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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:03 pm 
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Apocalyptic Daria: Twilight Friday - The Darkness Unleashed

Written by Brother Grimace


Based on Apocalyptic Daria, by Doggieboy




NOTE: Due to the nature of the subject matter, this work of fan fiction is rated TV-MA-DLSV. It contains scenes of graphic violence and sexual situations.

This fan fiction may not be appropriate for some readers.




The following events take place immediately after the events in Apocalyptic Daria: Twilight Friday, Part Three, when Colonel Armalin is informed of the cities destroyed in the limited nuclear exchange between the United States and China.




*****

TRENT

*****




“Damn. It’s always just below the surface, isn’t it?”

Trent’s car didn’t slow as he went down Dega Street; a man with desperation in his eyes – and rifle in hand - tried to force him to stop

When the man pointed the rifle at the car, a single round from Trent’s .44 Magnum hit the man just above his left eye. The last sight Trent had of the man was him dropping to his knees, with part of his skull missing - and someone running out from a building to pick up the dead man’s weapon before they started to search through his pockets …

“Please be okay, Monique,” Trent thought aloud, as he lowered his right hand to the seat yet kept the handgun in a slightly-loosened grip. “Please be okay.”


*****


Trent’s face went ashen as he saw the door of Monique’s apartment smashed open, with the sound of drunken laughter within.

A pair of mirth-filled voices spoke up; as they did, Trent pulled the hammer back on his handgun.

“Goth chicks fuck good, don’t they?”

“Hey, you know that skinny little chick that used to hang out with her – that blue-eyed chick from school, the one who ran track for about five minutes or so?”

Trent recognized the voices; it was two of the football players from Lawndale – punks who got away with a lot because they won, and no one wanted to mess things up (even if it meant their daughters weren’t safe).

“Yeah – Jane Lane! Let’s roll over to her house and see if artists are freaks like everybody says! Dude – she’s almost dead, get up off her!”

A third voice, youthful yet heavy from exertion, barked off an evil laugh. “Not yet! Like that old coffee commercial said, ‘she’s good to the last drop!”

Trent had heard enough. More than enough.

The two players that were standing to the side watching their friend rape Monique locked their eyes on Trent as he stepped into the room. Recognition appeared on their faces, then a twisted form of surprised joy as the pleasure they would get draped across their faces…

That joy metastasized into disbelief and even blanket confusion on the rapists’ faces, but neither had time to react before two explosions seemed to go off in the room; their eyes locked with Trent and tracked down to the .44 Magnum in his hand to see fire explode from the barrel.

Trent put two rounds from his hand-cannon into the junctions between both of the bastards’ legs.

The first one grunted; he managed to remain standing, but stumbled backwards and fell through the window. Caught by his pants as he hung from the third-floor apartment window, his legs torn by the broken window glass, the young punk gurgled out low, pitiful cries for help as his own blood began to drain down over him.

The second rapist shrieked as his penis and scrotum exploded; vomit spewed from his mouth as he looked down at his shattered genitals before he fell over and shuddered with pain, his face covered with tears as he grabbed for his destroyed manhood and tried to crawl away.

The third player – he couldn’t have been any older than Jane or Daria, Trent noted – was still on his knees, with Monique shuddering in pain, her face and body already disfigured with bruises, bloody and almost beyond recognition as the little punk was still penetrating her.

Trent lowered the barrel of his .44 at the boy. “Get. Up.”

Monique let out a barely-audible gasping as the rapist looked at the boy who lay on the floor less than two feet away, vomiting again as he began to pray to God for help, promising anything if He could make all of this not happen, to take away the pain…

The third rapist pulled himself from Monique. The sound of her whimper as he did so, like the sound of a mortally-injured animal, hoping for someone to come take the pain away or just end them as a kindness, sucked all possible feeling for the boy before him from Trent and into absolute darkness, an abyss which held no remorse or recognition of humanity whatsoever for him now, regardless of what was to come.

The boy rose; he started to pull his pants up when Trent pulled the hammer back on his weapon.

For a moment, the boy actually appeared as if he was trying to figure out something, anything to say in order to get out of this situation; his mouth worked, but nothing could come forth…

Three rounds struck him.

The first heavy slug struck directly above the point where his penis extended from his body. The second landed less than a centimeter higher and microseconds later; it was as if Trent had fired two rounds simultaneously.

The third .44 Magnum round struck one half-inch higher; even with the robotic aim and grip Trent exerted upon the weapon, the recoil still lifted the barrel and delivered it to devastating effect in the area he wished.

All three rounds passed straight through flesh and bone (Trent was less than one yard away when he fired the gun) to effectively sever the boy into two parts from the waist down; he dropped to the floor like a puppet with broken strings, already forgotten as Trent grabbed a blanket and wrapped Monique in it, gentle as she moaned with pain from every touch.

Humanity and a tone that pleaded for forgiveness filtered through the words Trent forced from his lips. “Monique, it’s me.”

Hope was a distant light in the young woman’s eyes as she opened them with effort. “Trent?”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of you…”

*****

Monique died three minutes later.

Trent wrapped her body in blankets, and made certain to get her ID; pain almost split him in half and forced tears from him as he recalled her laughter; her constant reminder to always make sure that he had his ID on him, and frequent checks through her own pockets to ensure that she carried her own, as well.

He slid her driver’s license and her community college ID into the pocket of her black khakis that he carefully slid upon her; Trent dressed her, quickly, knowing how her bowels and bladder would release but still unwilling to allow her that loss of dignity, to remain unclothed, lain bare from the attack that took her life for all to see…

I couldn’t save her. This, I can do.

He cleared the spent shells from his gun and inserted fresh rounds; keeping the gun close at hand, he then began to work.

Trent wrapped Monique’s body in blankets. He went to the kitchen to get a couple of large garbage bags; once more, tears threatened to flow freely as he recalled her cleaning mania, and how it was a shame that she’d gotten into the habit of bringing a box of garbage bags over when she would visit, so she could force him out of bed and shame him into cleaning up things…

Four bags allowed him to wrap Monique thoroughly; two more blankets and he was finished with his task.

He stepped away from the body of his friend, and mechanically went through the pockets of the three rapists; he took their ID cards - and after a moment’s recollection of what Old Socrates mentioned percolated up in his mind, he took whatever cash they had, and took the very nice watch and ring of the rapist whose penis he shot off.

Old Socrates was an older gentleman from the commune he and Jane spent time on as kids. A Vietnam veteran whose time ‘in country’ had never really left him, it was he who taught the Lane siblings how to shoot, taught them other tricks on how to stay alive and get out of bad situations.

When the siblings left, the man gave Trent the .44 (which he’d shown a remarkable innate skill with) in case things happen. “My mother always said that it’s better to have and not need, than to need and not have,” he told Trent. “She had the old .45 wheelgun my grandfather brought back from WWI, and it runs in the family, I guess.”

“I like it,”Trent agreed. “Jane’s more of a long-gun type, though.”

“God help anyone on the receiving end if that one gets hold of an AK and bothers you or someone else she cares about,” Old Socrates agreed. “In your case, if things ever happen - that hand-cannon will make the bastards wish they never rose up on you.”

Once more, Trent looked around the filthy room, now foul with the scents of sex, blood, voided bladders & bowels, and the spent powder from the heavy loads Trent used in his gun.

If this is SHTF, like Old Socrates said - people might not take money for a while, if ever again - but they will trade for stuff. This is the least you bastards can do now… besides die slow.


