Thursday, June 29, 2006

Episode LIX

Carry Hobson's alarm went off at six on Saturday morning, as it did every morning unless she was sick. Carry didn't function well at night, a trait that generally frustrated her boyfriend, who was more likely to stay up past midnight and sleep in until nine or ten if he didn't have to be somewhere earlier. She showered, dressed, and arranged her hair before any of the girls she was staying with were awake. She was just sitting down to breakfast when her friend Laura came into the kitchen, still wearing pajamas.

"Morning," she said.

"Morning," Carry replied. "I made coffee."

"Wonderful." After pouring herself a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, Laura joined her friend at the table.

"Do you have work today?" Carry asked.

"Yeah; I go in at ten. Listen, we need to talk about something."

"What's up?"

"Have you found any job leads?"

"I haven't really been looking yet. I told you, I've got to lay low for a while."

"You make it sound like you're running from the law. No listen," she said as Carry started to interject. "I know you if won't tell me what's going on, there must be a good reason, and I'm fine with that. But as much as I love having you here, we can't keep dividing the rent just three ways all summer. There's another girl who's interested in moving in here, and I need to know what to tell her."

Carry sighed. "You're right; this isn't fair to you. Let me think things through and I'll let you know one way or the other by tomorrow night."

"Fair enough. I hate to put you on the spot like that, it's just that..."

"It's okay; I understand."

They continued eating in silence, trying to project cheerfulness. Carry was about to try and make small talk when the phone rang and Laura answered it.

"Hello? Oh, hi Mrs. Hobson! Yes, she's right here." She covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "It's your mom." Carry pushed back her chair, walked over and took the receiver from her friend.

"Hi Mom."

"Hi sweetie, how are you?"

"I'm fine, just eating breakfast."

"Any plans for the day?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'll probably call and see what Dennis is up to."

"Carry, when are you going to come visit us?"

"Mom, I have some things I've got to--"

"Things to take care of, yes you told us that. But it's been a week since classes let out, and you don't sound like you're too busy. Dennis's parents say they haven't seen him either. What is going on with you two?" There was a long pause as Carry tried to decide how to answer. "Carry? Are you there?"

"I'm here, Mom. Look, I want to tell you what's going on, but it's complicated."

"What do you mean, complicated?"

"Look, it's not what you think. I promise you, I'm not pregnant or anything like that. I just..."

"Just what?"

"I'll call you back tomorrow, okay? And I'll explain things then."

"Why can't you explain now?"

"Please Mom, just trust me on this. You've waited for me for a week; just wait one more day."

"Alright. I'll talk to you tomorrow then."

"Thanks Mom; I love you; bye!"

Laura looked at her from the sink, where she was washing out her cereal bowl. "Are you really going to tell her what's going on, or are you buying time to make up a good story?"

"I don't know," Carry shook her head. "Life is confusing right now."

"You sure you can sort it all out this weekend?"

"I'll figure something out." As her friend left to go take a shower, Carry picked up the phone again and dialed Dennis's new cell. The voicemail message kicked in after the first ring, indicating that it was turned off. He must be doing more detective work, Carry thought. I wish he'd at least leave it on vibrate.

"Hi, this is Dennis Brown's voicemail! After the beep, you'll have thirty seconds to convince me to return your call. Good luck!"

"Dennis, it's Carry. We've got to talk, today. I don't know about you, but I can't keep going like this. Call me as soon as you get this, or better yet come pick me up. I'll be here at the house."

Carry knew that if Dennis was playing the spy he might leave his phone off for hours, so she began doing household chores to pass the time. By the time Laura had left for work, her other two roommates were also gone, and she was running out of ways to keep busy. She checked her email for the fifth time, was unsurprised to find no new messages, and finally took out a drawing pad and started working on some new Enrique cartoons. She had abandoned the web-comic when her life got busier during the previous semester, but now she seemed to have nothing but time.

At the point where she had left off, Enrique had just located and photocopied several top-secret documents, deep inside the Intelligence Building of the United Rodents for World Domination (URWD). He was now setting a Swiss cheese bomb (that is, a cheese bomb manufactured in Switzerland) to explode right about the time he got back outside, providing a distraction while he escaped. Unfortunately, his exit route from the building was being blocked by a janitor rat, who was mopping the floor in the hallway he'd planned on using. The janitor finally put up a "wet floor" sign and left, but before Enrique could run out the door, the bomb exploded.

