe she was "giving him room" in his head to think. They were at a loss to find Sarah through magical means. It seemed that even the link Sarah shared with her mother had been severed. The little girl's fate rested on Gabe's abilities as an investigator. He sighed again.
Gabe pulled his cell phone from a coat pocket and scrolled through its phone book function. He pressed the call button when it came to Chris Ebbing's number.
"Hello!" Chris's voice crackled in Gabe's ear at the second ring.
"Hey kid," Gabe greeted. "What are you into?"
"About twenty feet of raw sewage! It's been a madhouse since the bombing. The whole department's in an uproar, feds all over the place commandeering office space and generally making my life difficult. They don't quite get that there's still all the normal idiots out there making trouble!"
Gabe raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had never heard the typically unflappable photographer sound so agitated. "I'd say, 'I wish I was there,' but I'd be lying."
"Well, I sure wish you were here! The CSI unit is swamped!" Chris snapped. "And now there's a nice new mess in Rosemont that everybody and their uncle is getting involved in."
"Really?"
"I went with the CSI team, and it looked like a friggin' war zone out there. Bomb craters and everything! Whatever went down, there was some serious firepower involved. People keep talking Al Qaeda, but Rosemont isn't exactly a high profile target. I can't make any sense of it."
Gabe grinned ruefully. If you only knew what really happened. "Did you guys get anything useful?"
"Not a damn thing," Chris growled. "Just some crispy bodies in front of an abandoned house. We don't have positive IDs yet, but based on their clothes and appearance I'm guessing they were homeless. Poor bastards were probably just holed up in the old house trying to stay warm. They got more than they bargained for, that's for sure."
Homeless people? Gabe didn't recall seeing any bystanders. "Nothing else, huh?"
"Not a thing. No vehicles, no witnesses, nothing! Any word on when you're coming back?"
"None yet."
"Don't make it a permanent vacation. We need you here, man." Chris sighed. "Gotta split, dude. There's a homicide scene on South Cicero waiting for the camera."
"Later, kid."
"See you around, old man."
Gabe shoved the cell into his coat pocket. The durable device had survived all his recent scrapes in far better shape than he.
"Homeless people," Mary began. "I wonder..."
Yeah, me, too.
© 2003 Austin Hale
Been burned
and with both feet
on the ground,
I've learned
that it's painful
comin' down.
No use runnin' away,
and there's no time
left to stay.
Now I'm finding out
that it's so confusin',
No time left
and I know I'm losin'.
- Buffalo Springfield, Burned
Gabe's mind seemed to float in a murky sea, bobbing in and out of foggy consciousness. Sirens echoed faintly in his ears, providing an undulating background to women conversing in hushed tones. The voices were vaguely familiar, but they seemed watery and distant.
"I think he's hurt pretty badly."
"I can see that, Mary. How much of his sensations can you feel?"
"It is muted, but I can feel enough to know that his body is in terrible pain. I think it tripped a breaker in his brain - Gabe has left the building. What does it look like from the outside?"
"He is burned everywhere his skin was exposed. We need to get him back to the Haven. Poe..."
"This will make twice that I've carried this bakayarou home."
"Be thankful that there's something left to carry, Poe. Remember, however you may feel about Gabriel Ansgar, our own Mary's fate is inextricably tied to his."
Thin arms scooped Gabe from the ground and his head lolled back. Gabe surfaced just long enough to glimpse flashing red and blue lights in the distance before slipping under another wave of darkness.
****
The clinking of china worked its way insidiously into Gabe's consciousness. He breathed in the heavy aroma of baking bread. One by one his senses reconnected to his brain. His joints felt locked in place, his muscles screeched when he moved. His skin felt as if he'd been flipped like a burger on a griddle, especially his face. Gabe chuckled inwardly. I don't think this one's done yet. The face is still a little pink around the cheeks. Let's throw him back on for a minute. He opened his eyes to stare at the now familiar tongue-and-groove ceiling of the Haven.
"Welcome back," Mary greeted him.
"Uhg...." Gabe felt his face gingerly.
"It's still there. The Sister was able to heal most of your wounds. We were lucky."
"I don't think I agree with your definition of luck."
The continued low clinking of dishes told Gabe that he must be in a room near the kitchen. He propped himself on an elbow to survey the confined area. There was a single door and no windows. A small shaded lamp sitting on a light oak bureau cast the only light in the room. Against the far wall a single overstuffed chair held a dark calico cat that regarded him with an unnerving stare.
"Yeeesh," Gabe exclaimed softly.
