Camille: Wave of Weird. "Here ya are, it came this afternoon." She cradled her other arm closer as she handed the letter to the officer. Ben shoved Baley's letter into a shirt pocket and glanced at Camille, she was staring, seemingly transfixed, at ill's ixer. He understood why, when he smelled the smoke. "Christ. What else can go wrong?" He hit the button to dispatch. "Martha get Rod and the fire department out to Bill's garage. Looks like they've finally managed to blow something up. It might be chemical. Send Bert out, too. The guys might be hurt." In the distance sirens blared. Ben reached out to pluck up Camille and take her back to the car, but all he found was empty air. He caught sight of her bright head more than half way to Bill's, trucking along at the full blown run. Even as he noticed the spackling of fresh blood on the sidewalk, Ben was dumbfounded by her speed. The woman ran like a freakin' deer. Camille's sandals whispered against the pavement, each stride, agony against her scuffed knees, but she kept running. She reached the Fixer just as the Roast Beef guy emerged from the burning building pulling Teddy out by the collar of his coveralls. "Hey! Wake up! What the hell did you do to my bike!" While the out of towner was busy railing at the unconscious Teddy, Camille revved her senses to the max, breathing in the heat and pulse of the spreading flames. Like a musician, her fingers began to fly, plucking at unseen threads. The fire halted in its tracks and began to slowly die. Her fingers flew faster, her skirts flaring as she spun round, catching hold of every last trailing end, winding in the fire as if it were a ball of twine. Flames lifted free, billowing like silken banners in the afternoon breeze. With one final quick, upward snap of her wrists, Camille pulled the glowing standard apart at the seams. The fire disappeared in a dying breath of smoke. She sat down, hard and put her head between her knees, the tegaderm across them, sheening with a copious flow of blood.
Teddy Jones Teddy sat there in darkness, in a smog filled dream, with his lungs burning and his body like a ragdoll. “Hey! Wake up! What the hell did you do to my bike!” The biker screamed at him and throttled Teddy by the collar. Coughing up smoke the mechanic narrowed his eyes, sneering at the enraged man grasping him. “Oh I’m fine by the way.” he sniped. “Thanks for asking.” The scene was anarchy. Smoke billowed from the Fixer volcano, smearing the landscape with a heavy grey scar. It continued to rise and spread like a plague infecting the sky, festering ash across Grygla. Sirens blared in the distance and towns folk gazed from the safety of their windows, as two men’s heated discussion burned hotter than the garage itself. “The bike was a death trap!” Pushing away the threat, Teddy gave an unseen spark to the Alan’s chest to give him an extra little sting. “I told you that battery was the problem, it blasted me half way across the garage.” The icy stare Teddy gave could have chilled anyone, and he followed up by stabbing a finger towards the blazing inferno. “Your damn bike did that!” But Teddy neglected to realise that the blazing inferno was in fact, not a blazing inferno. The dreamy blue of Minnesota sky had returned to view and the fires had returned to the underground. “Wait... what the?”
Baley Warsaw "I... I think that people like us are the only ones who got a letter." Ina said finally, looking at Baley, "Do you-... Is there a reason I can't touch you?" Brushing her bangs out of her eyes, Baley took a closer look at Ina. She was...like her? No one had ever been like her, not one in all of her sixteen years. Fran had been the closest girl like her, but still she had the fancy technology. Baley had slept over at her house once and that had been the end of it. Ma wouldn't put up with her knowing how to work a television. When she got her ability, that had put her into a whole different category of weird. Having anything in common with someone sure was something. Baley nodded and her bangs fell back into her eyes. "Real bad stuff could happen," she said in a low voice. "If ya touch me...ya might go a...” Baley swallowed back a lump of fear as she thought of it. “Well, I haven't touched any folks bare for two years and I'm not one of them risk takers. I'm not plannin' on findin' out." Baley began to walk faster, trying to avoid eye contact with any of the tourists. She felt she was being rude, so she slowed her pace looking over her shoulder as Ina caught up. "Guess ya got somethin' special too?"
Camille: Desperate “The bike was a death trap!” Pushing away the threat, Teddy gave an unseen spark to the Alan’s chest to give him an extra little sting. “I told you that battery was the problem, it blasted me half way across the garage.” The icy stare Teddy gave could have chilled anyone, and he followed up by stabbing a finger towards the blazing inferno. “Your damn bike did that!” Camille didn't bother to raise her head, knowing she would pass out if she tried, as she yelled. "Can you two shut up and just be glad you're still alive?" The sirens were closer now, the town center block...She had to get out of here. Too many people had seen her wave of weird. She shut everything out, in an effort to retain consciousness. If she went down again they would send her to Bemidji, attributing the bleeding and anemia to her hemophilia. She wasn't going down that road again. She needed to get home, but she also didn't have the strength to stand. Drawing a deep breath, she fought back the tears that threatened. Never before had she been in such a wretched state. Wet cotton crumpled in her fists. "Dammit all!" She cried, slamming a small, sandaled foot against the cracked pavement. Wheels screeched. Sirens howled in her sensitive ears. They were here...
