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So… this whole “wordy writing” thing isn’t working out all that well for me.  I just seem to feel too cramped in my creativity.  Well, more cramped than I wanted to be.   I think the idea is good, and I will probably continue to work on them a bit.  But it’s not what I’m going for. 

 

My proposal to you, those of you who read this, is this:  I enjoyed recieving a picture-  no caption, no background on it- and creating a story to go along with it.  I would like you guys to send me a photo you think would make an interesting story.  I prefer not to know anything about the photo.    You can email them to me at thaydra@hotmail.com .   Put “Photo Writing” in the subject line so I know what it is. 

 

Thanks!

     Susan had gotten use to the comings and goings of various construction workers and landscaping persons at the old house across the street over the weeks.  She had watched with interest as the house was transformed from the old, dwindling wreck it had been, into a lush, inviting home.  The roof and siding were redone, the lawn reseeded, and flowers and shrubs put in.  New, updated windows had been installed, and the house was lovely and alive again. 

 

   It wasn’t until a moving van arrived while she was outside pruning her own rose bushes one morning that she stood up and really paid attention again.  Moving guys jumped out of the truck and threw open the back door, exposing loads of gingerly wrapped furniture, which they immediately began unloading onto the front lawn.  Soon after they started, a taxi pulled up alongside the curb, and out stepped a petite, old woman.  She walked slowly with a cane, but her ease of pace seemed not to be due to any physical ailment, but rather to her attention being diverted to admiring her house as she approached. 

   Susan continued to watch the excitement (exciting to her, at least) across the street while she half pretended to prune her roses.  One of the men hustled over to the woman and offered to help her up the walkway.  Susan smiled as the woman politely waved off the offer, and instead handed the man her house keys to go ahead and open up the house so they could begin bringing the items inside.   The man dashed up the path and opened the house up, holding the door ajar as the woman passed inside.   Then the two men began the task of bringing all the woman’s belongings into her new residence. 

   Susan stood up and went back inside to wash her hands and tidy herself up a bit.  She then walked across the street and up to the front door.  She saw the old woman in the living room, surveying the area and deciding where to put the boxes of stuff, all neatly marked “Dishes” or “Linens” or “Bathroom”.  The furniture still had the plastic on it, and the breeze coming in through the open doors and windows made them rustle a bit.  Susan knocked lightly on the door, and the woman looked up startled at her, before breaking into a sweet smile. 

 

  “Hello, I’m Susan.” she said, extending her hand to the lady.  “I live in the house across from you.”  She gestured over to her own manicured yard.  “I just wanted to come over and welcome you to the neighborhood.”

  “Well, hello dear!” the woman exclaimed, taking her hand and giving it a well-gripped shake.  “And thank you kindly.  My name is Gladys.” 

  Susan almost blushed a bit.  ” I thought so.” she said, continuing on quickly when she saw Gladys’s confused look.  “I’m Dorothy’s great granddaughter.”  she explained.

 

  Gladys seemed a bit taken aback by that.  Her eyes widened a bit, and her small mouth even dropped some.  Susan had to stifle a giggle at the text-book startle reaction.  At that moment, one of the movers came in with what appeared to be a rather heavy box, and asked Gladys where it went, since it seemed to be unmarked.  She shook her head, and inspected the box, before telling him to go ahead and just set it in the family room. 

 

  Gladys returned to Susan, who had stepped out onto the lawn to be out of the way.   “I apologize dear, if I seemed startled.  Quite frankly, I was.”  she said.  “Dorothy has not spoken to me in many, many years.  I am surprised you know my name.’

  “Well, grandma has been ill.  I’m sure you are aware of the trauma she suffered after the … incident.. here.”  Susan stopped and looked up at the house, grimacing at the pain her great grandmother, and Gladys as well, had to go through in this place.  The house even seemed to darken a bit at the mention of it. 

  “Yes.” said Gladys, her voice dropping down to an almost whisper.  “That night is one I will never, ever forget.  Even if I become stricken with Alzheimer’s I don’t think I’ll forget that.” she said.  She too, stared at the house.

 

  “Her doctors try to get her to face that night, but she doesn’t budge.   Even after all these years, and all her medications, she still insists in demons and devils, and the fact that her own hand held the knife- well, she just can’t seem to forgive herself for that. “  said Susan.  “It didn’t help her when my mom bought the house across the road there, or when I got pregnant with my second daughter, Elizabeth.” 

 

  At the mention of Elizabeth, Gladys looked up sharply.  “You had another daughter?”  she asked, almost brusquely. 

 

  “Why, yes.”  said Susan, a bit taken aback.  “Elizabeth is 5 now.” 

 

  “Forgive me, again, dear heart.” said Susan, softening.  “It’s just, I was best friends with Dorothy, and I know your family’s heritage.  Alice was a “freak” of nature, so they said.  I can see how your dear daughter’s arrival would send Dorothy back downwards again.”  She patted Susan kindly on the shoulder.  “If you don’t mind my asking,” she went on carefully, “is she…. ok?”

 

  Susan looked at Gladys for a long time before replying.  She felt so comfortable with her, as if she’d known her forever.  Yet, she was realistic too, and protective of her youngest daughter.  “She is okay so far.”  she said, smiling brightly. 

 

 Gladys patted her on the shoulder and smiled in return.  “Then that is just fantastic, isn’t it?” she said.  “Would you like to come in for some tea?  I’m sure they’ve brought my tea supplies in already.”  Susan agreed, and spent an hour or so visiting with Gladys, talking about her older daughter, Victoria, who was 10 and becoming a young lady already.  About grandma and how she was doing, and her reactions to the work being done on the house again.  “It took the doctors awhile to calm her down.” she said of when Dorothy first heard the news.  “And when she came to stay with me the weekend the renovations first started, all she did was sit in the window drinking her coffee and staring across the street at the work.  If I hadn’t known about her history with the house, I would have sworn she was watching the cute construction workers.” 

