Blood Bayou – Part 05.

“For all the Canelian Ale, Liam,” I said, “you must have been hitting the heavy stuff hard to seriously go for this. There are kindergarten classes who use maps like that to keep the infants busy. Every living and breathing being on the system has seen one of those and I never heard any of them paid or been paid for one of them. You get them for free with a portion of green beans in the local, man.”

“No?” He said looking sly. “Perhaps they never had the right one or they never looked in the right place for the right one. You know where this is?” He pointed at the map.

“Liam, what you show me might be round the corner, the far side galaxy, outside the system or in Up Nebula for all I know.”

“If you knew what Medium this was,” he pointed at the map again, “could you read it then?”
“I might,” I said  more out of curiosity to hear his arguments than anything else. “If I knew the Medium and the close by molecular stands. And if this isn’t too old, the space changes Liam, you know that.”
“But not that much,” he said somehow surprisingly comfortably. “If I can take you to the exact Medium and molecular stands, can you work it out from there?”
“I might,” I said carefully, “It depends on how it’s changed.”

“That’s all I want to know,” A new Liam was emerging, a more good-old-days Liam. “Let me buy our next drinks,” he said and nodded to somebody I could not see.

“You better hold on a while,” I said. “All this has been just talk. Suppose I could find the place. I’m not going back t the Nebula and let myself eaten by the gangs, aliens or get jammed by the flats like an idiot falling into a treasure hunt con.”

“Jon, Jon, Jon.” He leaned back and started to purr. “That’s just it. This ain’t a treasure hunt con. You think I’m the kind of guy what falls for that kind of stuff?”
I wanted to say yes but I let it go by.
He leaned over confidentially. “This isn’t any smugglers treasure, Jon. This is the stuff that makes you mythically rich and it has a dead man’s pitcher on it.”
“And nobody has seen this map before?” And how the hell found its way where you think it is?”

He sat back and got cunning again. “You will never guess in a million years…”
“I’m not going to guess,” I snapped. “But you are going to tell me Jon.”
“sure. Sure Jon. I’m going to tell you.”

But there was something I wanted to know first. “Why me, Liam? If you knew where it is why not go yourself to get it? And did you know that I was going to be here, at Broker’s tonight?”
“I don’t know the damn Nebula, Jon. Period. And I don’t know how to fly inside a Nebula, Jon. And I didn’t know that you will be here tonight. I was hoping you will be, you’ve been seen around. And it might takes two to find the damn thing.”

There might be an explanation here. “There is somebody else, Liam. It isn’t just waiting there to be found, is it Liam? There is somebody sniffing around it or sitting on it, Liam.” I was feeling angry and irritated.
“Maybe.”
“That means we have to take it away from somebody?”
“That’s the way things are sometimes, Jon.”
“And if this guy or whatever it is, doesn’t want to give it?”

He just sat there and looked at me and let me think about it myself. I did. The  more I thought about it the less I liked it.

“I don’t want any more fights and I definitely don’t want to put somebody down,” I said in a voice full of anger.
“Hell, Jon, you were in the army man.”
“That was different.”
“Yeah? And a million credits is different. Hell, you knock off guys you never even saw before, guys you got no beef with, and you did it for dimes and duty, and now you start talking like a dustgas. “Who’s the guy, Liam?”
“It’s …hell, you know the guy, Jon.”
“Who?” I almost shouted.
“Cold T’Jinj, Jon.”

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Read all Blood Bayou chapters in order, HERE!

A flat kill – Part 06.

The short trouble hit some buttons and obviously moved the ten credits to his account and then moved out from behind the metal. “Empty your pockets on the floor,” he ordered.
I took my wallet out of pocket careful and tossed it down. I watched the gray hair ,am get to his feet. Oh earthmen, the galaxy’s heroes.

He liked his lips for a few seconds and then seemed to take a deep breath. The air wasn’t very clean with the skinners’ smell and all that. Then his hand went to the button of his jacket.