Dr. Albrite: Bad Medicine “What now?” Eva muttered as a fire engine sped past. A quick glace in her rear view mirror revealed a column of smoke rising over the rooftops. The alleged serial killer would have to wait. She sighed and pulled over, knowing what would come next. A half second later her phone rang. “Angie, it’s me,” Bert said, speaking quickly. She could hear the sound of a revving engine in the background. “There’s been a fire at the-” “You shouldn’t talk while driving,” Eva said as she spun a u-turn and headed toward the blaze. “I can see the smoke from here, Bert. I’ll meet you there. And be careful.” She hung up, tossed the phone in her bag, and put the accelerator to the floor. What a day this is turning out to be… Eva arrived on the scene at the same time as Bert’s ambulance and the fire truck. But the firefighters pouring out of the vehicle could only stand around with a puzzled look on their faces. The fire was… gone? There wasn’t even a cloud of smoke in the sky. It was as if the fire had been extinguished hours ago and only the damage remained. Bert stood dumbstruck until she tapped him on his shoulder. He flinched. “Nevermind what happened, we’re here for the victims,” she said, looking him squarely in the eyes. “If you want to be a doctor, you can start by helping, instead of gawking. Tend to the two over there; I’ll deal with Camille.” ‘Deal with’ seemed an odd choice of words, but Bert hesitantly nodded and tore open the doors of the ambulance, where he grabbed his doctor’s bag and got to work, moving with a sense of urgency. Eva retrieved a bag of medical supplies from the trunk of her car and stopped to spread a towel over the backseat. She had already assessed the situation in her mind, concocted an escape plan, and was ready to carry it out. With her doctor’s bag, Evangeline strolled over to Camille and knelt beside the girl. This was usually the part where she’d ask ‘how do you feel’ and ‘where does it hurt’ and all that crap. Not this time. “Hold still,” she said as she drew out a syringe and gave the girl a shot in her thigh. Her cold hands and the surgical swiftness with which she plunged the needle into the girl’s vein made it crystal clear her injuries were not the doctor’s primary concern. “A procoagulant to stem the bleeding,” Eva explained as she discarded the empty needle. “It should stabilize you long enough to get you to my car and away from these people, so you can explain to me why your name keeps popping up everywhere I turn. You will start by explaining why you’re the only ‘victim’ of this fire who shows no signs of smoke inhalation or scorching... I don’t think you were anywhere near the building when it happened. I think you ran to the fire and extinguished it in a way only you can. " She locked eyes with Camille, blue-to-blue, and lowered her voice to a whisper. "It's time we had a very serious talk, Miss Perrie. Bandi Preweitt isn't the only one who's had an eye on you."
Camille: Panic Camille shot to her feet in blurred, tilting rush. Her thigh burned, but she ignored it. Overdosing on adrenaline, she shifted to instinct, leaving logic to fall by the wayside. She felt the cold rush of hydrant water flood over her feet. The coagulant fed her overwhelmed systems, but she needed to get home. "It's time we had a very serious talk, Miss Perrie. Bandi Preweitt isn't the only one who's had an eye on you." "I owe you no explanation." She hissed. Spinning about, she drew up the sheet of hydrant water up like a cloak and cast it over the doctor, taking care to make sure her face remained clear. One hard breath out and the water set, a perfect, icy prison. "That is how pipes freeze in this heat..." She whispered before breaking into a panic fueled run. Blood drops splattered down as she bolted faster than a hunted doe. Her feet clung to the sidewalk with desperate strength. Each breath burned. Her heart throbbed against her ribs, but still she ran. One block, down...Two to go...The tumbledown Victorian, its broken window, a gaping, toothless maw. Her feet pounded harder, faster...Muscle memory carried her along the familiar path. The sign of the Grammar Hammer loomed large, just ahead. Nearly there. One final, massive surge brought her to the steps leading to her deck. Ten steps to the top. Muttering a prayer under her breath, so as not to trip, she hit the steps at full tilt. Her feet echoed hollowly on the planking of the deck. Numb fingers curled around the doorknob. It twisted in her hand. Radish barked from the bookfloor below, but she ignored him. There was no time. She reached the bathroom as the world began to spin. With blind determination, she shoved back the wave of dizziness and forced her fuzzed brain to focus. Pulling open the door of the linen closet, she pulled out an I.V. pole and sterile tubing. The entire bottom third of the closet was taken up by a mini-fridge. Camille pulled it open, revealing a decent supply of blood products. Packed, whole red cells and platelets. The two she needed most...Upper left hand corner, she reminded herself. With the ease of a practiced motion, she readied the bags and strung them up on the pole. Pulling down the strap of her sundress, she pulled out the port of a central line and hooked it up to the packed red cells. With the whole blood transfusing, she sank down among a stack of freshly laundered towels. Mr. Herrings must have cleaned up the mess while she was gone, Camille thought blurrily. Sleep was a good thing...
Ina Holt "Guess ya got somethin' special too?" Baley said as Ina caught pace with her. "You could say that." Ina said, making sure her hair was still covering her left eye. It hadn't quite stopped twitching yet, "I've been trying to master it, but... It's not the most predictable of things." She pulled open the door to Carving & Crafts, and gestured for Baley to enter. "Gloves are in the right corner by the register." She said with a point, splitting off to examine the tools. There it was. A V-parting tool. She sifted through the pile until she found one with a nice grain. "Need help finding anything over there?" The elderly Gustav said shakily, with a smile at Ina. "No, just looking today." She said sweetly, the smile vanishing from her face the moment she turned away. She reached a hand toward the tool, then paused, her hand hovering over the bin. She did have the money from that man's wallet she'd taken. She could use that, instead of risking being caught. No, better hold on to that. She thought to herself. Her eye began to spin once more. I'm using way to much energy today. She unconsciously warned herself. She felt thick ooze building behind her spinning eye. This was her chance. With one glance she made sure Gustav wasn't watching, then reached out. In a flash, the tool was gone. "Ouch!" She gripped the side of her head, as a pang went through her skull. There was a throbbing in her eye, and the ooze started to pour through. More than she'd anticipated. She held her sleeve up to soak up the green slime, and turned to Baley. "You almost done?" She snapped, as the liquid started to dribble down her sleeve.