  Susan looked up from her morning coffee and paper to see what was going on outside her kitchen window.   A van had pulled up to the old, neglected house across the street- the one all the rumors surrounding her family centered on.  Growing up across the street from it, she has always loved looking at it, imagining what it must have looked like when it was still maintained.  Now, it had the drooping, weathered look of  long abandonment, complete with the ivy that grew up its sides and the overgrown grass in the front yard.  The windows looked like tired eyes that just wanted to sleep.  She had heard of people who tried to buy the property and at one point the county had tried to have it torn down,   The owner of it – an old friend of Susan’s great, great,  grandmother- refused to sell. 

 

  Now Susan watched as a handful of landscapers jumped out of the van and began pulling out various equipment.  The sound of a lawnmower being started up reached her ears and she noticed one of the men starting to mow the lawn.  She took her cup of coffee outside, leaving the paper forgotten on the kitchen table, and sat on the porch swing to watch the beginning transformation to the outside of the house. 

  Grandma Dorothy had suffered great trauma in losing her sister at that house, and throughout all of her rantings, she always insisted that she be told if activity started up at the house again.  Picking up the phone,  Susan stopped briefly to debate whether telling Grandma Dorothy was the best thing to do.  Instead she dialed the number to Dorothy’s doctor. The brisk, high pitched voice answered.  “Dr. Christensen”, it said.

“Good morning, Dr. Christensen, this is Susan Rochester.”

“Yes, Ms. Dorothy’s granddaughter. What can I do for you?” he replied. Dr. Christensen was a small, high-strung man who spoke very quickly and was always moving. While he was always pleasant, he also seemed somehow off-kilter. Susan sometimes wondered if he related so well to his patients because he was one of them- just undiagnosed.

“Well, Grandma always insists that I tell her if any activity starts up at “the house”, and well, a van of landscapers are there cleaning up the yard now. I figured I should tell you first, and see what you think.” Susan explained.

Susan could hear him sit back and the tapping of what might have been a pen or pencil on his desk. “Is there someone moving in, or just working the yard?” he asked.

“From what I can tell, just the yard.” she said.

“Hmph.. it could well be someone decided the place could at least look nicer. I wouldn’t worry her about it for just that, Ms. Rochester.” the doctor said.

Susan felt her cheeks redden slightly at what she took as a bit of an insult. “I wouldn’t, Doctor” she said, “but Grandma is scheduled to visit this weekend, and I’m not sure if she shouldn’t be forewarned that there has been some activity over there.”

“Ahh.. that is right. I had forgotten. Of course, of course. I will bring it up to her before she comes out.” he said, hastily.

“Thank you, Doctor.” said Susan.

  She hung up as the workers began setting up the ladders to pull down the ivy.   Finishing up her coffee, she reluctantly went back inside to her home office to get some work done.

 

  After the occurrence at the house just under a hundred years prior, Dorothy had been committed to a mental hospital.  She had lost her sanity and blubbered on about how the devil had made her kill her sister.  When the other three women were interviewed, they told about how a man dressed in a devil suit had brought young Alice to their house, and had then tried to rob and assault them.  They told the police that Dorothy had grabbed a knife when the man threatened Alice, and the devil man had overpowered Dorothy, causing her to instead hurt Alice.  The man had then fled.   

People at the festival remembered seeing the man dressed in the devil outfit, and remembered him handing out balloons.  No one knew who the man behind the mask was, and all avenues of finding him turned up nothing.  The girls’  mother left town quietly one day shortly after the incident, and no one ever heard from her again.  Rumors circled that their mother was having an affair with this devil man and had convinced him to get rid of her daughters.  This wasn’t the truth, but many of the townsfolk believed it to be true.   Their father wound up committing suicide later on that year.

  Grandma Dorothy had gotten out of the hospital a few years later, and ended up getting married and having a daughter of her own.  Her mental state was continually questioned and watched, as she remained horribly fearful and overprotective.  She insisted that there was a demon out to kill her, and that the Devil wanted her family dead.  However, after awhile she was able to keep these outbursts under control, and she just became wacky ol’ Grandma Dorothy.   

Susan’s mother, a product of the 60’s and 70’s and definately a flower child experimenting with all there was to experiment with, had actually ventured into the house during one particular acid trip.  She had come back with stories of writing on the walls, and the feeling that something lived within the house itself.  It was this experience that enticed Susan’s mother to purchase the house across the street from the place, as she became obsessed with the house.  Susan had often heard her mother tell stories of the house, until Grandma Dorothy wound up once again in the mental hospital for a couple weeks with another breakdown. 

  Susan had inherited the house after her mother passed away from cancer two years ago, when Susan was pregnant with her second child.  The second pregnancy sent Grandma Dorothy into a downward spiral.  She wound up once again in the mental institution, and this time seemed content to just stay there.

***************CHAPTER TWO**************

 

    Having gotten herself situated up in the attic space, Lori lie there with thoughts racing through her mind, and her heart beat keeping pace.  The dust and debris in the attic had caused her to have quite a sneezing attack for the first few minutes.  This scared her, since it was something she had not thought about, and she feared someone would hear her.  However, the sneezing subsided, and she was able to calm her breathing and her heartrate down, and relax her body, if not her mind.  She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the downstairs.  It had become eerily quiet.  She could hear the abandonment of the building.  Her only neighbors now were the rats, birds, and whatever other animal lived here beneath the surfaces.  Every now and then she would hear the scuttling of one of them around her.  Nothing came and touched her though, which she was thankful for.  She wasn’t one afraid of the dark, but this was above and beyond ordinary, in many aspects of the word.

 

   At some point in time, Lori feel asleep.  At least into a deep doze.  She awoke to the area being quite a few degrees cooler.   She kept very still, straining to hear around her.  Finally it came again-  the sound of boots and knocking.  Distant- perhaps on the second story of the building.   Slowly, so as not to make a sound, she twisted herself around so that she could put her ear to the floor.  Breathing as softly and slowly as she could,  Lori listened.   There were voices -  Men caterwauling through the hallways, looking for anyone left behind.  They must be on her floor now, for she could hear doors being thrown open, belongings being riffled through as hiding spots were searched.  She could hear the bantering being passed between the men, and the sound of rifles being shifted. 

