Below our old shade tree I kept quiet. Enjoying my twice read book and lime buzz-bar. Lying the candy in the sun light, so as to allow it to soften, I resumed reading. The book in hand was called 'The hobbit'. A story which would take me away from the straight and narrow ways of life. For a moment I would be at Bilbo's side in the battle of five armies. Protecting Thorin and his troop. No battle on earth was ever so glorified, what with shrapnel and land mines. Magic, was all smoke and mirrors my father use to say. There wasn't much room left for argument.
Resting backward the tree trunk cooed. The roots mimicking papa's intellectual voice, and leaves swaying in time to mama's want for home. Their photo's were faded now, and coats long not worn. Sometimes ... just the smell of them, brought back days which I thought were long forgotten. Time had become a theme, blending together like a harmony.
With a gallop of feet and beat of breath. Young bone carvings chipped one against the other. "Hey Ardin!" a voice shouted. Clutching a dirty plastic bag, which squirmed and churned, Maui and Roreana plopped themselves down beside me. Glancing up from page thirty-two, I merely smirked, for rather predictably Maui's face was completely barraged in mud. Maui and Roreana were the children of Mr and Mrs Turangi. Both brother and sister often escaping the formality of Sunday school at the local Marea. I enjoyed their company, I liked how they looked at me. A lot of the local women thought my Aunty and I were best left alone. Perhaps our duely noted theme dinners were to blame or perhaps the bizzare art pieces which peeked out of the garden with a dozen stray cats practically climbing the roof. But honestly, I think it was mostly due to me, I wasn’t exactly the moral niece. But I was home now, and I was happy.
"What have you brought back this time?" I smiled at the children. Rubbing her cheek Roreana snatched the shopping bag from her brother's clutches.
"Hey! I caught em' I wanna show Ardin!" Maui grabbed the plastic handles.
"Nah uh.. it was me! If I hadn't showed you that fishing hole you never would've caught em' in the first place!" Roreana pulled harder, the shopping bag stretching painfully as it was ripped back and forth, back and forth. The poor creatures inside yelling at me to intervene. Yet before I could, the synthetic bag broke it's britches, spilling the contents directly into my lap.
"Buggar!" I cussed bolting to both feet as three yellow bellied eels squirmed in the dry dirt. "They bite!" I screeched, standing upon a protruding maple root. Falling to their backs Maui and Roreana burst into fits of laughter. Ignoring the children’s re-enactment of my ever-changing expression. I turned to watch three poor aquatic blighters gasp for air at my feet.
"Ugly creatures..." I muttered, pushing the larger eel. Well typically, if you push you are going to be pushed back. If only I had possessed the reflexes of a cat, or even a dog, if only to be faster than mine. The creatures attack hurt, well of course it hurt. Yet it was more the sight of some brown-slimy muscle bag hanging from my foot that sent me sick. Squealing like a trapped rabbit, I shook my leg as if a girl-bizarre. The creatures razor teeth, sending my poor skin to shreds.
"Get it off, get it the hell off!" I yelled with a hand gripping the maple tree. Roreana looked some what bewildered as her brother leapt into action like a hero. The small boy, luckily, knowing an old fishing trick. Slamming the heel of his foot upon the offending eels nerve-burdened tail, it recoiled instantly.
I'd watched sheep being bled, the skinning of rabbits and the birthing of calves. Yet now I chose to faint. Like a film, I watched Maui's face pass mine, the maple root coming closer and closer. I never did feel the pain of impact. Nor anything else, as one would think…
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It was dark, that kind of creepy darkness only found in children’s wardrobes. The very air outside my lips, was dry and lacking in dew, unlike rural nightfall. Touching my head the side of it ached, pounded actually. Like an unforgiving hangover induced by one too many Vodka shots. Everything was strained, swirling and stark white within my brain. Sitting up with a moan, I forcfully began to focus.
"Auntie?" I croaked with a sting. "A-ouch... hello?"
Well I can tell you, that what I assumed was my Aunt Beth's bay window was actually the window to a small appliance store. My heart thumped once. 'Right Choice' it read above the door. My heart thumped twice. Yet it was when I saw the street sign that I nigh on convulsed. ‘Baxter Ave’. Believe me there was no Baxter Avenue in Cape Creek, let alone even an Avenue. A bridge perhaps. Digging into the patchy denim of my jeans, the sickly tree above rustled within the path off a cool breeze. Stumbling to both feet, blood broke down to my feet.