Carry was in the middle of drawing a cheesy mushroom cloud, when it occurred to her that in the aftermath of escaping from Darth Onion and avoiding campus as much as possible, she had never heard any followup news about the explosion in the chemistry department. Setting the drawing pad down, she went back to the computer and looked for information on a local news site. She found out that this was the third major chemistry-related explosion in the history of the school, but only the first to occur since the department had gotten its own building. Because the accident (if it was an accident) happened after-hours, there weren't many people in the building at the time. Only two students were near the center of the blast: Pam Andrews and Marcia Silverberg. Pam was seriously injured and still recovering at Community General Hospital, but Marcia was miraculously unharmed. One more detail caught Carry's attention. The students who witnessed the explosion gave varying accounts, but all agreed on one point: The light coming from the blast was bright magenta.

Carry tried to tell herself that the whole thing could be a big coincidence, but found that she no longer seriously believed in coincidences. She walked back to the kitchen and dialed Dennis's number again. After the beep she said, "Dennis, it's me again. Something just came up and I've got to drive over the hospital. It's about quarter to twelve now, and I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. If I'm not back at the house when you get this message, look for me there. I'll be visiting a patient named Pam Andrews."

Upon arriving at the hospital, Carry learned that Pam Andrews had only been out of the ICU for a day, but was able to receive visitors. When she got up to the room, she recognized Pam as a girl from her American history class from the fall semester -- a class she had taken from Dr. Pettigrew, as she recalled with a shudder. Of course, that was before she had a reason to dislike him.

"Hi Pam, do you remember me?" She asked, approaching the bed.

"You look familiar. Did we have a government class together?"

"American History with Pettigrew."

"Oh, right. He's kind of a nutcase, isn't he? Running for mayor and everything?"

"You have no idea."

"I don't think I ever really met you before."

"I'm Carry Hobson." She extended her hand.

"Pleased to meet you. It seems like I've heard your name somewhere before."

"I help out with campus theater."

"Maybe that's it. So I guess you saw my name in the paper?"

"Just this morning on the internet. Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about the accident."

"What about it?"

"Well, according to the news story, there was a girl named Marcia Silverberg with you when the explosion happened."

"Yeah; she was my lab partner -- hey, that's where I've heard your name before! Marcia was jealous of your boyfriend or something and kept talking about you!"

"I hope you didn't take anything she said too seriously."

"No." Pam smiled. "When she gets moody the best thing to do is just give her some space and let her rant. She took it pretty hard when her boyfriend broke up with her last year."

"Well, I don't know Marcia directly, but is it true that she walked away from that explosion without a scratch?"

"Yeah; it was amazing! All I remember after walking out of the lab is hearing a loud noise and hitting my head on something; the next thing I knew, I was waking up on a stretcher. Marcia was there and they were asking her questions. I guess she carried me out of the building."

"Did you notice anything -- strange about her?"

"No. Why?"

"I guess it just seems really weird that the same explosion nearly killed you and left her untouched."

"What, you think she's a superhero like in that Bruce Willis movie? What was it called?"

"Unbreakable?"

"Yeah, that's it. Like maybe she can bench press five hundred pounds and shoot lasers from her eyes -- hey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing; that's just a disturbing image."

"Marcia with laser eyes? That would be disturbing. Well, there's nothing to worry about, right? I mean, stuff like that only happens in movies."

"Yeah, nothing to worry about."

"Hey, is that your boyfriend?"

"Carry!" Carry turned around just as Dennis walked up to her. "I just got your messages. Sorry I couldn't come sooner; I was tied up. Not literally," he added in response to her questioning look.

Carry turned back to the bed. "Pam, this is my boyfriend Dennis. Dennis, Pam." They shook hands.

"Are you a friend of Carry's? I don't think I've met you before."

"We just met, actually. She saw my name in the paper and decided to come visit me."

"She was hurt in the explosion in the chemistry building," Carry explained.

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Dennis. "I've been a bit out of the loop as far as news goes the past couple of weeks. Carry, we need to talk. It's important."

"You're telling me we need to talk? Maybe if you'd leave your cell phone on..."