 

  Finally she heard her own door being tried.  She had locked it, and one of the men pounded on it with what sounded like the butt of his gun- a pointless knock.   A few moments later, she heard the bang and splinter as her front door was bashed in.  The men entered, calling out for anyone who was there.  They explained that they were there to escort anyone down to the school.  She could hear as they searched her small one bedroom apartment.   One of the men pressed the “play” button on her answering machine, and Lori had to smile to herself at her wit.  She heard her message played in the living room.  One of the men said something about habits of locking doors, and another laughed that she probably took her purse too.  She could hear them rifling through her belongings, heard as her furniture was moved around.  She caught her breath as she heard them in her room.  Her bed was up-heaved and looked beneath.  She froze as they entered the closet, poking around in her stuff.  Her heart raced so fast she thought it impossible that they could not hear it below, as if it were the heart from Poe’s classic tale.  

 

  As quickly as they had come, they were upruptly gone.   Stiff with disbelief,   Lori felt her muscles suddenly give, and she collapsed back to the floor of her hiding space.  She had not even realized that she had been holding herself so.   Lying in the dust, she was relieved and frightened.  She shivered with the tremors she could now let undulate through her, more from the fear than the cold that chilled her.   She listened as they went through the last remaining apartment, and then as they stomped back down the stairs and out the building- presumably onto the next. 

 

 

 ************************

 

  Lori spent the next couple of days up in the attic, listening as men moved through the building a couple times per day.  She spent much of her time sleeping, waking from horrible nightmares of hands reaching through her entryway and grabbing her.  Once she feared she had woken herself screaming, and lie in a cold sweat waiting to see if her dream brought upon it’s reality.  She was lucky though, as it seemed no one was in the building at the time.  She consumed her water and food in rations, be careful to be as quiet as possible.  Her lack of movement made her hunger easier to bear, but her thirst seemed to be unquenchable.  She would do small circles with her feet and wrists, and small leg and arm lifts, to keep her blood moving.  How she would keep herself occupied was one thing she hadn’t thought of, and she really wished she had at least brought a book with her.  However, since she was afraid to use the flashlight for fear that it would be seen, even though the light in her closet was still on, so how someone would see it she didn’t know. 

 

  It must have been her fourth or fifth day that she realized she hadn’t heard anyone come through the apartment complex in some time.  She had been lying there thinking that she should write all this stuff down, so that there would be a record of it should anything happen to her.  It was the realization that she badly needed to use the restroom that gave her the courage to venture a peek. She carefully let down the access panel a smidge so she could peek through.  The light of her closet bulb hurt her eyes. Peering beyond it, she saw that it was daylight outside.   She listened intently, and could hear no sounds, other than her television.  Apparently the cable had gone out, for it was just a distinct hum of the blank screen.  That, and her refrigerator.  She let the panel drop, and stuck out her head.  She was fearful of coming out to use the restroom.  Afraid of quite literally getting caught with her pants down.  But her bladder was relentless in it’s demand to be released.  She was quite surprised that she had been able to go this long without having to relieve herself.  Yet another thing she had not had the foresight to plan for- not that there was much that could be done about it. 

 

  She sat for some time debating, and listening.  Finally she decided to just do it, and she slid herself out of the attic.  Rushing for the bathroom, she did her duty, debating on flushing, and then just doing so anyways.  She was a bit shocked and concern at her sudden disregard for safety.  But then, some matters just push a person over that line I suppose.   Since she was out, and there was obviously no one present at the moment, she decided to let her legs have a bit of a stretch, and she wandered around the apartment, gazing out the windows -being sure to keep herself at a distance from them to avoid being seen by anyone outside.  She supposed there could be someone out there with a telescope that would see her there, but then, if someone was that desperate to be directly looking into apartments with a telescope by this time, there was no way she could go on without ever being detected anyway.  She wasn’t going to be able to live the rest of her life stuffed away in that attic space! 

 

  Outside was just eerie.   The lack of movement at the middle of the day was almost ethereal.  The cars lined the roads and parking lots as usual.  The street light at the corner of her road still went through it’s red, yellow and green cycle, but no automobiles or pedestrians were there to stop or go.  She was reminded of the movies she had seen of zombies and such.  She wondered if that’s what was out there, waiting for her to show herself so they could munch on her fleshy parts and thus turn her into one of them.  Shivering, she moved away from the window and looked around her apartment.  The only thing she saw out of place was her bed, which had been upended when the soldiers had originally entered her apartment to look for people.  Other than that, the rest could have easily been done by herself.  Wondering how often they would still be checking, and for how long, and just what they were keeping tabs on, she wandered into the kitchen and rummaged through her fridge.  She took a long swallow straight from the milk carton.  She had never been much of a straight milk drinker, saving that mostly for her cereal and for cooking, but that was the best stuff she had tasted in eons right there.  Thick and cold, it made her stomach roar with hunger.  She took another quick look outside, and saw nothing but the sun reflecting off the windshields, so she made herself a quick sandwich.  Gobbling it down, she decided she best not push her luck, and decided to go back into her hiding spot just in case.  This time, however, she went to a bookshelf, and grabbed a long-time favorite book, and took it with her. 

 

Lori’s days went much like that for the next week.  In that entire week, she heard nor saw another person moving through the town, much less her apartment complex.  She designed that they must have moved on, and that she was probably for the most part in the clear.  Not wanting to be over-optimistic though, she still would not turn on any lights, and once night fell, made sure to keep clear of the light from the television lest someone see her moving around in there.  She also made sure to move quietly, and her ears became adept at hearing the slightest noises that differed from the norm around her place.  She even ventured a shower once or twice, keeping them very quick.  She wondered sometimes if anyone would notice the use of water, but decided she would hear them coming long before they got to her apartment, and would have time to pull herself back into her hidey hole.  Since the soldiers had busted down her door, anyone could come in and use her facilities. 

 

It was at the end of that second week that the fire came.  Lori had no idea what started it, or where it came from, other than it came from the south side of the town.  She smelled it first, and heard it second.  Looking out her window, she saw the blaze roaring stories high, uninhibited.  Since there were no more fire trucks in town, she knew it was only a matter of time before it got to her place.  Deciding it was time to move out, she grabbed the bag she had already had packed, and then threw more things into a large hiking backpack she had for those summer weekends when she went on hikes.  She even had her sleeping bag and camping essentials already packed inside.   Grabbing more food and water, clothes and a couple more flashlights and books, she gingerly left the comfort of her apartment.  She poked her head in to the few apartments she passed, and gently called out the names of her neighbors, knowing full well that they had gone to the high school.  When she got to the first floor, she remembered old Mr. Andlers, and went over to his apartment to see if he was there.  His door was ajar, and his wheelchair was askew out in the hallway in front of his door.  She went into his apartment, and found it a complete mess.  It looked as though he had been robbed, the way everything was strewn about the room.  A robbery that had been interrupted and gone very wrong.  She called out his name, but heard nothing in return.  She backed out the way she came, and headed out into the streets. 