Eva and the other So, that’s how it’s going to be… Eva thought, trapped in a thin shell of ice. She had seen the water at her feet, but the girl was just too quick for her. Still, this was only a minor setback. The ice prison was confining, but she had room to move. Channeling her strength, the doctor squared her stance, took a deep breath and focused. She hadn’t done much fighting since coming to Grygla, over thirty years ago, so her skills were a little rusty. But she still remembered the basics. Eva delivered a solid palm strike, with near-flawless technique. Not bad for an old lady in heels, she thought as the first cracks formed. A second strike shattered the prison and she calmly stepped out, dusted herself off, and headed for her car, ignoring the awestruck onlookers. They were shocked at what Camille had done, not her, and she hoped it would stay that way. Some people tried to speak to her, but Eva ignored them, climbed into her car, shut the door, and sped off. She drove away in the opposite direction, but it was only a ruse to appear as if she wasn’t pursuing Camille. After driving two blocks, she made a left and then another left, doubling back down a different street and finally arriving in a shady alley behind the Grammar Hammer. Where else could the girl possibly run? Her home and workplace were one and the same. She had a few friends in town, but most of them probably thought she was a witch now, after what she’d just done. Bandi Preweitt was probably organizing a torch and pitchfork brigade at this very moment. If I were her, I’d be packing my bags, Eva thought as she waited in her car, with the engine running. And praying. “Go,” she said. -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- It began on aisle five in the back of the store, in a shadowy nook between the fiction and nonfiction sections. From the darkness, something reached out, inky black and vaguely animalistic, despite being lost in obscurity. In one swift stroke, its phantom limb smashed the light bulb, casting a corner of the bookstore into darkness. Herrings quickly responded to the sound, but the offender was long gone. Elsewhere in the store, a pair of beady red eyes materialized on aisle nine, staring out from the newly-darkened section of the store. Quick as a loosed arrow, a serpent shot forth and snapped up another light bulb, crushing it between its fanged jaws. Again, the old man came to see what the commotion was, but arrived too late. A third of the store was without light, leaving the old man puzzled beyond reason. ”Better check the circuit breaker,” Mr. Herrings sighed to himself as he slowly shuffled toward the back room, where the electrical equipment was. What came next was a frenzy of activity. A massive black shape made its way about the store, eliminating every light source it could sink its claws, teeth, and various other appendages into. When all was done, a dog was barking furiously upstairs and the Grammar Hammer’s storefront was completely darkened, its aisles littered with shattered bulbs. From the chaos, a large shape made its way toward the back room, prowling on four thick paws. It had the face and muscled body of a lion, with curved horns upon its head and two beady red eyes staring out from the cold black fire that encompassed its translucent form. A mane of serpents writhed around its neck, sometimes snapping at one another. The beast tucked its inky, black-feathered wings close to its body, so as not to disturb the shelving as it made its way toward the back room. Herrings turned just as the ethereal chimera squeezed into the tiny backroom with him, like a demon coming to reap his soul. He took one look and his knees went limp beneath him as he stared into the eyes of what he was sure would be certain death. But he wasn’t the intended target. With one powerful thrust, the creature ran its vicious horns through the fuse box. There was a shower of sparks, a loud pop, and the power in the entire building failed. This place now belonged to the shadows. Its mission accomplished, the chimera melted back into the darkness, leaving Herrings quivering alone on the floor. Outside, a car horn honked in the alley.
Baley Warsaw With a grateful sigh, Baley walked over to where Ina had pointed. Next to the counter was an assortment of leather gloves, ranging in all sizes. "Thank the Good Lord," Baley muttered as she rummaged through the leather gloves with one hand. As she did she faintly heard the man from the counter ask if Ina needed any help. She was too determined to not brush up against any of the gloves with her bare hand to take much notice. After looking intently at each glove, she grabbed up two perfect pairs. Both were way above her normal budget, but this was an emergency. She took two steps closer to the register, setting her purchase gently on the counter. "Will that be all for you today?" the cashier asked. "Yes, Sir." Baley said as she awkwardly shook off her knapsack to pull out her money. "That will be 23.95. Any coupons or want to be added to our mailing list?" "No, thanks." Baley muttered as she struggled to open the buckle with one hand. "You almost done?" Ina snapped from across the room. "Sorta." Baley bluffed. The folks behind her were also growing impatient while she fiddled with the buckle. She felt like their eyes were boring holes into her back as she finally unlatched it and pulled out a twenty and five. She could only pray Ma and Pa wouldn't find out. The man handed her back the right change and Baley tossed it into her knapsack, not bothering to close it up again. "Have a good day!" the cashier said. Baley ignored him as she went over to Ina, fumbling with her knapsack and plastic bag with one arm. Her face revealed pure frustration. "I'm gonna have a heck of a time gettin' these new gloves on. Once we get out of here, ya mind helpin' me?" Baley asked. Looking up from her bags, she noticed Ina seemed to be dealing with something of her own. Her sleeve was turning an interesting color. "Uh...ya doin' okay, Ina?"