He didn’t get his ray out of his belt holster. The tall trouble’s ray spit yellow beams twice. The earthman in the booth crumpled and he slid between the table and the bench.
The trouble’s eyes turned to me glowing with killer madness.

I dove under the counter as beams came and sprayed hard against the self with the mugs and glasses. I lay there hugging the floor, my heart pounding wildly.

After a couple of shots, I heard the sound of a hard slap. “Snap out of it, you damn duneworm,” I heard the chunky trouble say. “Let’s get the Skriizs out of here.”

I heard their footsteps moving fast forward the door and then I heard the door slam. I lay there unable to get up right away and marvelling in a detached way at my trembling and weakness.

Finally, the old creature strained up. He looked at me over the counter and picked his kPhone out of his pocket.

I came to my senses. It was time to get out. I couldn’t get mixed up in anything like this. I got shakily to my feet.

Then I saw the faces pressed against the windows and far away I heard the sirens of the flat drones reaching. Old man hadn’t still press the buttons, I realized suddenly. Somebody had heard the shots and done it for him.

I picked up my bag and looked at the glass door. My stomach tighten around fear. It was getting too late to get out.

There were about twenty people, all colours, heights and shapes out there and keep coming. Their fascinated eyes travelled a thrill circuit from the body of the gray haired man, to the green creature with four arms shaking uncontrollably to me.

I put down my bag and wiped my palms on my trousers. I looked at the old creature with a weary indignation.
“Why did he do that?” I asked hoarsely. “Why did the damn fool go for his ray?”

The old green creature glanced at the body and then looked way. “Gromlyz Fjerd, he said. “Just a new flat. Off duty and all he wanted was quiet and something to eat.” Old creature’s eyes harden. “Flats ain’t all perfume and flowers,” he said, “but there is one thing that gets every flat mad. You don’t kill a flat, Miss.”

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Read all A Flat kill chapters in order, HERE!

Blood Bayou – Part 04.

He got around it slow enough. “You remember when we was with Cold T’Jinj?” He asked. I nodded.
“You was pretty handy with all kind of ships those days,” he said. “You used to run the stuff up into the Nebula, right?”
“Me, Quiet Con and some more guys.”

“Yeah. But now Quiet Con is liquidated and most of the other guys too. Maybe. Or anyway, they are nowhere around to find. Probably none in New Bayou.”
“You might find somebody if you hunt through the McCoy Quarter.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “But I want the best and that leaves only you. Damn it Jon, this was a lucky night for both of us, hey?”

I couldn’t see my luck because all it got me that meeting so far was a few touches from the good old days, some names for the past and less credits in my wallet after paying Liam’s drinks. But I let it go.

“How would you like to make a million credits, Jon?”
I picked my vape from the table, stuck it in my breast pocket and started to get up. When the Liams of this universe start talking like that, it’s time to get out.

“Wait,” Liam was saying. “Wait a while Jon. Please sit down my friend, take it easy and let me show you…” And with one hand he was trying to pull me back into my chair and with the other he was pawing at his pocket, he sounded as if he was getting ready to cry.
I felt sorry for him so I sat down again.

He got whatever it was out of his pocket and sat there looking at me as if he wasn’t sure yet if he should show it to me. Then a kind of helplessness took over his face and he slumped back in his chair.

“I got to let you in on it, Jon,” he said. It’s the only way I got, the only way I know. You want let an old friend down, will you Jon?” his voice was shaking.
“Liam, don’t give me that old friend crap,” I said in a quiet voice. “For some reason you got a use of me or in your drunken mind you think you have. Now let’s put it on the line and see how it looks.”

“Okay,” he said. “I need a pilot who can handle any boat and knows the nebula as the back of his hand. There is enough dough in it and we can both get rich. You think I was lying about the million, but it’s on the level.”

I said nothing for a bit, just sat there looking straight in his eyes and trying to find I don’t know what. Truth is so rare in these short of places.