"Right. Um, Pam, it was good to meet you. I hate to run off, but--"

"It's okay. You two lovebirds go have your argument. Give my best to Marcia."

"Marcia Silverberg? What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Dennis."

"But if she knows something about Marcia--"

"I already talked to her. Let's go, okay?"

"Right. We're going. Bye, Pam."

"Bye!"

Dennis and Carry didn't speak again until they got out to the parking lot.

"We need to talk," said Dennis.

"Yes, I think we've established that," said Carry.

"Okay, where? Are the girls you're staying with at home?"

"One of them will be back soon. What about the guys you're staying with?"

"Two of them have the day off. They've been in and out."

"Okay, where to then?"

"We need someplace quiet, private, and with a bit of room to maneuver."

"Room to maneuver?"

"I'll explain when we get there."

"Where?"

"The history department."

"What? We've been avoiding campus to stay away from Pettigrew, and you want to just waltz right into his building?"

"It's a Saturday. He won't be on campus. No one will be in the building except maybe the janitor, and I've still got my classroom key."

Carry blinked. "That's insane, but I think it could work."

"Good. Let's drop your car off at the house, then we'll take my car to campus."

They made it onto campus and into an empty conference room without meeting anyone. "Okay," Dennis began. "You called me first. So what do we need to talk about?"

"Pettigrew or no Pettigrew, we can't keep hiding from our families and we have to get on with our lives." She explained about the conversations with her mother and her roommate. "Even if we could stay where we're at, he'd find us eventually. It just isn't going to work this way."

"My parents keep calling me as well," said Dennis. "My dad knows I'm hiding something from him, and he's not happy about it." He sighed. "So what was the thing about that girl in the hospital and Marcia Silverberg?"

Carry explained her suspicion that "M'Jenta" was really Marcia. "It all fits," she said. "The color of the light, the fact that she didn't get hurt by that explosion, the way she seemed to know both of us and Darth Onion."

"So where'd she get that outfit?"

"Downtown, probably. There's a big costume place where you can find just about anything. They'll even customize outfits. I bet that's where Pettigrew got his getup as well."

"Well, next time I'm close to either Marcia or M'Jenta, I'll pay close attention to their thoughts to try to figure it out for sure. Meanwhile, I may need to visit that costume shop myself."

"Dennis Brown wants to go shopping? This I've got to hear."

"You remember I said we needed maneuvering room? Well, watch this. Bear with me; it takes a lot of concentration." He stood up and moved away from the table, then closed his eyes for a minute or two. Suddenly, he began glowing with white light, and his features were obscured. Carry stopped herself from screaming as his form changed, shrinking down into the shape of an animal. When the light faded, she saw that it was a basset hound. The dog gave a friendly bark and ran up to her, it's tail wagging excitedly. She laughed and patted it on the head. Then it ran back away from her, started glowing again, and changed back into Dennis. "What do you think?" He asked.

"What is it with you and obscure super powers? Pettigrew gets the ability to shoot lightening, and you get the ability to change into a hound dog?"

Dennis laughed. "It's not just the dog. I can change into all sorts of animals. I can do inanimate objects also, but they aren't much fun because I can't see, hear or feel anything. It's like being a disembodied spirit out in space or something. Really hard to judge how much time has passed, too."

"So how'd you get this power? Another cell phone accident?"

"Nope. Bad Italian food at Papa Mario's."

"Really? Can I eat there?"

Dennis glared at her. "Don't even think about it. The same thing that gave me the ability to shapeshift could kill you, just like that explosion almost killed that girl Pam."

"It probably doesn't do either one most of the time, anyway. Otherwise there'd be a whole bunch of shapeshifters running around."

"Not that many. The food is really bad. Anyway, there's something else I should show you."

"Another new trick?"

"No, just a couple of emails. They're both from this guy named Damien Valiant. He says he knows a friend of mine, Hegel Jeremiah, and he wants my help with something involving computer skills. I read the first one earlier this week and wasn't sure what to think about it, then he sent a second one today. He's pretty insistent, but he's not giving any details. Just wants to meet me, preferably in Daze Springs."

"Who's Hegel Jeremiah? Did I ever meet him?"