"Get a grip..." I exhaled "Oh who am I kidding..." Tears started to well. "Hello?!" Tugging the base of my shirt, goose bumps ran from head to foot. Deserted, not even a cat. Stepping out onto the road, street lamps shone above. The dark and light spots, so damn sharp that I felt as if entering a 1950's comic book.
To the right of the appliance store was an alley-way. At the entrance sat a couple of rubbish tins pressed tightly against the grimy brick wall, while newspapers shifted around in unseen crannies. On the left, there were simply more stores. Tall and overbearing. Quickly, I began to feel very dirty and very ill.
Jumping the curb my bare feet slapped upon the damp concrete. The sound repeating itself like a honing beacon. Skipping a few steps faster, I just wanted to see something, someone, any sign of life. I could hear voices, distant calls like rebellious children and disappointed parents. Gripping myself, leaf litter crushed beneath both feet. Above and beyound the stars shone lightly. A faint strip of moonlight escaping the scattered cloud cover. Staring ahead, I began an unflattering hop skip run, the wind washing into my ears like an intrusive thermometer.
Emerging from around the bend, below the blanket of darkness, two evenly sized men casually strolled. Their faces were obscured in the shadow of overhangs, as were other such features. Chatting away, they remained in their own conversation as I backed toward the path. Their indecipherable yet accented voices carrying down wind.
Breathing heavy, my lungs ached with each and every pulse. Gripping the material of my shirt, green and orange. I stared unblinking as the obstructions above them began to thin, the light splicing into their skin one cut at a time. They were young, nineteen give or take. One was at least six foot the other only slightly shorter. Both had powerful builds, and military style haircuts. Stepping back further they suddenly stopped and the shorter one pointed in my direction. I saw the taller one nod and step off the path.
"Hey!" he flicked his head up "What'd you doing out here sweet?" the American questioned "Bold thing" he stopped and smiled, something evil behind it all. His partner had been advancing slowly, coming at me from the left. Stepping back even further I cussed to an unduly stumble within the gutter.
"Don't" I felt the grass beneath my feet "I just wanna know where I am?" Laughing a little the shorter one, who was wearing some kind of leather jacket, glanced at his partner.
"Easy pickens." The taller one aimed at his silent comrade. My stomach began to cascade, finger tips turning white. "She's mine. You got the last one. Remember."
"Please... I just want some dire-"
"Shud' up..." The shorter one suddenly snapped, grabbing his partners arm as they proceeded to engage in some kind of heated discussion. Clenching my fist I spun on the grass, causing a slick squeak. Shooting back onto the road, I sped across the asphalt, to follow the white line like Dorothy. I could hear shouting but none of it made sense. Failing to even look back I rounded the corner, taking no note to the street name. Grabbing the side of a rubbish tin, it clanged across the road. Spilling its contents out like a mans internal workings. With the crush of plastic and paper it was obvious they were only a few meters behind. Closing my eyes I made for the road up ahead.
"HELP!" I screamed threw the aches. I could feel the wind on my feet, cold, as it caught the blood beneath. Up ahead a car screeched to a halt, it's orange lights blinking as it turned away from me. "No! Somebody! Hel-- ughh!" the wind gushed out of me as an arm inflicted my back, another crushing itself about my stomach. I just went limp for a moment, scared to move. I wanted more air, god give me more air. But the mans arm only tightened across my abdomen. Stepping off the road and in-between the cold walls of two opposing buildings, the shorter one of my pursuers came into view.
"You’re not from around here?" I felt lips brush my ear "Could tell that by just lookin' at you girl" he chuckled a little, the man before me hopping from foot to foot, in anticipation. Closing my eyes I spluttered out a sob.
"Please don't..." I managed threw tears and laboured breaths "Please..."
"Oh I do love that word" He spoke again.
"Hey come on Jason man, I'm starving, let's get on with it eh... we may get another tonight if we hurry" He glanced at his watch, distracted. Throwing back my elbow it connected with some part of the man behind. I don't know if it did damage or not, or if it even hurt, he didn't make a sound. Turning my eyes back ahead, everything went dark. Like a spotlight, I couldn't look away, everything seemed heavier. His eyes, they glimmered in the moonlight, an unnatural colour. It was grotesque, bulging and ridged, I knew his face. I knew what he was. But I couldn't grasp the concept. Things like him didn't happen, they were for camp fires and sleep overs', for movies and best sellers. They were not real!
"They should bottle that" He sniffed the air sniggering. Sweeping the hair from my skin, I felt the inside of my captor’s lip. The run of teeth, sharp teeth, sharper than they should have been. Opening up to scream they both dove in when suddenly a noise rocked the alley. Eggshells was my first thought, yet as his my lungs filled I witnessed the smaller mans reaction. They were not eggshells at all. Hitting the concrete with a thud, dust landed upon my head and inflamed my eyes. I couldn't focus, but heard a small scuffle and the speeding retreat of boots.