  Lori crawled through the doggie door of the house she had taken up residence in.   Her nostrils still burnt with the smell of torched bodies and burning debris.  She had thought that time would make the stench go away, but it hadn’t.  Not even after a month.  She surveyed the little corner of town she was in.  Burned out shells of cars sat cockeyed in the streets.  Buildings were broken and torched.  The fires had consumed just about everything their tongues could lick in the town.  She knew she’d have to start moving on soon.  Her food supply was dwindling, and her water supply was even worse.  She had the juices from the handful of canned fruit she had, and the few unpunctured soda cans she’d found outside what use to be a mini-mart.    In the mini-mart rubble she had been able to scavenge a couple bags of beef jerky, a can of tuna, and a couple melted candy bars. She wondered how far she could get on those.

 

She took a look at the sky.  It was so deceiving- that bright beautiful blue sky.  Tiny wisps of clouds floated lazily across as if lounging in a swimming pool.  A flock of birds sat in a tree across the street that had somehow escaped any major damage.  With her eyes closed, their birdsong, along with the warm morning sun could almost convince her she had awoken in her own bed from a terrible dream.  Unfortunately, when she opened her eyes, it was not sunlight streaming in onto her cream covered walls, all curled up under her cotton sheets with the blanket kicked down at her feet.  No- it was still the sight of soot and ash and charcoal.  Everywhere.  Devastation.  It was time to go.

*********************** CHAPTER ONE ****************************************

  A month ago, Lori had come home from her job as a bartender at the local dive in town- Mack’s Shack.  It had been a rather busy Saturday night, with a birthday party and a bachelor party going on.  She had been running like wild, and with her easy personality and good looks, she had won a mirage of tips.  However, she had also developed cramped feet, along with a couple of blisters. At 3am Sunday morning, she unlocked her apartment door on the third floor of her building and was relieved to be home.  She threw her purse and keys on the side table next to the door and plopped on the couch, tenderly removing her shoes and rubbing her feet.  She grabbed a glass of water and went eagerly to bed.   

 

  She woke up at 10:00 that morning, refreshed, but still with sore feet.  She jumped in a warm shower to wash the previous night’s grime from her, and then donned a robe and went to the kitchen for some coffee.  As she sat sipping her coffee and reading a magazine, she heard a very loud bang.  It sounded horribly close and not at all good.  She got up and went to her living room window that overlooked the south where the sound had come from.  She couldn’t see anything, so decided to go check out her bedroom window that had a better view.  Seconds after she had entered the hall, there came an enormous racket, and the building shook, the windows on the south side exploding into the apartment.  Lori fell against the wall in the hallway, and saw shards of glass embedded in her bedroom wall through the door.  She turned back and looked in the living room.  The window she had just been standing in front of was gone, blown into the room and across all her furniture.  She shuddered to think what she would look like had she not moved. 

 

  Her first thought was that there had been an earthquake, or that something had fallen.  She slowly made her way back into the living room and peered out the window, being mindful around the glass so as not to slice herself open.  When she looked out, all thought escaped her.  The buildings that had occupied the block over were gone.. a crater in their place.  She heard a loud noise, as if a low flying airplane, and looked up to see that there were bombers flying overhead. 

 

Oh my god, she thought, we’re at war!  She hadn’t heard of any tensions lately, no one that was an immediate threat.  She found the remote control and flipped on the television.  Much to her horror, she saw that it was happening everywhere- not just her town.  She had figured as much, but to actually see it was horrifying.  She turned the television up as loud as it would go, and then went into her room and quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.  Slipping her sandals on, she came back out and turned the t.v. off and went into her hallway. 

All of her neighbors were out and talking. Doris, the old lady that lived next door, was quivering and crying that she had already lost her son in a war, and she was not ready for another one.  Donald and Travis, the gay couple that lived across the hall were animatedly talking about who they thought it was, and that they needed to call this person or that person.  Staci- a young mother of two little twins- was crying but together, and came up to Lori, her two boys clinging to her leg.   There was a recreation center downstairs, and she suggested that they all go to the bottom story and see what they could gather from the television. No one really seemed to want to be left alone right now, and no one wanted to be up three stories if they were to topple. 

 

  The handful of them went downstairs.  A group of their apartment-mates from the other floors had already had the same idea, and were huddled around the set, drinking coffee and eating pastries that the management had brought out to try and help settle everyone.  Apparently this had started a couple hours ago out on the east coast and had quickly made it’s way west.    They all watched in silence with held breath as the newscasters showed footage of the devastation that lie across the land.  No one seemed to know exactly any details and no one could do more than speculate on who was to blame.  After a few minutes, the broadcast was interrupted for a special notice from the Department of Homeland Security. 

 

  A stern looking man in his 50s with his greying military cut and starched suit came on and told them that their country was at war with an as of yet unknown enemy.  He spoke a bunch of words that held no information for Lori other than that towns all across America had been blown up, but at this point, it did not appear that there had been any nuclear attack or any attack with biological warfare, as had originially been feared.  To be on the safe side though, he said that the country was going into military lock-down.  Everyone was required to take military escort to designated nearby military facilities.  He said that local news stations would soon be given instructions for times when civilians could be expected to be ready.  It was made clear that any attempt to avoid going to these military institutions would be viewed as contempt and treason, and people could expect to be shot on sight for such behavior.  He went on to discuss that the facilities had been set up for national emergency, and that they would be sheltered and fed in comfortable conditions until more information could be obtained as to what was happening. 