Shyla and Camille: Fellow Exceptional I knew it! I knew I couldn’t be the only one with weird abilities. Shyla was dancing for joy inside as she watched Camille throw a blanket of ice over Eva. She had followed the crowd to Teddy and Bill's shop upon seeing the smoke. The excitement of seeing another exceptional was much stronger than her sense of sorrow of losing her dirt-bike in that strange fire. Even the strange message suddenly appearing on that note faded into the background. Teddy seemed to be ok and Alan was kneeling over him freaking out about his bike. So much for telling him not to worry about it. Camille had sprinted away much faster than Shyla had ever seen her move before. No way she was letting this go. Shyla ran back to her motorcycle and rode to Camille’s house. I can’t believe Camille is like me…sort of. I don’t turn things to ice. After 12 years of keeping this hidden, I finally have someone other than my uncle to talk to! Shyla parked in Grammer Hammer's parking lot and ran to her front door. “Camille!? It’s me! Shyla…let me in! I have to talk to you.” She yelled through the door while knocking. Camille was startled out of her doze by Shyla yelling through her door. What the hell? Her voice was croaky, but she called out. "It's not locked." While she waited for Shyla, she switched out the empty whole cell bag for the much needed platelets. With the new bag going, Camille pulled out the first aid kit, before settling back among her towels. Shyla's excitement was tampered by the sight of Camille sitting on the bathroom floor with an empty blood bag at her side and another dripping into the IV. "Hey, you ok? Can I help?" She asked with concern. "Let Radish in and make sure both doors are locked. I don't want anyone finding me, especially the doc." Camille replied with a shiver as she pressed a dense gauze pad against her bloody left knee. "That woman is a real cold fish..." Applying pressure, she glanced up. "This had better be important, Shy." Shyla knelt by Camille and smiled joyfully. "I saw you. Use your abilities. To freeze water around the doc. You have them too...gifts!" She stood, "And so do I." Suddenly there was a flash of light and Shyla was gone. 15 seconds later another flash of blue light and she was there again, her arm around Radish's waist. Her watch beep twice. The number was down to 24. Shy smiled widely at Camille eager for her response. Camille glanced up, her eyes desolate. Radish clamored into her lap. "You call what I did a gift? Bandi Preweitt hit the nail on the head when she called me a freak. I freeze water in the middle off summer, set off sprinklers, and shred flames...But at what price? I've been called a witch, a freak show, bullied beyond endurance...I have never had a normal life. Two grades ahead in school, too fragile for normal activities because I could bleed to death. How is this a gift?" Pushing her glasses back up, she swallowed her tears. "What you can do is a gift; mine is a curse..." Shyla was a little taken aback by Camille's harsh response, but then her face went stern and kneeled in front of Camille. "Tons of people in this world have this disease as you do...but how many of them can turn water into ice? Your abilities are a gift. You...a normal "weak" person...have been given something special that may one day help you do something great in the future! Maybe even save someone's life!" She held up her wrist that had the watch/regulator on it. "Everytime I teleport I risk having a severe seizure. Before my Uncle made this watch to absorb the electricity my body generates...I had a seizure every day. One almost killed me. But that didn't make me curse my abilities. It's just something I had to push through. Even now I have small ones every now and again. Especially if I teleport to many times in one day...but still it doesn't stop me. And you shouldn't let your hemophilia stop you." Shyla stood, a softened look on her features. "I'm sorry. It's not my place to lecture you. You've probably been through alot more than I have." "Damn straight." Camille said with a watery chuckle indicating the platelets dripping into her central line. "What makes it so frustrating is if I didn't have the abilities, I wouldn't be so fragile. Couple the hemophilia with my AB- blood type and it's a world of worry." Suddenly the lights flickered and died. Radish dove for cover in the tub, ducking below the rim. "You might want to join him in there. We have company." Camille said, pushing to her feet. She pulled the Mag Light out from under the sink. Thank heavens for Ben... Cautiously she clicked the button and the big flashlight sprang to life. "Dammit, I don't have time for this." In rapid succession, she pulled out another central line port, this one from beneath her left shoulder blade, and hung another bag of whole red cells. The blood on her knees was finally clotting. "You stay here. I'll check it out. It's probably just the fuse box." Shyla replied. "Got another flashlight by chance?" Camille nodded. "Top drawer on the right, next to the sink." Shyla pulled out the flashlight turned it on and opened the door, "I'll have those lights on in a jiffy." She said as she walked out.
Camille: Dying Light Shyla pulled out the flashlight turned it on and opened the door, "I'll have those lights on in a jiffy." She said as she walked out. "It will take a bit more than just a fuse," Camille muttered to herself as she stepped into her big square living room, with its reading nook and bay windows. Late summer sunlight flooded across the floor. Instinctively, Camille put her back to the light, absorbing the warmth. Candles rested in strategic places about the room, some in the original wall scones that hadn't been converted to electric light. She sank into the pillows piled on the window seat and cleared her mind, her senses needle sharp once more. It was there, always there, no matter the place, no matter the time...The ancient song was always there. All you had to do to find it, was listen. She knew the cadence of her own heart, the ferocious tattoo of Radish's...Shyla's downstairs...and the anemic throb of... Camille shot to her feet. Oh, god! Not Mr. Herrings... Frantically, she searched for her phone. Finally finding it in the bowels of her bag, she dialed 911. "911 Emergency. How can we help you?" "It's Mr. Herrings at the Grammar Hammer, 315 Hickory Street in Grgyla. I think he may have had a heart attack. He's unconscious. Please hurry." Quickly she hung up and set the phone aside. Radish howled from the bathtub. Camille's delicate hand wrapped around a small object in her dress pocket.