*****


Trent carried the makeshift burial shroud that held his friend down to his car, and gently placed it in the back seat. He was about to get into the driver’s seat when agony drew his attention away for a moment…

The mournful sound of the rapist hanging from the window caught his attention. He watched the young man shudder and try to lift himself up; as he fell back and low gasps of pain bubbled away from the young man, Trent got into his car, started the engine, and drove away.

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:06 pm 
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*****

JAKE


*****




Jake walked away from the Lawndale High School football field, a casual feel to his walk as he reloaded his .45 with a fresh clip.

He got into his car, and put the bag he’d taken from Coach Gipson on the seat next to him – a bag with several guns and ammo, all taken from several of the punks who made up the football team.

They made the mistake of not seeing just how dangerous Jake Morgendorffer really was… especially if you mentioned doing bodily harm to the women in his life..

Apparently, punks were always ready and able to find weapons. The players and their coach - an asshole named Gipson, Jake recalled - had instantly dropped down to their baser instincts, ready to go out and rape and kill. They had eagerly, gleefully admitted as much as they drew weapons, letting Jake know exactly what they were going to do to him before they left to find Helen, and Quinn, and especially Daria…

The imagined sound of his ‘Kiddo’ screaming in horror and pain; the image of one of these animals on top of his child, defiling her, tearing into her simply to hurt her - and for what? Because she was a smarter person - no, a better person when she was a little girl than all of you fucking beasts would have even been if each and every one of you rancid, sideways-walking, greasy-mouthed, glory-hole cocksuckers had lived to be older than Moses, Job and Methuselah combined - THAT’S why you want to hurt my little girl?

When you arrive in Hell, let Old Scratch and my Dad know that good ol’ Jakey’s the one who’s running the elevator that sent all of you down - will you do that for me, boys? Will ya?


Jake Morgendorffer’s time at Buxton Ridge had not been wasted.

Eleven bodies – ten players and Coach Gipson – lay in the now bloodied locker room, where Jake had gone after seeing a number of cars pull up to the field, looking for a clue for his daughters; each had a single hole somewhere in their head.

The .45 ACP round has a proven record for being an all-purpose ‘man-stopping’ round that has endured for over a century. With the thought of keeping his wife and daughters save from all comers, Jake Morgendorffer paid homage to the legend of the M1911A1 pistol and the iconic round it delivers - and he paid it with the blood of the unjust.

The remaining players lay silent across the playing field and the parking lot, each one with a single bullet hole in his head. Jake had drilled for years and years on how to shoot effectively with the .45, as his father had wanted, and with the words of those boys – those animals – and the images of their promised made real in his mind, he simply shut down and let reflex take over…

Sight in your target.

Squeeze the trigger. Let the weapon guide you. It wants to be a part of you; be one with the weapon.

Fire.

Shift to the next target.

Repeat until the slide locks back.

Hit the magazine release.

Extract the magazine.

Replace with a fresh magazine.

Release the slide to chamber a fresh round.

Track on your next target.

Squeeze the trigger once more. Remember to let the weapon guide you. It wants to be a part of you; be one with the weapon.

Repeat until all targets have been serviced.



*****

Jake sat in the car for a moment. With adrenaline surging in his veins and finding his daughters foremost in his mind, he didn’t really notice just how hard he was sweating, or the shallow, wheezing manner in which he was starting to breathe…

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:12 pm 
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Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

HELEN

*****




Helen moved slowly down the stairs as the doorbell rang again, and the most unexpected of voices came from the other side.

“Helen – it’s me! Eric! Let me in!”

She had already chambered a round in her .45 as she stopped three steps from the bottom. “Eric – go away! You need to get out of town, right away!”

“That’s why I came over!” the annoying voice that she had grown to loathe replied. “I came to get you out of town – it’s dangerous here!”

“I’m waiting for Jake to come back! I’ll be okay!”

There was an ominous moment of silence. “Jake’s not here? You’re all alone?”

The sudden, predatory tone that slithered into her supervisor’s voice could not be ignored. “Let me in, Helen. Let me in. Now.”

Helen’s answer would be lost forever as the explosive sound of a gun - a big gun, from the sound of it - going off next to the wall, immediately followed by the solid thud of something heavy as it struck hard against the door.

Her gun ready, Helen opened the door to see Eric’s body suddenly roll away from the door and slump off to the side of the stairs, half of his skull shot away – and Trent on the other side of the stairs, calm as he extracted the spent shell from his pistol and drew his foot back.

“Raping bastards like him killed Monique.” He put a fresh shell in his wheel-gun, and looked with distaste of the body he had just kicked off the stairs. “He was, like, your boss or something, right?”

“One of the partners at my law firm.”

For a moment, Helen felt cheated at not being the one to put several bullets in the lecherous Eric, a partner at her firm and the bastard who’d convinced her to relocate her family from Texas with the promise of a partnership in less than five years - but in reality was only stringing her along to do his dirty work while taking the credit, all the while scheming to find a way to bed her…

A year earlier, Helen accepted the fact that he was never going to help her get that partnership - so just as soon as she helped put her girls through college, she was going to get her client files, give her notice and walk. Of course, that wouldn’t go without turning over every little thing she’d been holding onto to hand over to the police and gut him without harming the other partners - especially Jim Vitale. She had the strangest feeling that Vitale was quite aware of what would happen, and was sitting back without interfering, as if waiting to enjoy the inevitable show…

Seeing him perp-walked would have been even more enjoyable than this - but seeing Eric Schrecter tits-and-toes-up, feeding next years’ crop of radioactive dandelions with that half-a-brain he’s always had sprayed over the front lawn?

I can live with that.


Helen stepped outside the door and hugged the young man. “Thank you, Trent – and now, come inside. Jake will be back at any moment, and from what’s probably happened-”

Trent pushed aside the sensation of Helen’s soft curves pressing against him with the only thought that mattered to him now. “Have you heard from Jane?”

The concern in Trent’s voice for his sister (even more than the way he’d shot Eric down without remorse the instant he made his intentions for her clear) convinced Helen that the young man wasn’t anything resembling a threat.

Helen went silent; she glanced away from Trent to Eric’s body, and took Trent’s hand to lead him into her home.

“We’ll talk inside – where it’s safer.”

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:17 pm 
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Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

BRITTANY

*****




Regardless of what the general consensus was about Brittany Taylor – the young woman was not remotely as dumb as some would have thought.

When the sound of the bombs drew her from her sleep – and the news stations that she actually paid attention to (it would have stunned Jodie and Daria to know that she was as knowledgeable on current and world events as they were) were off the air, the young woman knew that the worst she could think of would be overshadowed by what Real Life could bring.

Ashley-Amber and Grandpa always told me what people might do if something bad happens – and they didn’t hold back.

“A girl like you is going to have every punk, sleazeball and so-called ‘nice guy’ trying to pull your pants off and screw you raw because he’s always wanted to screw you, or because he wants to grudge-fuck you ‘till you scream because you didn’t give him the time of day or because he didn’t have the balls to man up and talk to you like a normal person instead of whatever he saw you as that he put up on a pedestal.

Protect yourself. If the lights go out, or there’s a flood or a hurricane, or anything that means that there won’t be any police or anyone in charge to make sure that people don’t just go savage in a heartbeat… you need to protect yourself. If you have to, shoot them - shoot them again, if they deserve shooting, they deserve killing – don’t hesitate, and don’t look back.”


She put on a pair of loose-fitting jeans, a heavy flannel shirt and the broken-in boots that she always wore when out hiking or off hunting (something else the LHS crowd would have been stunned to learn about her); she checked her hunting jacket to make sure that her gloves were inside, as well as her eye protection.

Brittany opened the wall safe in the bathroom, right behind the mirror; she took out her .45 Colt Single Action Army pistol, still in its leather case, along with full two boxes of shells – all the rounds she had for it – and the holster for the gun.

