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[crsmallwriting-blog]

The One At the End

Chapter 36-

Several months later, Tyler, Lucy, and Christine gathered again at the football field. Hundreds of people filled the folding chairs on the field, as well as the metal bleachers. Most of the bleachers had emptied after the ceremony, but hundreds of people still sat there. Big blue and white balloons floated off into the clear blue sky. The three of them were gathered at a wooded area at the back of the football field, with just a chain-link fence separating them from where they were to the school they just graduated from.

“It’s just graduation,” Tyler joked, his arms wrapped around Christine’s waist. “I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Tyler,” Lucy sighed. “We’re all going our separate ways after summer. We’re not going to get to see each other every day. You seriously don’t see the drama of all of it?”

“No,” Tyler said, laughing. “But I know we three aren’t going anywhere.”

He was quite right. They all somehow miraculously managed to get accepted at the same college, and were not going to be leaving each other any time soon.

“Silly, Tyler,” Christine said, leaning over and giving him a big kiss. “We’re officially done with high school. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“No,” Tyler said, honestly. “I still can’t believe we’re done. I guess I won’t believe we’re done until we walk through the campus gates in August.”

“Excuse me,” a boy came up to the group. “Can I talk with Lucy for a bit?”

“Go right ahead, John,” Tyler said, smiling like an idiot. “But take her somewhere else, please. Christine and I already claimed this tree.” He tapped the tree the three of them had been chatting underneath. John laughed. He extended a hand, which Lucy ignored as she left Tyler and Christine.

“What’s up, John?” Lucy asked after they were a few hundred feet away from Tyler and Christine.

John looked down, and he shuffled his feet a little bit. “I don’t really know,” he admitted. “I had run through all sorts of stuff I wanted to tell you, I needed to tell you. But now I can’t think of any of it.”

“Well, maybe I could talk a bit, then,” Lucy suggested.

“No, that won’t do at all,” John said. “That’ll just make it harder.”

“Make what harder?” Lucy asked.

“Everything,” John said. “Why didn’t you come to that football game on Thanksgiving?” he suddenly asked.

Lucy was a little taken aback. “I was there. Well, I was for the first half. But a, erm, family emergency came up, and I had to leave,” she said. Which was technically true, but also was not.

“See, there’s the thing,” John said. “I want to believe you. With all my heart, I want to believe you. But that ‘erm’ just ruins it.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” Lucy said. “I was at the game, I swear.”

“I want to believe you,” John said. “Like I wanted to believe that you might’ve been able to have feelings for me.”

“Wait,” Lucy said. “You think I don’t have feelings for you? John, I loved spending time with you. Aquitaine and all of that? I loved that. You were the first boy who’s ever been interested in me, the first one to want to kiss me, and who did so. Of course I have feelings for you.”

“Not in the same way,” John exclaimed, exasperated. “I care about you so much, Lucy Rosenberg. I would give up football if you said you were worried for me when I played. I’d jump through hoops to try to see you. Though now…now I really see you.”

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked. She met John’s gaze, and she was determined to hold his eyes until he looked down. Ashamed, she saw adoration in his eyes, and she looked down first.

“You know those movies that mom’s like to see? The ones with ‘the one’ for some girl? That’s what I wanted, Lucy. I wanted to be ‘the one’ for you. The one you could rely on, the one you could trust, the one who you could pour your heart out to and not worry about feeling stupid, the one whose shoulder you could always find support on.” John stopped talking. He reached awkwardly, and grasped her hands with his. “I loved you from afar, Lucy.” There was an awkward silence. Lucy fought every instinct to pull her hands back.

“But I know now,” John continued. “I know that we aren’t going to end up one of those couples, where everyone looks at them and they just know that they were meant to be together. Like Johnson and Anderson. You just know they are going to be together forever, and you don’t even think about trying to get in between them. I wanted that with you, Lucy. But I see that it’s never going to happen. Goodbye, Lucy,” John said. He dropped her hands, turned around, and walked away. He hopped the chain-link fence, and went back to his family.