“Look, I don’t know what this is,” I said in the end. “But I know that there are running boats all around the Nebula. I know if they are running smoke, Garelan prostitutes. Spices. Perhaps some other kind of aliens. Perhaps viruses. I don’t want anything to do with all that shit. Find yourself another boy.”

He shook his head. “It ain’t none of those things,” he said. “It’s as big as all these things but… and that’s the best part of it, Jon, it ain’t outside the law.
I looked at him, he must be lying. “All right. Get to it,” I said.
And he pushed his hand across at me and spread something on the table.

A piece of leather, old and beat-up with all the blood and life gone out of it. It was covered with cuts and lines of some kind and burns. I looked closer and the lines started taking form. It all began to look like a kid’s drawing of the drainage system of the Nebula North on the edges of the 6DR85 system and on a corner of all the twist and cuts there was an X.

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Read all Blood Bayou chapters in order, HERE!

A flat kill – Part 05.

Sure, she could identify me if she ever saw me again. But she never would. Officer Brevity Dorv’s body most likely wouldn’t be found until somebody came to find out why he hasn’t reported for work, and by that time I’d be back in New Bayou. She could look through all the holograms at the headquarters until she need new visors or a laser operation to her eyes. My hologram wasn’t in anybody’s files.
I am a ghost.

In my room I packed away including my five grand in credits. I glanced at my kPhone and saw that I had about an earth hour to kill before catching my ship.

I picked up my bag and checked out o the place. About a block down the street I found a skin place. I got some vape liquid out of one of the machines and sat down on a stool.

“Two skinners with duneonions,” I said. “And plenty of black.”
An old little green very floppy creature with four arms, splayed out two balls of skin on the hot metal. He drew my black and slid the sweetener to me.
“Kind of chilly tonight,” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “A bit nippy.” I looked idly around and saw that the other customer was a gray hair human man working on a piece of pie in one of the booths.

The floppy creature put the skinners on a plate and he was just setting them in front of me when the door opened and two troubles walked in. I picked one of my skinners as I took a look and a prickling came to the back of my head. Both troubles were obviously high on some kind of vape and the tiny pupils of their eyes glowed. Late teens, thin faces with thin shelled bravado of the perpetual delinquent.

I chewed slowly and wondered if they were going to go through with it. They hesitated for a moment as they looked around and then the taller of them moved to the far corner and turned his back to it. He brought out a very old version of a ray and swept the room with it.

“Two things work,” he said his voice high. “Everybody behave and you’ll live to tell your grandkids about it.”
The other kid had a better looking ray. “Move away from the metal old man. I’m going to take a look at your screen.”

I noticed the man in the booth lay down his chopsticks. His head went slowly back and forth as he alternately watched one and then the other. The shorter kid, a chunky one went behind the metal and hit the screen pulling up  kPhone from his inner pocket. His pressed some batons then looked at the screen and twisted his mouth in disgust. “A lousy ten credits.”
“What did you expect?” the old green man said dryly. “This ain’t a bank.”

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Read all A Flat kill chapters in order, HERE!

Midmedia express – Part 6.

The race was a screaming, burning, exploding nightmare. Gunnar stayed back, letting the early leaders smash themselves up on rocks or with each other. He crept into the third place when a former flat drone in front of him swerve against a psy-drone and the two drones roared into dune and exploded with a big bang.

Gunnar gunned the second place on the last few kilometres. But couldn’t find passing room. An anomalous down curve almost took him but he fought the drone back still holding the third place. Then the lead driver did something with his turbo feed and the drone exploded in the final fifty meters bringing Gunnar to the second place.

He was now thousand credits head. He even received fan mail.
he was invited to appear on Uncanny.