Her thoughts were to get things as if she were going hunting, as well as the important papers (so she wouldn’t have to come back; that had been drilled into her since she was a little girl). As she put the papers and her gun in her backpack (her ‘bug-out bag’, as Grandpa called it - all the things she’d need to survive for three days away from home in the event of something really bad, like that hurricane that hit last year), she was glad that her younger brother was gone off on that trip to the mountains, so he would be safe…

She looked back in the safe, saw the tiny pistol, and took it in hand.

Brittany liked the little gun – a Ruger LCP, it was a gift from Ashley-Amber (who had her own just like it and never left home without it on her person); she got it for Brittany on her sixteenth birthday.

“It’s not meant for killing someone, Brittany,” Ashley-Amber said, her face somber as she gave her the gun and two boxes of high-quality, hollow-point rounds for it. “It’s to make them stop attacking. Shoot them in the face, their stomach or their balls – and keep shooting until they stop coming at you.”

The girl looked at the gun. She checked to see that the safety was on, stuffed it and the two extra magazines into her jeans pocket, and closed the safe before she stuffed the remaining box of .380 Speer Gold-Dot ammo into her bag.

If I have to use it, I want it right on me – and if anybody tries to jump me, they’ll be so busy staring at my boobs that they won’t notice my hands.

Brittany stopped and thought for a moment; she took the flannel shirt off , put on one of her tight woolen sweaters (her favorite, it was bright pink and so warm) and stuffed the shirt in her backpack. While she’d always keep her jacket zipped up, any attention would be drawn to the way the soft material molded around her upper body when she took it off. She’d learned long ago how to keep the attention of guys when she needed to, and a sweater was always considered the classy way to show off her assets and be sexy without getting openly slut-shamed by other girls and older women who were either jealous of her figure, or the attention she was getting from any men in sight.

Nobody will be thinking about anything but the way they bounce, she thought – any almost as an afterthought, grabbed two sports bras and the fanciest bra she owned, and stuffed them into her backpack before she quickly took the sweater off, stripped out of her bra, tossed it aside and put a fresh sports bra on.

I may need to distract somebody, but I don’t have to bounce around like Mom did in that horror movie! Guys don’t realize that big boobs swinging around everywhere may look hot to them, but God, it hurts your - everything!

Brittany pulled her sweater and coat back on – and stopped. I can’t believe I almost forgot that!

The cute blonde bounced over to her nightstand, scooped her smartphone up, and stuffed it in her coat pocket before she turned to look around. She didn’t notice that the screen showed several missed calls – from Kevin, and the last, from Jodie Landon.

*****

Three minutes later, Brittany had walked down the stairs to the main floor of the Taylor manor.

She sat her backpack down against a wall, took a deep breath, and began to look around the room. She moved slowly, with more depth in her eyes than anyone who knew her would have ever imagined, as she took in everything; every painting, every piece of furniture, all of the photographs, the replacement for the crystal megaphone that her father had gotten her.

Brittany looked about the room as if to remember everything that had ever happened in this room; a profound sadness swept through her, as if in that moment, she fully realized the truth of what was going to happen, as if something in her mind grasped the reality that regardless of what was about to happen, she would never be able to return to this, the only home she had ever known-

Pain and darkness suddenly overcame her.

As Brittany tumbled to the floor, her brother Brian stood over her, the shovel he’d just used on her in hand. He came up from behind, almost surprised that he had been able to sneak up one his sister (unlike others, he wasn’t blind to how aware she actually was of the world around her, or how dangerous she could truly be)…

Brian looked down at Brittany’s insensate form. The twisted look and smile he wore when small, defenseless animals were on hand formed across his face as he used his left foot to push her over.

His smile grew even more pronounced and lurid as he turned his sister on her back, and saw how her breasts moved…

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:29 pm 
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Sh33p Pig
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

STEVE

*****




It pays to have connections. That’s what college, fraternities, drinking buddies and in-laws are for.

That piece of advice, given to him as a teenager, was the thought that kept a smile on Steve Taylor’s face as he drove his Mercedes Gladiator down a back road through Carter County.

It’s probably the only reason why I didn’t get roasted with the rest of D.C. - and those Landon assholes. I could have warned Andrew and his bitch-queen Michelle, but they don’t ever want to hear anything out of my mouth, so FUCK THEM!

He smiled as he felt the comforting hardness of the 9mm H&K pistol in his belt holster, pressed up against his body... and thought of the shotgun in the trunk of his Gladiator.

That’s something else connections gets you - carry permits for you, your wife and your daughter. ‘A good and substantial reason’ why I want to be able to carry, and why my girls need to be able to carry?Because we’re rich and FUCK YOU, that’s why I want those permits!

That phone call I got from ‘Dulcet’ - Lucas loved it when I tagged him with that name in our frat and he tagged me with ‘Thumper’ because I went through girls like a rabbit, and I got him because he can’t sing to save his life - now, THAT’S what you call fucking payback! I got him through statistics, I got him hooked up with that internship at Foggy Bottom after I banged that secretary, I got him laid every weekend during our junior year; he owed me.

“Thumper - get the fuck up! Where are you?”

“Dulcet? I’m in Georgetown - I’m about to go to some luncheon for the Senate and House members-”

“FUCK that! Shit’s about to go down for the last time! Get the fuck up and rolling - they’re at DEFCON Two, and it really looks like we’re all going to start throwing the big shit all over! Run, man! Grab your lady and your kids and start the fuck running NOW!”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.”

“Dude - I owe you.”


Lucas Hannon - people in the U.S. Government also knew him as DULCET, or the U.S. Undersecretary of State - was aboard Air Force One (which had just landed at Fortress America, a secret government shelter under a mountain in Central Missouri) to secure the First Family.

Normally, he’d have been in D.C., but the Secretary of State was stuck in a Denver hospital with a serious case of bronchitis (it had been decided that it was too severe for him to be moved unnecessarily), and Lucas had taken his place for a quick flight to Ottawa when the alerts went out, and the plane was diverted to “FA’… of course, the Secret Service didn’t want anyone to call out and actually confiscated phones - but he always carried a tiny flip phone for emergencies.

Lucas went to the toilet and made three quick calls. One to his wife, one ‘Get the fuck out of Dodge, compadres!’ text that went out to all of his frat brothers (even the ones he didn’t like; connections, you know, and they’d owe him) - and one to his main man Thumper.

He had ended his call to Thumper with a bit of hope: Move your ass and make it through this funky shit, my man. If you do - drop a line to that place where we’d get crazy at the end of the year.

Steve smiled, thinking of Lucas’ last words to him as he blew past a sign that announced that the speed limit was fifty miles an hour. That’s the thing I always liked about Dulcet - he had a sixth sense about when bad shit was coming down, like Radar back on M*A*S*H. God knows he saved us all time and time again.

He had just passed the sign that said ‘Lawndale - 5 miles’ when the sound of the two explosions rattled him enough that he skidded to a stop.

FUCK. Dulcet, if I ever see you again, I’ll let you fuck anything you want. You just point it out and I will make that shit happen. Your balls will never be dry, ever again.

Steve wasn’t worried about anything like an EMP - or for that matter, anyone trying to carjack him, put stuff in the road to blow out his tires, or shoot him up with an assault rifle, shotgun or even an RPG round. Deciding long ago that Brian (his only son and an absolute disappointment, even at thirteen years of age) wouldn’t need college money as much as he would need money for a very good lawyer and the funds necessary to get him sentenced to a good secure-care facility like Adelaide Gardens - let alone need an inheritance, he went ahead and spent over four million on the handmade, built to order/on request hybrid vehicle.