 

  The room was quiet as the broadcast ended and their regular newscast crew came back on.  They as well seemed to be stirred by this news, but proceeded to explain what had happened with the White House, and they were awaiting direction.  They went on to reiterate all that had transpired during the morning, and repeated their stories and the Dept of Defense’s statement.    Everyone looked around at each other, flabbergast and confused.  Despite the nervous energy that abounded in the room, no one spoke.  After about fifteen minutes, the newscasters interrupted their story to let the people know that they had received their direction, and the times were being given to them for various towns and their pickup instructions.  They went threw each town, giving locations and times for pickup.  Citizens were instructed to pack as little as possible, and each person would be allowed no more than a gym sized bag or backpack to be brought with them.  They finally reached Lori’s town of Red Rock.  Their designated time was 8pm that evening at the Red Rock High School gymnasium.  Anyone not at the gym by 8pm would be considered as a traitor. Lori looked up at the clock on the wall above the television set.  It was 12:15pm.  They had just under eight hours.  She thought it strange that they gave no instruction for keeping themselves safe in the meantime.   So many questions raced through her mind.  People began to talk all at once, asking the same questions she had, but eventually they all went back to their apartments to get ready. 

 

  As people began to exit the rec room,  one of their oldest neighbors- Mr Andlers- began talking, quietly at first, and then more animated.  He was a retired vet from Viet Nam, and often told his old war stories, and some people thought that maybe he was a bit cracked in the head.  He started saying “we did it”.  Over and over, he said it, getting louder with each repetition.  Lori stopped and looked at him, as did Staci and and a few others. 
“What are you talking about, old man?” asked a man Lori recognized as being a tenant on the second floor, but did not know his name. 

“We did it”, Mr Andler repeated.  “Look!  Those are American planes!  Those aren’t enemy planes, their our own guys!”.   He turned his wheelchair towards them and gestured animatedly at the tv.  “American planes.  Americans bombing our own country!”

 

“You’re wrong.” stated Doris, my old neighbor.  “There’s no way the country my son died for would kill it’s own citizens mindlessly”. 

She defiantly turned and walked back towards the stairwell, Donald and Travis running to help make sure she made it up ok.  The man from the second story just shook his head and mumbled some absurdity under his breath and also left.  A few people lingered, seeming to be torn between what to believe.  Staci looked pale, holding her two boys to her close.  She then seemed to clear her head, give it a shake, and she too, went back up.  Lori looked at Mr Andler.  She watched his character.  At 32 years of age, she had a way of watching people and sizing them up.  It didn’t hurt that she had also minored in psychology and sociology in college.  The teaching degree she had earned had proved unuseful in this town, and she had not been able to find work anywhere else.  She occasionally subbed at the elementary school, but other than that, she had paid all that money to be able to tell which patrons she would get the best tips from at the bar. 

 

  Mr Adler didn’t look cracked up.  He looked scared.  He looked angry.  He did not, however, look crazy.  He honestly believed what he was saying.  His agitation looked more like it came from his inability to convince others than anything else.   He turned his attention back to the news, not moving from his spot.  His eyes suddenly turned back to Lori, who was at this time the only one left in the room.  “I am not going to be at that high school tonight.  I would advise you not to either.  Something is up.  We are under attack by our own country.  The gym is a trap.  They will be leading cows to the slaughter there, they will.”   With that, he turned away from the tv, and rolled his wheelchair down the hall and around the corner out of sight.  Lori looked back at the tv, watched as they showed pictures of the planes dropping bombs all over her country.  She tuned out the voices of the newscasters’ constant repetition of the instructions for pick-up.  Her eyes focused on one jet she saw almost hidden in a wisp of clouds as it flew over what looked like Denver.  Was that the red and white of stripes on it’s underside she saw?  Or was that a figment of her imagination taking over?  She turned and walked back up to her apartment. 

 

  Inside her apartment, Lori took a survey of her place.  What should she take with her?  She had no idea what she would need there, or how long she would be gone.  Hell, she didn’t even know if she would ever be able to come back to her apartment.  She tuned into the newscast, keeping an ear out for any new information, as she stuffed her gym bag with a couple outfits, makeup, keys, pictures of her and her recently deceased mother, a couple of her favorite books.  Suddenly she heard commotion on the television.  She wandered out to watch.  On screen, she realized that they were not showing America, but another country.  Germany she thought they said, but the person who was talking in that part of the world was running hurriedly, as was the cameraman.  She saw planes bombing them as well- saw the same type of devastation that had plastered the news earlier of her own country.  Suddenly, the camera went black.  It was gone.  The newscasters came back on and spoke of how they were getting reports all over the world of this happening.  They also had a man on the phone who was a retired air-force pilot.  He was telling them the same thing that Mr Andler had said.  These were American planes dropping the bombs on America.  From what he had seen from other countries- it was their own pilots as well.  Countries had turned on themselves.  The woman newscaster went on to explain that they had gotten scores of emails stating the same thing.  They went to another Dept of Defense statement, stating that these were not American pilots, although it did appear that they were American planes.  He went on to reiterate that citizens were to report to their designated meeting spots and let the military lead them to their safe spots.  He also reiterated that any resistance would be viewed as hostile and contempt, and would be acted on accordingly. 

  Lori watched for awhile, viewing the man talking, and she noticed a glimmer of amusement, deep in his eyes.  He was relishing this.  She tried to tell herself that she was just being paranoid, but her heart and her gut told her that this was the enemy- right here on the television, and getting ready to take all the people of her town, and towns all over, into custody.  Much to her surprise, she made a decision not to go.  She was not going to be held captive. 

 

   She decided she would have to find somewhere to hide.  She had no doubt that the soldiers would be combing the town for those, like her and Mr Andler, who decided not to go to the school’s gym.  She sat on the edge of her bed and tried to think.  She thought of various places, but none seemed safe enough.  She got up and went into her closet to grab the gun she kept on the top shelf there.  As she switched on the overhead light, she caught glance of the access to the crawl-space attic above.  The access was almost completely hidden by the glare of the light next to it.  She moved her nightstand into the closet, and standing on top, lifted the access to peer inside.  It had decidedly more room than she would have thought.  She figured she could probably crawl through it if needed.  She could see rat droppings and years of dust built up, but considering the alternative, she thought she would be okay up there.   She pulled herself up to test it.  She could lie inside comfortably, and could even roll over.  She got up on all fours, and although her back scrapped against the top rafters, she was able to crawl.  The only problem she discovered was putting the access panel back on.  She would have to figure out a way to do that, or else her plan would be easily detected. 