Evangeline Mr. Herrings took a deep breath and mustered his courage. With trembling hands, he pulled himself up. There was no sign of the creature. It seemed to hate the light for some reason. If he could just get the power back on… The fuse box was trashed. “Dammit,” Herrings muttered under his breath as a cold sweat ran down his wrinkled forehead. He was too old for this. I gotta get outta here. My shop’s haunted. He at least needed to get to the phone and dial the local pastor; he’d know what to do! Herrings moved toward the door, but a dark shape blocked his path. The beady red eyes stared into his soul and the old man staggered backwards, flattening himself against the far wall. He slowly slid down and curled up, to pray and await the end, but the creature just stood there, blocking the door, trapping him in the back room of the darkened shop. Then the old man’s hand gripped his chest and his face contorted in pain… -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Doctor Albrite was standing at the bottom of the steps when Shyla emerged from Camille’s loft with a flashlight. She hadn’t expected the motocross girl to show up, but at least it was only her and not an angry mob of townspeople. Shyla seemed like a reasonable person. “Where is she?” the doctor said, blocking the bottom of the stairwell. “I need Camille to come with me, Shyla. She’s hurt and it’s not safe here anymore.” She took the first step up. “I know she’s afraid and confused right now but-” Her phone suddenly rang, a shrill siren that pierced the quiet air. That ringtone indicated a call from dispatch: an emergency. Dammit all, Eva thought as she flipped open the phone and answered it. “What?” “The Perrie girl says old man Herrings might be having a heart attack at the Grammar Hammer,” Martha said from the other end. “Everybody else is tied up at Bill’s garage. Do you think you could-” “I’m on it,” Eva said and quickly hung up. “Dammit,” she hissed as she gave one final glace to Shyla before turning and heading back down. I told you to WATCH the man, not give him a fucking heart attack, she thought. Then again, she should’ve known this would happen. Herrings was seventy-two years old. His heart couldn’t handle an encounter with an interdimensional abomination. When Eva burst in, Herrings was lying on the floor and her 'pet' was pressing his chest with its massive paws. “Gehenna, off!” Eva said and the beast turned to look at her, with no signs of guilt in its fiery crimson eyes, as if to say ‘hey, not my fault!’ But he obeyed and stepped back before fading into the darkness once more. Eva dropped to her knees beside the old man and pressed her ear to his chest. Breathing, but no heartbeat. She promptly began performing CPR.
Camille: Downstairs Camille heard a car halt just outside the window. Forcing down her panic she saw a familiar green Jetta parked beneath the spreading boughs of the big maple. She recognized the tousled head that emerged with a handful of grocery bags. Footsteps drummed up her steps and a few seconds later her front door opened...I could have sworn Shyla locked that... Ben kicked the door shut behind him, set the bags on the counter, and looked up, clearly shocked to see Camille. "What the hell?! Cami? How did you...I thought...Bert had..." Radish bound out of the bathroom saving her from a barrage of uncomfortable questions. "Now is not the time, Ben. I just got off the phone with 911. I think Mr. Herrings had a heart attack downstairs. I can't get down to him. Could you..." Ben scooped her up, pole and all and ran for the door leading down to the bookfloor. He took the spiral stairway at a full run and set Camille down as soon as he reached the bottom. "Where is he?" "In the back. By the fuse box I think." For the umpteenth time that day, sirens split the air. Ben rushed back to the small room and found Albrite bent over the old man preforming CPR. "What do you need me to do?" He asked. Behind him, Ben heard wheels rolling and Camille's baby soft footsteps. She crouched beside the doctor and Ben, and held out two bottles. One of nitro, the other of aspirin. "I don't know if these will help..."
Evangeline, delivering another ultimatum Eva ignored the sounds of new voices at the front of the store. She could hear Camille and a man who sounded like Officer Hanson. She continued performing chest compressions. The old man’s color began to return and he had a weak pulse, which was an improvement. Seconds later, Camille and Ben arrived. "What do you need me to do?" Hanson asked. ”Give him some room. He’s coming around,” she said, pressing her ear to Herrings’s chest again. His lungs were functioning, though his breathing was shallow and panicked. Camille crouched beside them with two bottles of medication. "I don't know if these will help..." she said, offering nitroglycerin and aspirin. Eva gave her a cold stare for a moment, silently letting the girl know that she wasn’t in the clear yet, but she gladly accepted the items. Folding back the collar of Herrings’s shirt, she swabbed the nitro on his neck, to be absorbed through the skin. His eyelids fluttered, responding to her touch, and Eva checked his pulse again. “He should be fine,” she said, looking to Ben, and placed the bottle of aspirin in his hands. “Give him two of these when he’s lucid enough to swallow. And keep him calm until Bert shows up. He’ll know what to do from there.” Based on the sound of the sirens, it wouldn’t be long. She looked to Camille. “I don’t know what that was back at the garage, but I am not your enemy, Perrie, and you have a decision to make. You can stay and face a confused, ignorant town that doesn’t understand you… or you can come with me and start again someplace else.”