It had the sort of advanced options that a Russian or Italian mobster, a Middle Eastern royal or high-level government figure or South American drug kingpin would buy - not just for the bragging rights, but out of necessity.

They gave Steve the full rundown on all available options for the Gladiator, and it sounded like something straight out of a Bond movie if Q were the hero for once. Holy shit! You can drive this car through a burning house, or into a lake and drive the motherfucker right onto the beach like Roger Moore did in The Spy Who Loved Me!

When Steve made his order (and paid the entire amount up front), the head of Mercedes-Benz himself arrived to congratulate him on his purchase, present him with two bottles of Dalmore 62 Single Highland malt scotch - and invite him to spend a weekend at his private getaway near the Austrian border, where he skied to his heart’s content, had meals made for him by a former Iron Chef Italian who was particularly skilled with vegetables & wines… and enjoyed the many exquisite charms of several model-quality beauties who were also invited up for the weekend for his pleasure.

Of course - that shit doesn’t matter right now.

Ashley-Amber made the right call, tagging along as a chauffeur on the Sloanes’ ski trip up in Canada this weekend - and even that little bastard Brian will make it through this. I just need to get Brittany and get the fuck out of here; once we hit the road, we can get somewhere where it’s safe.


Steve allowed a moment of reality to wash over him.

Even if this really is the end of the world. I still have to try and save my kid.

*****

Ten minutes later, the Gladiator had silently crossed through the well-tended lawns of Crewe Neck to stop at the back entrance of his home. (Steve had learned some of the tricks that the salesmen had taught him about the car - for example, if you have teenagers, switching over to electric allowed you to approach silently and catch your kids in the act. They’re always up to something when you leave. That’s what kids do.)

The slightly-ajar back door - and the fact that no alarms were going off, not even the automatic circuit that would cause all of the lights in the house to start blinking wildly and alert anyone watching that someone had broken into the mansion (a selling point for all of the homes in the gated community) instantly alerted him that something was severely wrong.

For a person that some people had mistakenly thought of as ‘not aware’, like his daughter Steve Taylor was nothing of the sort. Crude and irritable, yes, but with insight and intelligence that was overlooked by his low-level lechery and foul mouth when angry.

People like his wife, for example, who thought that he didn’t know that she was learning all about the laws necessary to take him to the cleaners in a divorce - and didn’t realize that the minutiae of the pre-nup she signed ensured that she’d be lucky to leave with the money needed to put all of her belongings in storage while she tried to find a very cheap place to live in the bad parts of Baltimore.

My money and things are going to Brittany - and you should have read that pre-nup closely. You don’t want to have kids ‘just yet’ - fine. The shyster you hire’s going to find that you fucked yourself with that one, because in Maryland, ‘equitable division’ isn’t anything like ‘community property’. The division of assets has to be fair, if not necessarily equal - and I wanted another kid. If you’d given me a kid, you’d have cleaned up because that would have been a equal division in my eyes - a kid for me, cash for you - but no kid, no payday.

Better hope you can find a sugar daddy up there in the Great White North, AA. If things hadn’t headed down the toilet, you’d have been trying to get a shot as a weather-girl here, once you decided to pull the divorce hammer on me.


Steve forced himself back to the here and now. Pistol in hand as he exited the car, he scanned across the area before he popped the trunk, extracted his shotgun and re-holstered his handgun before he turned his attention back to the door…

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:31 pm 
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Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

JAKE

*****




This is like a bad movie.

Jake picked up a pistol from the hands of the dead man; he dimly recognized him as someone that he’d seen at a few of the Polk High home games that he’d attended.

“Hey. Morgendorffer. It’s ‘Morgendorffer’, right?”

The cop in the Lawndale P.D. uniform looked shaken, but grateful. “Hey, thanks for saving my ass. These guys would’ve planted me for certain, if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You save people all the time. Just trying to pay it back!”

For a moment, Jake sounded like his old self - and then, he looked down at the bodies of the three men that he’d killed; again, each one had died of a single shot to the head.

“Jesus. Three head shots from a moving car - are you a lefty?

“No…” The enormity of what he’d had to do was starting to press down upon Jake.

“Really? You’re like Bruce Willis in the Die Hard movies, or in Red!” The officer looked at the other dead men. “Hey - do you need another gun?”

Jake looked at the guns in the hands of the other dead men. “That one has a .45. I’ll take that one, and his magazines.”

He bet down to take two spare magazines from the belt of the man he had relieved of his .45, ejected the magazine, and inspected it as the policeman held out the spare magazines and the pistol he took from the other dead man.

“Here you go, sir. Take this one, too - even if you don’t use it, you can give it to somebody else to protect themselves.”

Jake accepted the guns and magazines; after putting them on his front seat, he turned back. “You’re going to be okay, Officer?”

The cop took on a grim look as he went to the trunk of his patrol car, and drew an M-4 assault rifle out. “They kept me from getting this out. I’ll be fine getting back to the station. You need help getting home?”

“I’m good. I need find my daughters. I have a couple of places to check - and then, I have to get back home to my wife.”

The cop looked unsure - but a guy who shot like Jake did wasn’t to be pushed around even if you had a good rifle and knew how to use it. As a Marine Gulf War vet, the cop knew how to use his rifle, but to his eyes, Jake reminded him of all of the Force Recon and other Special Ops guys from back then…

“If you can - get down to the station,” he told Jake. “Anybody that shoots like you do is someone we can use, and things are definitely going to get worse. If these local idiots are acting out, just wait until some of the trash from the county starts showing up - or God help us, some of those crazy types out of Baltimore.”

The cop took several magazines for the rifle out of the trunk. “I won’t get taken by surprise again - hey, are you okay?”

Jake hadn’t noticed that his sweating had kicked in once more. “Oh… I guess I’m more scared than I thought.”

The cop didn’t seem convinced. “Look - we can send someone to your place. Maybe we should run you over to the hospital, get you checked out-”

“I need to find my daughters.”

The cop watched as Jake got into his car, and left without another word.

“Thank you for my life, Mister Morgendorffer,” the cop said, crossing himself as he watched Jake’s car disappear around a corner. “May God be with you and yours.”

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:39 pm 
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Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

BRIAN

*****




Damn, that was a good hit!

Brittany lay in front of him, barely conscious, her forehead speckled like freckles with her own blood; he gently lay the shovel aside as he leaned down to poke at her neck, and smiled as a gentle, keening sound escaped her lips.

She sounds like the cat I got with the weed-whacker… that was fun. Hey, look at how her boobs bounce…

Brian spent a couple of minutes in joy as he kicked his sister just to hear her murmur in pain, and to watch how her breasts heaved with each assault; he smiled as he took a tiny razor-dispenser box from his jacket pocket, and went down on one knee to reach under her sweater with the blade.

I can cut her bra off without looking - oooh, sports bra! Broke up with Kevin again, huh, big sis? Hey, if I see him, I’ll gut his dick off and bring it back for you - I’ll bring back his head, so he can ‘motorboat’ you one more time, and then stick it between your legs! A head giving some head - and if he shows up, I’ll cut your head off so you can give him head, too!

Hey - why don’t I stick your heads on the fire hydrants just before you turn to come up here? That was, you’ll both be a-head of the curve! First time for that, right - Got it!


With a surprising skill at using the razor, Brian had made a couple of cuts with the amazingly sharp, new blade, withdrew his hand from under his sister’s sweater.

Never had a single lesson. Not a single drop of blood.

He tossed away the razor. It can never be used for a lesser purpose. That’s what that guy said in the movie about the razors he used to cut people. I have to get that DVD before I get out of here, too.