"Maybe not. He tutored me in math a few times when I was in high school and he was in college. I haven't talked to him in a while; I guess I'll send him an email and ask him about this Damien Valiant guy."

"Sounds good. So what are we going to do about our parents?"

"I think we should tell them the truth."

"They're won't believe us."

"They will when they see me change into a basset hound."

"My mom hates dogs; better make it a cat. But is it safe to tell them? Pettigrew tried to kill you when you found out about him."

"I don't think we have a choice, Carry. Pettigrew might go for our families to get to us anyway."

"So what do we do, just invite everyone together for a barbecue and tell them everything? I don't know if it's a good idea to tell my little sister or my little brothers."

Dennis thought for a few minutes. "I think we should start with just my dad. He's pretty level-headed, and he can help us decide how to proceed from there."

"Okay, when do we tell him?"

"He's not working today. You promised to call your mom tomorrow, and there's no time like the present." He took out his cell phone and dialed his father's cell phone.

"Hello, Dennis?"

"Hi, Dad."

"You know I'm home today; why didn't you call the house number?"

"I wanted to be sure you answered."

"Oh? Are you ready to talk to me about why you've been avoiding us?"

"Dad, I'm really sorry about that. I want to tell you everything."

"I'm listening."

"Look, this is something we -- Carry and I -- need to discuss with you in person. We haven't done anything wrong, but we have a problem and we need advice. Do you think you could come meet us at the history building on the MSU campus? That's where we are right now."

"I thought you quit your T.A. job."

"I did but they, um, never asked for the keys back."

"You just finished telling me you haven't done anything wrong."

"Dad, please. This is important."

"Alright, Dennis. I'll be down there in about twenty minutes. How will I get in the building?"

"Call me when you're outside."

"Okay, I'll see you then."

"Oh, Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I, um, it's just that, well, I'll see you when you get here."

"Okay, bye."

Carry looked at him. "What were you trying to say?" Dennis just looked away as he pocketed the phone.

Twenty minutes later, Mr. Brown pulled into the parking lot closest to the History department at the same time as another car. He was about to take out his cell phone, when he recognized the man getting out as his son's old employer. He quickly got out of his own car and approached the man. "Dr. Pettigrew?"

Pettigrew turned to look at him. "Have we met?"

"Briefly. I'm James Brown, Dennis Brown's father."

"Ah, yes. I remember now; we met at a basketball game."

James Brown nodded. "I understand that Dennis got bogged down with finals and had to quit his T.A. job. I hope it wasn't too much of an inconvenience."

"Not at all. How is Dennis? I haven't seen him since last Monday."

"Actually, that's what I'm here to find out. Dennis asked me to meet him inside."

"He came here?"

"He said he still had his classroom keys. Is he breaking any rules by being here?"

"Ah, no, not precisely. But you say he's inside the building, right now?"

"I'm supposed to call him to let him know I'm here, but I guess you can let me in, right?"

"Well, yes, of course. No need to, ah, call him. I'll unlock the door and you can come right in."

Labels: , , , , ,

Thursday, June 22, 2006

Episode LVIII

Luke's ears woke up before the rest of him. As he lay there subconsciously, he heard a quiet whirring that he couldn't quite place. it sounds familiar; where have I heard that before?

As he became more conscious, he began to analyze the sound, noticing that it would drop in pitch quickly for a short period of time, then return to its original pitch.

Next he tried to recall where he was. His mind distractedly searched his clouded memory: the hospital... The man with the mustache, he had drugged me... Kidnapped me! Luke tried to shout, to scream for help, but his lips refused to move, still under the power of the anesthetic.

Luke calmed himself. What next... what happened next... the vehicle... the struggle... the vast deserted wasteland... What did they call it...? The sand pit... what did that mean?

He felt a tingling in his leg as he heard the whirring drop in pitch again. Good, I'm starting to get sensation back, means I should be able to...

Luke froze as he began to recognize the sound: A drill! It sounded like a giant dentist's drill! What the...? The teen struggled in confusion and disgust. Struggling against the drugs, he forced open his eyes only to wish he hadn't. There before him was the mustached man, wearing a white lab coat which was now splattered with red. Luke gurgled in horror as he realized the sound was not a drill, but a small saw: the red on the coat... that's blood! That's... my...