"N-no..." I stood up, still rubbing my eyes. Slowly the boots stopped, turned and began to come back toward me. My first instinct was to run, almost tripping over the curb again. Cussing and crying, I hopped along painfully.
"Wait a minute" the boots hastened.
"Help!" I yelled again, trying to run faster. Feeling the weight of a hand snatch me back, I swung around viscously. "letmego letmego!" I screamed, yet everything faltered as two dark eyes looked down at me, unmistakably brooding, unmistakably Angel's?! Or more appropriately David Boreanaz's. Trying to step back, trying to free myself, he released me without warning, causing a brief stumble on my own part.
"Angel?! What, a va..." I touched my head "Boreanaz?" everything went hazy, and as his lips moved I saw nothing more but ... sweet darkness. Often, in perhaps a cartoon or movie. A dream sequence would fill the screen. An array of odd images only upside down or perhaps my childhood all in black. Honestly, there was no such thing and I felt cheated.
I woke with a pang. A slurp of alcohol, the grit of boots, sounds storming me like a wakening dream. I could hear crooning, a singer trembling off key. The atmosphere was muggy like a tent in summer. One with far too many bodies. Cracking open an eye, there was nothing but red vinyl and ash. My nose grazing the back of a built in booth. Lord only knows how long I had been lying there, as again my head pounded, along with a few other stings. Tucking in, the music began to lull and voices decipher. Many voices, male voices, but a certain two felt as if ready to breathe down my neck.
"Listen sweet-cakes she's only human, not that I don’t love the little sprites, but what's the hub-bub?" A man stated camply.
"Don't worry about it...” Angel trailed off rudely “What do you think it means?" He softened.
"Italian" The man hesitated "Or maybe Gorak, but don't quote me on it."
"But who or what is Boreanaz?"
"Not exactly my area Angel-pie." their was a small shuffling, like someone adjusting their weight. "Maybe she knows Wesley? You said she didn't sound from around here" he paused "Mind you, neither are most things"
“Why would she know Wesley Lorne?” Angel contested sourly “Besides she isn’t English.” A cheerless silence lingered for a moment.
"What's wrong brown eyes, you seem moodier than usual?’" Lorne queried with lucid candour. Failing to respond appropriately, Angel continued.
“I'll leave her with Fred” a glass tapped the table "… strange, the one time I was in your area for so long”
“I'll take that as a compliment” Lorne exhibited mock offence.
“Things have really..." a sound of lament passed “This all reminds me of old times. When things were simpler I suppose, or perhaps when people were.” Angel’s voice lulled in despondency.
“It's all gotten rather large hasn't it star.” Lorne agreed. “Indulge me, why you didn’t take our little blonde-waif to the state department?” Angel failed to reply. "Well who knows, maybe she's a satisfied client from the old days. I mean hey, who honestly keeps track of every client they encounter?" I can imagine he smiled "I'm good sugar, but not that good"
"She didn't look satisfied"
"And that muffin is called human nature"
Time became like an ocean, where there was nothing but the sound of boots and speakers. Nonetheless I felt very far away from it all. The blood on my elbows tramping through dust and air, while tiny lights shone down like inflicted halos. It was there within the continuous lapses from awareness to space, that I might have lost it.
Slowly over that period, the music gradually died and glasses gathered for one final time. God almighty, I had never felt so wretched. The idea of a TV reality show had entered my mind briefly, yet would that be legal? Or safe for that matter. But then just how did those men contort their faces the way they did, was it a trick. Smoke and mirriors?
Biting hard, aches swelled in my eyes and chest. Various emotions pulsing like the blood in my ears. Turning slightly I managed to catch a glance of the two men in discussion. They were tall and decently built. Dark hair, Black duster, low brow. Red suit, blue tie... green skin?Touching my lips I stifled back a hiccup and sob. There was no feeling that rivalled being 'unwillingly dependant'. I was in a strange place, with strange men, having no idea how I managed to be in such company. So desperately, I wanted Angel and Lorne to be something other than themselves. Digging my nails into the smooth vinyl of which I lay upon, pain wracked through out.
"Well, sleeping beauty awakens” Flinching to the sudden exclamation, my legs banged into the table. "Safe haven pet" he gestured delicately. "There're no wolves here" I didn't answer, words seemed to ridicule the very tension that raged within.