Camille: Out of the Question She looked to Camille. “I don’t know what that was back at the garage, but I am not your enemy, Perrie, and you have a decision to make. You can stay and face a confused, ignorant town that doesn’t understand you… or you can come with me and start again someplace else.” Ben's temper exploded at Albrite's comment. "Like hell she will!" He roared. Never in his entire twenty-five years had he been so tempted to hit another person. "Anyone who wants to come at Camille will have go through me to do it. I'll arrest the whole goddamned town if I have to." Camille, who had gathered up Mr. Herrings' hand, blinked at Ben, seemingly awestruck as she struggled to find her voice. Her eyes hardened as she focused her dark blue gaze on the doc. "You stabbed me in the thigh with a needle and now you expect me to trust you. My entire life is here. I can't just pack up and bolt. I have friends, family...A home. I'm not a sterile fish like you. There are too many lives, too many factors to even contemplate the option." Beside her Ben relaxed, albeit only slightly, but the small change made him seem far less threatening. Mr. Herrings reached up, vaguely tracing her cheek. "Can't go, Millie...We need you. All I have...The others, gone...so long ago." "Shh..." Camille whispered to him. "I'm not going anywhere. This mess was of my making, and I'll deal with the fallout." Mr. Herrings winced as he swallowed the aspirin Ben offered and said. "This is Minnesota. They will find a way to rationalize away everything they saw, or just go into denial. It is an inherent trait in this part of the world. Nothing weird." "And you need to conserve your strength. Bert should be here soon. Think you can do that?" She asked. Mr. Herrings nodded. Ben fumed in wrathful silence.
"Like hell she will!" Ben snapped. "Anyone who wants to come at Camille will have go through me to do it. I'll arrest the whole goddamned town if I have to." “Yes, you will try,” Eva said dispassionately. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that he would. “No one is more loyal to her than you and that dog, but there are limits to what you are capable of and-” She stopped short when poor Mr. Herrings spoke. Eva felt truly sorry for what had happened to him. She just wanted to keep him out of this, keep him in the dark, but had harmed him in the process. "This is Minnesota. They will find a way to rationalize away everything they saw, or just go into denial,” Herrings said weakly. “It is an inherent trait in this part of the world. Nothing weird." Camille spoke to him, calming the dear old man. Briefly, there were signs of compassion in Eva’s eyes, but the cold determination returned a half second later. She had a heart, but she’d learned to protect it… a lesson Camille needed to learn if she wanted to survive in this world. “I know,” Eva said, casting her eyes down on Herrings. “Few people love this town as much as I do. That’s why every harvest festival, when Bandi Preweitt says to me ‘oh, Angie, you haven’t aged one bit, what’s your secret?’ I just smile and say ‘good diet and plenty of exercise.’ I know she's mocking me, prodding me. Truth is, I want to slap the blond out her hair every time she opens her damned mouth… but I don’t, because I love this town too much to blow my cover like that.” She sighed. “I haven’t aged a day over thirty, Camille. When I was your age, the Second World War hadn't begun yet, cars were still hand-cranked, and an 'internet' was something you catch buterflies with. So, please, excuse me if the idea of two young lovers fighting the world seems a little... silly to me." She leveled her gaze with them both. "I admire your courage, but it is courage born of ignorace. You are only so bold because you don't know the dangers you face. For example..." She fished the envelope from her pocket. "Did you, by any chance, receive one of these today? Someone's onto us. Do you really want to lead that person here, to your friends and loved ones?"
Camille: Alamo... She fished the envelope from her pocket. "Did you, by any chance, receive one of these today? Someone's onto us. Do you really want to lead that person here, to your friends and loved ones?" Camille held her ground as Radish came bounding down the steps. "I've been a danger to everyone around since my first breath. What makes today any different? You say someone is on to us, proof positive that running doesn't do a bit of good. Even if I did leave, who's to say these people, whoever they happen to be, would leave my loved ones alone. If something happens, they have a right to know the truth, as unpalatable as that might be. I'm not going to turn tail and run. We deal with this. Here and now. Find out who sent the letters and who all these out of towners are. If I was given these abilities for a reason, I see no better use for them than in defense of those I love." "Here, here..." Intoned the weakened Mr. Herrings. Ben nodded, pulling Camille close, taking care not to tangle her two central lines. "I have a college buddy who works at the FBI. I'll give him a call, see what he can find out. To see if the government really does have people in town or if this is a rogue issue. Either way, Grygla is going to need some help. We don't know who to trust anymore." Bert's ambulance darkened the big picture window of the Grammar Hammer, his boots echoing among the shelves as he wheeled a gurney toward the small back room. "Don't take it personally, Doc," Camille said. "But I think you've been so afraid of actually allowing life in that you have forgotten how to live. You're frozen, not by your abilities, but by your fear. Forever stuck at 30, never going forward, never looking back. Going through the motions of living, but never actually experiencing its true meaning." Leaning against the warmth of Ben's chest and clinging to Mr. Herrings' hand, she looked thoughtful. "It's almost like you've given up on hope, turned your back on the world and in return, the world turned its back on you. My hope might be a fleeting fancy, but it is a risk I'm willing to take. The price of never knowing, of the could have beens, is just too much." Pulling Radish into her lap, Camille asked, "Do you even remember what it feels like to laugh?"