Unlike Object, Uncanny was not a competition-type show. It stressed individual initiative. For the show, Gunnar was knocked out with a non-habit-forming downer. He awoke in the cockpit of an army-feeling drone, flying in auto at ten thousand feet over the desert. Its liquid looked nearly empty and Gunnar had no gravity belt. He was supposed to land the drone.
Of course he had never been inside an army drone before.

He experimented a bit with the controls trying to find something familiar remembering that last week’s participant had woken up in a sandsub and having open the wrong valve had drowned.

Millions of viewers watched spellbound as this average man, a man just like themselves, struggled with the situation just as they would do. Gunnar was one of them. Anything he could do, they could do. He was representative of the people.

Gunnar managed to bring the drone down in some semblance of a landing. He flipped over a few times unable to control the weight, but his seat belt hold. And the engine contrary to expectation didn’t explode.

He staggered out of the ruins with two broken ribs, three thousand credits and the chance, when he healed, to appear on Revolve.

At last, a first class streaming show, Revolve paid ten thousand credits. All you had to do was kill one of those monstrous and full of jaws and teeth Elaphine with a sword. Just like the myths with the space knights.

The fight was held on the forbidden dune planet, since Elephines lived there and hunting was legal and essential for the living.

Gunnar felt confident with all safety people and assistance running around with ready rays. But when all said it was Gunnar on the sand with a sword on his right hand facing a gigantic hungry for human flesh monster all teeth and nails.

Somebody shouted, “go for the eyes.” But Gunnar knew only what the expert when they first arrived in the forbidden planet had told him, “the brain is under the mouth; go for the top of their neck.” And over he went. He actually managed to go after the monster faster that he would have ever thought that he could. The sword bounced off bone and the Elephine tossed him over its head luckily for him avoiding the teeth.

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Trimensional anxiety – Chapter 15 – The end

“It just isn’t our world anymore,” said Britt looking outside the window. Strange windows in the sky or the side of the buildings opened to show legs, boots or torsos marching, huge machines constructed to point at us with eyes looking inside our minds and souls.
It was definitely a new day.

“He understood,” said Britt. Tommy and I have come home almost running. Almost because running was difficult with everybody in the streets watching and pointing the strange window. While we were both trying to catch up our breath, Britt was looking outside obviously deep in some thoughts.

“They are human, no doubt.” She said after a while. “But why they do what they do?”
“This is definitely not time travel,” Tommy said reaching the window and looking at a new outline that had just opened cross the street same level with my apartment.
More boots marching.

I reached for her hand and she didn’t pull away. “Britt, sweetie…” I began.

But before I could go any further the man, the very same man we kept seeing in my apartment hanging from the roof or coming out of the floor came in front of the three of us.
This time I was angry.

You could see this portals windows or whatever they were everywhere nowadays but they were there projecting whatever they project. They didn’t find any interest to any of us. Just kept marching or showing machines. But he did. He stood there staring at all of us.

He looked at the written papers on the floor, then back at the three of us and then back at the papers. Then he moved closer and now it wasn’t just legs, feet or a torso. Now a full grown man with jacket and hat was standing in front of us. Pointing one of the papers.

“Are you from the future?” Britt asked nervously.
He nodded NO! Britt’s face betrayed fear.
“Who are you?” She dared ask again. H slowly pointed at us. We didn’t understand so he repeated the move, first pointing at himself and then at us. And then the same again and again. First himself then us.
“You are us.” Tommy shrieked. “You are like us, you are humans…” The man nodded again, affirmatively this time.
“Please, talk to us…” Britt said but too late, he had gone.

“Oh my Buddhachrist, I know where they are coming from,” Tommy said in the sudden silence of the room. “They are from a different dimension.”

“WHAT?” Britt and I almost yelled.
“Look out there,” Tommy said pointing out of my window. A new frame had taken shape with more boots parading. “Doesn’t that bring back memories?”
“What?” I asked again in frustration.
“Haven’t you see those boots before?” Britt and I remained silent for a minute researching out brains’ information and trying to analyze.
“Nazis!” We said on voice.
“Nazis indeed.” Tommy said.