Brian reached beneath Brittany’s sweater and probed about; the sound of tearing fabric accompanied his hand as it withdrew with Brittany’s bra in hand, and Brian laughed as her unrestrained breasts immediately sprang upward.

And, the boobies are now standing! God, I loved that movie.

The boy took another razor from the dispenser box. Okay. Everybody thinks that you’re so great because you have a pretty face and big boobs, so it’s okay if your head if your head is empty… oh, and I know that you can fight. That reminds me…

Brittany quivered in pain as Brian kicked her in the head again.

That’ll keep you from getting up and going all Buffy anytime soon - so you won’t be, right! Yeah, a pretty face…

Brian got back down on one knee, and ran the edge of the razor across the entire length of Brittany’s face; the barest, most gentle of touches of the edge as it traveled slowly down the right side, an almost loving, biting caress, from the top of her forehead at the center, just before her scalp, down just before her ear, and along the jawline to end at the bottom of her jaw…

He tossed away the blade and drew forth another; the young woman grimaced in pain as he repeated his previous action in reverse with such precision that a cosmetic surgeon would have been impressed.

The psychotic boy suddenly stood, tossed away the blade in triumph, and watched as a needle-thin line of blood appeared about the entirety of Brittany’s heart-shaped face.

I guess that explains why you keep going back to that doofus. You’re one of those bleeding-heart types.

He actually laughed as he stood over his sister’s form.

Okay. Keep the boobs. Let’s see what they think of you without that dumb, pretty face.

Oh, and don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of razors. I’ve been saving up for a special occasion. Thanks, big sis!


He began to squat downwards, and spoke aloud as he drew another blade from the box. “What did you always keep saying to me whenever ‘Kevvie’ or your other dumb friends came around - ‘Cut it out’? Okay… I can do that-

Brian was certain that a lightning bolt had struck the house, come all the way through and hit him; he saw the flash of light from his left side just as he had begun to cut in earnest, less than a couple of centimeters across her forehead, and felt himself thrown to the side as if Kevin or one of the other monkey-goons on the Lawndale High football team had used him again as a ‘tackle dummy’…

The wind was knocked from him - but, strangely enough, he wasn’t able to catch his breath after a moment, and it was hard to move, let alone lift himself up-

“BRIAN! What the holy fuck were you doing to your sister? What in the wide, wide sweet world of FUCK is WRONG with you?!”

As his field of vision began to darken around a very familiar pair of shoes that had stepped into view, a single thought began to regurgitate within Brian’s mind.

Maybe I shouldn’t have ditched and given Mom the slip just as everyone began to board the plane. Maybe I should have gone skiing with them. Some people bring their pets up with them… right?


*****

STEVE


*****


Steve looked with disgust and disbelief of the now-still form of his son as blood formed from the torn area on his left side where the three-inch shotgun slug had struck him a glancing yet fatal blow, before turning to his daughter.

“Brittany? Oh, God, Brittany, are you okay?”

The murmur of pain from Brittany pushed away the cold grip that he had only just noticed as it lifted away; Steve lifted Brittany up and carried her over to the couch.

“Hold on, okay?”

Picking up his shotgun, Steve went to the backdoor, closed and locked it and turned to the security panel on the wall next to the door; the morning sun was suddenly blotted out as steel shutters rolled down from within the walls and locked securely over each window in the entire house.

Satisfied that the house would be secure for the next few minutes until he got Brittany out, Steve got a large bowl from a shelf, dumped enough ice cubes from the dispenser on the refrigerator door, and as it was filling up with water, he retrieved the first aid kit that he kept in the cabinet over the sink in case of emergencies.

He looked at the freshly-washed stack of linen napkins, and scooped several up before he returned to the front room, where he saw Brittany begin to stir…

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:41 pm 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

STEVE

*****



Steve looked with disgust and disbelief of the now-still form of his son as blood formed from the torn area on his left side where the three-inch shotgun slug had struck him a glancing yet fatal blow, before turning to his daughter.

“Brittany? Oh, God, Brittany, are you okay?”

The murmur of pain from Brittany pushed away the cold grip that he had only just noticed as it lifted away; Steve lifted Brittany up and carried her over to the couch.

“Hold on, okay?”

Picking up his shotgun, Steve went to the backdoor, closed and locked it and turned to the security panel on the wall next to the door; the morning sun was suddenly blotted out as steel shutters rolled down from within the walls and locked securely over each window in the entire house.

Satisfied that the house would be secure for the next few minutes until he got Brittany out, Steve got a large bowl from a shelf, dumped enough ice cubes from the dispenser on the refrigerator door, and as it was filling up with water, he retrieved the first aid kit that he kept in the cabinet over the sink in case of emergencies.

He looked at the freshly-washed stack of linen napkins, and scooped several up before he returned to the front room, where he saw Brittany begin to stir…

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:46 pm 
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Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

BRITTANY

*****



Oh, my head hurts… and my face stings… what dropped on top of me? Ooooh, if Brian was messing with something and it didn’t stay up so it fell on me, I’m so going to get him the next time I see him…!

She started to sit up, and saw a familiar, daark-haired figure out of the corner of her eye approach.

Kevvie-?!

Kevin walked up to her, knelt down beside her, and began to wash her face. The water was cold, but felt wonderful as the soft cloth touched her face, soothing and so cool…

“I came back to get you - and he was about to, oh God, I’m sorry - I wish that I’d gotten here earlier…”

Brittany blinked as she looked about her with still-bleary eyes; she saw the still form on the other side of the room, almost hidden from view, and her heart began to beat faster as she realized what could have happened…

She threw her arms around Kevin and gave him a big bear hug. “You saved me! Oh, Kevvie, I was so mad at you for everything that you did and all of the stupid things you said and because you’re always thinking of football stuff instead of me but you just saved me and that makes you a hero-

Kevin barely managed to pry himself loose as Brittany felt the cold, wet cloth between them; as they separated, the lined cloth had soaked the right side of her sweater, making it effectively translucent… she managed a smile as she saw him look at her chest and instantly turn away, actually turning a spectacular shade of red as he dunked the cloth into the bowl of water and seeming to focus on wringing it out before reaching out for the huge Baltimore Ravens stadium blanket that lay on the other side of the couch.

As Kevin turned to her and said something - she didn’t catch what; he sounded serious and wouldn’t look in her direction until she turned him around (he seemed shocked that she was that strong, which was weird, because he usually liked how strong she was) and looked him directly in the eye.

“I know I told you that I wouldn’t do that with you - not until I thought you actually cared about me, no matter what I say to other people to make you look good, so...”

He went into an even brighter shade of red at her words - and then, turned absolutely white as she pulled off her sweater to toss it aside. For a moment, she wondered what happened to her bra (I just bought that yesterday!), but the stunned look of disbelief on Kevin’s face made her feel proud of what she had, and how she didn’t bother to waste it on anyone until things were right…

“After all - the hero always gets the girl.”

Anything that Kevin was about to say disappeared as Brittany pulled him forward and silenced him completely with the hottest, deepest open-mouthed kiss that she had ever lain on him - even better than the ones during their make-out session after they won the state football championship last year…

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:49 pm 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

STEVE

*****



Oh, God - today is the end of the world. It has to be. God couldn’t let this happen - he couldn’t put me here, and her here, and let this happen - and then, let there be a tomorrow…

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:53 pm 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

BRIAN

*****




Brian came to blurred consciousness; he lifted his head with ultimate effort towards the sounds that drew him back to awareness… and failed.

The sounds were ones he knew well, from his parents bedroom, and from Brittany’s, when she thought that no one was at home - but even with the warped mind that he had and cherished, reveling in his own inner damage, those were never sounds that he’d ever envisioned being made together, let alone trying to cause them to happen on his own… or was that backwards?, he asked himself.