“Wait, John!” Lucy called after him. It was no use. Either he didn’t hear her, or he was ignoring her.

Lucy’s hands flew to her mouth. Thick, hot, burning tears started rolling down her cheeks. The best way to describe how she felt was mad, she decided. There, walking away from her, out of her life, was a boy who saw her. Who saw she was special, and who wanted to be with her. And she had been too blind to see it.

Lucy fell to her knees, and just cried. When Tyler and Christine tried to come over and see what the issue was, she shooed them away. Christine seemed to understand, and she pulled Tyler away. Lucy thought she heard Christine say “I’ll explain when you’re older,” and Lucy smiled. The tears summed up how she felt: happy to be done with high school, sad to leave her friends; happy to be going to a place with Tyler and Christine, sad to not have John too.

A resounding clang of metal on metal rang out.

“DAD!” Tyler yelled. He disentangled himself from Christine’s arm, and he ran back across the field and up the bleachers. He threw himself at his father, and almost knocked them both down.

“Dad!” Tyler exclaimed again, tears starting to sting his eyes. “I thought they said you couldn’t come today.”

“No amount of doctor’s orders was going to keep me coming from my son’s high school graduation,” Steve said, laughing.

“I’m really happy you’re here, dad. Really. But you should listen to the doctor’s. As cool as the bionic legs are, you can’t just be walking around on them all the time. That’s why they gave you the wheel chair.”

“The wheel chair is uncomfortable though,” Steve whined like a little kid.

In all honesty, he was grateful to be alive. He was so lucky to have only lost his legs when the building exploded in November. Well, he lost up to the knee. But burns and exposure among the rubble of the building had left him virtually helpless. He had managed to crawl a few feet, and escaped most of the damage of burning debris from falling on him. Modern science was a wonder. He now had bionic legs, which he was still getting accustomed to; and for everything else he had the possibility of a wheel chair. He was still mobile, but he wasn’t playing as many games as tennis as he used to at the country club.

Paul and Amelia literally disappeared. Paul had packed his bags and left the home he had known. All his books, all his belongings, clothes, everything: gone. When he left, all there was left was a bare room with wooden floors and white walls that were in desperate need of a paintjob. Scribbled in the dust under what had been a bed was a quick message: I found her. I’m off for life. PR

Paul hadn’t actually disappeared. Well, he had in the sense that no one he knew knew where he was anymore. He and Amelia moved to Colorado where there were mountains. Paul got a job as an actor in a community theater group, and started a career as such. He was encouraged to do that from Amelia, who thought he did a damn good job of pretending which side he was on after he had made up his mind to break down the Hunters if he could.

Amelia didn’t get a job. She didn’t want one. She spent her time volunteering as a specialist at a local hospital for “special” kids that the doctor’s just did not know what to do with. She and Paul started a family, and they were happy living with menial money. But they had each other, and that was all they needed.

The Hunters were disbanded, the Other Side forgotten. Steve forwent his research. It was destroyed in the fire with the building. The only other one who knew what it pertained was dead twice over. General Margaret Woodend was fired, and not allowed into the normal Army for being too severe, and for failing a psychology test. She did, after all, have fantastic stories of people who turned into wolves, of technology that would turn people into wolves, of people who could shift their shapes, and other such tales.

Tyler and Christine were standing in the metal bleachers, looking out over the football fields. They were the only ones left, graduation having been finished several hours previously. They stood, looking at the sun sinking below the tree lines, painting the clear summer evening orange.

“Christine,” Tyler said eventually. “Will you

[crsmallwriting-blog]

The One With Fighting

Chapter 35-

“Amelia, get out of here!” Steve managed to call out between mouthfuls of the thick black smoke and through the pain of having a knife in the back. “Paul Rosenberg… ….Hall 34,” Steve said. Anything else he was going to say was drowned out by a lungful of smoke.