“A different dimension where Hitler won.” Tommy said in a whispering voice.
“He created his iron empire…”
“He took over the world…”
“Travelled to the moon…”
“Mars, the stars…”
“Discover new weapons…”
“Nukes, lasers…”
“Portals…”
We were just adding into one another’s fears completing like a puzzle the picture.
“And now he invades our world.” Britt said.

And then the portal in y apartment opened again and the man stood there screaming, “RUN, run for your life. They are coming.”
“HE IS COMING!”

And just then a yellow ray went through his chest all the way through his torso and hit the wall of my apartment carrying with it blood that splattered all over a painting of green scenery.

We run!
And we are still running.

The end

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Read all the Trimensional anxiety chapters in order, HERE!

A flat kill – Part 04.

“Do you think you could be bought now?” I asked, interested.
He almost smiled again. “I’m considering it.”
I shifted my weight to make myself more comfortable. “Can you guess why I’m here?”
He did smile thinly this time. “If it’s to scare me, you won’t go away disappointed.”
“no,” I said. “it’s more serious than that.”

His eyes sifted softly to his right side. I knew what he was looking for and I also knew that he knew. He wasn’t faster than me.

Still I could see that he would try it even though he wasn’t sure yet. We were still talking and in his mind that was not normal.

I didn’t mind but he missed the point. I didn’t mind some talking. I’m always interest on how alive beings meet death. I had so many questions but still, I couldn’t take the chance and even smart people do stupid things.

Plus the problem with VI-32 is that they are good for one use. Then they need time to recharge.

I might get him as he makes his dive, I thought. But the chances were that I’d need more than one shot to put him away and I dint like the idea with a damn VI-32.

I wouldn’t have mind some more talking as well. I was really interest to what he had to say about his work and about not having a family or a hobby. Somehow I felt that I could identify. But my luck, was always the same. They dived.
And I could see it in his eyes that he was thinking about it, just right now.
Regretfully I squeezed the trigger.

The flat grunted slowly as the ray bored into his flesh and he flopped out on the side of his chair, actually n his hidden gun side, with the un-coordination of instant death.

Slowly I put the VI-32 back in the briefcase and stood up. Then with a new cleaning mat I went through the comfortable chair’s arms and the floor where sequences of my DNA might have fallen.

I was going through the pad at the door when I noticed the green skin, brown hair girl at the door of the apartment next to flat’s.

She had four large mistral market bags in two of her four arms and she was having difficulty using her pad to get into her apartment.

She smiled at me. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “But would you mind holding at least one of those while I get my door open?”
“Not at all,” I said. I took one of them while she typed her code into the pad and her door unlocked. “Thank you so much,” she said as I returned the bag.

Aside from her elfin accent she had a nice smile so I smiled too. I touched the edge line of hoodie in an old earthly attitude. “No trouble at all,” I said and left. Outside and walking slowly on the sidewalk, I checked my palm. More curiosity than interest. Not even moist, I thought in  a satisfied way. Oh I’m a cold son of a bitch.

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Read all A Flat kill chapters in order, HERE!

Trimensional anxiety – Chapter 14

By Saturday noon you could see strange platforms and portals appearing all around. It was not an arm, a leg or a torso anymore. There were shadows and shapes of creatures marching and obviously carrying some kind of weapons nobody could identify.

Disappearances also continued. Actually increased including people from the directive. Paul from the eighth directive and Jan from the sixth had disappeared and I knew it because it also happened to  Harlan from the Eighteenth directive while he was talking about it in the lift for the sixteenth floor in front of a bunch of people.

And while Tommy and I tried to keep appearances at the office in a world that was slowly going mad form fear, Britt stayed home unveiling and applying the plan. Communicate with a torso and arms without head and hands.

In a paranoid desperation, the night before, the three of us had cut big pieces of paper and with thick markers we wrote in big capital letters a series of message.