Luke tried to scream with all his might, but all he heard was a small gurgle, which was barely recognizable as coming from his own throat. The doctor's masked face looked up in shock as he realized his patient was now awake. He reached for a syringe, but the teen was unconscious before the drugs hit his system.

Luke awoke gradually to flashing lights, smoke, and alarms. What's going on?? As he regained motor control, Luke turned his head about, searching for some clue, some sign that would magically inform him of where he was and what was happening: a post-op room, filled with several pieces of large equipment some of which were attached to smaller medical tools, and none of which he recognized... a fire alarm, flashing... a fire?!

Luke sat up completely, feeling the last bit of anesthetic retreat before a wave of adrenaline. Preparing to jump out of the bed, Luke yanked the blanket off of his legs, uncovering a very unexpected sight: his legs, the broken and unbroken were in large cast-like braces from the hip down, with a single joint for his knees: "What the...?" Even though he'd regained feeling to every other part of his body several minutes ago, his legs were still basically sensationless, except for a numb pain in front along the shins, and in back along the calf.

Luke gingerly swung his legs until they toppled off the edge of the bed, reluctantly responding to his commands. Gradually, he lowered himself off the bed, holding onto it carefully for balance and support. Well, I can stand, that's a comfort at least. He glanced down at the casts on his legs no wonder, my legs could be jello and I'd still be able to stand, with as big as these things are.

Luke tried to take a step forward, but, forgetting that his weak legs had to lift the weight of the cast as well as himself, he stumbled forward, tripping over his weighty foot. The teen fell to his knees, feeling a surprising shock of pain shoot up from his legs on the impact: Well, at least I know they're still there...

Pulling on the bed, Luke forcefully lifted himself to his feet, and was about to try again when he saw a figure in the doorway a few feet away. Not again, I'm getting sick of being drugged! Luke reached for a sharp instrument lying nearby, still unsure of what it was he was grabbing, but determined to defend himself. But before he could even touch his sole defense, his hand was clasped in a grip that made his fingers go limp with pain. He trembled with absolute dread, waiting for the familiar needle, but was surprised instead to hear a quiet voice behind him: "You won't be needing that..." It was a woman's voice, no, a girl's voice.

Luke twisted his torso and glanced over his shoulder to look into the face of a teenage girl, not much younger than himself, but with an expression that was far more mature than himself. Luke breathed in relief as she released his hand and smiled, this time clasping his hand in a handshake.

"The name's Sarah!"

"Luke..." he stumbled.

Suddenly the smile disappeared from her face, and was again replaced by that look of painful knowledge. "We gotta go, no telling how long before they get up here..."

She turned and began to walk out, as if she assumed Luke was right behind her. Luke hobbled around to face the door, "Wait!"

Sarah spun, staring at him in disbelief, "What is it?!"

Luke stammered, surprised at the impatient tone, "I uh, I..." gesturing to his legs, "I can't really walk all that well..."

The girl nodded her head knowingly and returned to his side. Though she was probably younger than him, he noticed that she was at least a half an inch taller than him. Reaching under his arms she began to stabilize him, reminding him of those war films where wounded soldiers were aided off the battlefield. "Now walk!" Though firm, the command seemed reassuring and empowering.

Luke took a step forward, again tripping over his bulky cast. This time, however, the girl kept him from falling, catching his weight so completely he wondered at how she could do it. Luke took another step, this time much slower, balancing his weight toward the girl as he lifted his heavy boot... "Bend the knee!" Luke bent his knee and found it much easier to get his leg off the ground, not at all like he would expect with a normal cast. Stepping forward his successfully placed his foot, and transferred his weight to begin again.

They continued slowly like this, slightly increasing their pace as Luke began to get the hang of it, and as Sarah's impatience began to show through. Luke glanced at her: this was not a normal impatience as she tried to convey... this was a fearful impatience, like a person seeing their only chance for survival slip away... Or more of, limp away...

Luke stumbled again, this time Sarah lifted his frame and kicked his foot into position, "Pay attention!"

As they worked their way into the hall, Luke wanted to look around, but instead committed himself to his feet. Sarah guided him down the hall, oblivious of the smoke and noise, obviously intent upon her goal. Suddenly she stopped him. "What is it?" He shouted, trying to be heard above the din of the alarms.