A small clatter was heard, followed by another quick one. After Brendon had stabbed Steve the first time, Steve fell to the ground, which saved him. The second attack missed him and the knife hit the wall and then the floor. Crawling towards the area where the sound of the knife hitting the floor, Steve struggled to arm himself with the lone weapon against Brendon.

“Oh come now, Steve,” Brendon called in a sing-song voice. “You think a little bit of smoke is going to stop me from killing you? How cute.” Anything else he was going to say was quickly silenced as Brendon stopped talking and started choking on smoke.

Steve finally found the knife that Brendon had dropped. He found it blade first, and blood started dripping down a long cut on his left palm. Wriggling around the floor like a snake, Steve listened intently to find Brendon by sound. He felt oddly like a blind bat, using echolocation to find its meal. Finally, Brendon started trying to goad Steve again.

“OK, fine, maybe I won’t kill you,” Brendon said. “That’s a lie. I am going to kill you. But you can live longer. Seriously. Just surrender your rights to the research we’ve done, and you can crawl away from here. Give me the research, and—JESUS CHRIST!” he yelled.

Steve had used the time that Brendon was talking and choking to hone in on his location. Slithering along the floor with the knife in his un-bloodied hand, he plunged the knife as far as he could into the back of Brendon’s thigh, and twisted the knife with all of his strength. Brendon collapsed onto the floor like a sack of potatoes, blood spurting out of the gash in his leg.

Realizing that Steve still had the knife, Brendon lunged across the floor; with one hand clasped to his thigh, the other outstretched for the weapon. Steve rolled in the same direction that Brendon was lunging from, and they rolled around on top of each other, a writhing mass of legs and arms, each struggling to get on top in the more dominant position for hand to hand combat. Steve ended on top. He could feel himself growing weaker. The initial wound he suffered from Brendon was too high to damage any important organs, but blood loss and location was starting to inhibit the movement in his right arm.

Knowing that he was losing control of his right arm, Steve switched the knife to his left hand. The hand he had previously cut on the blade. Blood was starting to pool on the floor from the wounds the two adults had inflicted on each other: Brendon’s calf, and Steve’s left hand and right shoulder. Steve placed his right hand on Brendon, pinning him to the ground, and raised the bloody left hand above Brendon. In what little light there still was around the smoke, Brendon could see the shining red blood that the knife had bathed in in Steve. It was his turn to be a bathtub for the knife to drown in blood.

Brendon took a deep breath. His throat quivered, though whether it was from fear or lack of oxygen, it was hard to say. Brendon started laughing. “You really think you can kill me with that, Steve? You had a hard time giving drugs to a werewolf. A nobody. Drugs that would help them. You really think you can end a human life?”

“You’re not human,” Steve said, choking around his words. “A human would show compassion to the people we locked in those cages. A human would feel remorse for the atrocities we have committed.

“You ask how I can end your life? Easily. You. Threatened. My. Son. No one does that. It’s not just the mother that would sacrifice themselves for their young. For a science teacher, you don’t know that much about the love and protection parents feel for their young.”

Brendon looked into the eyes of Steve Johnson. He saw no fear, no hesitation. Just loathing.  He started laughing. “Steve, please,” he said. “Think of how far we have progressed science. I’m your partner. Your friend. Think of the laurels we’ll get when we present our research. Think of the discoveries Johnson and Schapiro have yet to discover. You’re not a killer. You can’t imagine the hate you need to have to kill. That probably wasn’t a help. But just think. The things we have seen. You’ll be a murderer. Steve, there are other options.”

“All I hear is fear of a man looking at death in the face, stalling, praying that my resolve will break,” Steve snarled. The pain in his shoulder was starting to become unbearable. His grip on the blood-soaked knife was loosening too. Reaching a decision, Steve spoke again. “You threatened my son and my family, putting lives of not just them, but civilians in danger without knowing the full power of the SimMoon. If I run into the scum that you are again, I will not forget.” Summoning the remaining strength Steve had in his arm, he used his right hand to push off of Brendon’s chest to stand. The fates were against Brendon yet again that day.