WHO ARE YOU?
WHAT DO YOU WANT?
ARE YOU FROM THE FUTURE?

Perhaps we could add some more messages and some of them more clever but in the limited time and possibility to be read we thought that the three of them make sense and they might give some answers to us.

Back in the office, I was waiting for Tommy to finish with his looking around I tried to have a talk with the prime of our directive but he was really occupied and disturbed with the disappearance of his first and second secretary during lunch time increasing the number of disappeared only in my directive to nineteen. I was getting angry and frustrated.

“Nothing?” I asked an assistant I found randomly walking up and down an alley in the fourteenth floor.
“No direction,” he whispered lost in his fear.
“No memo, nothing?” I asked again.
“It’s like the directive has vanished.” He was definitely dispirited.

A clerk appeared from an office on the left.
“A memo?” the assistant asked full of hope.
“Nothing, sir. I was going to ask the same, you an assistant and all that…” He didn’t have to finish his sentence, we all felt the same. There were no directives from the directive.

Thankfully I saw Tommy coming out from one of the lifts.
“I was looking for you,” He said when he got closer. “Any news?”
“No directive,” the assistant answer instead of me and the clerk nodded in a vain agreement.

Tommy didn’t say anything just looked at me and we both understood so we started walking toward the lifts on the way to my office.
“If you get a memo, forward it to me,” the assistant shouted behind us.

On the lift’s screen a bulletin from Småstaden Posten was saying that the army had connected the disappearances with the shadows and the shapes randomly appearing all around the city and that they were calling the reserves and the veterans to be armed and ready. The bulleting actually included a series of service numbers of veterans immediately recruited.
Neither Tommy or I were included, we were still considered too valuable for the directive.

We said nothing till we arrived at my door where a group of assistants, secretaries, clerks and the stenographer seemed to wait for me.
“Anything?” one of the assistant asked.
“Nothing,” I said keeping my head down.
“No directive? No memo?” Agony was obvious in his voice.
“What are we going to do?” another one said while Tommy tried to push his way to my door. Pushing and shoving we somehow managed to go through them and enter my office. My dark quiet office with only one sound. A constant blip-blip-blip from my computer.
We both moved behind the desk and looked at the screen.  There was a message from Britt.
“Come home fast, got an answer.” And we almost run.

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Read all the Trimensional anxiety chapters in order, HERE!

A flat kill – Part 03.

Took the outside gravity life to the thirty-second floor, I walked the soundproof carpet and I found the door of apartment 326 I was looking for and pressed the communication pod. With any luck the flat was in his between-shifts break.
I was lucky.

The flat that stood by the open door was a medium size humanoid in some kind of strange pyjamas covering his hairy chest holding a pad on one hand. His sharp blue eyes – Jed was right about the eyes, flicked over my face.

“Officer Brevity Dorv?” I asked.
He nodded his head still no suspicious.
“I’d like to talk to you about something very important for your health,” I said. “By the way, Jed figures in it.”

Oddly he smiled. A reaction I was not expecting and usually I’m prepared for everything. Always prepared and all these space-scouts shit.

Still I could see the clever, Jed had mentioned.
“Can’t wait for a couple more years?” He asked with a smile on his face. “I’m full of Jeds right now.”
I thought a bit.
“It could wait,” I said finally. “But regarding this Jed you should be interest right now.”

His eyes went over me once again and then he stepped back letting me see what his other hand, the one without the pad, was holding. No surprise there, after all he was a clever man, as Jed had pointed out.

I walked onto the apartment, straight to a wide sitting room and sat down on one of the two comfortable chairs in front a very comfortable sofa with a nice pseudo-wooden table in between. It was a cosy place in nice earth colours and I could see a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchenette full automatic. Minimalistic would have been the best way to describe it or the place of a man with minimum needs and definitely no woman around. I put my briefcase on my knees.

The flat stood watching me checking the room and sitting down and then after a few minutes in silence he decided to take the other comfortable chair opposite me. “I never saw you before,” he said.