Sheena returned to her place with her bag of groceries and instantly closed the door. The smashed phone was still there, as was her letter.She however had no intention of going anywhere ever again. She went back to her post on the worn couch the tv reporting more mayhem in the city. This time a fire. Sheena's daily dilemma of boredom took her, what could she do during this time? Or anytime, she ate something, looked out the window, fiddled with her pen and didn't change her rutine until she looked at her journal the one she had gotten. Having nothing else to do she began writing. It's getting late, but as the hour go on I feel more confused. Why did that girl save me? it's a question I have truly been strugling with, why. I wanted to die, why did she interfere? She doesn't know me. I guess there are still some good people in the world, anyway I don't think I have the steel to try killing myself again but. I'm so lonely I doubt staying alive will be much better, I'll go mad. What reason do I have to keep living? that is the biggest question on my mind one I fear I'll never answer. Sheena wrote away oblivious to the fact this would appear on everyone else journal, but being alone in a large house, what else was she to do?
Evangeline “Fine, we’ll try it your way,” Eva said, looking to Camille. “But we have to do this right, for Grygla’s sake.” That was all she had time to say before help arrived. At the front of the store, Bert made his way through the door, toting a gurney with the help of a police officer. “What the heck happened in here?” he grunted, as shattered light bulbs crunched under their boots. “Power surge,” Eva said quickly and gave Herrings a knowing glance. His eyes widened as his mind connected the dots. “That was you?” he mouthed silently. “That… that… thing? How?” Eva only put a finger to her lips. “Shhh…” “Must’ve been one hell of a power surge,” Bert said as he squeezed into the tiny room, careful not to trample anyone. “Did you get zapped?” he asked, looking to Herrings as he set the gurney down. The old man slowly shook his head. “He’s stable, but I think he should spend the night at my place,” Eva said, “for monitoring.” “N-no, no, no, I’m fine,” Herrings said and attempted to rise up, but quit when Bert warned him not to strain himself. Eva smiled, which looked a little out-of-place on her. “I insist.” “C’mon, Mr. Herrings. Let’s get you on this gurney,” Bert said with a friendly smile. He had always been the ‘nice guy’ at the clinic. For all her expertise, Eva didn’t have one tenth of his charisma. He made patients feel comfortable; it seemed to be working on old man Herrings. They loaded the old man up and were about to carry him out, but he caught Camille’s hand as the gurney was lifted. “Don’t leave me alone with that woman,” he whispered to her. “‘That woman’ can hear you,” Eva commented. “And Miss Perrie is coming with us. She needs a proper examination as well. Isn’t that right?” she said, looking to Camille.
Camille: Change of Plans “That woman’ can hear you,” Eva commented. “And Miss Perrie is coming with us. She needs a proper examination as well. Isn’t that right?” she said, looking to Camille. Before Camille could reply Ben interceded, after casting a speaking glance at her two IV lines. "I'll drive her down, Doc. But with both Mr. Herrings and Camille out of the Hammer, Radish will have to come to. We can't leave him alone here tonight." Camille's dark blue eyes flashed with icy fire. "Benjamin Hanson, has anyone ever told you that payback is a bitch." Bert hooted with laughter. Ben couldn't resist provoking Camille just a little bit, not after the hell she had put him through. "We'll even bring dinner." Camille shot back. "Who said I would even get in the car with you, you lout?" "Well, apparently Bert because he and the Doc are already out the door." As if to confirm his statement, the silver bell of the Grammar Hammer clanged merrily. As the paramedics left, Ben locked the door securely behind them and flipped over the Closed sign. "Come on, Cami, I'll run you back upstairs and then get this mess cleaned up. Don't bother unpacking the groceries. We'll take them along." Radish barked in whole hearted agreement. Once Camille was back in her loft, she quickly collected the items she required for an overnight stay, muttering dire recompense under her breath the entire time. If it were anyone, but Mr. Herrings she would have said no, but he was the first teacher, who had openly encouraged her curiosity and didn't begrudge her her brains. Quickly she disconnected the empty IV bags and tossed them in the trash bin under the sink. Another moment saw her central lines concealed beneath her collarbones. She grimaced at her bloodied sundress. Nice thing about sundresses. Easy on, easy off. Leaving the grimy one crumpled on the bathroom floor, she hurried to her closet and threw a clean one over her head. This one, a bright, sunny yellow that showed of her milky skin and dark blue eyes. With her bag packed, she whistled for Radish, who had been watching Ben sweep up the broken glass. "Ready?" Ben asked, coming up the steps. Camille nodded. "Take the groceries down first. I can manage the ten steps down to the car. Come on, Radish." Clipping on his lead, she followed Ben out the door. Having stowed the dog and groceries, he glanced over at Camille. She still wasn't happy, but she wasn't livid. It was a step in the right direction. "I called Pete's Electric while you were upstairs. He'll be over to replace the fuse box and the lights in the morning. I also found this..." He said, dropping the letter and photo into her lap as he nosed the Jetta into traffic.