  She crawled back down into her closet, and inspected the access.  She needed a way to affix it so that once she got up there, she could pull it back into place behind her without being noticed.  She also noticed that she had left scuff marks on the ceiling when she touched it.  She went into her kitchen, washed her hands and rummaged through her junk drawers.  She stole a look at the clock, and realized she had just under five hours left.  In her drawer she found a roll of duct tape.  Picking it up she looked at it, and an idea formed in her head.  She took the tape back into the closet, and pulled down the panel.   With a washcloth, she wiped down the inside of the crawl space just inside.  She then dried it with a towel.  She did the same with the panel.  She cut off a large piece of the duct tape, and affixed it to the inside of the space, and then to the inside of the panel.  She did this four times, providing an almost sheet of tape between the panel and attic.  She let go, and the panel hung down. 

   Satisfied for the moment, she went to survey her apartment.  She had to make sure it looked like she had packed and left.  She noticed her purse still sitting on the table next to the door, and decided to throw that up into the crawlspace as well.  Most women would still take their purse.  Her keys were already inside the gym bag.  She let her dresser drawers remain open, since it was obvious she had been hurriedly packing.  She threw the gym bag up into the hiding spot as well.  She went to her kitchen and pulled out all her bottled water she had ( five bottles ) and rummaged through for food she could take with her.  She found a couple of granola bars, and she made herself a few peanut butter sandwiches that she wrapped in Saran wrap and put into a bag.  She then pulled her gym bag back out and put them in there as well.  She then went and made sure that there were no traces of dust on the access panel or ceiling around it.  When she finished, it looked almost invisible when put back up again.  She took the gun with her into the bathroom and took a long hot shower.  She wasn’t sure when she would get another one.  She then dressed herself in a fresh pair of jeans, and a clean shirt.  She stuffed the dusty clothes into her hamper and covered them with a couple of the other items in there,

  She went back into her living room and looked out the window.  Devastation was everywhere, and she did not even try to stop the tears that flowed.  She was suddenly thankful that she had no family remaining; none that she had any contact with anyways.   The news was now constantly repeating the department of defense’s statements about the pick up times and the assurance that we had not attacked ourselves.  A ticker at the bottom went over all the pick up times and locations for each town.  Apparently the newscasters were not immune to the pick ups either.  Or they wanted to go be with their families.  She figured both were true.  She looked at the clock.  An hour remained.  She could hear the people in the hallways already starting out, and saw people on the streets heading towards the school.  As she turned to head to her room, she happened to see her answering machine sitting there- the red light a solid red to notify of no new messages.  On a whim, she whipped out her cell phone and called herself.  She figured the soldiers might check her message, and she figured it was one last touch to make it appear as if she had really left. 

  “Hi Lori,” she said to herself, and she noted the tremor in her voice, which she did not try to disguise.  ” I was just calling to see if you had left to the school yet.  Since I’m talking to your machine, I suppose you already have, which means you’ll probably never get this.. but here I am talking anyway.  (nervous laugh).  Well, I guess I will meet you there.  I’m scared.  The military will take good care of us though, right?  Ok.. love you girl.  See you there….”   She hung up. 

  It felt eerie.. that message to herself.  It seemed final.  She watched for a few moments at the blinking red light.. something she very rarely saw. She went and locked her front door- something that was habit when she left her apartment- then turned for her room.  She grabbed the gun, some extra shells, and a flashlight, and threw them up into the passage.  She pushed the nightstand back to it’s rightful place next to her bad, and wiped out the markings in the carpet with her shoe.  She then hoisted herself up, and cut herself a small piece of duct tape which she folded over itself, sticky side out, and used it to pull the access panel back into place.  She had purposely left the closet light on, for it’s camouflaging effect on the panel. 

 

*****  about 100 years ago ****

 CHAPTER ONE

   Dorothy and Gladys stood in the living room, both trembling a bit, with torrents of butterflies in their stomachs.  Today was the day they had been waiting for… this was the day that would start the events that would transform their lives.  The next couple days would completely change their outlook on life and it’s intricacies.  But they had no idea just how dramatically it would change…

 

  ” That dream is bothering me-  I can’t stop thinking about it.” Dorothy said nervously.  Gladys took Dorothy’s hand in hers and squeezed it. 

“It will be okay.  Remember, the Samhain festival is tomorrow night, and everyone will be there.  Your parents aren’t going to let Alice out on her own on a night like that, anyway.  Particularly not to come all the way out here.” she assured her. 

  ”Yeah, I know- you’re right.  But it was so vivid..  It’s scary.” said Dorothy, a shiver passing through her body. 

” Well, that’s one of the cons of having a photographic memory.” frowned Gladys, giving her best friend’s hand another squeeze. 

 

  Dorothy squeezed back, but her thoughts returned to the horrible dream she had had a few nights prior.

  In the dream, it was tomorrow night- Halloween night.  They had been wrestling with the demon, and suddenly Dorothy’s little sister Alice had been there, smiling her sideways smile and holding a balloon.  She held the balloon out to her.  “Look what the devil man gave me for you, Sissy!”   In that instance, Dorothy saw her hand come up on it’s own, holding a large knife.  Even as in her mind she screamed “NO”, and fought with herself, she still watched in horror as her hand brought the knife down into her smiling sister’s chest.  She saw the balloon float off as her sister let go and crumbled to the floor in slow motion.  She saw the wide eyes, and still that smile as Alice slid to the ground. 

   Dorothy had woken from the dream screaming, drenched in sweat.  She looked over to her sister, who lay next to her, staring at her in a just-woken stupor.  “Are you ok, Sissy?” she asked quietly, reaching out to caress her wet hair back out of her face.  It was a gesture that Dorothy usually did to her when Alice woke from a nightmare.  Dorothy smiled and hugged her sister.  “Yes, yes I am now.” she said.  But she lay awake for the rest of that night, watching the rise and fall of Alice’s slow breathing as she slept. 