Once again, Brian tried to lift his head and turn it; he succeeded, partially, and suppressed a pained whimper as his damaged nose - how did that happen, it hurts - pressed down against the hardwood floor and his forehead connected as well…

With his peripheral vision, through the burning of sweat and blood as both slid into his eye despite the blinking and the wide, gaping crevasse of pain, Brian saw a quartet of long, pale pinkish pipes together as they hung down from the couch on the other side of the room - no, two are lifting up, two keep swinging sideways and bending like twisty straws, and those noises…

Brian felt everything fading, but the pain in his side was going away, and isn’t that strange? He let himself spend his energy on a smile as he realized what he was seeing, as all-too-familiar squeals of speech turned to high-pitched, keening shrieks that pierced through the low, guttural attempts at breath that spat out into the air in a ragged, continual manner…

I thought I was messed up, but that… you’re doing that, Dad? You? No wonder you always acted like I wasn’t good enough. You were right. I wasn’t doing it like you; I didn’t have it in me. Brittany does, now, doesn’t she?

The sight and sounds of his family members gripped in an unholy embrace was the last thing Brian Taylor ever knew as he felt himself growing so tired and sleepy all of a sudden, his eyes hard to keep open - no, that’s not it, this is different - and he expended the last of his energy to let his smile widen as one last thought flowed through his mind:

Okay, Dad. You win.

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Fri Dec 02, 2016 11:59 pm 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

HELEN

*****




It’s not kosher, politically correct, or whatever term people use nowadays for women to admit that yes - sometimes, you want a man around to make you feel safe and secure. That’s why Jake and I have been together for all these years.

Okay - being honest, I actually love the big lug, and he does know how to say the exact right thing when it matters… and yes, he can part the Ohio River with what he’s got to work with downstairs. That sort of thing matters, too. It can make up for a lot, if we’re being honest.

Hurry home, Jake. I don’t know what I’d do without you.


“Uh, Mrs. Morgendorffer-”

“It’s ‘Helen’, Trent. If someone saves your life, that puts them on a permanent first-name basis with you.”

“Um… okay… Helen.”

She couldn’t help but smile at the discomfort Trent had at calling her by her first name - Trent Lane, the young man she’d discounted as a slacker until a conversation one day with Daria over Trent’s sister Jane - Daria’s best friend, and the person who was probably keeping her safe right about now, that girl is a survivor from day one - and that entitled little bastard Tom Sloane.

God forgive me for saying this, but if this is Armageddon or at least the end of our world, allow me a little comfort by thinking that a nuke went off right on top of that boy… no. Let him be nearby, so he has a few seconds to know what’s happened, scream a bit and ruin his pants as he sees it coming to reach out for him.

You shouldn’t have screwed over my baby and her friend. At least you didn’t get to sleep with Daria; I don’t know if Jane was that lucky. Honestly, although I’m curious, I don’t think I’d want to know… but I’d be lying to myself if I said that I’d probably end up asking her, sooner or later.

I hope to God that I get the opportunity to need to try and keep from asking her. Please, God, let me get that opportunity…


“Uh… are you planning to shoot somebody? I can let you hold my gun, so you won’t feel nervous about me being here alone with you.”

Helen smiled as she looked over at him. “I’m not afraid of you, Trent. In fact, I certainly do feel safer here now - you took care of Eric, didn’t you?”

This boy couldn’t frighten me if he tried. He can shoot to protect himself or others, but he’s not a killer.

She watched as he sat down to clean his weapon.

Even though their parents occasionally remembered to send money to let them keep the house, they’ve always been just on the edge of surviving. He managed to help feed and clothe his sister, kept her safe and helped her be a reasonably stable person who isn’t using sex and drugs to get past the pain of being effectively abandoned - and as much as I love Amanda as a friend, there’s no getting past the fact that she should have stayed home more with her babies, or at least made someone else their guardian.

I’d have done it - of course, he and I would have had ‘The Talk’ with EVERYBODY at the same time, the first night he was here. The embarrassment alone would have kept the girls baby-free for the next decade, and they would have dressed like the Stepford Wives did in that awful movie - being honest, for a girl, Daria practically dresses that way, already
.

Trent looked up at Helen. “Daria and Jane are all right. I know it.”

“I thought they said that they were going to Washington.”

“Well, Daria always had a bad habit or not doing what she said she’s going to do…”

More like ‘she always does the things that’ll annoy us the most, and knowing her, she probably went to D.C. to the Smithsonian, or the Library of Congress’ - oh, God…

Trent looked up from counting the number of shells he had for the .44, and saw the way Helen suddenly went white. “Mrs. Morgendorffer - are you okay?”

“Yes.”

The way she spoke fooled neither of them; she retrieved her pistol from the coffee table she placed it upon after closing the front door. “When Jake comes back, it’s best that we all leave. I think that you should come with us, Trent. Safety in numbers.”

“Cool. That makes sense.”

The nonchalant answer actually calmed Helen’s nerves a bit. “I’ve already packed a bag for Jake and myself, along with things that we need to have if we’re not coming back - important papers and such. I was about to get a couple of things from Daria and Quinn’s rooms when Eric showed up-”

“Yeah. I got my birth certificate - Jane’s, too, and the deed to the house. They’re in my back pocket.”

Helen almost smiled as she remembered what both of her daughters had told her about Trent. That’s just so… Trent Lane.

“That makes sense. Come with me, Trent. Until Jake comes back, we need to stay in sight of one another.”

“Yeah. One of the guys who got Monique… he was talking to the others about going and getting Jame at our house.”

Helen saw the look in Trent’s eyes, and was instantly reminded of the look Jake would get in his eyes when people said anything about Daria in his presence…

“Yes. You’re sticking close to me - just in case someone decides to break in looking for one of the girls… or me.”

Trent looked Helen directly in the eye. “Mrs. Morgendorffer. Nobody is going to put their hands on you.”

Helen actually felt safe - completely safe, for the first time since Jake had left.

“You can help me bring those bags down.”

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 12:02 am 
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Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

JAKE

*****




“Jake Morgendorffer. You’re Quinn’s father.”

Jake stepped from his car to see a tall, attractive woman of Asian descent at the doorway of the nice little brownstone he recognized as ‘Tiffany’s house.’ “You’re looking for Quinn?”

“I hoped that she’d - that all the girls were here.”

Serika Blum stepped from the door; Jake wasn’t surprised to see that she was armed with a pistol - and the appearance of Marsha Deckler at the door with an AR-series rifle didn’t surprise him, either. He knew them from getting involved with the local Pink Pistols chapter when he thought that both of his girls were gay, and while he didn’t care, he did think that Monique girl who showed up for Trent was eyeing Quinn a little too long as she went upstairs. (You’re not dating her, Quinn! I don’t care if you date girls, but you’re not dating THAT girl! She’s way, way too fast for you!) There was also just a certain vibe in the way that Quinn and Stacy Rowe got along, as if it was just a matter of time before one of them stepped up and they became a couple but that would be okay; Stacy worshipped Quinn, and Quinn seemed to actually like her, as opposed to the other two, who she simply hung out with …

“No.” Serika holstered her gun. “We’re waiting here as long as we can.”

“Did you check over at the Rowes?” Marsha, an olive-skinned, dark-haired beauty with a figure that reminded Jake of Helen, slung her rifle but still stayed within the doorway. “We called them, but didn’t get an answer, and Linda Griffin’s out of town - I heard Tiffany mention it last night…”

The look on Jake’s face gave them a good idea on what he was about to say. Jake had gone to the school first, to look for Daria; after that, he went to find no one at the Griffin home. Nothing.