Steve slipped in the pool of blood that was surrounding the two men. With his loosened grip, the knife slipped out of his hand. There was no clatter as the knife fell on the tile floor this time. There was a small thwunk, like an arrow piercing a target. Following the thwunk was a gurgling sound, followed by a deep exhale.

Steve looked down. The knife that was previously in his hand was standing, buried to the hilt, in Brendon’s neck. Fresh blood gushed out of the wound, adding the blood on the floor. Brendon only smiled. “Look at that, Steve. You killed me anyway.”

All the color had drained out of Brendon’s face. His white shirt was slowly darkening to crimson with the blood from the neck wound and the pool on the floor. Brendon spluttered on blood and smoke. “Get out of here, Steve. I’m done for already. You need to publish our research. Promise me you’ll publish our research, and prove the ‘Other Side’…are people… too. Promise.”

“I promise,” Steve said. Turning his back to his fallen colleague, Steve started running for his life. The building was going to blow itself up. He heard one last shuddering breath leave Brendon.

Steve turned back. He ran back to where Brendon was.  He looked at the still face, and was amazed at how quickly a life could be extinguished. He closed Brendon’s eyes. He turned again, and started running for his life.

Steve reached Hallway 34. He was only a few hundred yards from the exit. The entrance where the adults had entered the building only about fifteen minutes earlier was just out of reach.

“Thank you for visiting HHQ,” an automated voice said. “The building will now self-destruct for safety measures. I sincerely hope you get outside in 5…..4…..3….2…..1….have a nice day!”

There was a shudder in the building. And then there was stillness.

***

Sitting in the van in the parking lot, the rest of the group sat watching the tower that they had previously been in. Tearfully, they sat, praying that they would see their loved one return.

There was a deep rumbling sound. A shudder, like an earthquake, resounded. And the tower they had been watching feverishly burst into flames. 

[crsmallwriting-blog]

The One With Late Exposition

Chapter 34-

Amelia stepped forward, out of the smoke. It was definitely Amelia, of that Paul had no doubt. But she was not the same woman he had fallen in love with a few years before.

She was different. A few years turned the beautiful woman to a hollow shell of a woman. Her eyes sunk into her head. What little fat was on her body melted away, leaving her like a walking skeleton. Her cherry-blonde hair had faded to a silver-white color, making her look like an elderly woman instead of the mid-twenties woman she was. With the smoke behind her, Amelia looked like something out of a horror movie.

Paul strode forward, and he wrapped her in a bear hug. He was surprised to feel tears starting to sting his eyes. He inhaled deeply, and started choking on the thick smoke. For him to be standing there, holding her to him like the most valuable thing in the world, it just felt so right.

“What happened?” Paul demanded. “You were dead.”

“Thanks, Captain Obvious,” Amelia retorted. “Or should I say, major?”

“No, no rank at all,” Paul said. “That’s behind me now. But what happened to you?”

“It’s not a story for being in a building that is about to be blown up,” Amelia said. “You really think I can relate a few years of my life in three minutes? You always were a little naïve, Paul.”

“You’re still as sharp-tongued as you were before,” Paul commented. “At least time hasn’t changed that.”

“How about we save the catching up until we get out of here?” Amelia suggested.

“Fair enough,” Paul agreed, and he reached out a hand to guide Amelia towards him. She grabbed it, locking her fingers.

“God, I’ve missed this,” she said. Walking away from the smoke filled room, Paul and Amelia turned back towards the future together.

***

Steve Johnson looked back over his shoulder once he knew that April would be safe. He had a mission to do. It no longer mattered if he got out too. He had to free someone.