Ina Holt "I'm gonna have a heck of a time gettin' these new gloves on. Once we get out of here, ya mind helpin' me?" Baley asked, as she reached where Ina stood. "Uh...ya doin' okay, Ina?" She was eyeing Ina's newly green sleeve. "Yes, I'm fine," Ina winced, "Just got some dust in my eye. Listen, I need to get out of here. I can help with your gloves, but we need to go." She made for the door, still not pulling her soaked sleeve from her eye. It still hadn't stopped leaking. This was not good, it usually stopped moments after using her power. You shouldn't have used it again! She hissed mentally. As she reached the door, she bumped into someone, "Sorry." She muttered, looking up to see a bald man looking at her. "You alright?" He asked, watching green liquid running down Ina's arm like a faucet. He didn't look very surprised by what he was seeing, which concerned Ina. "Yes, fine," Ina said, "Excuse me." She pushed past the man, noticing a sheet of paper in his hand. "What the-" She spun around, but the man was gone, hidden within the crowd of tourists. "Baley!" She called, before the door closed, "Hurry up!"
Liriope Liriope woke the next day with a raging hangover from too many ginger beers and the haunting memory of scary teen witches (from watching The Craft). He washed his armpits and sprayed on some cologne, but didn't change clothes--he lived the 'French lifestyle', only bathing two or three times a week and wearing the same clothes twice in a row. But he did put on a floorlength ruby-purple cardigan and raked back his hair with his fingers. Then he was out the door. On the way to the carving shop, Liriope snatched a bagel from the trashcan that someone had bitten and then thrown out. People are so wasteful. He ripped off the bitten part and chowed down. A skip later and he was standing outside the meeting spot where he told that street girl, Ina, that he would be waiting. He stood there waiting, munching his trash meal, and happened to glimpse her through the shop window, holding her sleeve to her eye. Behind her was another girl Liriope had never seen before. He decided to wait for them to come out before he comfronted them.
Alan “The bike was a death trap!” Pushing away the threat, Teddy gave an unseen spark to the Alan’s chest to give him an extra little sting. “I told you that battery was the problem, it blasted me half way across the garage.” The icy stare Teddy gave could have chilled anyone, and he followed up by stabbing a finger towards the blazing inferno. “Your damn bike did that!” Alan bounced back, feeling a little shock in his chest, and he sensed a familiar energy too it, in fact the air was practically buzzing, but he couldn't tell the source. Were there others like him here? No, couldn't be... "Look bro, batteries don't just explode for no good reason! Only time I know of that happening is if you charge it with the poles reversed!" Alan snapped, looking at the burned out building. "And I'm glad you're alright, but fact is, you wouldn't be if I hadn't come to save your stupid a**!" He was in no mood to be accused of anything. "And as for my bike not being safe, that's why I took it to a mechanic, to get it fixed, dip s***!" "Young man, you need to calm down," a fireman said, approaching. "This isn't the time for this." Then addressing both of them he asked, "Are you both okay? C'mon over here to the truck so they can look you over." "When would it be a good time exactly, I'll make a note of it in my schedule and get back to you!" Alan exclaimed irately. "I'm stranded in a tiny town in northern Minnesota, with no money and no transportation, explain to me why this isn't a good time to freak out!" "Sir, I understand, but I'm just trying to help here," the firefighter responded, and Alan felt a twinge of guilt for snapping at him. "Sorry," he said, then reluctantly went over to the ambulance that had arrived and let them look him over. When asked about what happened to his hand, he replied that he had tripped and fallen on some debris in the shop. Finally, once they had given him a clean bill of health, and bandaged his hand, he went over to the mechanic once again. "I'm going to go get a room somewhere, but I'll be back, and when I am, I want you to explain to me what you're going to do about this," he said, spitefully, then turned away. Funny how a day can be going good, and then literally go up in flames.
Shyla "Hey, Camille! You should see the fuse box!" Shyla yelled as she made her way to where she had last Camille. She crossed the floor of the Grammer Hammer quickly, still talking. "It's like someone took an electric hammer and...Camille?" Shyla stopped in front of the door. No one was anywhere to be seen. She heard the sound of sirens and looked out the window. Officer Hanson's Jetta (with Camille in the passenger seat) and an ambulance took off out of the parking lot. Huh...something serious must have happened to Mr. Henderson for her to take off like that. Hope he's ok...oh God, I just told her my secret. Uncle Walter is going to kill me. Camille better not tell anyone...I doubt she would considering she has a secret of her own. Well, this day just turned out to be one-of-a-kind. And it isn't even dinner time yet.
Eva, performing a routine check-up What a day this is turig out to be, Eva thought, taking a moment to reflect on all that happened. She sat behind the wheel of her car, where she'd parked it in the alley behind the Grammar Hammer. Worst of all, the day wasn't even over yet. She would be having dinner with Camille and Ben tonight. They knew her secret. Herrings knew too. Worst dinner party ever. With a sigh, Eva turned the key in the ignition and reversed out of the alley. But, as he came aroud the frot of teh Grammar Hammer, she found Shyla standing outside. Hmm... I early forgot about her, Eva thought a she slowly drove up. What's her role in this? What was she doing in Camille's room? She had to find out. The doctor didn't like loose ends. What done this girl know? "Excuse me," Eva said, pulling up to the curb and rolling down her window. She gestured for Shyla to come closer. "Are you looking for Camille? She's fine. Officer Hanson is taking her to the clinic for a proper check-up. Mr. Herrings is okay, too. It's nothing to worry about." Her gaze slowly looked Shyla up and down, assessing her. "Or is something else on your mind? You seem a little... lost."