 

   Dorothy was startled out of her reverie by the old ones, Sarah and Mary, coming down the stairs.  She shook herself out of it, and let go of her friend’s hand.  Sarah and Mary were both semi-celebrities in the town, as they were both 100 years old, but still as spry and active as they were in their 70s.  They had moved into the house on the edge of town 6 years ago when the girls were both 10 years old.  By the time they were 14 the girls were regulars over to visit the “Old Ones” as they were known in town.  They helped them out with the chores around the grand house they lived in.  Some folks thought it strange that two young girls would spend so much time with such company, instead of doing the normal things young teen-aged girls do, but then again, these two girls had always been a bit apart from their peers anyways. 

 

   What the townsfolk didn’t know was that Gladys and Dorothy had been hand picked by the two older women- or maybe by Destiny herself-  for a very serious and very special job.  When the girls first started going over there, Sarah and Mary had been doing a sort of inconspicuous “interview”.  When determined that these were the two, they had begun to integrate them into regular teachings by using stories and some history.  By the time they were 15, Dorothy and Gladys were doing full time studies for that which they had been chosen (or destined, if you will) for. 

   The four of them exchanged happy hellos, and hugs.  The old women smiled at the younger one’s resolve to keep the fact that they were trembling under cover.  Sarah and Alice had remarked to each other before about how impressive the two young girls’ resolve was.  They seemed far wiser than their young 16 years belied.   Sarah hobbled into the kitchen to prepare them all some tea as the other three settled themselves upon the couches and chairs in the living room.  Once Sarah had returned, and they all held a nice hot cup of tea in their hands, Alice began to speak. 

 

   “As you well know, this is the beginning of the next couple days.  They are going to be very tough, and exhausting.  I hope you two got plenty of sleep over the past few days?”  She raised her eyebrows at them, with that classic questioning look. 

 

   The next several hours the four of them spent preparing for the next night.  Runes and other protective spells or symbols were drawn onto the walls in a disappearing solution made of various herbs – invisible to the human eye.  Final touches were made by the two old women on the special box that was essential to tomorrow’s success.  The two young ones spent the day doing all of the physical preparations- the wall work, the moving of furniture, packing away the last of the breakables.  The older women, once satisfied with the box, moved on to chanting the incantations that would keep people away from the house, and ones that would render the house unexitable for the immortal force they were soon to battle. 

 

   They finished in the early afternoon of All Hallow’s Eve.   Exhausted they lie on couches and chairs, catching wisps of naps to renew for the hardest part to come.  As day crept into evening, they were each individually awoken by the sounds of the house creaking and groaning, as if something massive had awaken in the attic upstairs.  This, actually, was not far from the truth.  One at a time, the women sat up, and prepared themselves mentally for the work ahead.  They knew it would be hard, but doable.  The two young ones trembled with anticipation of the new journey, while the older two relaxed with the knowledge that this was thier last.

   

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

 Alice stood at the town’s center, her eyes aglow with all the festivities.  The night had grown dark and cool.  There was a bonfire in the middle of town square, to which she walked over to, reveling in it’s glow and somewhat conscious of it’s warmth.  Music played all over, and everyone from the town mingled here and there – most dressed in costume.  Halloween was a celebrated event here in town, and everyone got into the scheme of it.  There were stands of wares, the smell of food from the various venders lent the air the scent of celebration.   The grounds were covered with decorations of haystacks, pumpkins and other gourds, scarecrows, and other harvest ornamentals. 

 

  Alice stepped up to the fire and spread her hands before it.  She had lost track of her mother some time earlier in the evening, but was not worried about it.  At 11 years old, she was already well use to her mom  ”forgetting” about her.  It didn’t even really register in her brain that she was alone.  There were so many costumes and sights to see.  She watched the townsfolk pass, and her goofy grin stayed splayed across her face as she delighted in the sights. 

 

  A breeze of cold air swept past her, and she shivered, but it went unnoticed.  Suddenly she noticed the devil sitting across from her, holding a bunch of balloons.  They sparkled in the firelight, and caught her complete attention.  Her mouth fell slack as she stared at them.  The devil spoke in a pleasant voice to her.

“Would you like a balloon, Alice?” he asked.   She nodded vehemently at the man.  He motioned for her to come on over, and she obeyed, almost running over to him.  He handed her a beautiful blue one, tying it loosely around her wrist. 

“There.” he said to her.  “That way it won’t get lost.”  he smiled behind his painted devil persona.  Alice grinned stupidly back at him;  her young, slow mind caught up in the giddiness of her new prize. 

“And where is your sister, Dorothy,  tonight?”  he asked, his voice become a bit more rugged.  Alice, oblivious to the change in tone, answered.  “She’s with the old women.  They couldn’t come out tonite so she is keeping them company.” 

The devil’s eyebrow raised, and he sighed.  “Well, isn’t that too bad that she has to miss out on all the fun?  I tell ya what-  here. ”  he handed her a bright red balloon.  “Why don’t you go take this to her.  I bet it will make her smile.”  

 

“I’m not suppose to go anywhere by myself.”  said Alice, a frown coming to her face for the first time, as she realized she would not be able to treat her sister. 

“Well,  what if I walked you out there.  Then you wouldn’t be all by yourself.” said the devil, grinning, well, devilishly. 

 

“Ok!” said Alice.  The man held out his hand and she took it, and they walked out of the town’s square and onto the darkened road towards the old women’s house.  No one took notice as the dull-witted child left with the stranger.  Soon they disappeared into the darkness.. the sound of the band’s music fading behind them. 

 *******************************************************************************

 

 

  Alice’s birth had been a huge shock for Dorothy’s mother.  Throughout thier history, the women of the family had always only had one child, and always a girl.  It had been that way for as far back as their history could be traced.  There had never been a second child.  So when Dorothy’s mom had gotten pregnant with Alice, she was astonished and frightened as well.  She fretted whether this was a gift or a punishment for her promiscuous ways. 

 

  Dorothy, of course, was thrilled with the thought of having a baby brother or sister to play with.  At five years old, she was already much more intelligent than other children her age, and she was often shunned by them.  She longed for a playmate, and had always wanted a sibling.  She hoped deep down that it was a sister, but she was thrilled at the prospect of either one.   When Alice was born, Dorothy couldn’t have been more excited.  She fell instantly in love with her baby sister, and vowed that she would never let anything bad happen to her. 