He made his way to a cell deep in the back of the containment cells. It was, like the other cells, specifically designed for the species it was meant to contain. Grassy knolls, hills, and assorted flora lined the bottoms of the cages. The “Other Side” that was meant to be contained here were faeries, dwarfs, nymphs, and other such woodland creatures. There was only cage being used in this area of the building.

Steve thought of the way they had managed to find her. He was going over the medical records for the new Air-Force cadets. All of the cadets had blood work done, and this one female cadet was different. She did not have a blood type. She had her blood drawn, Steve remembered doing it himself, but she did not have a blood type. It was not the typical A, B, AB, or O. The computer said that it was type F. Not knowing what that was, Steve had called her to the medical section of the academy. After talking to the girl for a few minutes, he realized that she was not necessarily human. Her fingers started to get long and tapered, and she seemed to shrink in the chair without sliding onto the floor. Then most surprisingly, she just got up partway through the discussion, and ran out, trying to cover her skin. He later discovered that she was not human. She was a faery. Not good for much but playing really good practical jokes on humans.

The girls’ name was Amelia Jacques. She had cherry-blonde hair and bright green eyes. All the male cadets seemed to have the hots for her, she really was quite stunning. Steve could see where they were coming. However, Steve also knew that she only had her eyes on one specific cadet, that being Paul Rosenberg. Steve remembered how she had come to him a few weeks after the blood testing and asked for help. She told him that she was, as long as she could remember, able to change her body at will, to become a few inches tall blue faery, and then back again. However, she couldn’t spend much more than a couple of days in one form before changing.

Steve brought the predicament to his lab partner, Brendon Schapiro. That was the first time that Brendon knew about the “Other Side.” Brendon had been working on a chemical vaccine that administered would help stabilize the brain, and in theory, help the brain produce certain hormones. Hormones that were only found in the human brain. The theory behind it was that the extra human hormones would suppress the need for her to change her form. Amelia had agreed to test the new vaccine that Brendon Schapiro had put together. Once a month for several months she would go down to the medical station and be given the vaccine. And for the rest of the month, Amelia would not have to change.

That was all well and good. But eventually, she became dependent on it. She’d have a date, or she felt it wearing off, and she’d demand another dose. One day, she got violent when Brendon had refused to give it to her. Steve, unfortunately, had to sedate her. When she had come to, Paul Rosenberg had been discharged. She flew into a fit of rage, and immediately went home and doubled the piercings in her ears. She too was discharged, but she hadn’t thought it through. Now that she was out of the military, she was not able to get the Human Stabilizer Vaccine, HSV as Steve and Brendon thought of it, regularly. Over time, she started needing to change her shape every week.

One night, on a full moon, she was going to visit Paul for a late night date. On her way, she saw a man shift into a werewolf, and attack a girl with hair like hers. At least, it looked like hers under the streetlight she was standing on. Amelia became terrified that she might hurt someone if she was able to continue changing her shape.  She went running back to Doctor Schapiro and Johnson, and begged for the HSV again. Schapiro had been the only one there, and he sedated her and kept her in a containment cell. Steve knew about it, and felt bad for the poor young woman, but knew that the contributions to science would prove to be worth more in the long run than one girl.

It was Brendon’s idea that they told Paul Rosenberg that she had been the one killed, instead of the other girl. After all, Amelia was alone. Her parents were raging alcoholics who never remembered that they had a daughter. She had joined the military so that she would have a place to sleep and three square meals a day.

Steve had found this all out after the fact, of course. She was just a poor woman who happened to be a faery who could change her shape. Finally Steve reached the cage she was sitting in.

“Amelia,” he said, as he reached the cage, smoke still swirling all around the cages, the stairs, everything. “Time to leave, we’re—ow.” He stopped talking suddenly. A literal knife in the back was going to do that to someone.

“I’d sooner see her dead than free,” Brendon hissed from somewhere behind Steve. The thick smoke obscured him completely. “Of course, seeing you dead too would be a benefit. That way, I won’t have to share credit with you for all your research. Thank you for that, Steve. It was nice working with you.”