When he arrived at Stacy’s home, he found her father dead in the front seat of his car, the driver’s side of the windshield, his upper body and face torn apart by several shotgun blasts - and when he went inside, he found the place ransacked in a way that screamed out of spite, not searching for anything of value, as if angry that the true target of their cruel desires had escaped them or that she had never been there…

“Craig’s dead. I didn’t see I’m going over to a friend of Daria’s house.”

“Jake - hurry up.” There was a grim tone to Serika’s voice “We’ve been listening to satellite radio, it’s going in and out - but they said that anyone near Washington needs to get out as soon as possible. Those two explosions we all heard? Whoever did this hit them with two nukes.

“I ran into a cop just before I got here. They’re letting people take shelter at the station, so if you need to get out of here-”

“We have our SUV.”

Serika glanced off to her right - and for the first time, Jake noticed the bullet-riddled bodies of several men and at least two women, lain out side-by-side on the front yard as if to provide a warning.

“We knew you were on the level because you didn’t even notice them out there - you’re focused on finding your girls.”

“We’re staying here another hour - and then, we’ll go down to the station,” Marsha spoke up. “If you see Tiffany, tell her that’s where we went.”

Jake nodded. “I have to go to Jane’s house - that’s Daria’s friend.”

“Good luck,” the women spoke in unison.

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 12:09 am 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

TRENT

*****




It’s like fairy-tale characters sleep in here…

Trent looked about Quinn’s bedroom, and allowed the thought of how all sorts of young guys would have bought him beers to sit around and listen as he described this room and the things within.

Look at that bed - it’s like the bed for a princess-in-training with training wheels, for when she gets the huge bed with posts as thick as telephone poles and a canopy that you could use as a parachute… there it is.

Helen had told him to get the star-shaped, smiley-face pillow on Quinn’s bed; he retrieved it and had turned to the door when something in her closet caught his eye, a flash of pink…

Trent went to the closet; moments later, he had one of the many ‘smiley-face’ t-shirts that Quinn seemed to love almost as much as Daria liked that green jacket (of course, having for a feel for what women were like and what they actually wanted, he always suspected that Daria wore that specific article of clothing because it served to hide her figure.

The sound of movement in Daria’s room caught his attention; he entered the communal bathroom the sisters shared and passed through the open door on Daria’s side to find Helen with an open suitcase on the bed, a second suitcase in the hallway just outside the door to Daria’s room and an attache case beside it.

“Mrs. Morgendorffer? You okay?”

“Yes… yes. I have Daria’s iBook, and I was just thinking how much she’d like to have this silly cheese thing, but we don’t have the room… oh, you have Quinn’s pillow.”

“I also got one of her t-shirts.”

Helen managed a tiny smile. “Oh, I can just imagine what Quinn will say when she hears that you were in her room…”

“God, I couldn’t have been that bad of a person for me to miss that! Send me back in time so I can be there in the room, and let me find a way to get his t-shirt off…”

The words escaped his mouth before he realized that he was talking about Quinn to her mother.

Trent turned slowly, remembering that she had a gun - and almost seemed relieved by her attempt to suppress her laughter.

“Your little sister is right, I see. You do have a high opinion of yourself when it comes to women.”

Helen put the pillow and shirt into the suitcase as Trent coughed - and as he reached into his gun bag (a little overstuffed, she noticed), Helen realized that was the very first time since he arrived that he had done so.

“I brought two pairs of Jane’s running shoes with me when I left.” He brought out the shoes. “The other pair’s in the car with some chips. Maybe you could take a pair, in case you run into her first.”

Helen put the running shoes into the suitcase. “That’s a good idea, Trent.”

Trent watched Helen as she closed the suitcase and took it to the doorway, then stepped back and moved about the room as if she was taking in every inch, to build future memories…

As she walked over to a padded wall; Trent was shocked to see tears run down Helen’s cheeks.

“Mrs. Morgendorffer-”

“Did Daria or Jane ever tell you-” She waved her hand in a sweeping manner about the room. “Did either of them tell you about all of this - why the room looks like a holding room in the psych ward?”

Trent nodded. “I remember Jane sad something about poetry on a wall in the closet. She said that I should come over and write them down; that they were better than my lyrics.”

“Well, they were written by a schizophrenic shut-in.” Helen tried to chuckle as she swiped at her face with a clean t-shirt from Daria’s dresser. “I have always hated the way this room looks. I was waiting for the opportunity to tear this room apart, and redecorate in a way that Daria couldn’t complain or fight to the death about…”

Trent had always seen Helen as easily the strongest woman he’d ever known. He loved his mother, but Amanda Lane was, well, there was a reason she lost herself in pottery or on the road; she wasn’t strong enough to set down rules and stand by them with her children.

Angela Li - or worse, Janet Barch? Both mistook dominance for strength. Even Daria thought overwhelming those around her with her intellect made her strong, but that only made her an occasional bully; Trent, however, had seen moments of true strength in her and knew someday, when she got rid of her baggage, she would be so strong…

He always knew where Daria got that strength. He even saw flashes of it in Quinn; it was that ‘Barksdale women’ thing that he heard Jane and Daria talk about on occasion, but both of them were bare glimpses of moonlight next to the sun at high noon that was Helen Morgendorffer. She was the power in the Morgendorffer household…

…and now, even now, seeing her in tears but not breaking down and sobbing, not even a single sniffle, still attempting to stay strong even though she feared for the lives of her husband and children, Trent had never been more impressed by anyone in his entire life.

He reached over for the box of tissues next to Daria’s cheese model and turned about to offer it to her just as Helen reached it for the box herself; their hands touched, and both of them felt the spark…

Trent wasn’t blind to Helen’s animal feminine qualities; the was she carried herself, the subtle growl to her voice that let her exude a hot, yet subtle sexuality, the way that volcanoes occasionally let off a bit of smoke and even magma - but that wasn’t anything compared to what happened if it were to erupt… he’d seen her in form-fitting things like her running suit, there was the way she looked in her blouses when she took her jacket off, and then, he had come over one night last summer to ask about Jane.

He saw that rich punk Sloane’s POS Pinto out front, the windows steamed up; he turned back to the house just in time to see (through the front windows, they didn’t even think to close the shades) Helen pull open her blouse and snap her brassiere off as she hopped upon the couch and (with a throaty groaning that cut straight through him even outside) arch her back as she pushed herself down fully upon Jake’s monster of a prick without stopping.

Of course she was hot. She was like 'Morgan Fairchild on that stupid show Friends' hot, when she was going to do the skinny geeky guy who wanted to do Jennifer Aniston; hey, older women know what the hell they want and aren’t in a mood for playing games for it, either.

For her part, Helen wasn’t blind to Trent’s allure, either; she even allowed that she could understand why Daria had a crush on him, and respected him even more because he never tried to take advantage of her because of it.

Trent was so much like Jake that it was scary - and given the way Daria felt about her dad, how could she not feel attracted to him? Even Helen had allowed the young man to invade a couple of her own fantasies; he was a musician, and with all the time they have to remain on stage, giving their performances their all, they have great stamina…

The reality of the situation - and what it meant for all of them, perhaps within the next hour or two, struck Helen so hard that it seemed to be a physical attack. She grasped one of the guard rails on the wall for support, her voice seeming to echo the emptiness she felt consuming her….

“My babies are gone.”

“No.” Trent’s head shook fiercely. “They’re alive. Jane, Daria; I just know they are.”

Helen’s eyes flooded, and yet she rose back up from her momentary slump to stand tall. “It’s all gone. It’ll never be the same again, and I don’t know what to do.”