The room were we stood was dull and sombre. Small lights illuminating the stage and red back drop. Up ahead numerous alcoholic beverages littered the bar, glowing as low-watt blubs burned behind. It was, unmistakably, the set for Caritas. Considering my words, only one question seemed appropriate.
"Who asked you to do this?" Angel shifted uncomfortably, I could see him at the corner of my eye. “How much did they pay you both!”
"Should I get us a drink?” Lorne inquired discourteously. Spinning on both heels I shoved my way threw the only exit available. Rushing along the corridor for ten or so meters, I slowly impeded myself to stop. Shivering a little, the light bulbs flickered with a hiss. The floor was covered in a sort of dusty grit that stung my feet and entered new cuts easily. With a shudder all around, air caught in my throat and plaster fluttered down from the ceiling. The moment past quickly, but not without leaving an unpleasant haze along the passage. One which further dimmed the already considerably dim area.
The word 'fresh' seemed appropriate, or like when a wet hand is said to slap you in the face. That was what coursed down the small stairwell. Greeting me like a mother whom had finally come home. Beneath the open arch stood a shadow. Uncomfortably hunched and dressed in overalls most suited to the All-American janitor, or cleaner as we say back home. I just watched, studied, as the wind blew his hair about like tiny snakes.
"What are you doin’ here?" his voice echoed as if anticipating my hesitation. Widening both eyes, I quickly realised that he was not hunched at all, but merely pushing a diminutive sized cart. Rising to his full height, the shadows became intensely welcoming. Causing me to believe that I may be one of them. With a grit of teeth his huge paw, which could crush a melon, grasped the cart like a child’s' play thing. Lumbering down the grated steps with a grunt to match each thud, he pained he way toward me.
"I-I-" His breath thickened as I spoke.
"You what!" he roared on reaching the ground floor.
"I-I was just escaping the cold. I'm lost." He paused a moment, like a hungry crocodile considering whether to barrel roll.
"Well... escape it somehwheres’ else!" He dropped the cart to the ground, thudding one step closer. Entering the light it cut his massive features brutally, heavy brow and thin eyes, yellow with a pronounced jaw. He was a beast in the kindest sense. A dredlock mane cascading down, as fur covered both hands and feet.
"Ah..." I gulped shakily "Y-yes... yes..." I nodded, making a wide berth around the man or creature as was the case. Bolting up the narrow stairwell, I squinted beneath the streetlights, inhaling and exhaling the largest breath of my life. Hopping from the curb I quickened myself up the middle of the deserted road, making for the bright lights of an intersection up ahead. Nevertheless, just as the street opened and civilisation seemed almost welcoming, a freezing limb enveloped my skin. Gasping from initial fright I squealed and kicked as it held me by the shoulder. "Letmego! I didn't mean to be there! I’m sorry!" Preparing to scream, a familiar voice shattered my preparation.
"Hey!” snapped a man “It’s Angel... from before" I felt his cold fingers loosen slowly. Sighing from relief, anger quickly replaced the thankfulness. Taking the opportunity I fought from his grip, but with little effort. Flashing a glance, and then back down the street again, Angel just stood there... tiredly. I wanted to go home, I wanted to be near the familiar and those who knew my name, and I am sure he did to. "Look I don't want to hurt you." the Vampire sighed, as if he was overly flustered "But I think you're going to hurt yourself"
"Don’t you know how to say hello!” I belatedly yelled “Look” I touched my head “Just drop the performance... Tell me how they did it? The travel and all." Dropping both hands and clenching his jaw, Angel straightened.
"I know people who can help..."
"Don't throw that crap at me Mr. Boreanaz. It's in the bloody script." His face shifted, yet the man didn't answer, he only gestured down the street and began to walk.
"You might want to keep up, we're not alone"
It felt as if we had been walking the streets for hours, yet according to my wrist-watch it had only been twenty-one minutes. Angel didn’t communicate at all, but merely lumbered ahead to pause every thirty or so meters. It was an unsettling thing to observe. I could only imagine that lord knows what, was hiding in the darkened passages. Rubbing my shoulders, parallel giants watched us miserably. However though miserable as they may have been, their windows silhouetted life. Yet what kind of life only they knew. Presently the time was 04:48am.
Trotting up the wide stone steps to a large apartment building, Angel paused beneath the arch. “Pay not to linger there” It was warm in the foyer. The air thick with a strong sanitiser, which itched my throat. Proceeding ahead, I watched Angel from the entrance.
No matter how cold a human may become, their skin will invariably react positively once in contact with another’s. Gesturing lightly Angel waited, cold as ice.
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TBC!
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