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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Puppy Kicker" data-source="post: 2100972" data-attributes="member: 20284">Old Haunts10:00 AM Monday, July 19thMcDonalds, Yorktown, VirginiaQuinton sat up in the driver seat of the M3 as the Dodge Caravan pulled into the McDonalds parking lot.  “I think that’s them.”  Rebecca was sitting in the passenger side and he poked her in the side.  “That’s the van we saw the other night, right?”Rebecca scowled.  “I SEE it, Quin.  Stop poking.”  She peered at the van.  “Yeah, I think that’s it.”  The van pulled into a parking spot near the M3 and the passenger door slid open.  A red-headed woman stepped out and stretched.  She looked around the parking lot.Meadow leaned forward from the back seat.  “That’s Wendy Johnson.  Her hair’s longer than I remember, but I recognize that gorgeous… I mean…” Meadow coughed uncomfortably.  “That’s her.”  She leaned back again, face red.Quinton opened the door and started to get out.  “Let’s see what she wants.”Rebecca grabbed him by the back of the pants and tugged him back into the car.  “Meadow and I will go.  You stay here with Lisa, in case something happens.”  Lisa was sitting in the back seat next to Meadow.  She was looking pale and weary and hadn’t said much all morning.“No problem, dude.”  Quin slammed the door and cranked up the radio.  “The little lady and I will stay here and jam while you two put your lives in danger.”Rebecca and Meadow got out of the car and approached the van.  As they got closer Wendy saw them and said something into the van.  The driver door opened and Professor Gallivan stepped out, looking a bit worse for wear but healthy enough.  “Miss Michaels, Miss McLean.  I am so glad to see you!”They stood in the parking lot, discussing the events of the previous week.  Professor Gallivan explained that the group that had abducted him was really not that bad and that they had been able to help him uncover some more information about the Messenger of the Dead.  “Interesting,” said Rebecca.  “They shot you, shot Quin, shot Meadow, shot Armani, and almost killed Devin.”  Her hands were on her hips and she had a vicious scowl.  “But that’s OK, because they were able to tell you a little bit about that little stone bear.  Fair trade.”“Yeah.  I’m going to have a scar, dude.”Rebecca turned around and looked at Quin, who had snuck up sometime during her tirade.  “Aren’t you supposed to be watching Lisa?”“No way, Becca.  She wanted to listen to Britney.”  He deflected Rebecca’s scowl with his own hurt look.  “I couldn’t turn her down, she’s sick.  But I couldn’t handle it myself.”Wendy looked genuinely sorry.  “I’m really sorry that things went the way they did.  You have to believe that I never wanted that to happen.”  She slid the back door of the van open.  “Please, climb in the van.  I have something to show you.”"Nope," said Rebecca.Quin said "Nuh uh.""I don't think so," Meadow concluded.  And then she explosively vomited all over the side of the van, with some collateral damage spewing onto Wendy’s feet.●10:00 AM Monday, July 19th“Nickels”, Newport News, VirginiaArmani and Devin sat down at the bar in Nickels.  The same bartender was there as always, wiping the immaculate counter.  “Mister Nickels will be out soon.  He’s expecting you.  Want a beer?"“Sure.”  Devin nodded and looked around the bar.  Completely empty."Naw, too <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" />in' early for beer.  How 'bout a Tequila Sunrise?"They were nursing their drinks when Sammy Nickels entered the bar through a back door.  He sat at a small table and the bartender brought him a Bloody Mary.  Once he’d had a sip he directed Devin and Armani to join him.“You have what I need?”“I said I would, and I do,” Devin said.  He slid a paper bag across the table to Sammy, who picked it up and closed his eyes.●10:15 AM Monday, July 19thMcDonalds, Yorktown, Virginia"Should we tell Wendy about the messages on her answering machine?" Rebecca whispered.Quinton shrugged.  "Hey, uh, Sammy was trying to get ahold of you."Wendy was too busy trying to avoid the pool of vomit at her feet to answer.  Meadow was holding her stomach as she stumbled away from the van.  Professor Gallivan moved the van a couple spaces down to avoid the vomit puddle and they all gathered around it again, with the exception of Meadow, who remained a few feet further from it trying to maintain her upright position.  She felt really bad.Wendy pointed towards a large object in the van’s back seat, covered with a blanket.  “This is why we need the Messenger of the Dead.”  She pulled the blanket back to reveal a large obsidian block, immaculately clean but for a few darker-than-black stains.  There were several receptacles in the block in various shapes.  One was obviously bear shaped, and sized to fit the Messenger of the Dead.  The others were about the same size, but in the shapes of various animals.  Wendy continued, “And this is why it is so important that the forces of evil do not get their hands on the Messenger.”“Forces of evil, you say?”  Quin said.  “So forces of evil would be forces that break into a fast food restaurant and start shooting people.  Right?  Or are we talking about DIFFERENT forces of evil?”  He shrugged.  “Just asking.”“Gotta agree with Quin, here.  And by the way, I don’t have a crush on you anymore.” Rebecca said to the professor.  Then she turned her attention to Meadow.  “Meadow, what’s wrong?”Meadow was cowering against an adjacent car, shivering.  “Too strong…”“Cover that <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /> up,” said Quin.  “Now.”Wendy pulled the blanket back over the obsidian block and some color returned to Meadow’s face.  “What’s wrong with her?” She asked.Rebecca ignored the question.  “Just tell us what’s going on.”Professor Gallivan closed the van door.  “You’re going to have to take some things on faith here, guys.”  He looked very stern.  “Magic is real.”  He looked around, perusing the faces of his students.Meadow looked much healthier with the van door closed.  “Yeah, magic’s real.  So what’s that have to do with us?”  Quin and Rebecca both seemed equally unimpressed and awaited a response.“Well.  That was supposed to be the hard part.”  Professor Gallivan went on to explain that the Messenger of the Dead was but one of several Mayan artifacts that could be used to not only communicate with the dead, but also control the dead.  When combined in the obsidian receptacle the power of the artifacts was fantastic and could have devastating repercussions.  The coven Wendy belonged to was attempting to recover them in order to prevent them from falling into the hands of evil.Professor Gallivan looked stern again.  “It is vitally important that the Messenger of the Dead not fall into the wrong hands.  We have it on good faith that some of the other artifacts are already in the area, possibly in the hands of those who would abuse their power.”“And…”  Quin looked a bit nervous.  “So, who would you consider being the ‘wrong hands’?”  He asked.Professor Gallivan stared into Quin’s eyes.  “There are those in this world who are evil.  Who abuse the trust, the very lives of others without a second thought.  If men like this were to gain control of the Messenger of the Dead then who knows what they might do with it?”“Yeah… about that…”●10:15 AM Monday, July 19th“Nickels”, Newport News, VirginiaAfter a minute of holding the still-closed paper bag, Sammy set it on the table.  “You have delivered what I asked for.”“Then we’re square?”  Devin asked.“We’re square, Mister Cole.”  Sammy looked to Armani.  “You and I are even as well.  Though there is other unfinished business that you may have with me.”Armani nodded.  Wendy Johnson’s head on a platter.  “Yeah, I might get around to that <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" />.”  He shrugged.  “Might not.”“Your choice, Mister Determan.”  Sammy stood up, the paper bag containing the Messenger of the Dead in his hand.  “The offer stands.”  He left through the same door he had entered.Devin finished his beer. “Productive day.”Armani finished his Tequila Sunrise.  “Yup.  Looks like this <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /><img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" /> is all over with.”Devin stood up.  “Time to get back to a normal life.”They left.</blockquote>

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