“I certainly hope so,” I said and he smiled again. Clever with humour. I could see why Jed was so scared of him.
“So?” He said.
“so, I hope you will never see me again” I answered smiling. My turn to show sense of humour. “That’s why right now is so important to both of us.” I continued in a more serious tone but without losing my smile.

“If it’s information I’m full of ears for you. If it’s money, you are wasting your time and you know it.”

Using my fingerprint I open the case and put my hand in it. “No, you are guessing bad.” I brought out the VI-32 and pointed it at his hairy chest. He sat without the slightest movement, his eyes travelling from the green battery to my face. He didn’t try to pull his pistol from under the side of the chair where his hand was resting.

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Read all A Flat kill chapters in order, HERE!

Trimensional anxiety – Chapter 13

On Friday morning, our stenographer arrived more scattered than commonly. The woman came straight in my office where I was with Tommy Hanson engaged in a conversation of the many different assumptions with the strange appearances and she threw the morning of Småstaden Posten to my desk. Front page, top post; Britt’s photo.
“It’s all over.” She said.
“All over?” Tommy and I looked at her in amazement.
“Online, print, magazines and newspapers. All over.” She said. “There are also more people disappearing,” she added.
“The directive?” I asked.
“Perhaps.” Tommy said.

“We should expect it to happen.” I said.
“Of course,” Tommy nodded.
“Right, everybody saw what we saw.”
“Right.”
“And the directive had to act.”
“Right,” the stenographer agreed.
“Britt’s face, name and address,” I mumbled in fear.

By Friday noon there was nowhere Britt could hide. Her face was everywhere, print and online, even on some adverts including one promoting a new hair-shampoo. News hounds of all breeds and types were scattered all around the town and especially the streets that led to Britt’s apartment. They overflowed the place and every corner around her building was snaked with cables of generators, television cameras and microphones while the press-photographers and paparazzi were having the snappy-shot time of their lives. A site had a photo of her toilet sit and another a snap of her dishwasher full of dirty glasses and plates. And obviously there was more to come.

Britt didn’t go to the directive and thankfully she stayed at my place, as we had already agreed waiting for us to finish and somehow make a plan or at least make a plan to work.

Following running procedures and rules. Tommy and I were permitted for an early leave. We literally run to my house where we found Britt looking outside of the sitting room’s window like a trapped bird.

“This is not our town anymore,” she said when we entered the house. “Our homes aren’t our homes anymore. Why can’t they go away and leave me in peace, damn them. I hate them all!”

And while saying that a vision of her head, her chest and one arm holding some kind of a cartoon came from the roof staring at her. Britt let a cry and run to the kitchen. Tommy and I remained in the room looking at the head that was looking for Britt.

Then Britt stormed back in the room screaming, “Who the hell are you?” No answer came just a small movement of the handless arm pointing at the white cartoon that had something incomplete written. Fragments of words, two letters one looked like an ‘R’ the other like ‘Y’ and more between them.
Britt was still screaming, “Go away,” tears falling in both chicks. “Please go away.”
And off it went.

Britt sat in the sofa slowly and quietly crying but Tommy and I looked each other with a something between owe and surprise. They, whoever they are, they try to communicate, with us. To be precise, with Britt. And she was there crying.

“I want to go away,” she said after a few minutes of silence. “I want to go up the hills and I don’t know, sail away far to the ocean.” I took her hand and she didn’t pull away. She was scared. I was scared. “Britt, darling…” I whispered but it was Tommy’s loud sigh that stopped me. This time there were two arms hugging from the roof and both pointing at the carton. The words were there only this time the word ‘RUN’ was clear.
“What the…” I heard my voice and the fear inside it.
And then nothing. Clear air with the three of us in shock staring at the roof and the word ‘RUN’ screaming in our minds.

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Read all the Trimensional anxiety chapters in order, HERE!