"Quiet!" She hissed, glancing about in frustration. Suddenly she swung him sideways, setting him harshly against the wall.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"I said quiet!" Looking down at him she reached into her ill-fitting jumpsuit and pulled out two small pistols. This was the first time he noticed what she was wearing: a blue-black jumpsuit that looked about two sizes two big, with a yellow 'GL' embroidered on the right shoulder.

Realizing that he himself was wearing only a hospital gown, Luke quickly positioned himself into as modest a seating position as possible, given his bulky casts.

"Here!" Luke looked up just in time to see one of the small pistols land in his lap. Luke quickly grabbed the gun in wonder, realizing that it was not a pistol as he expected, but rather a tranquilizer gun. "Where'd you get this," he hissed in wonder.

"The same place I got the jumpsuit..." Luke looked up just in time to see her disappear into the mist, pulling something else out of her costume.


That's funny... Luke took a deep breath to confirm his suspicion: this isn't smoke... it's steam of some sort, like a smoke machine would make!

Suddenly, Luke heard the ding of an elevator, and strained to see what he hoped was his escape route. So that's where she was go... Luke heard shouts of confusion accompanied by the sound of bodies striking the ground and the blue flick of a taser.

Luke glanced around, looking for something he could use to lift himself off the ground. That was when he noticed it: tucked into the side of his left cast was a small syringe. Grabbing the container, he noticed that it was filled with a green liquid, something that was in no way biological, and likely not even medicinal. Luke thought back to when he first awoke: I don't remember seeing it when I looked at my casts...; the failed walking attempt... the figure in the door... the painful grip on the wrist...

There... that must be it... she must have slipped it into my cast when I was distracted about my hand...

Luke examined the gun: five shots, should be enough... for what?... for them?... for her?...

Labels:

Thursday, June 15, 2006

Episode LVII

Finals are over.

The past weekend had left Dennis's brain and body completely shot. After the incident with Darth Onion, he had quit his job as Dr. Pettigrew’s assistant and managed to avoid him for the rest of finals. He had decided that the best way for him to recover and for him and Carry to stay safe was to be out of sight. It hadn't been hard to convince his girlfriend that she needed to avoid regular hangouts.

* * *
Thursday morning

Dennis had been doing some work on his laptop and researching anything he could find about gangs in the city. Well, he thought to himself, I guess there aren't very many technologically advanced gang members. The few pages he could find didn't have much information on the gangs. They contained little more than the creed of the gang and other non-relevant things. He also noticed that they didn't seem to have been updated for a while. As for a list of members, that was completely out of the question. Apparently they were at least that smart, he concluded. I don't know what I expected anyway, a home address and the latest crimes committed by each member, perhaps?

He'd opened that e-mail from whoever Damien Valiant was and glanced over it just to be sure it wasn't something he needed to see.


Hey,
I'm a friend of Hegel Jeremiah's and I was wondering if I could meet with you sometime, Maybe over lunch or a doughnut or something? I have a piece of equipment I'd like to ask you about. I think it might be kind of interesting for you too. I'll be talking to you.

~ Damien Valient


Dennis wasn't sure what he thought about that. He'd have to find out a little more about this Damien character before having anything to do with him. Having the ability to read minds didn't exactly make everyone like him. Especially certain ones, he thought to himself.


* * *

Later the next day.....

Realizing that computer skills can only go so far, Dennis decided he'd better do a little groundwork if he didn't want to move to another city and change his name, which he most certainly didn't. Donning a hat, sunglasses and a rather large coat, he took off to find out more about Dr. Pettigrew. He had decided earlier that his best chances for figuring out what exactly was going on was to find out about the prof. himself, since he didn't seem to do too well finding information online.

He pulled up to The Brother's Coffee shop, a favorite hangout for certain members of the academic community. Not knowing whether Pettigrew had ever been in there, Dennis was hoping to get a little more information from some of his colleagues. Slipping inside, he noticed another MSU professor who hadn't taught any classes that Dennis had taken. Perfect, he thought. Someone who won't recognize me but might still be able to help. Approaching the man’s table, he sat down.

"Excuse me, can I get you something to drink?" Dennis asked right off the bat.

"Um...."