Trent stood and shuffled his feet before he spoke. “Sometimes you have to accept the fact that certain things will never go back to how they used to be. You just have to - you have to let it go, and make things new and better.”

He stood silently for a few moments. “Sometimes, you have to do that somewhere other than where you always thought you were going to be. That’s okay. As long as you stay in control of the changes, instead of letting the changes control you.”

Helen turned to look at him with an expression that momentarily made Trent consider going for his gun - and he was suddenly struck dumb and breathless as she crossed the room and took him in a heated kiss that simultaneously made him go numb and sent every nerve ending in his body flare into overdrive.

"Mrs. Morgen-"

"Helen."

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 12:13 am 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

STACY

*****



The pain, the noise, the feeling as if she wanted to do nothing but vomit, even though she had nothing left in her stomach, the ringing in her ears that blocked everything else out after that louder than loud explosion, and the crushing feel of the walls around her; falling in a way that left her trapped in the last stall in the girl’s restroom on the bottom level of the Mall of the Millennium, where she had gone after hearing someone say that the management kept that one cleaner than all of the others, because it was the one they used when they wanted to go and not be bothered by anyone weird…

All of that had stopped once the world went sparkling blue around her.

“Oh…”

“Hello, miss. I’m here to help you.”

Stacy looked up to see a very handsome, very tall man with dark hair and a really expensive white suit on… and what was strange, he looked as if he was on fire, but the flames were white.

“This won’t hurt at all.”

Stacy felt better than she ever had as the man placed a finger to her badly burnt fragment of left ear, and she was entirely healed - no pain, the vomit was gone, she could hear and breathe normally…

She watched as he touched her wrist; a slim, snug gray band formed there, and Stacy immediately felt much calmer.

“This is a ‘guidebook’. It will help you when you arrive - and it will guide you to your friends… and your parents. I have the feeling that they will need you now, more than ever.”

“Can you help me get out of here?”

“Yes - and please, give the others a message when you arrive. Tell them that I helped you - and when possible, I will help others.”

Stacy blinked in surprise as a portal of dark purple energy ringed in whitish fire and filled with liquid gold splashing and flowing about inside but not a drop spilling out, appeared directly in front of her.

“It’s like something off Stargate SG-1, or Stargate Atlantis…”

Odell Jones smiled at her. “One last thing. You have a second chance. Don’t waste it by not expressing how you feel, no matter what others may say about you or your choices. After all this… the only thing you should be concerned about is being happy - and making the one you chose to love as happy as you.”

“Where are we going?”

“Actually, we are going to fetch a young woman you know. Her name is Landon - and she will be important to the world you will all build, beyond the Veil…”

He reached out for her hand; the moment after he led Stacy through and the portal disappeared, the entire bathroom was smashed in by the collapse of several floors above.

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 12:15 am 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

JAKE

*****




“Better take off, pal, before we mess you up-”

The grungy man and his partner waved their knives threateningly from the front door of Casa Lane; they were obviously the lookouts, as the door was kicked in and Jake saw at least two others moving about inside.

“I’m not looking for trouble. I’m looking for two teenage girls.”

“Me, too!” the second man said, as he rubbed against his crotch for emphasis. “Young and tight means you get to train ‘em right!”

Jake ignored the comment. “One’s a short redhead with glasses - the other is a few inches taller, black hair and blue eyes; the redhead’s in a green jacket and the other in a red one.”

“Oh.” the grungy man sniffled. “Well, we’ll certainly keep an eye out for those two now - and if you don’t carry your ass on away from here right the fuck now, we’ll take you upstairs and give you a old-time ‘sausage party.”

Jake pulled his .45 from his jacket and put a round each in the center of their foreheads; ten seconds later, the first of their three accomplices appeared and got the same as them.

Twenty seconds later, Jake stepped over bodies to begin his search inside…

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 12:20 am 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

HELEN

*****



As she got dressed, Helen felt alive once again.

With Trent, what she had just done; making love as if it’s the last thing either of us will ever do, as if we’ll never see one another again, and this was that one thing we’d have never dreamed of doing in normal times… it’s like the last night of spring break, making a memory to take the both of us into forever.

She turned to Trent, who was slipping his shoes back on; that was amazing. He actually undressed me fully, and pulled me into Quinn’s room for us to make love on her bed; even now, he still respects Daria enough not to screw her mom on her bed.

God, I haven’t been rammed like this bwy to different guys in the same day since my second year at Middleton, just before I met Jake. God, those Marines must be trained to screw at Parris Island, because they do it sodamnedwell!


They both sat back on the bed.

“Well,” she said. “That happened.”

Trent turned and smiled at her. “Thank you, Helen.”

She returned the smile. “My pleasure - Mister Lane.”

Helen took his hand as he picked up his gun bag (I can’t believe he had the presence of mind to bring that with him and drop in right beside the bed!) and led him back into Daria’s room, to the waiting suitcases. “Take these downstairs, please. I’ll get my attache case.”

As they walked downstairs, Trent sat the suitcases next to the couch before he turned to Helen. 'When he gets back, you can just put those in the car-"

His words were cut off suddenly as they stopped, and went into each others arms for a last, final, passionate embrace; after several moments of slow, luxurious kisses, they stepped apart to look at one another.

"I always wanted to do that... you know... upstairs… I mean, I wondered what it would be like with you…"

"I know." Helen gave him a beautiful smile that reminded him of sunrise; the type of smile that men dreamed about being their last sight in this lifetime. "As for, 'you know... ‘upstairs'... I always wanted to do that, too… well, consider what it would have been."

The two of them went quiet for a long moment. They let their eyes play softly over one another, hoping that it wouldn’t be and yet certain that this will be the last time they see one another, both cementing this moment into their memories...

"Goodbye... Helen."

"Goodbye, Trent."

Without a backward glance, Trent left the house.

After she locked the door, Helen put Trent out of her mind. She returned to the living room, set her .45 on the coffee table and sat down.

She re-checked the remaining magazines, picked up the pistol, and waited (although she didn’t realize it, for the last time) for her husband to come home.

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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PostPosted: Sat Dec 03, 2016 12:22 am 
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Joined: Sun Oct 12, 2003 1:50 am
Posts: 1522
Location: That forgotten spot behind the sofa where I was accidentally kicked by Real Life's left hind leg
*****

JAKE

*****



Jake saw Trent’s car pass by on the street over as he headed back to his home.

Good. Trent made it - and if Helen and I can’t find Daria and Quinn, Trent will, and he’ll keep them safe.

He turned a corner, and drove the final block home. Okay. We get our things - Helen has them ready, I know her - and we get out of here. We look for the girls - go as close as we can to D.C. - and then, if we haven’t found them, we start checking with police and the military. Daria’s smart; she won’t just drive around all willy-nilly. She and Jane will stay in one place, so we can find them.

Jake pulled into the driveway of his home, and saw Helen come to the door with relief on her face.

Yeah. No matter how bad things are - we’ll all make it through and be back together.



END

_________________
Because we know instinctively as a people that if we are to get through the darkness and back into the light we have to work together. And the truth is, there will always be darkness. And sometimes the light at the end of the tunnel isn’t the promised land. Sometimes it’s just New Jersey. But we do it anyway, together.

-Jon Stewart



"We have a right to fight for our country - the same as every other American. We will not go away."

-Col. A.J. Bullard (Terrence Howard), Red Tails



"If we can't protect the Earth - you can be damn well sure we'll avenge it."

-Tony Stark/Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), The Avengers


"Sometimes you have to spontaneously break into song - right?" - Mack, from Teen Beach 2



The PSI Corps is your friend. Trust The Corps.


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