"What's the matter, Investigator? Don't tell me you're afraid of a little cat," Mary asked innocently.
Gabe ignored Mary. His attention centered on the cat that had risen indolently and indulged in a lengthy full body stretch. It hopped from the chair and sauntered towards the door, which opened by itself, then closed after the cat. Gabe looked after it quizzically.
"Ah, it is good to see you are awake." The Sister swept into the room carrying a steaming mug and a plate containing several slices of bread dripping with butter, topped by globs of strawberry jelly. She deposited the plate and mug atop the oak bureau. "There is a bath down the hall to your right. You will find fresh clothes there. Eat quickly and bathe, then join us in the study."
Gabe stared at the door as it closed behind the Sister. His mind wasn't quite running at operating temperature yet.
"What happened?"
"The bad guys got the little girl." Mary sounded despondent. "And we now know that they are blocking our scrying."
"You know, magic is not the answer to everything. I was pretty damn good at getting to the bottom of a mystery before you ever..." Gabe's grumbling stomach interrupted him.
"Eat. The healing magic burns up your body's resources. You have a lot of calories to regain."
Gabe did not require additional prompting. Before Mary had finished, his hands and face were grubby with strawberry jam and he was washing down the toast with greedy gulps of hot chai. He couldn't shove it in fast enough. The nourishing warmth in his stomach spread to his limbs and seemed to clear his head. At that moment he could have kissed the Sister.
"And bathe, too. You smell like burnt hair."
****
Three Families Homeless As Investigators Sift Through
Wreckage Of Their Rosemont Homes For Clues To
Cause Of Tragic Destruction
Gabe caught the newspaper headline for a split second. It flicked away before he could read more as his fellow passenger turned the page. Gabe looked beyond him to study the bleak Chicago landscape. The city seemed cramped and claustrophobic, mired as it was in gray low-hanging clouds. He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds of the L train. The clacking of the rails beat a steady tempo to the waxing and waning of nearby conversations.
"What are you going to do, Gabe?" Mary broke the silence in his head.
Gabe sighed and turned to face the aisle. First I need to know what information the cops have. Gabe stuck his lower jaw out as he thought. Then we're going to look over that house with a fine-toothed comb. There may be something there that will give us a lead.
Mary remained silent. She was upset, and though her pensive mood spoke well of her character, it did little to further their quest. Another thought crossed Gabe's mind. Maybe she was "giving him room" in his head to think. They were at a loss to find Sarah through magical means. It seemed that even the link Sarah shared with her mother had been severed. The little girl's fate rested on Gabe's abilities as an investigator. He sighed again.
Gabe pulled his cell phone from a coat pocket and scrolled through its phone book function. He pressed the call button when it came to Chris Ebbing's number.
"Hello!" Chris's voice crackled in Gabe's ear at the second ring.
"Hey kid," Gabe greeted. "What are you into?"
"About twenty feet of raw sewage! It's been a madhouse since the bombing. The whole department's in an uproar, feds all over the place commandeering office space and generally making my life difficult. They don't quite get that there's still all the normal idiots out there making trouble!"
Gabe raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had never heard the typically unflappable photographer sound so agitated. "I'd say, 'I wish I was there,' but I'd be lying."
"Well, I sure wish you were here! The CSI unit is swamped!" Chris snapped. "And now there's a nice new mess in Rosemont that everybody and their uncle is getting involved in."
"Really?"
"I went with the CSI team, and it looked like a friggin' war zone out there. Bomb craters and everything! Whatever went down, there was some serious firepower involved. People keep talking Al Qaeda, but Rosemont isn't exactly a high profile target. I can't make any sense of it."
Gabe grinned ruefully. If you only knew what really happened. "Did you guys get anything useful?"
"Not a damn thing," Chris growled. "Just some crispy bodies in front of an abandoned house. We don't have positive IDs yet, but based on their clothes and appearance I'm guessing they were homeless. Poor bastards were probably just holed up in the old house trying to stay warm. They got more than they bargained for, that's for sure."
Homeless people? Gabe didn't recall seeing any bystanders. "Nothing else, huh?"
"Not a thing. No vehicles, no witnesses, nothing! Any word on when you're coming back?"
"None yet."
"Don't make it a permanent vacation. We need you here, man." Chris sighed. "Gotta split, dude. There's a homicide scene on South Cicero waiting for the camera."
"Later, kid."
"See you around, old man."
Gabe shoved the cell into his coat pocket. The durable device had survived all his recent scrapes in far better shape than he.
"Homeless people," Mary began. "I wonder..."
Yeah, me, too.
© 2003 Austin Hale
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