Oh, that was smooth all right, he thought to himself, noticing that the guy already had a a coffee and a doughnut. Launching right into what he wanted to know seemed to be the best way to save a rather uncomfortable situation.

"Actually, I was wondering: do you know anything about a Professor Pettigrew? I'm looking on doing an article about some of the things he's been publishing and I would really like to learn a little more about him." Dennis didn't know if his prof had actually been writing anything, but he figured that was the easiest way to make the best of the situation. He hoped that the man didn't know Pettigrew well enough to call his bluff. Luckily for Dennis it seemed to go over well. He sensed the man's thoughts and heard him make the decision to tell him a little bit.


* * *

Well, that wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, thought Dennis as he walked down the street looking for a good place to eat. It was getting late in the day and he wanted to catch dinner before heading back to the house. About half an hour later he was getting pretty exasperated. The only thing he'd seen was a little dingy Italian restaurant about two blocks back. Well, I don't want to be a burden to the people I'm staying with, so I'd better eat here. Though it looks almost as if I'd be better off not eating dinner at all, he thought grimly. He walked in and ordered a large portion of lasagna anyway. After finishing it, he left and retired to his home away from home.

As he entered his room he emptied his pockets and kicked off his shoes. No sooner had he flipped on the light switch, than he collapsed on the floor, unconscious.

* * *

"That's pretty much all that happened," a gang member finished in a dark storehouse somewhere deep in the bowels of the great Mammoth City.

"So you poisoned his food with some kind of poison you've never heard of and you couldn't even think clearly enough to follow it up by seeing what happened?!" The dark-cloaked man asked, making the henchman start crying almost spontaneously.

"We barely even got it in the food! You wouldn't believe how protective of the kitchen they were in that stupid little restaurant!" Squeaked the excited henchman.

"And the cook was probably 350 pounds, not counting the fact that he had a cleaver at hand!" Another underling whined.

"Well, see what you can do about the situation anyway. I want you to find out what happened and find out now!" The gang lord named Onion sent the henchmen scrambling for fear of their lives.

Ah yes, this is how it was meant to be. Me with power over gangs only imagined by their so-called leaders. Had I been a Sith emperor it could have only been a slight improvement in the situation. He reveled in the small pleasure of making each and every slimeball that served him fear for his measly insignificant life. Onion reveled in this, although the irony was that his so-called insignificant minions were the source of over half of his collective power and influence in the large, ever-spreading metropolis.

* * *

While the dark forces of evil worked at their inner problems, a certain college student's body was undergoing it’s own amazing inner reconstruction at an amazing pace. Unfortunately for the henchman who had tried to do away with Dennis, he had swiped something from a medical truck to put Dennis's food that looked deadly enough but had a far different effect than what he expected. As Dennis laid there on the floor of his room his skin began to glow dimly and then brighter and brighter till it passed and Dennis awoke, somewhat sickly looking.

* * *
One more day has passed.

Darth Onion was suddenly disturbed by a messenger.

"Excuse me sir! I have urgent news."

"Just tell me," sighed Onion with his usual distaste for anyone and everyone.

"Just this: they've found the person you were looking for and he's currently at Foyer and Reed Blvd. and moving north."

After a quick moment, Onion replied with orders. "Have my main man assemble a strike group to take him captive. Make certain that there are enough people. He's a slippery character, and above all make certain there are NO mistakes! Did you get that?"

"Yes, yes, I'll go now?"

"Yes, now!" Onion gestured hurriedly. "We need to get him immediately... Oh! And one more thing, tell him to capture the target at all costs, do not spare any firepower and tell him not to worry about it being seen. Only that he must avoid getting caught."

"Yessir!"

* * *

Dennis walked up the street thinking about what had happened. He couldn’t remember anything after the moment he had gotten home. He'd woken up on the floor later with the feeling that something had changed and that he was somehow different. But maybe that was just an after-effect of the food poisoning he'd gotten from eating at the run-down restaurant. Definitely should have avoided eating till I got back, Dennis rebuked himself. I still don't feel quite right. Maybe this exercise will help.

He had been walking for about an hour already; not feeling too bad, and ready for more exercise, he kept on going. The day had become warmer. Forgetting his disguise, he took off his coat, glasses and hat and carried them under his arm. He continued walking.

About 20 minutes later.