 

  It didn’t take long for the family to realize that Alice was no where near Dorothy’s peer in brains.  As a matter of fact, it became quickly apparant that she was just the opposite.  Her feeble mind kept her far behind the other children, and thier mother found herself believing that Alice was a punishment, and she began to despise her.  She hated the fact that she had this dumb kid while all the other moms had beautiful, smart children.  On the other hand, her other daughter was a black sheep of the town.  She was a loner, and others talked about her behind their hands.  She knew her family was the subject of gossip around the town.  Her two freak children. 

 

  But she did notice how Dorothy took to her sister, and how she treated her like a little doll.  She took care of her, so her mother left it to her to care for the little one.  She did not want to be bothered with it.  Instead she took to drinking to try and not have to think about her abnormal children. 

 

  So Dorothy became more of a mother to Alice than her own mother was.  She fed and bathed her, she gave her tons of attention and helped her learn with a patience that was heroic.  She applauded and praised as Alice learned to talk and to walk.  She played with her continuously, teaching her sister how to do simple daily activities through their play, such as dressing and feeding herself. 

 

  Perhaps if their mother had paid more attention to her children instead of herself the next events could have been prevented.  If she had cared even the slightest about these children that were not talked about as poorly as she thought they were.  In fact, if she had paid any attention at all, she would have realized that the townsfolk gossiped more about her, and her lack of being a good mother, than they did about the children.  Their talk about the children veered more towards sympathy.  As it happened though, their mother was a drunk and a bad mother, and it was Dorothy who would suffer the greatest because of it.

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

 

  Day grew into night, and the battle had begun.  The women fought to keep the demon contained within the walls of the house.  They struggled to keep it from the unsuspecting and unprepared people in town.  To let the demon lose would mean chaos and ruin for life as they knew it.   The two old women brought down the box, carrying it between them gingerly, despite the cacophony that blew around them as the angry demon slammed and destroyed everything in it’s path in it’s attempt to escape it’s prison. 

 

Gladys and Dorothy used all of their strength to keep their minds strong and blocked from the ravaging mind of the demon.  They pushed it with their will, and wrapped it in chains.  They barred the walls with their minds, and shoved it towards the box.  The demon was strong, but the minds of the four women, young innocent energy and old, wise energy kept it enough at bay. 

The old women had the box down, and lifted the lid.  Inside was where the demon would reside for the next hundred years- as if a genie in a bottle.  However, this genie was not going to grant any wishes. 

 

As the women struggled to push the demon into the box,  Dorothy was pushed back up to a table that held an array of knives they had used to finish the carvings in the box.  It was from there that she heard a voice she recognized calling her name.  She looked over to see her sister, Alice, standing there holding a red balloon out to her. 

 

“Dorothy- look what the devil gave me to give to you!”  Alice said, proudly.

 

A torrent of dismay washed over Dorothy as she recognized the scene from her dream.  She felt her mind start to float away as if again dreaming, and then she watched in horror as her mind was pushed to the back and another , terrible one came in and took over.  She watched as her hand grasped the knife behind her, and rose it above her sister’s chest, and screamed in her head at the demon as it used her hand to plunge the knife into the heart of the innocent little girl she had so loved before her.  Her mind snapped as she felt the intruder leave her body, heard it’s hateful laugh as he left, and she forgot everything else around her as she crawled to her sister’s body, limp and lifeless on the floor, her eyes still open wide, seemingly staring at the red balloon that floated above her.  She could still hear her saying the Devil had given her the balloon, to give to her.  She cradled her sister’s head in her arms, as her lap filled with blood, and she screamed.  Over and over she screamed. 

 

 Gladys saw Dorothy’s attention suddenly switch to something else.   She saw Alice walk up to Dorothy and hand her something, and then she saw as the demon flew into Dorothy.  She then directed all of her energy into pulling it out of her.  She sank to the floor as she poured everything she had into releasing Dorothy from the demon’s embrace, and in some part of her conscious, she heard the two old ladies begin to chant.  She vaguely saw as the demon used Dorothy’s own hand to plunge the knife into Alice.  She just focused on the demon, and eventually was able to wrench it from her friend, and flung it into the box.  The two ladies slammed the lid closed, and they all sat- completely drained.

 

The four women sat on the floor, three of them from mental and physical exhaustion, and one from grief.  They listened as Dorothy weeped and moaned, rocking her sister in her arms.  Eventually they heard as help came to the door.  Fists pounded upon it.  The women took the box quickly back upstairs as Gladys got to her feet to let the men in.

I stumbled blindly along the corroded, ancient asphalt line.  It had been ages since an actual motor vehicle had been driven down the crumbling lanes.  It had been ages since a motor vehicle had been driven, period. 

 

Little tornadoes of desert dust devils whipped and tore around me,  blasting my face and eyes.  I tried to keep my body covered, clinging my long cloak to me desperately.  The air was hot and dry.  Tears from my tormented eyes streaked tracks of mud along my cheeks.  My lips felt blistered.  I was parched, and my tongue felt as if I had been drinking of the dirt swirling around me. 

 

I had been walking for days- days which felt like centuries.  My feet were blistered and sore, and the soles of my shoes wore almost completely off.  Luckily, my tunic and pants were in reasonably good condition, and my cloak had a large hood which kept most of the dirt and wind off of me.  Except for my poor, poor eyes.  How I longed for a pair of goggles, but my last pair had broken in a fall a few weeks ago. 

 

The wind began to whip particularly harsh around me, and I stumbled back and forth across the black top.  I clenched my wrap close to me, and covered my face, letting my feet carry me forward.  At some point I must have left the road, for when I felt the barage slacken enough to look, I could see no trace of it, and searching for footprints was a laughable thought.  I stood, unsure of which way to go, and angry with myself for not paying more attention.   It wasn’t that the road honestly led somewhere.  But it at least gave me a direction, and something to follow.  A way to know that I wasn’t just spinning myself in circles. 

 

I stood and closed my eyes, breathing deeply (but covered, so as not to burn my sinuses with snorting up dust!).  I searched to center myself, and pick a direction to go.  I knew I would not be going back the way I came, for the faint glow of the sun still shone like an old dusty lantern in the sky.  I had been walking towards it before the bad swirl, so I knew I wasn’t that far off.