"Hey!!" Somebody called out. Dennis ignored it and kept walking.

Suddenly out of a nearby alleyway; "Hey somebody help!!" Dennis stopped and turned back. Peering into the alleyway, he heard a muffled scream echo out, accompanied by sounds of a struggle. He hurried down the alleyway a little further.

"Help!" It came again, a little quieter this time.

Dennis slowed as he neared a corner in the brick walled dingy alley and thought about what to do. What am I doing?! This could be really dangerous! But there could be someone in danger! He battled his uncertainty. Wishing he were small enough to peek around the raw brick corner without being noticed, Dennis hurriedly thought about what would possibly be the best action, and the safest.

Suddenly the world around him became grey! The colors skewed and snapped out of existence! The ground rushed up at him and he found himself going down on his hands and knees. But, they weren't his hands! He felt his weight shift to all fours and the bricks in the walls and pieces of trash grew to his size. Looking down, he saw paws, not hands! Mouse paws! His heart began to beat quicker and quicker as he realized what had happened.

I've changed into a rodent?? Yeah, there was definitely something wrong with that food I ate. Well, now I can peek around the corner I guess. He scurried and took a glance around a paper cup. There were four or five towering humans around the corner with various weapons. He ducked back again. It was a trap! I should have known; this is Dr. Pettigrew's doing. I'd better get out of here and figure out what to do about this.... condition But then, as quickly as the colors had faded away and his vision had changed it returned and he grew again to his original size and shape. His heart still pounded wildly as he stumbled from the alleyway with a heavy sweat breaking out on his brow and he nearly tripped on the way out.

"Hey! You all right? It's getting warmer out all right, but it ain't that warm!" Dennis was just a little tongue-tied at that moment and dashed off crazily, without a glance back.

Probably some addict getting a fix,
the at-first concerned man thought disgustedly.

Labels: , , ,

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Episode LV

Peace and quiet.

Ok, so running a resort didn't normally give Marla that, but she made sure her quarters were far enough away that the general noise didn't reach her. And her staff knew that when she was in there with the door closed after hours, she was only to be reached in an emergency.

Since getting out of the hospital, Marla had been taking it easy, letting her employees do most of the work and hiding out in her room. And she was definitely leaving the monster to someone else. There was no reason that she had to fight him. If he were willing to leave her alone, she'd do the same.

The peace and quiet was shattered on the third day, however. The bad news came in the form of a phone call.

"Marla, it's Jane Harper from Witness Protection Services."

Marla groaned to herself. Everytime Jane called, it was always bad news.

Jane continued uninterrupted. "Someone has been poking around asking about you."

The smile that had been on her face froze. "What?!"

"So far, it's just been local. Your friends, the resort. Basically, your life in the last 25 years. We think it's connected to the attack that sent you to the hospital, but we aren't sure."

"So this person is no closer to finding out about my past."

"We don't think so, but there's more. The gangs in Mammoth City are behaving differently. Most of them are working together, including the two you testified against all those years ago. Somehow, this increased cooperation might have revealed a detail or two about you. We're still looking into the possibility."

"So what do I do? Is it time to move?"

"Not yet. We want to figure out what is going on. But we need to protect you. We'll be sending you two agents to work undercover, help protect you, and figure out what if any danger you are in. Agent Evan Evans will be checking in for an extended stay as a guest and Agent Molly Murphy will be a new employee of the resort. They will arrive separately in the morning. Will there be any problem?"

"N-no."

Jane barreled on. "Good. They will be available any time if you need to get in touch with us or are in any danger. You are to keep a low profile until we figure this out. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Good. We think this will blow over in a few weeks. Don’t worry."

And with that, Jane was gone.

Despite Jane’s parting line, Marla spent the night worrying about the phone call. She had always known in the back of her mind that her secret might come out and she'd have to move and take on a new identity again. But after so long, she become to think that she was safe from her past. Now here it was again causing problems in her life. Maybe. Either way, someone poking around wasn't good news. Despite Jane's order, she'd have to investigate. And she had her superhuman strength to help in an emergency. She wasn't the helpless woman she had been when she became Marla Stewart.

But there was something even more troubling that played through Marla's mind as she finally drifted off to sleep. What kind of parent names their son Evan Evans?

Labels: