tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68455720692189662372024-03-13T07:23:57.839-04:00The Kingworks Creative BlogNow it's about my bookAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.comBlogger178125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-48818867602557677652016-03-07T19:27:00.000-05:002016-03-07T19:27:19.918-05:00Untitled: Chapter 16<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">This must be what being in shock feels like, thought Patrice as she ran behind Mr. Baine. But then, how am I able to think about it? Doesn't the fact that I am thinking about being in shock mean that I am not?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice rounded a corner and was dimly aware of bumping into Mr. Baine, who had stopped suddenly. She tried to think about something – anything – that did not involve the man on the bridge being ripped apart. He may have worked for Henri and been chasing her, but surely he did not deserve such a fate. She tried to block from her mind the vision of the vampire shredding first the man's clothing, scraps of fabric tossed aside like the feathers of a plucked chicken, then his flesh; to deny the pool of blood, glistening black in the dim light of the bridge, spreading everywhere like liquid shadow.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">They asked me something about Belfort. She struggled to remember what had transpired even an hour before. What else? Running, so much running, and … noise, and fear. Mostly fear. And that made her angry. She tried to think of something pleasant - or, at least, not terrifying and horrible. The only coherent mental image she could summon at the moment was of a great stone lion, powerful and serene. Mr. Baine lurched back and bumped into her a second time and her mind was off and racing yet again.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">So much has happened, it all blurs together. Maybe I am still in shock over Camille. Had her death been as gory and violent as that on the bridge? No, that vampire wasn’t as desperate. As soon as it had become aware of Patrice hiding in the bushes, it left her cousin’s remains to chase down a second meal. It got greedy. The vampire on the bridge, however, must’ve been out of its mind with hunger. It had … </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Look out!” Wendell grabbed her arm and yanked her to the side. With a gurgling hiss, a tattered form slumped to the ground where she stood but a second before. Looking down, Patrice was surprised to see a vampire – not the one on the bridge – lying in a heap, a wooden stake protruding from its chest. When had this happened?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“This one's fresh,” said Mr. Baine, nudging it with his toe. That look in his eye, was it satisfaction? "Got a uniform on, too." The corpse was that of a young man, dressed as the soliders at the gate had been.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Do you think they patrol out here?" said Wendell, turning to Patrice.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Where are we? Patrice realized that she had no recollection of their journey after the bridge.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Patrice.” Wendell gave her a gentle shake, “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I … no.” She shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs and bring herself into back to the here and now, “I'm fine.” She managed a weak smile. Mr. Baine stooped over the still form of his attacker and grasped the stake.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Should you do that?” said Wendell, “It will revive.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Eventually, maybe” said Mr. Baine, “But it's recently turned, doesn't appear to have fed yet, and is now mortally wounded.” With a grunt, he withdrew it, wiping the gore off on the dusty, bloodstained uniform. “Besides, I don't have many stakes left and the gatekeeper was right - this area is rotten with the buggers. Pardon the pun,” he said, looking down at the vampire. He got no reply.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Give one to Patrice," said Wendell.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Her?" said Mr. Baine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Me?" said Patrice.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"I just said I don't have many left."</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"I can fight and you have your gun," said Wendell, "She needs a means of defending herself, especially if we get separated."</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"One shot from the pistol and we'll have every bloodsucker is the region surrounding us."</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"That did not prevent you from shooting the man on the bridge." Wendell's voice was level, but Patrice could tell he was upset.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Look, I hate that it came to that, but we needed a diversion. Every one of these buggers fighting for scraps back at the bridge and blocking her uncle is one less over here chasing us."</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"It made us look like the killers we are accused of being." said Wendell.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"It saved her life," Mr. Baine pointed at Patrice with the stake, "She was the closest to it. If I hadn't drawn blood, she'd have been attacked."</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"I would have protected her." </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"And then ripped her to pieces right after? Possibly the both of us?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"No! Never!" Wendell's reply was adamant, but Patrice couldn't help but notice the monk look away as he said them. She decided to intervene.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"Maybe if I had a stake, I could have killed it." Patrice hoped her words sounded braver than she felt.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The two men turned and looked at her. </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"I ... I'm sick of feeling so ... helpless." The admission stung her pride a little, but at the same time it was as if a weight was lifting, "It's time I started taking care of myself." She squared her shoulders and held a hand out to Mr. Baine. "May I?"</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>There was a moment of stunned silence from both Wendell and Mr. Baine. Mr. Baine looked to Wendell, who nodded. Then, somewhat uncertainly, Mr. Baine extended to her the stake he was holding. "You're certain? This isn't a game." He said.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"It never was," she replied, taking the stake. It was only a bit of wood, but there was a weight to it - a realness - that Patrice had not expected. This was a weapon. It was primitive and crude, and would require her to be closer to one of those foul creatures than she ever hoped to be, but no less deadly for it, as the dark stain along the taper reminded her.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"We need shelter," said Wendell, his words intruding upon her grim rumination, "Something defensible." The morality debate had been postponed, for now.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice looked around, taking in the city beyond the walls for the first time. Several roads crisscrossed each other and a number of buildings stood silent and still in the night, though they were not nearly as densely packed as those within the fortifications. The area was littered with small craters; scraps of woods and chunks of broken masonry were heaped randomly against buildings or piled in the middle of the street.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Upon closer inspection, many of the buildings were boarded up and had holes gouged in them. A few were little more than ruins. These were the scars of the Prussian siege which had occurred almost twenty years ago. Patrice struggled to recall the details; history was never her best subject, but she was proud of her heritage and of her father who had served – and died - in the war. For those lessons, at least, she had made an effort to be attentive.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">An unsettling realization shouldered its way through her preoccupation: twenty years and still the people of Belfort have not reclaimed this portion of the city. Are they so afraid of the vampires? Perhaps, they are unable to wrest it from the plague of vampires which flourished in the wake and destruction of the war? Staring into the distance as she silently mulled this over, she noticed a hunched figure shamble into her line of sight from a set of ruins some distance away. It was too dark to see it in any great detail – a fact for which she was somewhat thankful – but could see well enough to realize it had stopped and was sniffing the air.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Company.” Wendell had seen it, too.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It's not coming any closer,” said Mr. Baine, “Surely it can sense us?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Realization dawned for Patrice, “We're outside of its territory.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That,” said Mr. Baine, a hint of shock and admiration in his normally dry tone, “is a surprisingly astute observation. Well done.” Patrice wasn't sure if she should be proud or offended.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“We should go,” said Wendell, “if the other vampires realize this one is incapacitated, they will cross over.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"You think they would?" asked Patrice.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"I would," said Mr. Baine with a shrug. "I wonder how they make the determination? They're not the sort to discuss matters over a cup of tea ..."</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>"We can discuss that later," said Wendell, urging them onward. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Keeping parallel to what they believed was the edge of the vampire's territory, the three of them hurried deeper into the shattered remains of Belfort-beyond-the-wall. They skirted a large building and crossed over the foundation of another, small portions of wall rising up from the earth like the craggy, rotten teeth of a giant. Patrice imagined a cavernous maw snapping closed on them as they walked and immediately wished she hadn't; the possibility of something like that happening felt all too real in this forsaken area.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Wendell, now in the lead, started to round another corner before pulling up sharply. Turning, he tapped his nose and pointed down a ruined street. After several tense moments of silence - at one point, Patrice could have sworn she heard a quiet hiss from somewhere in the shadows of the building opposite them - they started forward once more.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Sneaking through the streets on the other side of the walls – the 'safe' side - was a game compared to this, thought Patrice. Here, it feels as if the darkness itself will swallow us whole if we stand still for too long. Even the threat of violence at the hands of her uncle and his men had felt ... tame, compared to this. Possibly because there was nowhere they could feel safe out here. When you hid from a living, breathing human, there was a sense of exhilhiration at evading their senses, which was always a possibility; humans don't rely on their senses like they used to. But a relentless creature that's always hungry, hunting for food - it's never a question of 'if' you get caught, but 'when.' And given the poor state of the buildings they'd seen so far, Patrice didn't imagine it would take long. </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Her mind then took an unpleasant turn: What if someone - something - like Wendell was hunting them? Was there a chance the monk would turn on them? It seemed unlikely, given that he'd already risked his life to save her - and on multiple occasions. But Patrice had to admit that she barely knew anything about either of her companions. She wanted desperately to ask Wendell about his condition, but with things being so chaotic from the moment they'd met, it never seemed appropriate. It was clear to her that the monk was wrestling with demons; Patrice wanted to know what sort of threat he posed if he lost. If she was going to be traveling with them, it seemed only fair.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">They exited an alley and found themselves on the edge of a rough clearing. This was not a natural clearing, nor had it been designed as an open space. This particular block had suffered greatly during the Prussian seige twenty years earlier. Now, low walls and piles of rubble served as the only remains of the structures that once filled the area. All gone now, save one surviving townhouse standing alone in the middle. And there, on the ground level, slipping between the ragged curtains that had been pulled closed and sneaking out through boards nailed across windows, the warm glow of a lantern danced defiantly in the hungry night.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-86152898839011308032016-02-08T20:50:00.000-05:002016-02-08T20:50:13.488-05:00Untitled: Chapter 15<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The streets were far too empty and far too well-lit around the train station.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell, being the fastest of the three despite his sandaled feet, tried to lead them away from the center of town, but the unfamiliar sights and smells of Belfort were unhelpful at best, disorienting at worst. Had they gotten a better head start on their pursuers, the trio could have easily turned a corner and been safely away, but the sound of their shoes striking the pavement alerted the posse whenever they happened to escape their sight for an all-too-brief moment. As they ran, Wendell looked for a place to hide, some nook or cranny that would allow Henri’s men to pass them by, but no suitable place could be found to conceal all three of them. Mr. Baine was breathing heavily and Patrice looked as if she might faint at any moment. They would not be able to maintain this pace for long. Wendell could only hope the men chasing them were as winded as these two appeared.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Rounding a corner, they found themselves running along the western bank of a river which bisected the city. A lazy mist had formed in the cool night air and now stirred sluggishly over the surface of the water.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell cast his gaze, to the eastern shore, his sharp eyes picking out the bulk of a small mountain in the distance despite the haze. It was a mass of darkness rising into the moonlit sky, casting a deep shadow over the maze of buildings huddled at its base. It was less well-lit than the section of town they were currently in, having only the occasional glow from a street-corner lamp to offer any sort of definition to the area. A spark of hope kindled within him.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell turned to lead Patrice and Mr. Baine across the nearest bridge and into the deeper shadows of Old-town Belfort. He had no plan, no idea where he was going, their pursuers always but a moment behind.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Passing into the shadows on the far side of the river, Wendell could feel the darkness envelop them, a cool veil of shadow that draped itself weightlessly over them. The men in pursuit stopped for a moment as the trio crossed from the fuzzy halo of light created by a handful of streetlights dotting the bridge; their eyes could not plumb the wall of darkness into which they ran.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell’s ears noted the hesitation and he took the opportunity to steer Patrice and Mr. Baine off their road and on to another before Henri’s men crossed into the shadows and their vision could adjust to the deeper shadows. Another quick turn and Wendell brought them to a halt, trying to shush the pants and gasps of his companions as quietly as he was able, despite his own heaving breath.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The monk was doing his best to maintain focus, but his thoughts refused to fall in line. Damn it all. Do not think like this! Damn. it. A pang of guilt accompanied the repetition of the word, as it continued to bounce off the inside of his skull. DAMN it! Stop! A monk - a man of faith - should have more control of himself! But what was he supposed to do? He had no idea where he was going. They had gained a tiny reprieve from their pursuers, but could run into them again at any moment in the twisting darkness of the city. He hated feeling so … out of control? No, that wasn’t it. If he was out of control, people would be dying. He felt lost, but lost in a way that could not be rectified. He had to keep moving lest they be caught, but had no way of knowing if any turn he made was the right one and no way of correcting the mistake if it was not. Even the destination was a complete mystery. What should he do? Where should he go?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">This would be so much easier if he were alone, but he could not abandon Mr. Baine and Patrice. They were his friends and he - wait, 'friends?' Wendell performed the mental equivalent of rolling a new taste around in his mouth. Was Patrice really a friend? A chance occurrence in the woods brought them together. He and Mr. Baine had saved her - as they would have saved anyone in that situation, honestly - and saw her safely home. She attempted to repay their kindness, as he imagined anyone in her position would have done. Was there more to it? Why did they go to such trouble to save her on the train? He certainly couldn't imagine more than a handful of people for whom he'd be willing to risk life and limb by climbing across the tops of railroad cars on a moving train.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And what of Mr. Baine? If he were honest, his relationship with the man was only a few weeks older than it was with Patrice. For a man like Wendell, who had been quick to make acqaintances, but slow to make friends, back before … in a past life. For all intents and purposes, he was putting his life at risk for a couple of strangers. Did that make them friends?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Yes, he decided after a moment that felt like an hour, they are both my friends. And they are in danger and I have to get them away from these men. He was the reason they were in this mess, the reason Mr. Baine had come to France and the reason Patrice’s uncle now hounded them. The thought gave Wendell a bitter smirk. Me, hounded. Then another question shouldered its way into his thoughts: would they remain friends if they really knew him? Knew what he was capable of? Just wait, the shadow inside him whispered, they'll see what we can do.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Where are we going?” Patrice, with her simple breathless question, would never know how grateful he was at that moment for interrupting his thoughts.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “And how much further 'til we're there?” said Mr. Baine, less winded, but only slightly so.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Wendell shook his head, “I do not know.” the words tasted sour and unpleasant. “I am sorry.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Sorry? For what?” said Mr. Baine, “We're not dead yet, mate. And we appear to have slipped away, if only for a moment.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell appreciated his words, but could not relinquish his discouragement just yet, “I have no idea where to go.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Mr. Baine turned to Patrice, “Do you know this town?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> She shook her head, “I know we're in Belfort. Beyond that, I am as lost as you.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “In a situation like this,” he said, turning back to Wendell, “I trust your nose more than a hunch either of us might have." </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell started to reply, but Mr. Baine quickly added, "And if the nose fails, I've no doubt you have enough good karma saved up to see us through.” He concluded by giving the monk a single, firm pat on the shoulder. Wendell managed a weak smile, but inside a ball of ice had formed in the pit of his stomach. If anything, the scales of cosmic justice were tipped permanently against him.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “We should go.” Patrice looked nervously toward the end of the alley in which they stood.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell ventured ahead and peaked around the corner. A man stood in the dim light of a lone streetlamp roughly one block ahead of them, peering into the darkness around him. Wendell froze and then eased himself as flat against the wall as he was able. He was not sure if the man could see very far in the dark, but he did not want to take any chances, given his bright orange robes. Several unbearably loud heartbeats later and the man turned and ventured down another street. Wendell exhaled and led their small company out of the alley and away from the river.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">He felt like they were traveling East, though he had no way to be certain. As the moved down the street, he realized that the dark mountain that he had seen before was now looming over them, a shadow in the night sky. Cautiously rounding another corner, the trio found themselves standing at the edge of a large clearing running up to the base of the mountain. There, on a raised dais in a circle of light, crouched a gigantic stone lion. The stone visage was regal and stern; it spoke to Wendell of power at hand, but a power held in check. Despite everything else that was happening, Wendell found a moment of quiet awe for the sight.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Despite all that was going on, he could not help but feel some small measure of insigificance standing there. An unpleasant shudder tainted the moment as he considered how his own beast, the one that struggled within, might be portrayed.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Le Lion de Belfort,” Patrice whispered, “He is facing West.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “What is to the West?” said Mr. Baine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Nothing. It originally faced East, but the Prussians complained, and so it was turned around.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “East it is, then. I thought you were lost in Belfort?” There was a hint of suspicion in Mr. Baine's voice.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “There's not a schoolchild in all of France who does not know of the lion.” Patrice said.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Mr. Baine looked to Wendell. “Good enough for me,” said Wendell, “Let us go.”</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They skirted the edge of the clearing, every footstep thunderous and echoing to their own ears. They could not keep this up for long. Wendell caught himself wishing that one of Henri’s men would spot them, if only to break the tension. Somehow, running headlong through the streets was beginning to feel preferable to sneaking about in the dark. He very nearly got his wish as they came upon a large intersection by a cathedral. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The red sandstone facade was illuminated, being some distance from the haze of the river, and stood out in crisp detail against the surrounding darkness. Wendell, thinking they might petition for sanctuary, began to step out of the shadows in which they were concealed when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He drew back and scanned the area, turning his eyes from the architecture to the dark streets and alleys that led to the church. Downwind from their position he caught sight of them: a handful of Henri's men crowding a door in the side of the cathedral. They appeared to be sneaking in. Had he blundered out from the darkened alley in which they crouched, they would have seen him clear as day. The church would offer no safe haven this night. Turning back, they continued in darkness, making sure to keep the mountain on their left.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Before long the mountain dropped off, giving way to a wall that extended from the base and curved in front of them. They began to follow the street which ran along the wall, apparently around the perimeter of the old city. Rounding a corner, Wendell stopped short.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “What is it?” said Mr. Baine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “A gate.” said Wendell.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Excellent!”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “It is guarded.” For indeed, a pair of uniformed men carrying guns loitered by the opening in the wall. Mr. Baine uttered a quiet curse.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Surely they're not looking for us?” said Patrice. One of the men strolled past the gate, peering into the darkness beyond.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">His companion asked a question – Wendell had no idea what – to which the first shook his head. Neither man seemed overly concerned with the streets behind them.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “I do not think so.” said Wendell.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Mr. Baine shook his head, “No, they're keeping people from getting in. Enforcing a curfew, perhaps.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Let me talk to them,” said Patrice, “as long as they don't work for Henri, we should be fine.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> The three of them advanced down the street, as quickly as they dared without appearing as though they were fleeing anyone. Wendell made a conscious effort not to glance nervously over his shoulder and hoped that Patrice and Mr. Baine would, as well.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> They were soon spotted and, while the men did not train their weapons on the three of them, certainly held them at the ready. Patrice stepped forward and spoke to them in French. They replied and a brief exchange took place. Wendell dared breathe a sigh of relief at the fact that the men did not attempt to apprehend them outright. His hopes were held in check, however, by the incredulous look each man wore as Patrice replied to their last question. A firm shake of the head from one of the men told him all he needed to know, this was not going as smoothly as he'd hoped. Patrice turned back to them.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “They are with the city watch,” she said, “Apparently, when the Prussians attacked Belfort and were eventually repelled, the ruins caused by the siege became overrun with vampires. The portion of the city beyond the wall is off limits to all but the military until it is reclaimed.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “I'm afraid we can't wait that long," said Mr. Baine, "Did you explain that we can take care of ourselves?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “I did, but they are not keen to have blood on their hands.” Patrice sighed, “They think we're crazy for even asking.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Tell them we are part of the reclamation effort.” said Wendell.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “No one's going to believe that,” Mr. Baine rolled his eyes. “You look like an escaped circus peformer,” he said, nodding at Wendell. He stepped past them and raised his leather satchel to the nearest watchman, who simply stared back. “Here, take this,” he said. <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Setting the butt of his rifle on the ground, the man tucked the barrel into the crook of his arm and reached up to hold the bag with both hands while his companion stared at the bag, puzzled. As soon as the man had taken hold of the bag, Mr. Baine reached into his jacket and whipped out his pistol, aiming it between the eyes of the unencumbered watchman standing nearby.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The four of them - Wendell, Patrice, and the two watchmen – were utterly stunned.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Now my dear,” Mr. Baine said to Patrice, gently sliding the resting rifle from the arms of the man holding his bag, “kindly retrieve my bag and ask this gentleman to open the gate, ” he cocked the hammer on the pistol, “for his friend's sake.”</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Patrice shook herself from her stupor and stammered the request to the watchman. Wendell could the see fear, anger, and confusion in his eyes as he produced a large key and fumbled it into the lock that held closed a gate made of heavy iron bars. Inside the arch, a short drawbridge was raised, leaving a gap roughly twice the height of a man between it and the bridge that lay beyond. Barely wide enough to accommodate a carriage, the bridge spanned what Wendell first took to be an empty moat.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Wendell.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Leaning sideways he could see that it was not in fact a moat, but a depression that would put invaders well below the handful of gates set in the sloped walls …</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Wendell!”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “What? Sorry.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “The bridge appears to operate on a simple weight-driven mechanism.” Mr. Baine nodded towards a lever set in the wall opposite him, “Do you mind?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell stepped across the opening and pulled the lever. Somewhere behind the stonework, a set of gears clanked, a chain rattled, and the drawbridge lowered into place with a wooden thud.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A shout went up behind them. All five of them turned to see Henri's men come charging down the street. Patrice joined Wendell on the far side of the gate, while Mr. Baine grabbed his bag from the watchmen and, touching the barrel of his pistol to the rim of his bowler, said “Adieu” to the watchmen and bolted down the bridge after them, tossing the rifle over the edge as he went.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The soliders did not give chase. Instead from the yelling taking place behind them, Wendell surmised that the watchmen were refusing to give way to Henri’s men. Despite all that was happening, he hoped that no one would do something foolish and hurt someone.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">On the far end of the bridge rose a squat earthen structure, the walls of which were fortified with stone. The road they followed led right into it and, as there were hardly any working streetlights on this side of the wall, promptly made a sharp right-angle into pitch-black shadow. Where the shadows inside the walls had been a welcome sight and offered an opportunity for rest and escape, now Wendell found himself feeling apprehensive about what the darkness outside the city held for them. He tried to use his nose, but the breeze was carrying their scent into the pass, and refused to offer up any clue as to a possible ambush. He came to an abrupt stop, just beside the shadowed corner.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Why are we stopping?” asked Patrice.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Wendell was finding it hard to articulate precisely why he was so apprehensive. “I do not like this …”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> ”Like it or not, our options are extremely limited at the moment.” said Mr. Baine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Another yell caused them to look back at the gate. Two of Henri’s men had slipped past the watchmen and were advancing across the bridge. They paused uncertainly as Wendell, Mr. Baine and Patrice turned towards them, still well out of reach. That was when the vampire attacked.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Leaping from the darkness with little more than a rasping hiss, the creature wrapped itself around Wendell, who had been in the lead and standing closest to the shadows. The monk’s training took over and he used the momentum of the attack to carry the vampire over his shoulder, narrowly avoiding having his ear bitten off, and slammed it to the ground. But Patrice and Mr. Baine were still standing next to him, there was no way he could release it without endangering either of them. Both the men on the bridge and those standing at the gate stared in open-mouthed shock at the ensuing struggle.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The vampire, having gone head over heels, slashed at its prey with bony fingers and elongated nails, the result of its emaciated state. Wendell, struggling to keep it pinned to the ground by the shoulders, tried to maintain control as he avoided the wild strikes and gnashing teeth. A bony elbow caught him in the cheek; the sudden shock of the strike quickly turned into a red rage within him, bubbling up from his gut. He wanted to hurt the vampire, he wanted to rip it apart with tooth and claw. He wanted to hurt those standing around doing nothing, so weak and helpless … No, he didn't want that at all - it was the beast, straining at its chains. If he didn’t do something - and quickly - they would all be in grave danger.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell stepped around the prone form of the vampire, grabbed it’s other shoulder and jerked it to it’s feet. Continuing the motion, he fell backwards, rolling smoothly onto his back and, placing his feet on the vampire’s midsection, launched it with inhuman strength down the bridge. It landed with a sickening crunch halfway between them and the pair of Henri’s men who had made their way onto the bridge.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Unfazed, albeit slightly disoriented, the vampire got to its feet and hissed angrily at Wendell. It had not expected supper to withstand its initial assault. Flexing its sharp fingers, it took a step towards Patrice - perhaps she would be easier prey.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “No time for this.” said Mr. Baine, as he stepped forward and leveled his pistol. There was a thunderous crack and a puff of smoke as hammer struck firing pin and a howl of pain echoed in the night. Behind the vampire, the man closest to it crumpled to the ground clutching his leg.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Everyone, including the vampire, looked at the man as he lifted a trembling, blood-covered hand to inspect the oozing hole in his leg. Only then did he realize his mistake. A decrepit blur of teeth and claws descended upon him before anyone could react.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> “Run!” said Mr. Baine, charging into the darkness.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell, the urges within him dying along with the man’s screams, looked at Patrice. The girl emitted a single choked sob - fear? disgust? anger? Wendell wasn’t sure if those words described the girl running past him, or his own feelings at what just happened.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As he turned to follow his companions, the monk looked back just in time to see the surviving man on the bridge reach the gate and slam it shut behind him. All of them, Henri's men and the Belfort watchmen, stared in horrified silence while the creature fed. No one else would be crossing the bridge this night. Then, offering a brief, silent prayer for the dead man, Wendell headed once more into the darkness to see what new horrors this journey held in store for him.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-26788448128840311082016-02-01T20:29:00.002-05:002016-02-01T20:33:44.310-05:00Untitled: Chapter 14<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“If Patrice is on the train, then so is her uncle.” said Mr. Baine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /> “Is this a warning, or a plea for help?” said Wendell, holding up the napkin. Despite their modest accommodations in the foremost passenger car of the train, he was grateful for the noise of the engine which helped to obscure their conversation.<br /><br /> “Depends. Obviously, Patrice knows we're on the train. The question is: does Henri? If so, I think he would have acted by now; he did not strike me as a man of patience.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /> “Do not forget, there was another man with them.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /> Mr. Baine nodded, “Merely an assistant or hired help of some sort, if we're fortunate ...”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /> “An officer of the peace, if we are not.” Wendell finished the thought.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /> “Or an assassin. Honestly, I'd prefer dealing with an assassin,” said Mr. Baine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /> “Why on earth would you prefer dealing with a professional killer over the law?”<br /><br /> Mr. Baine shrugged, “Nobody's going to ask questions if an assassin goes missing. Nature of the profession and all that.”<br /><br /> Wendell sighed. “That aside, what are we going to do about Patrice?”<br /><br /> “I take it your assessment of the situation is that she needs rescued?”<br /><br /> “You feel otherwise?”<br /><br /> “As I said, it all depends on what Henri knows. That determines if Patrice’s role in this is merely as a hostage or as bait.”<br /><br /> “Either way, she needs help.” said Wendell, “I will not ask you to put yourself in harm’s way, but we should have a plan.”<br /><br /> “Indeed.” Mr. Baine paused for a moment, lost in thought; Wendell imagined he could hear the gears turning within his skull. His mind wondered a tiny bit further and he remarked to himself that Mr. Baine was a man whose gears were probably always turning and, therefore, well-oiled and deathly silent in their continual spinning.<br /><br /> “Allow me to try and glean some information from the conductor,” said Mr. Baine, “The more information we have, the better our chance of success.” With that, he rose and stepped past Wendell into the aisle. Seeing that the conductor was not in their car, Mr. Baine made his way out the back and further down the train.<br /><br />Wendell leaned back in his seat. He tried to focus his thoughts, to contemplate the situation in calm objectivity, but his mind was a tempest. Complications seemed to be arising unexpectedly and of their own volition - all centered around this young woman he and Mr. Baine had happened across in the forest a mere two days ago.<br /><br />The monk closed his eyes and modulated his breathing using a technique honed by years of practice in the temple. After a few short minutes of this, he began to feel the ebb and flow of time begin to slow and the noisy clattering rumble of the train fall away; he began to experience a sensation of weightlessness, as if his body were floating inches above the padded bench on which he sat. He was aware of the sensations generated by his surroundings - the noise and pressure of the physical world. But at the same time he was outside of it all, as if existing at a different frequency.<br /><br /> His consciousness flowed and extended into every part of his body. There was a swirling blue sensation as he passed through his wounded shoulder down into the left arm. It was still tender, but almost completely healed. A small scar, no bigger than the bullet which had passed through his body, would be all that remained of the injury before long. Wendell had to begrudgingly admit - though he would never utter the words to his companion - that, yes, sometimes the burden he carried had its benefits. The cost, through, was something with which he would never be at peace.<br /><br /> Wendell felt the pressure in the car change slightly as the door in the back was opened. He finished settling back into himself, felt the weight of stress and the heaviness of his heart settle upon him once more, as Mr. Baine made his unsteady way up the center aisle.<br /><br /> “I have news” said Mr. Baine, falling into his seat, “First, the train will not arrive in Belfort until well past sundown. Unless we plan to jump from a moving train in broad daylight, we'll have to wait, whatever out course of action.”<br /><br /> “It may come to that,” said Wendell, who noticed the serious look his companion still wore, “There is something else, though.”<br /><br /> A grave nod from Mr. Baine. “There's an exciting bit of gossip floating around involving an eccentric man of means purchasing tickets for an entire passenger car near the rear of the train. Apparently, that car is filled with a rather crude collection of men, much to the dismay of some of the other gentlefolk who've had to pass through them in order to reach the dining car.”<br /><br /> Wendell felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach, “That … complicates matters.<br /><br /> “It does indeed.”<br /><br /> =====================================<br /><br /> Patrice sat, staring out the single large window of their passenger cabin, and waited. There was little else she could do. The boy in the dining car had not been able to speak with her directly upon his return, as Georges had returned to the table. A quick glance as the lad re-entered the dining car rewarded her with a with a skittish nod. She could only assume that her message - if it could even be considered as such - had been received.<br /><br /> But would it be understood? Mr. Baine struck her as a clever man and Wendell was … Wendell. What did that mean? Patrice was not entirely sure. She considered the monk for a moment, he was certainly unique - a white man from the West who spent a number years living in the Far East, struggling with some curse that threatened to turn him into a monster - but there was more to it than that. Wendell had a presence about him that few possessed.<br /><br /> She remembered their first encounter in the forest; the stoicism he maintained while facing a soulless predator. Even afterward, as he struggled with the change that began to creep over him during the heat of battle, he demonstrated a determination to stay in control of himself. But, did that uniqueness occur because of his condition, or in spite of it?<br /><br />A rustle of paper drew her gaze as Henri turned the page of a newspaper he had picked up on his way back from the parlor car. Across from him - beside her - Georges snored quietly in the corner. Patrice turned back to the window and continued to wait as the sun began to descend. She waited as the vineyards of the southern Champagne turned into rolling fields of barley and alfalfa. She waited as the fields gave way to foothills, dotted with dense stands of pine. Stars began to reveal themselves in the night sky and still she waited.<br /><br />No signs had been witnessed, no extra-ordinary happenings or covert messages of any kind manifested. Patrice was losing hope. Perhaps they had not gotten her message and she had mistaken the serving boy’s attempt to be discrete. Perhaps they could not decipher any deeper meaning in a dirty napkin being presented to them seemingly at random. What if they had already tried to rescue her and failed? They might have attempted to pass through Henri’s thugs congregated in the passenger car ahead of them and gotten captured or, worse yet, killed. There was no commotion, though, no breathless messenger banging on their door with news of any sort, so it seemed unlikely.<br /><br />A cold knot developed in the pit of her stomach and, with the passing of each uneventful hour, grew like a snowball tumbling slowly down a hill. What if nothing was happening because nothing was being done? What if Wendell and Mr. Baine were simply done with Patrice and did not want to risk encountering Henri? She had nothing to contribute to their journey and offered only the risk of being killed for their trouble. What sane person would come for her under these circumstances?<br /><br /> A knock at the door nearly caused Patrice to jump out of her skin. She did her best to maintain the look of bored despair she had settled into for the last couple of hours, lest any hint be given to either of her traveling companions of who - or what, she suddenly realized - may be waiting on the other side of the door. Sure enough, Henri, who had glanced up at the sound, turned to scrutinize her. Patrice tried to look as defeated as she felt, up until a few seconds ago; the last thing she wanted her uncle to see was an ounce of hope in her posture, her face or even her eyes.<br /><br /> Apparently satisfied with what he saw - or failed to see - Henri nodded to Georges, who was now awake, albeit drowsy. Slowly, the hired man stood and reached for the door. He gripped the knob, braced himself slightly, and turned it. Patrice could feel the quiet intake of her breath choked off by her heart, which suddenly felt as if it had jumped up into her throat. The door opened at a glacial pace to reveal ...<br /><br /> “Bonsoir,” said the conductor, with artificial cheer, “We shall be arriving at Belfort within the hour.”<br /><br /> While Georges and Henri visibly relaxed, Patrice deflated like a balloon. There would be no rescue attempt; no one had come for her and no one would. She spent what remained of the trip willing herself to not cry in front of her uncle.<br /><br /> =====================================<br /><br /> Eventually, the mournful wail of the train’s whistle drifted back to them, and they felt the gentle push that came with the gradual application of the brakes as they entered Belfort. Henri rose immediately, opened the door and braced himself within the frame.<br /><br /> “I will be the first off this train,” he said, answering the puzzled looks of both Georges and Patrice, “Georges, you stay in the cabin with Patrice and make sure she does not leave this room!”<br /><br /> “We're not going with you?” said Georges. His disappointment at the prospect of having to stay in the small stuffy, cabin was poorly disguised.<br /><br /> Henri snorted. “After you nearly let her escape at the last stop? I think not.” He shook his head, “No, you will lock the door behind me. No one enters or leaves until I return from searching the station.” Georges nodded sullenly.<br /><br /> “You didn't see them in Troyes, uncle,” said Patrice, “What makes you think they are now in Belfort.”<br /><br /> “I was distracted in Troyes,” Henri said, an edge to his voice, “You'll not interfere again.”<br /><br /> “I thought you would not let me out of your sight again,” said Patrice, falling into the familiar tone with which she often goaded her uncle.<br /><br /> “Priorities, niece.” he said, “I will see to it that there is a reckoning - first for them, then for you.”<br /><br /> With a final loud hiss, the train rolled to a stop at the Belfort train station. Henri stepped into the hallway and turned back to Georges.<br /><br /> “Remember, keep this door locked. Do not let any-”<br /><br /> The cabin grew dim for a split second before the exterior window exploded inward, filling the air with crystalline shrapnel. A figure came swinging in through the window. Covering her face for fear of the flying shards of glass, Patrice could just barely make out a bright orange blur as it collided, feet first, with Georges. The door to the cabin, which opened into the room, banged shut as his limp form slammed against it and crumpled to the floor with a sigh. Henri was knocked back into the hallway as the door slammed - quite literally - on his face.<br /><br /> Wendell got to his feet, carefully shaking bits of glittering glass from among the orange folds of his robes.<br /><br /> “Are you hurt?” he asked.<br /><br /> Patrice, stunned into silence by the sudden transition from unexpected terror to overwhelming relief, could only stammer incoherently. Despite barely knowing the man, Patrice had never been so happy to see someone in her entire life.<br /><br /> The spell was broken by a pounding at the door, which elicited from her a surprised gasp. The door moved in a few inches, but was prevented from opening by the unconscious body of Georges.<br /><br /> “Help! My niece is being abducted!” Henri shoved against the door once more, creating just enough of a gap to get part of one arm into the room. His hand resembled less the appendage of a civilized man than the grasping claw of a savage as the curling fingers flailed blindly next to her. More quietly than his plea for help, Henri pressed his face to the opening and snarled at Georges, “Wake up, you fool! Get out of the way!”<br /><br /> Wendell took Patrice by the hand and led her towards the window where the crown of a nondescript brown bowler bobbed impatiently.<br /><br /> “Hurry girl,” said Mr. Baine, “We're pressed for time!”<br /><br /> Another thump behind them, and Henri had gotten his head and shoulder through the door. He pointed at Wendell.<br /><br /> “Murderer!” he yelled, “You'll not escape justice this time!”<br /><br /> Wendell pulled his cloak down from where it had been tied and used to swing into the cabin. He used it to cover the jagged lower edge of the window and turned, extending a hand to Patrice.<br /><br /> “Wait!” Patrice stepped towards her uncle, grabbed the extended finger and twisted it sideways with a quiet pop. Henri’s eyes went wide in shock; a howl of rage and pain split the air. He began to thrash about.<br /><br /> “Harlot! Sow! You are dead! DEAD!”<br /><br />Wendell quickly scooped Patrice into his arms and passed her through the window to Mr. Baine. A moment later and she was safely on the ground.<br /><br /> “Hurry!” The monk hopped out after them, and they ran for the nearest exit. Patrice could feel the eyes of everyone in the station upon them. She prayed that the crowd would be so dumbfounded by the spectacle that no one would think to prevent their escape.<br /><br /> “MURDERERS! YOU WILL HANG!” Suddenly, the attention they had gotten from people in the station was drawn back to the train. Henri had gained the cabin and was now leaning as far out the window as he could, his broken finger cradled gently to his chest. “Stop them, you idiots!”<br /><br /> From around the back of the train, brandishing cudgels and knives, nearly a dozen of Henri’s men came charging after them.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-13090831429706784002016-01-25T08:39:00.003-05:002016-01-25T08:39:36.048-05:00Untitled: Chapter 13<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice sat in numb disbelief as her uncle devoured his meal with aplomb, his appetite apparently stimulated by his recent … what? What exactly had he done? He left with Pierre, then returned alone. Thrown him from the train, she surmised. But she had witnessed nothing directly. Assuming there was anyone Patrice could report the incident to, she was sure Henri would talk his way out of the situation. Perhaps he would claim the young man attacked him or something equally ridiculous, but his easy lies and his money would see him safely through as it had so many times before.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “You have barely touched your food, niece,” Henri said, interrupting her thoughts, “Is it not to your liking?” Even seemingly casual comments from the man were delivered tipped with venom.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice wanted to reply - possibly even scream at him at the top of her lungs - but whatever words she would have formed seemed to catch in her throat, so she merely shook her head.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Nothing ever is.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice said nothing. Henri, seeing that his insult would not provoke a reaction, continued, “I must say, while the cuisine is no match for the meals I enjoy back in Paris, the food here is surprisingly adequate. Perhaps if you will not eat, Georges here will be happy to finish it for you.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice contemplated the man dining next to her. There, Georges sat, his arm curled protectively around his plate as he sat hunched over what remained of his meal. His table manners left much to be desired, but Patrice found that she really was not offended; he was not trying to be rude, the man simply did not know any better. A quick glance around the dining car, though, showed that not everyone felt as magnanimous.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Georges seemed unfazed by the attention he was getting, if indeed he was aware of the unflattering stares at all. She gathered that this meal was a rare opportunity for Georges, and he was going to make the most of it. She found herself wondering what sort of meals the man was used to. Under normal circumstances, Henri would never have offered to buy food for an employee, much less be seen in polite company with a common laborer. But his determination to keep Patrice on a tight leash won out over any concern he had about any gossip among his peers of sharing a table with hired help. She also could not help but wonder if the high spirits of her uncle after Pierre’s disappearance had prompted him into a moment of uncharacteristic generosity.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Lunch was nearly finished when Patrice noticed that the gentlemen from the surrounding tables were excusing themselves and moving to the next car up in the train. Henri had noticed it as well, and it was having a strange effect on him.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Where are they going?” she asked.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “There's a parlor car in front of this one. They are going for an after-meal cigar, I wager,” he said, his eyes quickly scanning each of the finely-dressed men as they moved past.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice finally realized what was happening with her uncle. If there was one thing closer to his heart than the desire to avenge his dear departed daughter, it was money. The men headed to the parlor car were, in all probability, wealthy businessmen - potential clients or future partners in a new venture - and Henri was weighing the cost of staying behind to keep his niece under his thumb.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Henri turned to regard Georges, who was still eating. He frowned. “I have decided to join them. Finish up and take her back to the room.” Mouth full, Georges could only nod in reply.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “You're not afraid I will escape again?” Patrice said.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “You didn't escape,” said Henri, more concerned with getting into the parlor than sparring with her yet again, “Besides, I will be on the car ahead of you, and my men are but a car or two behind us - not to mention the fact that we are on a moving train.” <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>That said, he rose from the table and fell into step behind the group of men making their way out of the dining car. Patrice slumped back in her chair, folded her arms and expelled a quiet sigh of frustration. As much as she hated to admit it, her uncle was right; she could see no way out of her present situation.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The remaining diners were finishing their meals and began to leave the dining car. Two boys in aprons, waiters’ assistants, began cleaning the tables. One of the boys, working on the table next to where Georges and Patrice sat, turned and asked if he could remove Henri’s setting.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Is there a bar on this train?” George said. The question was a surprise to both the boy and Patrice.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Y-Yes sir,” said the boy, “in the parlor car.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Could you fetch me a beer? If so, I have a franc for you.” said Georges. He caught Patrice staring at him in disbelief. “I'm paid to do a great many things, but I've never been paid enough to pass up a beer. I doubt even your uncle has that kind of money.”<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> The boy glanced around, no one seemed to be paying any attention to the conversation. “I … suppose I could,” he said, “What kind would you like?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “What're my options?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “I honestly don't know, sir, but you can see the bar from the window in the door, if you like.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> Georges started to stand, but caught himself mid-movement and turned to regard Patrice. “Will you stay put?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> Patrice shrugged, “As my uncle has pointed out, where can I go?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> Georges' brow furrowed as he briefly contemplated the situation, nodding to himself as he reached a conclusion. “I only need a moment,” he said, walking towards the door in the far corner that connected the dining car with the parlor.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">A spark of hope flared briefly within Patrice. This was an opportunity! But what could she do? Where could she go? Her eyes sped across the dining car and finally came to rest on the plate of half-eaten food in front of her. An idea occurred to her.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Boy,” said she, whispering, “I have a very import favor to ask of you.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">==============================</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">There was a cheerful fire providing light to the room. The woman sitting beside it was beautiful - for some reason that thought stood out to him; her beauty was familiar, but only rarely contemplated. The lamp on the table next to her gave her skin a ethereal glow. He wondered if the woman knew how beautiful he found her and resolved to tell her more. She was reading a book to a pair of children, one nestled on each side of her. It was an idyllic scene and he stood watching it, fearing that the slightest movement or sound sound might cause it to evaporate suddenly. The three of them stopped their reading to look at him; her gaze was warm and inviting and the children smiled. At first.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Warmth was gradually replaced with puzzlement, which then quickly gave way to fear. What was wrong? He started to move towards her. The children buried their faces in her side, clutching at their stuffed animals and blankets. She was panicked and opened her mouth, drawing a deep breath. She was going to scream. He felt himself rush upon them as they cowered, falling upon them like a tidal wave of darkness.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “P-pardon moi, sir?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Anger and sadness and fear and loss ...</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Sir?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The smell of food.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Wendell.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Something struck his arm.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Wake up!”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Wendell sat up with a start and looked around. Beside him, Mr. Baine wore an expression that was equal parts annoyance and concern.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Bad dream?” he said.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> Wendell nodded.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “You were growling in your sleep.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Wendell felt the blood drain from his face as he looked at his traveling companion.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “I thought it was funny, at any rate.” Mr. Baine shrugged, then raised a finger to point past Wendell to the aisle running next to him. Standing there was a boy in an apron looking terribly uncertain. “This young man would like to speak with you.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Me?” Wendell looked at the boy, “Can I help you?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “I was asked to give you something, monsieur,” he reached into a pocket on the front of his apron and fished out a dirty napkin.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The monk could only imagine the look of confusion he wore as he plucked it from the boy’s hand, but it could not be helped. “Who asked you to bring this to me?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “I don't know her name, monsieur,” the boy looked as confused as he felt, “A young woman, in the dining car. She asked me to deliver this to you. She described your </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> orange robes specifically.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Is that all?” Mr. Baine asked.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Oui. She said the man in the orange robes would know what to do.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Was she alone?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> The boy shook his head, “There were two men with her, an older gentleman and another besides.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Two men and a young woman ...” Mr. Baine rubbed at the stubble on his chin.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “Please, monsieur, I must return to the dining car …”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “You have done as you were asked, thank you.” Wendell gave a nod, giving the boy leave to hurry out the back of the car.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “I must say, courting rituals among the French certainly leave something to be desired.” Mr. Baine quipped.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “This makes no sense,” said Wendell.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> "It's not even clean."</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “It is a message of some sort - a message that could not be written out, spoken or delivered in person for some reason.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> "Not an environment conducive to messages, then.” said Mr. Baine. “There must also have been a risk of interception ... Perhaps her handlers would disapprove of her contacting you?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Even without holding it to his nose, Wendell could smell the residue of rich food still clinging to the napkin. The odors prompted his stomach to rumble in discontentment, reminding him of the full breakfast they had enjoyed just this morning, and of the lunch they could not afford but a few hours later. And then, just now, was that the smell of … ? Wendell slowly raised the napkin to his nose and inhaled deeply.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “What is it?” Mr. Baine had sensed the shift in his companion, puzzlement replaced by tension.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> “She is here,” Wendell said, “Patrice is on the train.”</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-19360944874581506052016-01-11T08:33:00.001-05:002016-01-11T08:33:48.569-05:00Untitled: Chapter 12<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">If the train ride from to Paris to Troyes had been uncomfortable before, it was unbearable now - thanks in no small part to the tension added by the presence of the young soldier. In order to accommodate Pierre in the small room, and also as punishment for nearly allowing Patrice to escape, Claude had to rejoin his companions in their reserved passenger car further up the train. The man had been surprisingly enthusiastic about the demotion.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The room now contained Pierre, Patrice, Georges, and Henri himself, who made no effort to hide his displeasure at the sudden change to his travel plans. Despite this, he managed to keep his thoughts to himself. A frosty silence has descended upon the cabin, which was just as well for Patrice, as her own thoughts had yet to extend beyond ‘What now?’</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">She had given up her best - and possibly only - chance of eluding her uncle. The action had not been without purpose, but the solace that provided was tempered by the fact that yet another person had been ensnared in her mess of a life. She found herself stealing the occasional glance over at the uniformed young man sharing her seat. He was not unattractive; given different circumstances, a little flirtation would not have been out of the question ... Patrice shook the thought from her head; romance was most certainly not going to improve matters; at best it would be a waste of time better spent devising a plan of escape.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Patrice reviewed the facts of her current situation: She was on the last car of a moving train, personally guarded by her uncle and one of his hired men; Wendell and Mr. Baine sat oblivious to her presence on the first car; between them was a car full of Henri’s thugs, whose very presence was to help him capture - and kill, in all probability - the two men.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Despite the presence of the solider, she could not seem to factor him into the equation. He was an anomaly, a random element that Patrice suddenly realized she was thinking around. She wondered if her uncle were having similar thoughts about the man as he sat and plotted.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">An hour after their departure from Troyes, the ice finally broke.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Where are your parents?” The question, indeed, the sound of a voice at all, come so unexpectedly that the remaining three occupants of the cabin found themselves starting uncomprehendingly at an increasingly red Pierre.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Patrice’s mind finally processed the question and realized it was she who had been addressed. “My mother is back in Paris with my aunt. My father died in the war when I was little.”</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I'm sorry to hear it.” said Pierre, who then turned to Henri, “Did you serve in the war, monsieur?”</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Briefly.” Henri sniffed.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Were you there when Paris fell?”</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I happened to be deployed elsewhere at the time.” said Henri, looking out the window.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I see.” said Pierre. Henri turned to regard the young man; Patrice noted that his eyes narrowed the slightest bit. He took a breath, but Patrice jumped in before her uncle could reply.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“What led you to join the Gendarmerie Nationale?”</span></div>
<div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Pierre’s ears flushed crimson. “You will think me a fool …” (this prompted a snort from Henri, which he either missed or graciously ignored) “but I grew up hearing women speak of their fondness for the uniformed men … ” Patrice smiled, despite herself. The soldier continued, “In all seriousness, living so close to the border - on the heels of a war, no less - I grew up on the stories of soldiers and being told the importance of a strong military. Enlisting was a natural progression. Only, these days it's not Prussians we're on guard against, but the undead.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Patrice hesitated before she asked her next question, but decided that it needed to be asked, “Have you encountered any? Vampires, I mean.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Henri and even Georges, who had been doing his best to appear interested in a book he found somewhere, looked to see what the soldier’s reaction would be. To his credit, Pierre seemed to be perfectly comfortable discussing the matter. “Just once, on a rural patrol. Wretched thing. Putting it down was an act of mercy, though I cannot claim to have delivered the fatal blow. Like most of France’s troubles of late, they seem to have come from the east. Unfortunately, they are not yet considered enough of a threat that the gendarmerie will dedicate the resources needed to eradicating them. Why do you ask?”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“My cousin was killed by a vampire.” The reply escaped her lips before Patrice could give any thought to how her uncle would react.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“NO!” Henri erupted, “Those men you brought into my house killed my daughter! Do not lie to this man to assuage your conscience.” Had the tiny room not been so cramped, he might have stood. As it was, her uncle contended himself with leaning forward to thrust an accusatory finger at his niece.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“How can something that is dead be killed?” Patrice sat forward herself. Perhaps if she could convince him of Camille’s death earlier that cursed evening, then he would call off his blind quest for revenge.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Because they are not dead - they are infected, you foolish girl! If they were truly dead, then they would not need blood to sustain themselves, would they? Dead things do not eat, they are dead! There are many prominent thinkers who say that the affliction can be cured, especially if the infection was recent.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Patrice tried to alter her uncle’s momentum, “So you admit that Camille had been turned?”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I admit that whether she was a vampire or not, those villains had no right to kill her - in my own house, no less! Ignoring everything else, the fact remains, Patrice, that you brought it all to my door!”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Are you angry because you lost your daughter, or because something unpleasant has occurred in your house?” Patrice said, throwing herself back in her seat and crossing her arms. She knew her uncle despised a particular affectation she sometimes used when she was being belligerent - a tone of voice combined with a shaking of her head - and she made sure to use it now, “You're not angry, nor are you sad - you fear a scandal. The neighbors’ gossip is what you fear.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Henri was apoplectic. “You insolent little … !” he moved to strike her. Suddenly, Pierre was standing between them, preventing the blow. Henri sputtered; Georges sat up, but made no move against the solider.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“That is enough,” despite the situation, the young man was remarkably composed and maintained a calm - but firm - tone, as he leveled his gaze at the businessman, “I have been tasked with this girl’s safety. You may not strike her. Remember, sir, that I am under orders to give a report of this journey to my commanding officer. I don't think he will react kindly to more evidence of your tendency towards striking young women.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I .. I …” Henri was off-balance and floundered. He finally decided to shut his mouth and sat chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment. Pierre remained where he was, ready to weigh the response to come. When Henri next spoke, his voice was in that carefully even tone that always made Patrice uneasy, “I apologize. Clearly, the recent loss of my daughter is causing me no end of torment. I have allowed this girl to manipulate me.” He produced a heavy sigh. “With your permission, I would like to step out to the rear platform. I think the fresh air would help me regain my composure.“</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Pierre sat down, allowing Henri room to move, “I think that is an excellent idea.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Henri stood and made his way to the door. Just before he stepped out of the room, he turned to Pierre and said, “I wonder if you would be willing to join me, perhaps for a smoke? Some polite conversation would be most welcome.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I'll go with you, boss,” said Georges, moving to join Henri.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No,” said Henri, “I asked Pierre to join me.” Georges looked somewhat crestfallen, as he sat back in his seat.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Pierre turned to Patrice. “Are you okay with this?”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Patrice shrugged and nodded, “I will be fine.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The soldier stood and followed Henri out the door, heading for the rear of the train. Patrice glanced over at Georges, who was wearing a frown.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Why do you work for him?” she said.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Georges shrugged, “Need the money.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“But, he is so mean.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Guys like me don't have a lot of options when it comes to work. A mean boss that pays well is better than a good boss who don't - or no boss at all.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I see.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“No disrespect, mademoiselle, but you don't see. Not at all.” It was clear that Georges did not want to pursue the discussion further. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Several minutes of awkward silence passed before the sudden opening of the door startled them both. Her uncle, his hair in disarray, stepped in and picked up the bag of Pierre’s belongings and disappearing again. A brief moment later, he returned. Alone and in high spirits.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Where is Pierre?” A sick, cold feeling began to percolate in Patrice’s stomach.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“After discussing the matter, Pierre has decided to part ways with us.” Henri said, straightening his hair.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“You … paid him to leave?”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“I didn't have to.” Henri tried and failed to suppress a wicked smile.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“But … his report!” Patrice could not believe, according to the evidence available, had just transpired.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Henri nodded gravely, then brightened as he said, “I have graciously offered to submit the report on his behalf.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Patrice felt on the verge of tears when a knock at the door suddenly drew the attention of everyone in the room. The tension became palpable as Henri nodded to Georges, who, after a moment’s hesitation, stood and opened the door to find the conductor standing before him. Then tension became even more unbearable as he looked around Georges, then said, “I was given to believe that there were four passengers in this cabin?”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“There were, but our companion decided to get off in Troyes. Not a fan of trains, it seems.” said Henri.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Ah, well. I just wanted to let you know that lunch has been prepared in the dining car.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Excellent. Thank you.” said Henri. With that, the man moved to the next door to repeat the procedure.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Well,” said Henri, glancing around “Are either of you as hungry as I?”</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-39209454709266724402015-12-23T12:10:00.000-05:002015-12-23T12:10:37.337-05:00Untitled: Chapter 11<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> Those standing near the last car turned to see what the noise was about. Since the commotion was nearly unintelligible and easily missed in the noisy hustle and bustle of a full train station platform, the ruckus did not provoke much of a reaction. The fancy couple and the group of women, however, watched with nervous interest.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; text-indent: 48px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> With a narrow lead - no more than a few steps at most - Patrice weaved in and out of the numerous bodies before her, trying to find the nearest station exit. The steam was starting to dissipate, but, coupled with the dense crowd and her limited stature, still managed to disorient her to the point that she was not sure which direction she should be running. At last, a glimpse of a doorway just ahead lifted her spirits. Patrice did not even care where it led, if she could just get through it without Henri’s goons noticing …</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">A rough hand landed heavily on her shoulder. She tried to squirm out from under it, but the fingers dug painfully into her collarbone; the sensation caused her eyes to water and her knees to buckle. She was caught, her hope of escaping suddenly becoming even less substantial than the steamy haze in which she stood. A moment passed and the hand lifted away. Patrice looked around to discover that the rest of Henri’s men had caught up to them and had encircled her.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Henri, just now catching up, breathlessly shoved his way into the small ring of bodies to stand before her. Red with rage, he raised his hand. Patrice flinched, but the blow never came. She was suddenly aware of someone standing behind her.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “What is going on here?” Patrice turned to find a man wearing the uniform and insignia of an officer of the Gendarmerie Nationale standing there, glancing around at the group of men, his gaze coming to rest heavily on Henri. She wondered how he could appear so casual standing in the middle of group that was, in all probability, hostile. She then caught sight of several more uniforms hovering around the periphery of the circle. The man was not alone. Unlike Henri’s mismatched gang, these men were all of a robust build and moved confidently. No lackeys they, but trained soldiers.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> The crimson flush of Henri’s features receded noticeably, but his ears remained bright pink. It was as if the rage was being drained from him, though Patrice knew better.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> Slowly, stiffly, his hand fell to his side. “My niece was nearly killed in a riding accident at a young age. The experience addled her brain and made her prone to fits of hysteria.” He spoke in a voice so calm and level that it caused a chill to run down Patrice’s spine in a way that his yelling never had. “Since my own blessed child passed away, she is the closest thing to a daughter I have left, so we are headed to Munich to see a specialist. The poor thing isn't used to traveling abroad, and tried to run off on her own.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> The officer snorted derisively. “A Bavarian specialist. Is there such a thing?” He nodded to the men circling the three of them, “And it takes this many men to escort a single girl?” His skepticism was evident, but not unassailable.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “She is a handful, I will admit.” The pinkness was gone from Henri’s ears now, and his posture relaxed a little, “But no, I am also conducting business there, and do not trust foreign hands to respect my property.” Damn our family’s ability to lie, Patrice thought.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “And she will corroborate this?” The officer said, turning to Patrice, but keeping and sharp eye on her uncle.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “Tell him, Patrice,” A wicked gleam came into Henri’s eye, “Tell him why we are going to Munich.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “I …” Patrice wanted desperately to tell the soldier what was going on, how her uncle was dragging her along on a mission to kill two men - one whom was a monster of some sort, but kind - who had saved her from her undead cousin after they had foolishly run off to see a vampire for themselves . Running the tale over in head, she realized that the truth was only going to nourish the seed Henri had already planted about her mental instability. “He ... hits me,” she said, “And now he will not let me go; I am nothing more than a prisoner.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> This, at least, produced a frown from the officer. “Is this true?” He said, turning back to Henri.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> Henri shook his head as sorrowfully as he was able. “I regret that it is. I know of no other way to snap her out of these delusions.” A heavy sigh, and then, “As much as I am loathe to put hands on anyone, I am more concerned for her safety than her comfort when she is hallucinating. I can only hope the man we are going to see in Munich can put a stop to it.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> The officer crossed his arms and scrutinized Henri for a moment, then Patrice. He seemed to nod to himself before waving one of his men over, a young man with strong features. The officer put his arm around the solider and the two held a brief whispered exchange. The young man paused for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. The officer clapped him on the shoulder as he moved to stand next to Patrice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “This is Pierre,” he said, indicating the soldier, “He happens to be from Mulhouse - which you will be passing through - and is due for some time off. He will accompany you to the border and see to it that no harm befalls this young woman, by her own hand or that of another.” This last comment was directed squarely at Henri, who - Patrice had to admit - did an excellent job of keeping his thoughts about this unexpected development to himself. Instead, he merely offered the slightest of bows to the soldier. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; text-indent: 36pt; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “Excellent,” said the officer, “I will arrange for him to board the train.” Then, loud enough for everyone in the circle to hear, he said to Pierre, “I look forward to receiving a telegram when you arrive.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; text-indent: 48px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “Yes, sir.” Pierre made a sharp salute.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; text-indent: 48px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; text-indent: 48px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> The officer turned to both Henri and Patrice, bowed informally and said, “I wish you both a safe and … beneficial trip. Good day.” With that, he turned and made his way out of the circle of men. The other soldiers began to fall in behind him, one of their number making his way to Pierre to hand him a stuffed canvas bag, which Patrice assumed were his belongings.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Pierre thanked his comrade, then turned to Henri and Patrice and said, “Do you have any further business here, or shall we return to the train?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> They turned and looked around the platform. The steam had almost completely dissipated and it was clear that the majority of people left on the platform by this point belonged to Henri’s group. Patrice noted with quiet satisfaction that none of the remaining patrons resembled either of the two men her uncle was looking for.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> Georges</span><span style="color: #cccccc; line-height: 1.38;"><span style="font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">stepped forward, “Boss, what about …”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc;"> “We are done here,” snapped her uncle, “Back on the train. If anyone has need of the facilities,” he said, looking at Patrice, “use those provided on the train.”</span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-74a011e6-cf75-f551-349a-75bbf8c6d273" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">==============================================</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “What is it?” Mr. Baine asked, settling into his seat in the first passenger car.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “Excuse me?” said Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “You have a look about you that I've come to recognize, whenever something is on your mind.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “You are quite observant.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “I try.” said Mr. Baine, “So what is it?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “As we waited to board the train, I thought I heard an argument or … something. It was hard to tell over the noise of the train.” Wendell said.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “A distraction? Good.” said Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “You are paranoid.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: Cambria; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Mr. Baine shrugged, “It's served to keep me alive thus far.”</span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Cambria; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Cambria; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> This prompted an eye-roll from Wendell. “Regardless, I hope no one was in serious distress.” He tried to peer back along the platform to see if there were any clues as to what he might have heard. A group of passengers appeared to be taking their time boarding at the back of the train, beyond that, nothing unusual presented itself. A mild shrug and Wendell turned around to settle in for the long train ride ahead.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-13827450161386665882015-12-14T12:58:00.000-05:002015-12-14T13:02:56.373-05:00Untitled: Chapter 10<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #cccccc;">The monotonous drone of the train as it shook and rattled its way down the track was unexpectedly relaxing. Since none of the three other passengers crammed into the small sleeping car - hard-faced men of varying age and social standing - were inclined to interact beyond hostile stares and surreptitious glances, Patrice found herself drifting in and out of sleep.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">During one period of wakefulness, she contemplated the flint-edged scowl that seemed to be etched permanently into the face of her uncle as he sat across from her, regarding the landscape as it spun continuously past the one large window of the sleeping cabin he had purchased for the two of them. The two men he had selected to join them in the cabin, Georges and Claude, sat in bored silence.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Henri had been serious about not letting Patrice out of his sight. They had been sitting in the small room since the train left Paris that morning and, as best she could figure, they would be sharing the cabin as the train traveled through the night - propriety be damned.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Still, she would have a bed. The rest of Henri’s men were occupying a single passenger car, purchased for their exclusive use for the duration of the trip. As far as she could tell, not all of them were aware of their true destination.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Troyes is not more than a day away by train,” she said, as he purchased their tickets earlier that morning, "Why did you get a cabin?"</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“The train will stop in Troyes to fill up on water and coal,” he sniffed, “We will search the station and surrounding area during the stop, as it is likely they'll try to board the train - assuming they have not already boarded one. If we do not find them, we shall continue to Munich and capture them there.” His words were delivered with a barb of irritation, as if he were annoyed at having to explain something so obvious to the girl.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">It was a tone that Patrice was all too familiar with. So much so that she had nearly become deaf to it, not unlike a person living along the banks of a rushing albeit ill-tempered river. The intonation simply held no meaning for her anymore. Her two ‘bodyguards,’ hired hands Henri referred to as Georges and Claude, began to nod as if they had been thinking along the same lines the whole time.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">As Henri stalked over to the train, Patrice heard one of the men flanking her whisper, “Munich? I thought they were fleeing to Troyes.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">"Best not to question the boss,” said the other.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice could not help but roll her eyes in quiet exasperation. This was a large part of the reason her uncle was now the unbearable, self-absorbed creature he had become - no one was ever willing to challenge him, let alone question a decision he made. He was rich, that was true, but the people he surrounded himself with assumed that because he was rich, he must also be right. Whenever that ‘rightness’ was brought into question, Henri often reacted loudly and, under certain circumstances, violently.Patrice resisted the urge to rub her eye; the extra make-up needed to hide the bruise was making her itch.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">I am going to run away.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The thought came to her suddenly as her mind returned to the here and now. She had daydreamed about running away before, certainly, but there was something different about this feeling. There was a finality to it, a sense of resolve that would not - could not - be denied. It was not merely an idea that had occurred to her, or a suggestion; this was a decision already made making itself known.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice weighed her options. Hiding on the train was out of the question, as Henri would simply have his men search each car. The thought of jumping from a moving train was briefly entertained, but a quick glance out the window convinced her that doing so would not only be foolish, but potentially fatal. The train station, then. If the restroom there included a window, she could try climbing out while they waited by the door, though that would likely draw more attention to her than she wanted.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Perhaps, she could try simply blending in the with crowd while they searched for Wendell and Mr. Baine. It occurred to her that if, by some unlikely coincidence, the two men were spotted in Troyes, the ensuing chaos and excitement could be exactly what she needed to escape.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The thought led Patrice into a moment of conflict; could she really hope for their capture if it meant her freedom? She felt like she knew what the correct answer to that question was supposed to be, but could not honestly say she believed it. As the two sides of this invisible conflict vied for control of both her heart and her mind, she glanced over at her uncle. Their eyes met for only the briefest of moments before he once again looked away. The was no love, no hint of compassion in Henri’s venomous gaze; selfish contempt and cruelty were all the man knew.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Within her, the momentum of battle shifted.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">==============================================</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The ticket seller peered down at the small pile of money on his counter. Using a pencil, he gingerly nudged some of it aside to make sure he had not missed any. Satisfied that everything had been counted, he glanced over at one of several papers posted nearby. Across the counter, two men - one of them oddly dressed - studied a map of the various rail lines running through the north-central region of France as he silently ran the calculation in his head. He could already tell that the shorter of the two, a plain-looking man in a bowler, would be unhappy with the answer.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Belfort,” he said at last, drawing their attention.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Belfort?” The men glanced back over at the map, uncertain of just where to look. The bowling hat man made a face, “No further?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Non. I am sorry, but this is what you can afford.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The bowling hat man sighed heavily and looked at his taller companion, who shrugged and said, “We have little choice.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Fine.” said Mr. Baine, nodding at the ticket seller, who slid the money into his palm and began making change. A moment later, he handed back a pair of tickets and a few small coins.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“The train will be here in ten minutes,” the seller said, glancing up at a large clock prominently displayed in the station’s waiting area. “It will be departing an hour later, please make sure you are aboard.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“An hour? Why the delay?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“We are the last station between here and Munich capable of refilling the steam engine. A few of the other towns along the way can offer coal or water, but not both. It is more efficient to fill up here.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Thank you,” said Wendell. As they turned away from the desk to meander around the station, he said to Mr. Baine, “At least we do not have to worry about missing the train.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Mr. Baine made a dismissive noise, “I would rather not be loitering in one place so long; not until we've cleared the shadow of Paris, perhaps even the country itself.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“There are a few shops and vendors around the station, why not take in some of the local flavor until the train arrives?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Mr. Baine jingled the few remaining coins in his palm, “I fear we'll have to content ourselves with merely taking in the local aroma,” he said. Wendell sensed a melancholy undertone in his companion’s words.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Do not worry, my friend,” he said, “Something is bound to turn up - perhaps when we least expect it.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“For us, the unexpected is also often rather unpleasant.” Mr. Baine looked at his ticket and groaned, “Not the first car.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“What is wrong with the first car?”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“It's right behind the coal hopper, with smoke and steam billowing back from the engine. It smells, the scenery will be obscured and ...” Mr. Baine looked around before continuing in a somewhat lower tone, “Everyone knows the first car is where the poor ride.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Wendell shrugged, “We are poor. Besides, some of the best people I know have little or nothing to their name. This could be good for you.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Mr. Baine rolled his eyes. “Let's board as soon as we can, at least. If nothing else, I would like to get my pick of the seats before it fills up.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Or before anyone sees you enter the dreaded ‘first car?’ ”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“I'd rather no one saw us get on this train,” said Mr. Baine, “You never know who is watching.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">===============================================</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">A shiver, accompanied by a gentle lurch, emanated back from the engine, causing each car to clack their couplers against those ahead of them, like the popping of a giant metallic spine.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“We are slowing. Troyes must be near.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The words brought Patrice out of her sullen reverie. The time to act was fast approaching, and she was uncertain of her chances. How would Henri react if she failed to escape? Would anyone at the station - in all of Troyes - be sympathetic to her plight?</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Buildings began to fill the landscape outside their window. They would be pulling into the station shortly. Another moment passed and thick white steam began to obscure their view as the engine began to bleed off the excess and apply the brake.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">As they began to see aspects of the station around them, Patrice realized with a sinking feeling that they were on the opposite side of the car from the platform onto which they would exit; she had no way of scanning the crowd awaiting the train for Wendell and Mr. Baine. It was a small comfort that Henri would be similarly disadvantaged. Perhaps if she could somehow manage to exit the car first …</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The deceleration continued and, Patrice would have sworn, that the passage of time was slowing along with the train; the last few minutes before they pulled into the station made the seconds feel like minutes, minutes like hours. With a final jolt, the train stopped. Billowing clouds of steam belched forth from the hissing engine, drifting the length of the platform.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Where do you think you are going?” said Henri, as Patrice stood and turned towards the door. Claude and Georges jumped to their feet, one to stand in front of the door, the other behind her. Neither man moved to actually grab her, though.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“To stretch my legs, we have been on this train for hours.” she said.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“And let you run off to cause more trouble? I think not.”</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“Am I allowed to use the facilities, at least? Or would you rather we turn this room into a pigsty and wallow in our own filth?” Patrice was surprised at how quickly the anger she felt towards her uncle could flare up.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Outside the door, they could hear the muted knocking and clomping of people filling the central corridor of the car, lining up to exit the train.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Suddenly, there was a hesitant knock at their door. A man’s voice on the other side said, “Boss? The men are ready to start searching.” Claude and Georges turned and joined Patrice in looking at her uncle. She imagined that they were looking forward to getting out of the stuffy cubicle and getting some fresh air themselves.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Lips pursed tightly, her uncle sucked at his cheek and his jaw seemed to roll slightly. Patrice recognized that he was chewing on the inside of his mouth in that annoying manner of his that manifested whenever he was compelled to make a decision sooner than he was comfortable with.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">After a moment, which may as well have been an hour, Henri snorted and said, “Fine,” and to each of the men flanking Patrice turned a piercing stare in turn, “But keep her close.” He did not have to add ‘or else.’</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">They opened the door and made their way out into the cramped hallway. Henri’s men had moved back through the train to the last car and were now crowding the space, waiting for their employer’s instructions, lest they incur his displeasure by presuming incorrectly. The remaining passengers who had not gotten off the train before their arrival were attempting to squeeze out of their rooms and down the hallway past the clot of men who clearly did not belong there.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">A handsome couple, followed by another group of well-dressed women were making their way past the door. Upon seeing Patrice, the man stopped to let the young woman and one of her escorts out into the hallway before them. Once she was past, he continued moving forward. Georges was momentarily trapped in the room with her uncle as the trailing group of women followed them off the train. Patrice's heart leapt within her - even a few short feet between her and Heri was enough to lift her spirits and encourage the thought that escape was possible. </span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“The facilities should be along the wall,” she said to Claude, who had been let out before her, “Do you see them?” The man attempted to peer through the thick clouds of steam to the far side of the platform. As he did so, Patrice scanned the crowd milling about the cars further up the train. It was nearly impossible to make anyone out, certainly not in any great detail.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The steam parted briefly as the locomotive huffed out its final reserve and Patrice happened to catch a flash of distinctive orange fabric peeking out from under a dated traveling cloak in the crowd milling about the lead cars of the train, waiting for the passengers to disembark. Her eyes did their best to avoid going wide, though her stomach had no compunction about dropping into free-fall. They were here. The perfect opportunity to escape had just presented itself on a silver platter.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">The women exiting the train behind Patrice had nearly finished filing off the train. Behind them, Henri and Georges were pressing forward as closely as was socially acceptable. If time had slowed to a crawl before, its pace was now positively glacial. She took a second look towards the front of the train, the crowd of people was still there, still waiting - completely oblivious to what might be happening on the opposite end of the platform.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice took a deep breath of the moist, oily-tasting air ... and ran in the opposite direction.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-29774407714063473092015-12-07T12:30:00.000-05:002015-12-07T12:31:38.389-05:00Untitled: Chapter 9<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“We have a habit of reaching destinations around sundown,” Wendell said, as he wondered the streets of Troyes, “I wonder if there is any significance to that?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Walking beside him, Mr. Baine shrugged and said, “Perhaps, but only to someone determined to find it. An unlikely, displaced holy man, perhaps?” Wendell allowed a brief smile to cross his typically stoic facade. He was in a surprisingly good mood, all things considered. Amazing the difference a day makes, he thought.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The weather had been pleasant and the road clear, allowing the farmer to make good time to the city. Wendell and Mr. Baine purchased some of the the food the man was hauling, primarily vegetables and cheese, and filled their bellies. The time riding in the back of the wagon was spent resting; the companions taking turns trying to catch up on the sleep they had lost the previous night. Wendell attempted to spend his time awake meditating as much as he was able, given their circumstances. The last onset of change in the chaos of the night before had unsettled him more than he cared to admit, and he was determined to remain in control should they find themselves similarly pressed in the future. Still, there were no unfortunate encounters on the road - human or otherwise - and, as far as either of them could tell, they were not being followed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When they finally arrived in Troyes that evening, Wendell felt a measure of refreshment in both body and spirit. Mr. Baine was considerably less grumpy, as well, he noted, which was bound to have helped his own mood. Even the gunshot wound in his shoulder was feeling much improved. The farmer had taken them to a popular open-air market in the city and there they parted ways; he, to stay with relatives who lived in the city, and they to find reasonably-priced room and board for the night.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Due to their dwindling finances, the two men agreed that they should abstain from the comforts of a proper hotel and purchase only the most basic of accommodations. However, the pickings seemed spare in Troyes - at least in the part of the city in which they now found themselves. Wendell began to wonder if they would ever again have the luxury of down comforters and pillows. No, the monk within him spoke up, that was before, you are different now. I don't deserve it anyway, thought Wendell. The beast, for its part, slumbered quietly in the shadows.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sun had nearly finished its westward trek for the day before Mr. Baine stopped abruptly before a nondescript townhouse with a sign in the window. Wendell could not read it, but guessed at what it said.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do they have a room to let?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If I'm reading it correctly, they do,” said Mr. Baine. He glanced over the plain facade, “Dare we enter? I don't imagine this to be the lap of luxury.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It would require a great deal of effort to turn me away from a bed at this point,” said Wendell. Mr. Baine nodded and the pair ascended the steps. The room was sparsely furnished; Wendell reasoned that this was for the best, given how small it was. To both men’s great relief there were two individual-sized beds; a cupboard, a small table and a washstand were also present.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The woman who owned the house, a middle-aged widow, had not expected anyone to show up so late, and thus had no food prepared. Instead, she directed them to a small cafe down the street from where they were staying that could provided them with a warm, affordable meal. It was a mild evening and the two men elected to sit at one of the tables clustered on the sidewalk, watching the stars emerge.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Draining the last of his wine, Mr. Baine sighed contentedly and said, “Barring the events of yesterday evening, this has not been an altogether unpleasant trip.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell glanced around at the other patrons, checking to see if any had turned an ear to what Mr. Baine had said. No one appeared to be paying attention. “Perhaps you can handle the next altercation should we stumble across any more … unfortunates.” he said, careful not to let his voice carry beyond their table.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Unfortunates?” Mr. Baine chuckled at the abstract reference and sat back in his chair thoughtfully, regarding the purple veil that had fallen across the sky and was quickly darkening to a deep blue. After a moment, he sat up. “You know what? I will,” he said, “I have dealt with them before, and I will agree that you have shouldered the burden of dealing with them since we left London.” He picked up a stray crumb from his plate and casually tossed it into his mouth. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell started to protest, to say that he was only picking at his companion, but Mr. Baine cut him off, “No, I mean it. The next one is mine. I've had quite enough opportunity to observe. I need to stay sharp lest I get slow and lazy and become just another helpless layperson. A man who can't defend himself in these strange times, they are the truly 'unfortunate.' ”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I was not trying to imply such a thing.” Wendell said, feeling at turns guilt and fear. The former, for taking a verbal swipe at the man who had been kind enough to travel with him, taking care of their expenses and providing most welcome support in battling and ultimately seeking a cure for his affliction; the later, for encouraging him to stand in harm’s way out of … what? Pride? Guilt? Whatever the reason, it was Wendell who could afford to take the risk, and not Mr. Baine, who still had a future worth living for. After all, if he happened to be bitten, the end result was simply that two monsters would be put down, rather than one. Should Mr. Baine get bitten, however, two monsters would still fall, but a third would remain, wondering aimlessly for a cure that may or may not exist and always seemed to be just out of reach.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They had not known each other very long, but Wendell had to admit that his relationship with Mr. Baine was, by far, the closest thing to a friendship he had experienced since leaving Songshan several years earlier. Wendell had arrived on his doorstep one day, haunted, road-weary and seeking another. Any rational person would have simply turned him away. In fact, Wendell found himself wondering on more than one occasion if he had found Dr. Henry Jekyll, as he had intended, if he would have been given even a minute to explain himself. The man Wendell chanced across instead, Mr. Baine, had not only listened, but taken him in, worked with him in developing a serum to help fight the change, and uncovered the lead in Munich which they now pursued, but was happy to travel with him and cover their expenses out of his own pocket.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell knew Mr. Baine’s had an insatiable curiosity, which accounted for his willingness to undertake this journey. Wendell </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">was</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> a curiosity; a person who had been places, seen things, and suffered a condition - all of which fell well beyond the boundaries of a normal life experience. On some level, though, he could not shake the feeling that his companion was pursuing something else - a destination or goal that he had yet to verbalize. He could also be presumptuous, tactless, and more than a little abrasive if the mood struck him, but did that warrant a challenge that placed the man in harm’s way? Something in Wendell’s expression prompted a smirk from Mr. Baine, spreading across his face like oil over water.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“One does not need the mysterious ways of the Orient or any supernatural </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">gifts</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> - for I maintain that is indeed what they are - to vanquish these creatures.” He raised a hand to stifle the protest for which Wendell had drawn a breath. “Knowledge and preparedness are all a person of reasonable vigor require. And, rest assured, when the time comes, I </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">will</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> be prepared.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I will be there, though, if the situation gets out of hand.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Naturally.”</span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-c5e45fc4-7d7a-28d0-7b64-84516422c0e3" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">===============================================</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They rose early the next morning, before the sun had even begun to crest the horizon. Their host, attempting to make up for her percieved lack of hospitality the night before, prepared a hearty breakfast, which they ate in silence as Mr. Baine poured over a map of France and the surrounding environs. At last the silence was punctuated by a murmur from Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We are still a fair distance from Munich,” he said, “A couple days by train, at least.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Can we afford that?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine inspected his wallet, his mouth pulling down at one end. “Part of it, at any rate,” he said after a moment, “but that will pretty much finish off what little money I have left.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Perhaps we will find someone in need of hired help along the way.” said Wendell, hopefully.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I'm not overly fond of the idea,” said Mr. Baine, “but if we must, we must.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Have faith.” Wendell said. The comment was made off-hand, but caused his companion to sit up and give him an appraising look. As he did so, Wendell noticed a slight bulge under his jacket that he did not remember seeing before.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It strikes me as odd that a person in your position would mention faith.” said Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell glanced around to see if their host was nearby, “My position as a monk or my position as … one afflicted in such a way as I?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine looked thoughtful for a moment. “Both.” he said.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“ 'Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen,' ” Wendell recited. “I have faith that what we seek is out there, somewhere. No faith, no hope; no hope ... no point in taking this journey.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That's not necessarily true,” Mr. Baine shook his head. “I have no idea if there's a cure, but I thought that this was a trip worth taking anyway.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Probably because this journey means something different to you than it does to me.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was Mr. Baine's turn to glance around the kitchen, but their hostess had left the room, "Is that why you're so insistent that your 'condition' is so terrible - you believe it's a punishment for your sins?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I find it hard to believe that the best way to reform a self-absorbed, materialistic fool is to turn him into an uncontrollable killer." Wendell kept his voice low, but his reply came more sharply than he had intended. The question had touched a nerve.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Mysterious ways and all that." replied Mr. Baine in his typical flippant manner. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell took a deep breath before he spoke again, "Not everything that happens is the part of some great plan. The key is to find some higher purpose - a means of drawing good from evil."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"But that's why it's so important to learn all we can about it!" Mr. Baine was no longer joking, "If all we do is find a cure and wipe it out, then all those people you've hurt have suffered in vain. However, if we can study it, subjugate it - turn it into a ... a tool, then it can be used for good." </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I am far from being the only one, you know," said Wendell, "Curing me will not rid the world of ... this illness. Study them."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"No, but you are quite possibly the only one I've ever heard of with as much control over it as you have." Wendell could tell Mr. Baine meant this as a compliment, but it felt to him like a confirmation of his existence as a freak, an odditiy - and a dangerous one at that. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine continued, "Most of the poor souls I've read about either take their own lives in a spectacularly gruesome fashion or succumb to it completely." </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"It has to be ... drastic," Wendell's voice was barely more than a whisper, "Or it will not work." He absent-mindedly rubbed a thumb across a faint series of lines on his wrist, nearly invisible after all this time.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine's mouth dropped open. "Are you ... do you mean to tell me ..." he leaned forward and hissed, "You? The 'unforgivable sin?' "</span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell wavied him back, "Catholic misconception. There is only one 'unforgivable sin,' and that is not it."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Look at you, reading up on the competition."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"You know," said Wendell, "I did have a life prior to training with the monks. The time I spent there changed me, but not in every way. At any rate, I have appreciated your generosity and continue to appreciate your company, but it is because of the people I hurt that I will find a cure, no matter what. Beyond that, who knows?" </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Fair enough.” Mr. Baine shrugged and slumped back in his chair. Once more Wendell found his gaze drawn to the mysterious lump under his coat.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What are you hiding under there?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine looked around conspiratorially and, as their host had yet to reappear, opened his jacket to display a leather holster suspended under his arm by a series of straps that wrapped around his shoulder. The lump was the butt of a pistol sticking out from within. “It is a new style of holster from America. They are outlawing guns in public places, so people have taken to concealing them under their clothing.” He grinned. “I told you I would be prepared.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The pistol was not a surprise, as Wendell had seen Mr. Baine put it into his bag back in London, but he was sure he had not seen the holster before now. Wendell could not help but wonder what other surprises Mr. Baine might have packed without his notice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That will certainly slow one down,” said Wendell, careful to avoid any mention of vampires, “But even that will not be of much help, should you find yourself in close quarters with an 'unfortunate.' ”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine cocked an eyebrow and tugged at one arm of his jacket and then the other, turning his palms upward. The ends of two wooden stakes just barely protruded from his sleeves, ending just below his wrists. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I secured them using some bandages. All I have to do is slide them out like so,” he held his arms together, one above the other, with each hand turned towards the opposite wrist. “I did have to use my saw to shorten them a bit so that the points would not extend past my elbow.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ah, so that explains why it took you so long to get ready this morning. I feared you might have given in to some base desire up there.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine wore a look of puzzlement for a moment, which was quickly overtaken by one of exasperated understanding. “You have a corrupt mind for a monk - or whatever it is you consider yourself,” he said.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It must be the company I am keeping,” Wendell chuckled, “Not bad for an unlikely, displaced holy man, eh?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine rolled his eyes, “Touche.” Making quick work of what food was left on his plate, he said, “Let us finish here and be off - neither time nor trains will wait for any man.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I just hope you do not plan on taking your jacket off. I would hate having to explain why you are walking around with a collection of deadly objects strapped to your person.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I will make it a point to keep it on.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The two men finished their meal, gathered up the few belongings they did not already have on their person, and, upon locating their host, thanked her for her generosity. Mr. Baine showed the woman the map he had been studying and asked where they might find a train heading in the direction of Munich. Walking them to the street, she pointed in the direction they should go. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">With handshake from Mr. Bane and a respectful bow from Wendell, the two men resumed their journey, leaving the woman to wonder at the two curious - albeit polite - gentlemen who had lodged with her for but a single night.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-88763415467340464202015-11-30T19:38:00.001-05:002015-12-02T09:30:14.698-05:00Untitled: Chapter 8<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Patrice was roused from her stupor by a soft knock at the door.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Since Camille’s sudden appearance and second untimely passing in the early morning hours, the house had been in a state of chaos. The police had responded to the disturbance, though not in time to see the two fleeing men, and had a great many questions for everyone. She could not help but feel bad for the house staff as, upon arriving for work, they were each pulled aside and interrogated; none of them had any clue what was going on.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When it was time for Patrice to be questioned, she finally revealed the truth of the previous day; how Camille had dragged Patrice with her to see the vampire, the subsequent attack and her headlong flight through the forest. She talked about the two strangers on the road risking their lives to save her from a vampire, and how they saved her a second time from her own cousin. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Marie and Juliet both sat aghast as she talked. Henri, however, was beyond furious. Several times he interrupted to decry her as a liar and an evil influence on his impressionable daughter. Eventually, he was escorted from the room where his statement could be taken separately.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finally, the questions stopped. The beheaded remains of both Camille and Gaspard the coachman were unceremoniously bundled up and taken for examination and Patrice was left to face her uncle’s wrath.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The three women sat in the study, Patrice, Marie, and Juliet, waiting for Henri to come. Marie sat scrutinizing her niece with an icy stare. She was not overly fond of Juliet or her daughter, but whatever she might have wanted to say, she kept to herself. If any accusations were to be leveled, they would be coming from Henri. Fortunately, she did not have to wait long. The doors to the study opened and Henri stepped inside, his eyes locked on Patrice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: cambria; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I welcomed two killers into my home at your say,” his voice was unnaturally calm, given his flushed complexion, “and now my daughter is dead because of you.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Uncle, I …” Henri silenced her with a hard slap to her cheek. The blow staggered her, but Patrice managed to keep her feet.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No more lies!” he shouted, “Where were they headed? Surely they told you something of their journey? ”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I-I do not know.” Another slap, this one sending the young woman to her knees.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Do you long for the streets? Do you detest the home, the food, and the clothes I have given you so much that you continue to lie? Even after taking Camille from me?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice felt her face grow hot, beyond where she had been struck. She was on the verge of tears, she knew, but refused to give her uncle the satisfaction of making her cry. Instead, she heard a soft whimper from her mother. Juliet sat huddled in her chair, crying and shaking her head. “Just tell him, Patrice, tell him what you know.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Munich,” her voice was nearly a whisper as she struggled to keep the tremor from it, “They are going to Munich. That is all they told me.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Henri said nothing, but seemed to consider her response. After an agonizing moment, he nodded to himself, satisfied that he had gotten the truth from her. In fact, Patrice could have sworn that she could see a tiny gleam of triumph in his beady eyes. He straightened himself and said to her, “You will remain locked in your room until I say otherwise. Cross me at both you and your mother’s peril.” With that, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the study. Patrice could hear him calling for the butler, saying, “I have several telegrams for you to deliver.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once she had been escorted to her room, the excitement, exhaustion, and the strong storm of emotions that she had experienced over the past twenty-four hours finally caught up with Patrice. Alone in her room - her prison - she wept bitterly and uncontrollably until falling into a deep and dreamless sleep.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">================================================</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The first knock woke her up. A second knock at the door, only the slightest bit louder, helped bring her muddled thoughts back into focus. “Yes?” she mumbled, wincing at the pain in her cheek. She dreaded the bruise she knew she would find when she eventually looked in a mirror. Fortunately, it did not seem to be very swollen.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A key turned in the lock and the door squeaked open just enough for Juliet to squeeze in with a tray of food and a damp rag. Patrice could tell she had been crying. When her mother saw the bruise on her face, several large tears traced their way down her already damp cheeks. Marie moved to her bed, setting the tray beside Patrice, and offered her the cool damp rag. Patrice placed on the sorest part of her face, just below her left eye.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What time is it?” she asked her mother.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Almost sundown,” said Juliet, “You have been sleeping for some time, and neither Henri nor Marie felt inclined to raise you for dinner.” A moment of silence passed, during which Patrice could almost feel her mother looking at her black eye. “I am so sorry,” she whispered.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Mother, why do we stay here?” Patrice said, “I would rather we take our chances on the street than live under his tyranny another day.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Juliet shook her head, “You do not know what you are talking about, Patrice. We have no income since your father died, no home, no means of feeding ourselves.” This was a oft-held conversation between the two of them, but to Patrice, something about it felt different this time. She felt different.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">hit</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> me, mother,” Patrice hissed, “Twice, in front of you. And you sat by and watched it happen.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">More tears from Juliet now. “He saw his daughter’s mangled body. Marie saw that man throw her head in the fire - they are devastated. I would be, too, if it were you who had perished.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You are … </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">justifying</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> his actions?” Patrice could not believe her ears.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No, not justifying,” Juliet sighed, “I do not … Henri is just very upset. It will pass. He and Marie will mourn and their pain will subside.” Patrice shook her head in stunned silence as her mother continued, “Even now, he has been talking with his friends and partners. His mood seems much improved since they have arrived.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice was suddenly aware of the din drifting into her room. The boots of men, she could only guess how many, echoed up from downstairs. There was an undercurrent of menace to the noise; it was not pleasant, like a celebration, but certainly louder and more busy than a wake or any sort of memorial gathering. There was a sense of organization to it that unnerved her; Henri’s yelling might have been preferable to what was now taking place below them.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What is happening down there?” she asked.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Henri has been sending and receiving messages since you came upstairs.” Juliet said, “Eventually, a number of men arrived at the house. Some of them I recognize, others I do not. He has been telling them about last night.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Are they armed?” </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Patrice saw her mother pale visibly at the question, “I …”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Mother, do they have weapons?” Patrice looked hard at her mother.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Juliet seemed to shrink under her stare. “Some of them. Yes.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He means to hunt them.” This elicited a small nod from Juliet. Patrice’s anger towards her mother cooled somewhat as she contemplated this newest turn of events, though she made a mental note to finish their conversation later. She began to graze idly over the food on the tray, an action that apparently relieved her mother to some degree. “Does he know where they are?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Juliet shook her head, “Telegrams were sent with descriptions of the men down every major road leading east, but has yet to get a response,” she leaned in towards Patrice, “He hopes to catch them before they cross the border. If he is successful, I think it will go a long way towards calming him.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“They are innocent, mother! Wendell and Mr. Baine have done no wrong.” Patrice could feel her ire returning; perhaps they would finish this conversation sooner rather than later. Juliet sighed irritably in reply, one of the few signs of anger she ever expressed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Patrice, you must admit that your behavior - the stories you keep telling - has made quite a mess of everything. No one knows what is true and what is not.” She stood up, “How can you blame Henri - who has continually provided for us, despite not wanting to - for desiring justice? Who is he to blame?” Downstairs, a bell rang, announcing yet another visitor at the door.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It is not justice he seeks, mother, but revenge,” Patrice stood to face her. “And the person to blame is Camille, though I suppose you could just as easily hold Henri and Marie responsible for raising such a spoiled, little-”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That is enough!” Juliet cut her daughter off, an act that surprised both of them. Had the two women been listening, they might have noticed a change in the tone of the noise being made by the group of men below. “This is not the life I wanted, for any of us - certainly not a life without your father. I am sorry that he died. I am sorry that we could not afford to live on our own. I am sorry that you and Henri do not get along. But this is our life now and I have no means of making things better for either of us. You, on the other hand, seemed determined to make things more difficult for everyone.” Footsteps marked the ascent of someone on the staircase down the hall.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Exactly how have I made things more difficult? By having opinions? By standing up for myself?” Patrice knew she was beginning to venture outside the bounds of rationality, but her pain and anger urged her forward, “Maybe by simply being born? Is that when I started to make things difficult for you mother?” Patrice was shaking, her vision blurred by tears. Her mother was in much the same condition. Juliet had just taken a breath to reply when a sound at the door interrupted them. Standing there with a malicious gleam in his eye, was Henri.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The killers were spotted on the road to Troyes.” He aimed an ugly sneer at Patrice, “Prepare yourself for the road, niece. You are going with us.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Why on earth would you want me underfoot?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I will not risk you sending word ahead to warn them or sneaking around doing God-knows-what while I am out. I am going to keep you right where I can see you. Now get packed, we leave at first-light tomorrow morning. Oh, and if you are thinking of running, several men in my employ have been tasked with keeping watch over the house tonight.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice turned to her mother with an imploring look. Juliet straightened herself, wiped the tears from her eyes and walked out of the room.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "cambria"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-24642470596756686362015-11-23T08:23:00.000-05:002015-12-02T10:30:44.029-05:00Untitled: Chapter 7<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"> The sun rose, warm and cheerful, chasing away the clammy chill and dense fog of the night before. Wendell, waking far sooner than he would have liked, rose to a gentle breeze rustling the leaves in the bushes and trees, birds singing at the arrival of a new day, and Mr. Baine cursing it all.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It can't be morning already,” Mr. Baine grumbled, “I swear we just laid down two hours ago.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We could have slept longer had we stayed in the city.” Wendell yawned, beginning to stretch, stopping short as a hot twinge lanced out from his wound and down his arm. He gently massaged his shoulder in a vain attempt to soothe the pain. It had been a hard trip for him on foot, wounded as he was and fighting off a the second of two changes brought on by the chaos of a single evening, not to mention the general lack of rest he had experienced since their uncertain journey began.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And then for eternity after that when they caught us sleeping and executed us for killing Benoit’s daughter.” Mr. Baine </span></span><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "cambria"; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;">snorted, “No, thank you.”</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: "cambria"; font-size: large; line-height: 1.38; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine stood up, stretching and looking around the grove they had quiet literally stumbled into the night before. He glanced over at Wendell rubbing his arm. The bandage had soaked up some blood in the night.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Let's check on that wound and change the dressing before we hit the road.” Wendell nodded and moved to sit on a nearby fallen log. He glanced about the glade, able to see it clearly for the first time, now that the sun was up and the fog burned away.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The two of them had run nearly the entire distance to the eastern edge of Paris, doing their best to stay out of sight. The thick fog helped immensely, but soon became just as problematic for the pair as they made their way through one of the fields surrounding the city and into a stand of trees which materialized suddenly in the murky darkness. The lack of any discernible moon or starlight resulted in several exceptionally painful collisions with his wounded shoulder in the forest. Once they were safely outside the city, Mr. Baine had set about tending to Wendell’s injury by the light of a small lantern.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The bullet was fired at such close range that it passed right on through,” Mr. Baine had sounded relieved, “You are fortunate it was just below your subclavian artery or this would have required a trip to a hospital, assuming you did not bleed to death before we found one.” Still hurts, Wendell thought to himself.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It took far less time for Mr. Baine to unwrap the bloody bandages, clean the area and dress it once more with fresh bandages in the morning light.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Best not to leave these behind,” he said, stuffing the wad of soiled gauze back into his bag. He stood up and stretched, “Assuming they have finished searching the city and come looking out this way, the last thing we need to do is let them know where we are headed.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rising slowly, Wendell said, “I told Patrice we were going to Munich.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Bugger,” Mr. Baine sighed, “Well, I doubt she would tell her uncle anything. There was definitely some tension between them. And, she was prone to her stories.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“She was scared.” Wendell started to shrug, but quickly suppressed the motion when his shoulder protested, “Fear drives people to irrationality.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Stupidity, you mean,” said Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I hope we haven't made things worse for her." said Wendell, "I would rather we take any blame for last night, and her be spared." </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Noble." Mr. Baine finished packing his bag, "but I'd rather you not say such things."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Why not?"</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Because it very well may come to pass." Mr. Baine stood up and streched, “At any rate, we had best get going and stay ahead of anyone sent to find us. I imagine they'll not travel beyond their own borders. Hopefully we will find breakfast along the way.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The two men began to make their way out of the small stand of trees, one of several sitting like small islands in a gently rolling pasture.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I can go without food, if need be,” said Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“A person recovering from a wound like yours should'nt be skipping meals,” Mr. Baine chided, “besides, not all of us are ascetics here. I happen to be rather fond of my creature comforts.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What is the status of our funds, by the way?” Wendell asked.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Somewhat troubling, but it will get us a little ways yet,” Mr. Baine frowned, “I wish I'd had the presence of mind to search Mr. Gaspard’s pockets before running off last night.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No,” said Wendell, “They may think us murderers, but we are not thieves.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Honor means little to an empty belly,” Mr. Baine replied, “We will need to keep an eye out for income opportunities, then. Say, did you ever learn how to tell the future at your temple? Perhaps we could sell fortunes.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I have heard stories of senior monks were said to be so enlightened as to be clairvoyant, but they would never use such an ability for profit.” Wendell replied, “It is not an ability I possess at any rate.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Your average rustic isn't going to know the difference,” Mr. Baine said.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Out of the question,” said Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, Fine. You're too white anyway. No one would buy into it.” Mr. Baine waived the matter off with his typical irreverent sense of humor, despite his disappointment. In their short time on the road together, he had learned that once Wendell made up his mind about something, he was unlikely to change it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The pair arrived at a fence; a road lie on the other side. Mr. Baine climbed over while Wendell opted to bend low and step between the rails, taking special care to avoid bumping his shoulder. They began to follow the road south and east, away from Paris. They walked, side-by-side, in silence, each lost in his own thoughts. Wendell found himself glancing back over his shoulder at regular intervals, fearing at any moment to find an angry mob riding them down.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What are you doing?” Mr. Baine asked, when the repetitive movement had caught his attention.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“If someone is after us - as is quite likely - I would like to have a bit of forewarning.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“With your gifts, I am sure you would detect a horse galloping down the road well before we saw it.” said Mr. Baine, “Besides, you look guilty of something when you do that. We can hardly expect favors from a stranger if we carry ourselves like a couple of escaped convicts.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I feel guilty.” Wendell’s voice was so low that Mr. Baine wondered if he had meant to speak out loud at all.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Of what?” Mr. Baine snorted, “Protecting people from themselves? Fighting the spread of an undead epidemic?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell did not reply.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Are you talking about Gaspard? That had to be done.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell shook his head. “As unsettling as that was, no.” He sighed, “Last night, I very nearly lost control. I wanted to hurt - maybe even kill ...” He decided not to mention how close Mr. Baine had come to being among the bodies littering Henri Clotaire's townhouse.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You'd just been shot. It's only natural to want to hurt your attacker.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I do not think I would have stopped at Henri.” Wendell’s words hung in the air between them.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“But ... that's why you spent all that time in the far east, right? Learning how to control it?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell made a lop-sided shrug, “I do not know if it can be controlled, not completely. Guided, more like.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Or aimed.” There was a thoughtfulness in Mr. Baine’s tone that made Wendell uncomfortable.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It is </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">not</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> a gift,” Wendell spoke calmly but emphatically. A grunt was his only reply, as it seemed that his companion was now lost in thought.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">===============================================</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They walked in silence for a long time. Occasionally, a rider or two would pass them headed in the direction of Paris, but none came up from behind. Wendell’s clothes attracted a few stares, but no one seemed overly interested in the pair. Currently, the only sounds accompanying them were the birds inhabiting the trees and bushes along the road, the crunch of gravel beneath their shoes and the increasingly insistent growls in their bellies. At the very least, Wendell thought to himself, the hunger helped to take his mind off the dull ache that throbbed in his shoulder at every step.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The sun had not quite reached its zenith when, upon cresting a hill, the pair spied a horse-drawn cart approaching an intersection ahead of them. The lone driver, a middle-aged farmer, if Wendell was any judge, glanced at the pair approaching the intersection but, as they were still some distance away, proceeded to guide his horses into a right turn.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“He's going the same direction …” Mr. Baine suddenly broke into a run. When he had covered half the distance between himself and the wagon, be began to call out to the driver, “Excusez-moi! Excusez-moi! Bonjour!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell watched as Mr. Baine caught up to the wagon and attempted to converse with the man. He noticed Mr. Baine gesture to himself and back to Wendell, who continued towards them at a casual pace, and then down the road they were all traveling; Mr. Baine was using his elementary grasp of the language to ask for a ride. It was contrary to Wendell’s nature to impose on anyone if it could be helped, but after an exhausting couple of days on the road - and now, possibly, on the run - he could not help but hope that the stranger might be moved to kindness towards a pair of road-weary travelers far from home.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The man turned to scrutinize Wendell as he drew near. He wore an expression of puzzled apprehension as he took in the orange robes and shaved head; His eyes narrowed just the slightest bit as he noticed the small circular hole and the bandage underneath. Wendell started rubbing absentmindedly at his shoulder as he did his best to project what he hoped was a non-threatening appearance.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Bonjour.” Wendell didn’t speak French, but at least he could say that.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The man sat in contemplation for a barely a minute; to the two men standing awkwardly below it felt like an eternity. Finally he nodded and said, “Troyes.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oui, oui. Excellent, merci.” Mr. Baine was visibly relieved. Mr. Baine turned to him and said, “There is just enough room on the back for the two of us to stretch out. I told him we would stay back there and help protect the wagon, should the need arise.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Let us hope it does not,” Wendell replied. As he turned to make his way to the rear of the wagon, an odor emanating from under the tarpaulin pulled across the various barrels, boxes, and baskets loaded on it. Both his stomach and his spirits performed a somersault in response. “Mr. Baine,” he said, “I smell food.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine drew a small purse from his jacket and walked back over to the driver. He jingled it, instantly catching the man’s attention, and pointed at some of the covered lumps just behind him.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The man smiled. Now they were speaking the same language.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-35909985827301433972015-11-16T08:10:00.000-05:002015-11-16T08:10:07.205-05:00Untitled: Chapter 6<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">They had barely gotten a block when the commotion began; shouts at first and then a police whistle, thin and shrill in the night, which resulted in a handful of whistles at various distances around them. The police had been notified.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I knew it was coming,” said Wendell, “But I had hoped to be further along.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It won't take long for them to converge.” said Mr. Baine, “Our chances of escaping the city are dwindling.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The two men turned down an alley and emerged into what felt like a large open space, though neither of them could be certain in the gloom. Creeping forward, they encountered a large wall, running off to either side of them. A row of dark windows peered at them from just above their heads, all locked, as was the solitary door they found nearby. Set into the bottom of the wall, several low openings yawned at them behind rows of iron grates. Wendell tugged at several of the bars to see if they would give, but they refused to budge. The action resulted in a hot spike of pain radiating down from his wounded shoulder into his arm.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Somewhere to their left, a horse entered the area and clopped slowly towards them.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not good,” whispered Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A gentle creak down and to their right caused both men to jump; one of the grates had swung open. Wendell looked at Mr. Baine, who shrugged and made for the hole. Bent nearly double, Wendell followed his companion through the opening and stepped gingerly down into a large cluttered cellar, careful not to use his arm any more than necessary. He reached up and shut the grate as quickly and as quietly as he was able. One breathless moment later, the horse and its unseen rider made their way past the opening, against which the two men had flattened themselves, one on either side.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How long do you think we should hide?” Wendell whispered.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The longer we stay still, the harder it will be to get out of the city,” said Mr. Baine, “But without knowing our way around, we are almost certain to be caught.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Quite the predicament, yes?” A man's voice floated to them out of the darkness. His wound forgotten, Wendell immediately crouched into a fighting stance, ready to spring; Mr. Baine drew a sharpened stake from his bag and brandished it at the darkness surrounding them. A musical laugh was their reply.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You look ready to hop, Mr. Grasshopper,” said the voice – Wendell felt as though he had been addressed, “And you, Mr. Scorpion, have a stinger, albeit a primitive one.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What do you want with us?” said Mr. Baine to the empty air.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You are running from the authorities, yes?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“There was a … misunderstanding.” said Wendell. He kicked himself mentally for the lame explanation. He was suddenly very aware of the damp circle of fabric over his shoulder and hoped that the blood soaking his robes was not visible in the darkness.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Oh, I know all about misunderstandings.” said the voice.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Leaning towards Wendell, Mr. Baine whispered, “Where is he?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I cannot locate him,” said Wendell, “He is using some sort of trickery with his voice – pipes in the walls maybe.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This prompted a laugh that seemed to bounce around them.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Where are you?” said Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Why, Mr. Grasshopper, you cannot locate me because I am everywhere. There are no secrets in my house except mine own.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And on whom do we have the pleasure of calling?” said Mr. Baine, with insincere formality.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Call me Erik,” came the reply.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We are in your debt, Erik,” said Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Indeed you are,” said Erik, “But it is not safe to talk here. Go to the far corner of the cellar, there you will find stairs leading down. I will wait for you at the bottom.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell looked at Mr. Baine; a shrug was his only reply.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The two men began to wind their way through a maze of crates and stacks of lumber. There were sheets of wood cut to look like trees and streetlights and ocean waves, then ornate furniture, cans of paint and long rolls of cloth. Wendell brushed past a rack of gaudy dresses, followed by shelves lined with armor from various periods of history and a barrel stuffed full of blunt swords.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rounding a pile of paper mache rocks, Wendell and Mr. Baine found themselves facing set of flat wooden pyramids and palm trees leaning against the wall. Using his good arm, Wendell shifted them to the side and uncovered a large trapdoor. He unbolted it and pulled it open; the men could just barely make out a set of stone steps leading down into a darkness even deeper than the one which they stood.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Join me below,” said the voice, “and we shall decide your fate.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I don't like the sound of that,” said Mr. Baine, “We have no idea what is waiting for us down there.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Can it be worse than what is waiting for us outside?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Absolutely it can.” said Mr. Baine, “A pack of starving vampires, for example.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">From somewhere in the shadows, Erik laughed. “I have seen people die on the stage,” he said, “but so far, none have yet returned. If you please, gentlemen, voices tend to carry down here.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I agree that this is unusual,“ said Wendell, “but we have no reason to assume he means us harm. He did let us in here. And he is clearly not a vampire, so if there are some down there, he would not meet us there.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Your friend speaks the truth. Come.” Erik's voice drifted up to them, this time very clearly from below. Wendell could not help but think this was intentional.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine, to his credit, bit his tongue. Wendell could tell he wanted to say something – a sharp retort, most likely - but the mysterious Erik seemed to hear even their whispers. Instead, he open his bag and exchanged the wooden stake for a pistol; he also withdrew a candle which he lit. To Wendell's surprise, Mr. Baine hannded him the bag.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I can't carry all three,” he said, indicating the candle in one hand and the pistol in the other.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You would not risk me holding it before.” said Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Just set it down if you start to get … wound up.” said Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If Erik heard this exchange, he made no comment. Instead, once they began to descend the stairs, he said, “Mr. Scorpion has improved his stinger. Was it you stung the grasshopper?” Wendell felt himself blush in the darkness.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“No,” said Mr. Baine, “and why do you keep calling us that?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Why?” said Erik, “There is no 'why.' Simply what is.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Come now,” said Mr. Baine, “There is always a 'why.' You studied this nonsense in the Orient,” he said, turning to Wendell, “tell him - everything happens for a reason.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell openend his mouth to reply and felt a familiar mix of emotion wash over him – sadness, loss, fear, anger, dispair, shame, guilt … but what he did not feel - hadn't felt for a long time, in fact - was a deeper purpose to give it all meaning.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I … am not sure what I believe these days. But I do know that a cause is not necessarily the same thing as a reason.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Semantics.” sniffed Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Preferring not to continue the discussion, Wendell addressed the darkness, “I forgot to shut the trapdoor behind us.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Worry not,” said Erik, “No one dares tresspass here.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “They fear you so?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It is in the nature of man to fear the unknown,” said Erik, “and I am unknowable.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Mmm.” said Mr. Baine in a way that Wendell had some to recognize as a sign that his companion definitely had something to say on the matter, but was working very diligently to keep to himself. Thankfully, the two of them had arrived at the bottom of the stone stairway and Mr. Baine was now preoccupied with trying to make out his surroundings using the light of his solitary candle which flickered defiantly against a darkness so deep Wendell could feel it pressing in around him like cool velvet.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The floor on which they stood was stone. The room itself was dry, but there was an earthy dampness wafting up from somewhere ahead that was almost tangible – they were close to water. At the edges of the candlelight on either side of them, they could see rows of barrels stretching away into the darkness. The bare walls would not have been visible to Mr. Baine, but Wendell had no trouble making them out.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Can you smell him?” said Mr. Baine in a whisper, “Probably hiding among these barrels ...” He crept silently to the nearest row, peering into the darkness, his pistol at the ready.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell took a deep breath and froze. Suddenly, he leapt across to Mr. Baine and, before his companion could react, blew out the candle.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What the devil are you doing?” said Mr. Baine. “Not all of us can see in the dark!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Black powder,” said Wendell, “In the barrels.” Mr. Baine went silent.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Interesting.” said Erik.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What are you planning to blow up?” said Mr. Baine, no longer making any attempt to mince words, “Assuming all of these barrels are full of the same thing – that is far more gunpowder than you need to deal with the likes of us.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Indeed.” came the reply, “This is for a grand finale of sorts. I am something of a composer, you see, and have very nearly completed my masterpiece. But now that you have seen what I have planned, I fear you will ruin the surprise.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell, who had not minded the evening chill nor the cool humidity of the subterranean room suddenly went cold. “You never intended to let us go, did you?” he said.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That remains to be seen,” said Erik, “If I were to show you a safe egress from the city, what would you do?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It's none of your concern,” said Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It is if you decide to ruin my surprise by running to the authorities.” came the reply.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> “We simply want to leave and continue our journey East, nothing more.” said Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell put a hand on his companion's arm, as much as he wanted to be out of the city, his conscience would not allow him to ignore Erik's machinations below the city, “If he intends to harm innocents, we are obligated to do something.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I have no intention of hurting anyone” said Erik, “In fact, the reason I have stored the barrels down here is so that they can be quickly washed away, should the need arise. There is a small lake down here that has more than enough water to neutralize the powder.“</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Will you give your word?” asked Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I will, if you will,” said Erik, “Leave the city and say nothing of what you witnessed here.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Done.” said Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It is the grasshopper's word I want.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The silence which surrounded the monk betrayed nothing of the turmoil that roiled up within him. His heart felt like a ship on a stormy sea, rocking to and fro, ready to tip over at any moment into one swell of emotion or another. If they left Paris and this lunatic killed even a single person, it would be his fault. If they tried to apprehend Erik, there was a very good chance that someone would die – Erik, Mr. Baine, possibly all three of them - blown to pieces. As desperate as he was to cure his condition, suicide was not yet an option. As far as he knew, though, Erik had not lied to them – though he seemed like someone to whom truth was a subjective matter. Was it fair to assume Erik would break his word because he was …. what – eccentric? Weird? 'Unhinged' did not necessarily mean 'evil,' but what if this man was unable to tell the difference?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well?” Erik's voice brought the runaway train of Wendell's thoughts to a screeching halt.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Dear God, he thought, please let this be the right decision. “We will leave the city.” Beside him, Mr. Baine exhaled. "But, if news of an explosion in the bowels of Paris reaches me, I will return for you."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Silence. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell didn't need enhanced vision to know that Mr. Baine was giving him a look. He could practically hear it - a look that said 'You're going to get us killed!'</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finally, Erik said, "No such news shall reach you." Wendell found himself analyzing the reply, looking for a loophole in the words that had been selected. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After another tense moment of silence, Erik continued, “You have given your word, but grudgingly. I will now let you choose your fate – choose correctly, and your word is good and you go free; choose poorly, and I will know you were untrustworthy.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Because we'll be dead, right?” said Mr. Baine.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“By that point, it will not matter.” said Erik. “Now, there two paths at the end of this chamber; one leads to the forest, one leads to the river. Which will you choose?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“How is this supposed to prove anything?” asked Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Let's choose and be done with it,” said Mr. Baine, “I'm sick of these games. I'll see us out of here one way or another.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Choose.” said Erik.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Since we came from a forest into the city, I suppose we should follow a river out?” said Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A brief pause, and Erik said, “At the end of this chamber are two arches. Go through the right arch at and follow it to the edge of the lake. Follow the edge of the lake until you reach the river's head, the river passes through the sewers of Paris and merges with the Seine, which you can then follow out of the city.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Was that the correct choice?" Mr. Baine asked. There was no reply.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell took Mr. Baine by the arm and led him out of the chamber, following the instructions Erik provided. As they walked, the scent of gun powder dwindled until it was barely noticable in the increasing odor of stagnant ground water.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I think we are safely away from the barrels.” said Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“About time,” said Mr. Baine, re-lighting the candle, “do you think we're walking into a trap?”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell shrugged and said, “We are definitely headed towards water.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They continued walking, taking care to follow Erik's directions lest they loose themselves in the maze of tunnels and subterranean chambers which seemed to meander below Paris. The floor began to slope down until at last the it ran into the still black waters of the swamp upon which the city was built. Off to the side, the muddy bank of the lake curved out into the darkness beyond the range of Mr. Baine's candle. Thick stone columns stood a random intervals, still and pale in the darkness, supporting the massive edifice overhead.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Skirting the lake by means of a narrow stone ledge, the two men walked until a tunnel branched off to the right, away from the main body of water. The fluid below them did not run so much as it oozed away from the lake and into the tunnel. Turning to follow the passage, Wendell noticed that the darkness lessened here and there where grates opened to the streets above them; tendrils of fog seeping lazily down to probe the pitch black veins of the city.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Finally, after what felt like an hour of walking, the pair rounded a corner to find a large circular opening. Stepping out onto the bank of the Seine, Wendell took a deep breath. Despite the runoff from the sewer and the general smell of the city hanging over the river, he found it refreshing. They were finally out of the sewers and nearly free of the city, at that.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You know,” said Mr. Baine, breaking the silence, “I can't help but think that we narrowly avoided disaster back there.”</span></span></div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-f4cdff9d-0cdc-ec9d-a8c3-b01ad4f59968"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A grunt was all Wendell offered in reply. He was suddenly aware of how tired and sore he was, and could think of little else beyond finding a safe, quiet place to get some sleep.</span></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-30099989001528085662015-11-10T08:10:00.002-05:002015-11-10T08:13:16.225-05:00Untitled: Chapter 5<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">Several endless minutes passed before Wendell removed his hand and leaned over to whisper gently in Patrice’s ear. “He is done cutting, but you may wish to keep your eyes hidden until we dispose of the body.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice took a long, slow breath and shook her head, “Non, I must see this, no matter how unbearable the sight.” She opened her eyes and beheld Mr. Baine standing at the foot of her bed where the creature fell, holding its severed head by the hair. Its face retained the same blank eyes, the same incoherent mask of rage, as the moment that the stake had punctured its heart. Wendell watched the young woman, who, in turn, was studying the contorted face of what was once her cousin. She seemed to nod, just the slightest bit.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You were right to drive the stake.” she lowered her eyes, “That was not my cousin.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I have heard it said that these creatures can enthrall loved ones and family members,” Wendell offered, “Perhaps you were under a similar spell,” Mr. Baine snorted derisively, though not as pointedly as he might have earlier, and turned to the fireplace. With an almost casual flick of the wrist, he tossed the head among the crackling, dancing flames. As it performed a lazy turn through the air, a horrified shriek caused all three individuals in the room to jump and turn, as one, to face the doorway. There, eyes bulging and trembling hands framing a mouth that quivered with the effort of trying to adequately display the depth of the shock, fear, and anger that churned within her at the sight of her daughter’s head being thrown on the fire, stood Marie Benoite.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Madam, let me explain …” Mr. Baine held his hands up in what he hoped was a placating gesture. Her eyes locked on the bonesaw he still held, slick with gore and glistening in the firelight. A jerky shaking of the head and the hiss of breath inhaled through gritted teeth was her reply. She opened her mouth and Wendell suddenly felt a sinking sensation within.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“HENRI!” The yell rolled through the room and out into the hallway. “Henri! Ils l'ont tuée! Ils ont tué Camille!” Marie turned and fled down the hall.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Marie, non!” Patrice leapt to her feet, and moved to follow her, “Messieurs, you must flee! They do not understand.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">A banging of doors echoed down the hallway.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You must tell them the truth.” Mr. Baine had already packed his bag and was making for the door, Wendell close behind, “Before your lies get us all killed!” </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He pushed past her, stepping into the hallway. A shot rang out and a cloud of splinters exploded just above his head. Mr. Baine fell back into the room and would have lost his feet, had Wendell not been there to catch him. There was a faint clicking noise in the darkness of the hallway; the sound of a breach being loaded and a bolt sliding home. Wendell and Mr. Baine looked up to see the long, slender barrel of a chassepot extend into the room, followed by a panic-stricken Henri Benoite. Behind him, Marie was sobbing incoherently. Her trembling outstretched hand, pointing at the headless, bloody corpse on the floor, made it very clear what she was trying to say. Henri’s eyes locked on the vandalized remains of his only daughter, his face flushed a deep red and his jowls began to quake. Wendell would not have thought it possible, but the sinking feeling in his gut extended even further.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Lui! Lui!" Marie was pointing now at Mr. Baine; Henri adjusted his aim accordingly. Patrice rushed over to her uncle and tried to wrest the gun away from him. Henri resisted easily and knocked her to the floor with his elbow. He raised the weapon in time to see an orange blur descending upon him and fired.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The thunderous report of the discharging rifle filled the room, nearly deafening them all. Wendell landed, half shoving, half striking Henri in the chest with both hands. The man suddenly flew back out of the room and down the hallway a good distance, where he landed in a heap. Wendell suddenly became aware of a hot red sensation in his left shoulder, gradually spreading across his chest and down his left arm. He was dimly aware of a bestial roar mingled with the ringing in his ears. It took him a moment to realize that the noise was spilling fourth from his own throat. He closed his mouth abruptly and looked down at his shaking hands. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His fingernails had become unnaturally long and thick. Fine grey hair sprouted from the backs of his hands and his palms had taken on a dark tinge and leathery texture. Despite the heat of the fire, the burning sensation in his shoulder, and the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a powerful shiver ran the length of the tall man’s frame. He drew a deep breath in through his nostrils, relishing the spectrum of odor that had been invisible to him moments before. He felt powerful and alive. And angry.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Down the hall, Henri raised himself up on his elbows and stared at the man incredulously. There were tears in the robe he wore where he had been struck. Despite the darkness of the hallway, Wendell could see everything in sharp contrast - as if he were standing right next to the man on a sunny day. Wendell looked up to see both Patrice and Marie staring at him in shock and, in the latter instance, sheer horror, and he knew that the eyes through which he looked were no longer his own. He wanted to say something, offer some reassurance, but a quick pass of his tongue over a set of elongated canines brought the realization that he should probably keep his mouth shut. Still, perhaps a little scare would do them all some good. Or maybe he should just gut these selfish, cowardly weaklings right now ...</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Wendell! The balcony!” Mr. Baine’s sharp tone snapped his mind back into focus. Instead of lunging at his attacker - at anyone, really - as he felt a powerful inclination to do, Wendell attempted to regulate his breathing and calm the urge burning within him to retaliate, to establish dominance over these powerless creatures who looked at him with fear and hate. It was only natural ...</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Wendell, come on!” Mr. Baine was already outside. Wendell shook his head, trying to clear it of the stubborn, growling thoughts that persisted within and headed out the door through which Camille had entered only a short while before. Mr. Baine swung a leg over the marble balustrade and leaned over to see if he could safely make the climb down. He was relieved to find a trellis decorating the side of the house. Mr. Baine began to climb down one-handed, carefully holding his leather bag in his free hand.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Throw me the bag!” Mr. Baine was startled to hear Wendell’s voice from below. He looked down to the see the man standing on the ground, clawed hands outstretched. He shook his head.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You'll rip it to shreds with those paws of yours,” he grunted, “Run ahead to Mr. Gaspard, help get the coach ready.” Wendell nodded and ran around the side of the house. He noticed lights in the windows of several nearby homes. Apparently the gunfire had woken some of the neighbors. Soon the constables would arrive; the prospect of getting away unhindered and - more importantly - unharmed were rapidly deminishing. The carriage was easily visible to him in the deep shadows behind the house. Mr. Gaspard, still asleep inside, had apparently not been undisturbed by all the commotion.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell ran to the door and, careful not to apply too much force, opened it. From the darkness within, a large form dropped onto him. Without thinking, Wendell quickly spun out of the way and assumed a fighting stance, claws at the ready. The still form of Mr. Gaspard crumpled to the ground. The coachman’s sightless, glazed eyes stared unseeing into the night; his neck a bloody mess. The smell of leaves, wet dirt, and blood mingled with a hint of perfume - easily recognizable in Wendell’s present state - still wreathed the lifeless body.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine rounded the corner and hurried over to where Wendell stood staring down at Mr. Gaspard’s corpse. It did not take him long to assess the situation. “Camille,” it was less a question than a statement. Wendell nodded.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You have to rip his head off.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What!?” </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine expelled a frustrated sigh, “The saw takes too long. Henri will be out here shooting at us any minute - not to mention the Parisian authorities who are no doubt already on their way. He's obviously been bitten and we can't let him turn. I would do it myself but I'm</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">not the one with the supernatural strength here.” Wendell thought he heard a slight tinge of jealousy.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cursing silently then offering up a small prayer of forgiveness, Wendell bent down to take the head of the former Mr. Gaspard in his hands. With a twist, a grunt, and a sickening pop, it came free. Though it only took a moment, the act felt to Wendell like it had taken an eternity. Nauseous, he dropped the man’s head to the ground where it landed on its ragged neck with a wet splat.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Here,” Mr. Baine stepped forward, syringe in hand, “Take another half-dose, just to be safe. I'll treat that wound - thank you, by the way - when we are safe.” </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Is it safe ... to have this much?" Wendell asked.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Safer than you running amok in Paris, I'd imagine."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell nodded dumbly and Mr. Baine proceeded. Amid the pain of the gunshot wound and the numbness at what he had just done, the pricking of the needle barely registered. He did notice, however, that the urge to disembowl the man standing before him - to show him what those 'paws of his' could really do - was fading. What had been a thundering rumble churning within in his gut, was now the hollow wail of a dying breeze over a rocky outcrop. </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-a35b16a5-f182-3a9b-9660-b3c8e8194e84"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Alright,” Mr. Baine replaced the syringe and buckled his bag, “Time to go.” With that, the two men disappeared into the heavy early-morning mist.</span></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-83809499369872483882015-11-02T10:27:00.000-05:002015-11-02T10:27:16.397-05:00Untitled: Chapter 4<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The bedroom was cast in a soft orange glow by the light of a fire set to ward off the chill of the damp spring night . Patrice lay awake in her room, staring up at the canopy of her bed and watching shadows undulate erratically. No, not her bed, this was her uncle’s house. It was </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">his</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> bed, </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">his</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> room. A log in the fire place popped and sizzled as it was consumed - </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">his</span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> fire, she amended bitterly. Patrice turned her hands up towards the fireplace; the heat on her palms pleasant and calming even at this distance. In the light of the fire she inspected her fingers and noticed some dirt lodged under a fingernail. Picking at it, it was impossible not to think of how it had gotten there. Once again, her thoughts progressed through the evening’s events, eventually lingering on the conversation with her family and explanations she had given for her ragged appearance and Camille’s disappearance.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">While Wendell and Mr. Baine waited in the kitchen, filling their bellies, Henri and Marie had interrogated Patrice in the study as her mother sat in anxious silence nearby. She told them that she and Camille had gone horseback riding in the forest, eventually running into one of Camille’s many suitors - she could not remember which one, they all looked alike - who also happened to be out for a ride; riding off with the man, she likely would not return until tomorrow. Left alone in the forest, Patrice was easy prey for an unscrupulous highwayman who feigned distress in order to draw her close and steal the horse she was riding. Afraid she would be run down and further victimized on the road, Patrice explained how she had set off through the forest in order to escape the bandit, eventually running into the two men who accompanied her safely home. No one thought to interrogate Wendell or Mr. Baine, who, to their credit, had nothing to offer on the subject of vampires.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice prayed this fabrication would satiate her uncle’s suspicious nature. Henri had only taken his half-sister and niece in out of a begrudging obligation to the blood they shared, a fact that he had no qualms pointing out when he was in a foul mood, which was often. The source of his anger was often Camille, though he would never admit it. Nor could he admit to his daughter’s reckless behavior.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was Camille’s idea to see the vampire. She was the one who found out about it and begged Patrice to go along with her. Camille was the one who approached the creature, leaving her cousin to tremble in silent terror in the bushes, and it was Camille whose throat was torn out for her foolishness. But none of that would matter - it would be Patrice who would bear the blame, and for that, she and her mother could very well find themselves on the streets.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Tomorrow, she would search for her cousin’s remains. Hopefully, they would have been disturbed by some wild animal; the tragedy could be explained as an accident, a chance encounter with a wild animal, and Patrice and her mother would be safe from Henri’s wrath. Could they accept such a story? Would they? </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A flower of guilt blossomed within her. How could she be thinking such terrible thoughts? Her cousin was dead! Maybe things would have been better if she had been the one to fall to the creature and not her cousin … Hot tears had begun to well in her eyes when a soft tapping drew her attention to a set of casement doors leading out to a second-floor balcony on the side of the house.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice rose and slowly made her way to the doors, her breath held fast within her as she spied a set of dark blotchy fingerprints smeared on the glass. She leaned close to the pane to get a better look. A figure staggered out of the gloom to stand unsteadily before the door, eliciting a startled squeak from Patrice and causing her to jump back in alarm. It was a young woman, splattered with mud and leaves. Her neck was a ruined mess, with blood staining her once-fine dress. The blood extended up past her chin and gave Patrice the ridiculous impression that she possessed a slick red beard. Vacant eyes, half hidden by a mess of blonde curls, stared around the room, finally landing on Patrice in whom recognition finally dawned.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Camille!?” she whispered as loud as she dared, “Vous êtes vivant!”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The girl placed a pale, muddy hand on one of the glass panes of the door, “P’trsss … ” A spark of hope kindled within Patrice and warmed her in way that the fireplace could not. She reached down and unlocked the door. On the other side of the door, Camille’s hand slowly followed hers, sliding down past the lock to rest on the handle. The pale figure paused and cocked its head slightly, as if trying to remember what was supposed to happen next. The weight of the hand was enough to turn the knob and open the door, allowing it to swing silently inward on well-oiled hinges. Patrice felt a rush of cool damp air wash over her, carrying with it the scent of damp leaves, mud, and perfume.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Camille staggered soundlessly into the room.</span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-15b9dac0-c47b-9e3c-dfed-f54e79f91ed9" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">=================================================</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Your turn, mate.” Mr. Baine shook his companion awake. Wendell yawned and stretched, his lean arms and legs protruding from the sides of the modestly sized guest-bed. He slowly rolled into a sitting position and stood up to look over at Mr. Baine, who was already lying on the matching bed against the far wall, his bowler pulled down over his eyes.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“At least take your shoes off.” Wendell chided.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Fine,” Mr. Baine grumbled. He kicked off his boots and rolled to face the wall, "The house is dead quiet, do really think this is necessary? Can't imagine one of them tracking her through a city like this. I'm alive and I'll be buggered if I have a clue where we are." </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Not tracking, remembering" said Wendell, "Or using her memories, rather. This was her home."</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I'm sure it will make for some stimulating hypothesizing in the morning," Mr. Baine rolled over to face the wall. "G'night." The soft snores of his companion following him out of the room, Wendell gently pulled the door closed and began to stroll quietly down the hallway.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everyone was in bed, the only light by which to see being the single hazy streetlight out front and what little firelight made its way from under the closed bedroom doors. Still, Wendell had more than enough light to successfully navigate the house. He paused by each door in the hall and, hearing nothing, proceeded downstairs. Entering the kitchen, his nose picked up the rich scents of a stocked pantry and, for a moment, was sorely tempted to collect some food for the journey ahead. Not mine, he reminded himself. I am a guest here. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Wendell walked to the window and glanced out toward the stable behind the house; Mr. Gaspard had opted to stay there with his horses and carriage. He could not help but wonder if the circumspect coachman had any other earthly possessions - not that living a life of simplicity was a bad thing, he reminded himself, shifting his focus to the window and the reflection of a man with a shaved head and orange robes therein.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eventually returning to the upper floor, Wendell thought he heard a hushed whisper further down the hallway. Creeping ahead one light step at a time, he cocked his head to get a bearing on the source. His search ended before a door at the end of the hallway.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pressing his ear to the door, Wendell’s sharp hearing easily identified Patrice’s voice, hushed and worried, on the other side. Unfortunately, because she was speaking French, he had no clue what she was saying. Her voice was raising sightly at the end of each comment - it sounded as though she were asking questions. There were pauses, Wendell assumed she was waiting for answers, but none came. A few more questions, each followed by a moment of silence. Her speaking sounded too direct and too involved for her to be carrying on a conversation with herself. But who could she be talking to? One more question, this time eliciting a response from her unknown guest - that of a low guttural hiss. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell started to open the door, only to find that it had been locked. He started to call out to Patrice, to have her open it, but was interrupted by a stifled scream from within. Hopping back quickly, he stepped forward, raising his knee and snapping his foot forward to plant the ball of his foot on the door just below the knob in a solid front kick. The jamb gave easily before his advance and he followed his momentum into the room.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice lay on the floor of her bedroom with another figure on top of her, that of a young woman of roughly the same age. The stranger was sitting on top of Patrice, pinning her to the floor. Twigs and leaves were caught in the tangles of her dark blond curls and her fine dress was nearly covered in mud. One hand, at once delicate and dirty, had both of Patrice’s hands pinned easily above her head while the other one, placed over her mouth, was holding her head sideways against the floor. The intruder had her mouth open and was leaning in towards Patrice’s neck. At the sudden appearance of Wendell, she jerked up and bared her teeth - a predator warning him off of its prey. Wendell realized that, deep within, the chains of will had suddenly been pulled tight; this was a challenge the beast yearned to answer. Not yet. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The girl - no, not a girl, he reminded himself - was pale to the point of having a greenish-blue tint about her; blood - recently spilled, he noted - ringed her mouth and stained her dress. She was covered with muck and gore to such a degree that Wendell almost missed the ragged, gaping hole in her neck. Ignoring the wound and her sickly pallor, the girl might have been considered healthy - this was a recent turning.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The creature leapt to its feet. It was faster than the older, more decomposed vampire in the forest had been, but was unbalanced, having not yet grown accustomed to its new state of being. A clumsy swipe allowed Wendell to get behind it, wrapping one arm under its chin and sliding the other behind its head. Locking his arms together, he effectively prevented it from being able to bite him. The creature tried in vain to kick and claw at the figure behind it, causing only a couple of random superficial scratches. Though not exceptionally muscular, Wendell easily maintained his grip.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Please turn away,” Wendell looked over at Patrice, “I will break the neck and we can dispose of it.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Non!” Patrice looked at the pitiful creature, her eyes welling with tears, “This … this is Camille. My cousin.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell sighed and shook his head. “Fetch Mr. Baine, as quickly and quietly as you can.” Patrice rushed from the room. The creature had nearly ceased its struggling; Wendell relaxed his grip a tiny bit. A sudden lunge resulting in a near loss of his ear led Wendell to question if it was trying to get him to lower his guard enough to be caught unawares. Could they be so clever?</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The longest of minutes passed before Patrice returned with a rumpled, bleary-eyed Mr. Baine in tow, bag in hand. “No rest for the wicked, eh?” he mumbled. Setting his bag on a small table, he looked to Patrice and nodded at the door, “Better shut that, dear, we don’t want to be interrupted.” Mr. Baine turned back to Wendell, “It’s a good thing this place is so bloody big, else your valiant rescue would have roused the whole house, I imagine.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I will endeavor to break down doors more quietly in the future,” Wendell grunted as the creature took a futile swipe at Mr. Baine, who was well outside of its reach. Mr. Baine pulled a slender wooden shaft from his bag; roughly one foot long and sharpened to a point at one end.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What is that?” Patrice was having to hold the door closed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“An ash stake. Carved up a bunch myself,” Mr. Baine held it up and smiled grimly.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What will that do?” Patrice, despite the attack mere moments before, seemed to grow truly uncomfortable as she beheld the stake and the man who held it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“A wooden stake through the heart will incapacitate the creature - don’t ask me how, I have no clue as to why. There are some superstitions about using ash, but mostly, it's sturdy, easy to come by, and makes excellent firewood.” He winked.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell found himself wondering, not for the first time, if Mr. Baine consciously acted inappropriate during these situations, or if he simply did it without thinking. Another lunge brought him back to the matter at hand and he tightened his grip. If the creature had need of oxygen, it would have been choked unconscious by now.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We cannot kill her!” Patrice felt like she was yelling, despite the conscious effort being made to keep her voice down, “There must be something we can do! This is her house.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We can’t save her; there is no cure.” Mr. Baine moved towards the creature, “Your cousin died in the forest.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What … what if we …” Patrice stepped forward, beseeching. Behind her, the door swung open just a bit.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Lock her in a cage? Feed her animals? Turn her into some exotic pet?” Mr. Baine shook his head, “Forgetting for the moment that this is a dead thing and will eventually begin to decompose, I have yet to see or even hear of a vampire feeding off anything other than living human blood.” Mr Baine. taking care to stay just outside the creature’s reach, raised the stake in his left hand, point toward its chest, and pressed the palm of his right hand against the end of it, “Hold tight, Wen, I don’t want to bounce off of a rib.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As he gathered himself to thrust, Patrice leapt at Mr. Baine, grabbing hold of his left arm. Anticipating the move, Mr. Baine twisted sideways, sending Patrice sprawling onto her bed, where she landed in a sobbing heap. Turning back to the captive vampire, Mr. Baine ran the stake to the inside of the left breast. A small spray of blood erupted at the attack, but Mr. Baine continued to push. No sooner had the point sunk out of sight beneath the flesh, then the creature seized violently and went rigid in Wendell’s grip. It made neither sound nor movement and, though its eyes remained open, they were vacant and unseeing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine turned to bed where Patrice sat, tears streaming and a hand covering her mouth in silent horror. His face was a dark cloud, made all the more menacing by the firelight and the spatters of blood which painted him. “That is twice now we have saved you from your own stupid sentimentality!” He marched over to his bag and pulled out the bonesaw. The fire lent the implement an orange-yellow glow as it caught the light. Patrice, knowing what was to come, buried her face in her hands and sobbed quietly.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That was unnecessary,” Wendell said quietly, moving past Mr. Baine to sit by Patrice on the bed.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It had to be done,” Mr. Baine replied, his anger mollified. He sighed, and looked around the room, </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;">“We need a sheet or blanket of some sort. This will be messy.” Mutely, Patrice motioned to chest at the foot of her bed. Mr. Baine opened it and began to rummage around.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I’m not talking about the stake,” Wendell placed a hand on a trembling shoulder.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Saving people from the occasional vampire is one thing. Saving them from two is frustrating, to say the least,” Mr. Baine sighed, “Saving them from themselves, well ... I do not much care for it,” As he spoke, Mr. Baine rose, bed sheet in hand, and stepped around the unmoving figure on the floor until he was standing by its head. Wendell found himself wondering if the vampire, transfixed as it was, could still see or hear what was happening. Could it even comprehend what was about to happen? He allowed himself a moment of pity for the creature as Mr. Baine rolled it on to its side and spread the sheet beneath it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What about me?” Wendell asked quietly. Upon hearing the question, Patrice risked a glance up at the strange man attempting to comfort her. She happened to catch sight of Mr. Baine preparing to use the saw out of the corner of her eye, and quickly returned her face to her hands, pressing in close to Wendell, who instinctively placed a hand over her exposed ear.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You, my friend, are a fool. It is only morbid curiosity and a thirst for knowledge that compels me to follow you,” Mr. Baine’s words were hard, but the sting of them was lessened by the tone he used. This was not the first time they had been spoken. He knelt down and set the blade just below the gaping wound in the neck, “I suppose that makes me the bigger fool.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "cambria"; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cccccc; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "cambria"; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">For the second time in a handful of hours, Mr. Baine set about the task of beheading a vampire.</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-91813121029280851352015-10-26T08:00:00.000-04:002015-10-26T11:23:06.407-04:00Untitled: Chapter 3<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It was past midnight and the streets of Paris were wreathed in fog. Elegant town homes lined the streets, windows dark and deaf to the clop-clopping of hooves echoing in the night. Gas lamps stood at attention at each intersection, their magnesium mantles rendering hazy islands of greenish-yellow light in a darkness so thick that it might have been tangible. Into one of these tenuous pools of light drifted a carriage.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The driver was hunched over, his arms held close and his coat wrapped tight so as to protect him from the damp curtain of the night through which he rode. He paused in the ghoulish illumination and peered vainly into the darkness. As he turned to look down the bisecting street in the opposite direction, he thought he caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye; a pale wisp of … something. Was someone following the carriage? He turned around in his seat, surveying the murky blackness for any sign of movement. A moment passed, then two. Nothing.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A creak from below signaled the opening of a window. “Gauche, monsieur Gaspard.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Oui, mademmoiselle.” Returning to his seat, the driver shook the reigns and the carriage floated back into the inky darkness.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A few moments later, in the quiet, swirling murk just outside the perimeter of the light, a slight grey form drifted silently through the night.</span></span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-7be75222-a19f-b3fe-4a49-a291ee94bdb5" style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">=========================================</span></span></div>
<b style="font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></b>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Inside the carriage, Wendell and Mr. Baine listened as Patrice continued her tale.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Father narrowly escaped Sedan only to be felled by Prussian artillery when they attacked the city. After selling nearly everything we owned to settle our debts, my mother and I - being just a few years old - were left with no means of supporting ourselves. Uncle Henri was not overly fond of his step-sister, as the scandal of her very existence had thrown my grandfather’s house into turmoil, upsetting what he swears was a happy and peaceful childhood until she arrived, though no Benoite has ever been described as ‘peaceful’ or ‘content.’ ” The young woman rolled her eyes, “It took grandfather, on his death-bed no less, to extract a half-hearted promise from Henri to take us in.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“In the years since, Camille and I grew up as sisters. However, there was a wild streak in her that somehow always ended with me - not her - being chastised by Uncle Henri. Apparently, some aspect of my ancestry was a bad influence, or some such nonsense, despite my best efforts to keep her out of trouble and in God’s good graces. And now, we find ourselves in the present situation.” Patrice sighed and rested her head against the side of the carriage. “I cannot help but wonder how different things might have turned out, had father lived.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Wendell sat quietly, listening to the girl’s story and was surprised at how much he sympathized; his heart went out to her. He thought briefly about sharing with her some of his own history, to identify with her on some level, but decided to hold his tongue. A sudden, unexpected explosion, and then the quiet of the grave. If only he could have granted such an end to ... He cut short the line of thought. There could be no commiserating over the untimely departure of loved ones. Not for him.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A brief moment of silence passed before Mr. Baine spoke up, “Given your relationship with your uncle, is it wise to expect hospitality from him? Especially considering that his own daughter is not yet accounted for?” Ever the pragmatist, thought Wendell.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Patrice nodded, “He may not care for mother and me in his house, but he is a gentleman and a gracious host … usually.” this last she added with a wry, uncertain smirk. Wendell wondered if she was doing it consciously. “Besides, you did save my life, it is the least he can do. As for Camille, it will not be the first time I have had to explain her absence.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The carriage rounded a final bend and began to slow. Up ahead stood a final streetlamp, marking the end of the row. The light etched the face of the large townhouse next to it in hard-edged chiaroscuro. Unlike all the other houses they had ridden past, the lower windows of this particular house had lights on in them. Behind the hopeful glow moved an indistinct and restless figure; someone was pacing through the lower floor. Occasionally, the figure would stop and hover by one of the windows. It was to this house that Mr. Gaspard drew his carriage to a halt.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Clad in Wendell’s traveling cloak, Patrice moved towards the door, “Wait by the carriage. I will explain everything, and then introduce you.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">No sooner had she set her foot on the ground than the door to the house flew open and someone rushed out; a woman, clad in a nightgown and robe. She was older than Patrice, but had the same delicate profile of the younger woman. In the wavering light of the lamp she carried, curls of dark chestnut similar to Patrice’s, though peppered with strands of grey, peaked out from beneath her nightcap.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">The woman, oblivious to the two men exiting the carriage, swept Patrice up in a hug before pulling back to berate her angrily in French. Patrice made several attempts to speak, but the older woman would hear none of it. Emotions flit across her face like a small flock of birds, each determined to land on the same place, only to be rousted by the others - anger, panic, fear, relief, joy. Just when it appeared that she was about to finish, she caught sight of the tattered dress Patrice had been keeping out of sight beneath Wendell’s cloak and began anew.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">A cough from above, measured and deliberate, finally brought her to a halt and drew the attention of those assembled on the street to the open doorway above. There, standing in the arch was stout man of middle age, the shortest of those assembled, clad in silken nightclothes and wrapped in a robe so plush, it threatened to swallow the wearer whole. Wendell noted that there was something about the eyes that he shared with both Patrice and the woman who had run out to greet her, but the family resemblance seemed to end there. He wore a look of concern, but it was clearly mingled with annoyance. The thin woman at his elbow had a sharp look about her. She glanced over the individuals standing before the house, and seemed disappointed in what she found - or perhaps didn’t find? - standing there.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Patrice used the distraction to extricate herself from the other woman and took a step forward, she spoke briefly in French, gesturing to the two men standing awkwardly by the carriage. Wendell, noticing how the gaze of the three strangers moved to them as their names were mentioned, bowed slightly.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Turning now to Wendell and Mr. Baine, Patrice spoke again, raising her arm to the man and woman standing in the doorway, “Gentlemen, I present to you my uncle and his wife, Henri Clotaire and Marie Dupuis Benoite,” Henri offered a formal nod to the men while his wife stood impassively beside him, unaware of the skepticism she so plainly wore. Patrice then turned to indicate the woman standing next to her, “and my mother, Juliet Benoite d’Chartres.” At this her mother appeared to become self-conscious of her attire. She curtsied awkwardly, drew her robe close about her and ascended the steps to stand on the landing, opposite Henri and Marie, who whispered sharply in her husband’s ear. Henri nodded and addressed the two companions.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Thank you for escorting Patrice home,” he spoke carefully, with a heavy accent, “We would speak with her privately. You are welcome to wait in the kitchen. It is warm and there is food. Have your driver bring the carriage around back.” With that he turned and entered the house, his wife following closely behind. Juliet moved to the edge of the steps and extended her hand to her daughter.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Do come in,” Patrice offered a tight-lipped smile to the two men before mounting the stairs to take her mother’s hand, “I will tell them of our adventure this evening,” and walked with her mother into the house.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As they followed her up the steps, Wendell leaned over to Mr. Baine and quietly asked, “Do you think she will tell them all that happened in the forest?”</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Hardly,” came the muttered reply, “She has yet to tell <i>us</i> everything, and we saved her life.”</span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-42954759989967897442015-10-19T08:51:00.001-04:002015-10-28T10:51:50.577-04:00Untitled: Chapter 2<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.3800000000000001; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Warmth. That was the first sensation. And while Patrice enjoyed the warmth, she realized that her current semi-reclined position was only marginally comfortable for sleeping. The blanket that covered her was made of a coarse fabric, not nearly as smooth as the fine silken sheets of her bed. Still, it warded the early spring chill quite nicely and made her feel safe. Not yet ready to open her eyes, Patrice buried her face more deeply into its folds, her nose picking up the faint odor of damp earth and, nearly imperceptible, the exotic aroma of spice or perhaps incense. Where had this blanket come from? She drew another breath through her nose. This time, a new smell joined the mix - the sharp, cloying scent of wood smoke. Fire?</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice bolted upright. The sudden movement caused a chorus of aches and pains to announce their presence, likely a result of the all-too-close encounter she had had with the tree. She was surprised to find that, for the most part, the pain was not overwhelming. She lifted the blanket under which she had been resting - which, she discovered, was not a blanket at all, but the simple brown traveling cloak the man who identified himself as Wendell had been wearing - and looked down to discover that the collection of cuts and scrapes she had accumulated in her headlong flight through the forest had been treated and bandaged where necessary. When had this occurred?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Looking around, Patrice saw that she was alone in the darkness of an enclosed carriage; she remembered the man in the bowler hat - Mr. Baine - mentioning a carriage. Where were they? Scraps of memory, floating at random through her consciousness, were slowly woven back into a tapestry of understanding. Strangers in the forest, attacked by a nightmare, running for her life and ... Camille. Mon Dieu, Camille! Like a storm on the horizon rumbling in sooner than expected, the weight of what had transpired fell upon the young woman. A chorus of sobs welled up from within Patrice; hot tears of guilt, anger and, worst of all, helplessness spilled forth, and her body shook violently. She cried long and hard, covering her face with the cloak and hoping desperately that no one could hear.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eventually, the storm passed, leaving Patrice aching and exhausted. She sat slumped back in her seat, staring at nothing. What was she going to do? How could she explain what had happened? A waft of smoke wound its way into the carriage by way of a partially open window, drawing her attention to the scene outside. Three figures stood before a burning pyre. Wendell was the most recognizable, dressed in his strange orange robes. Next to him stood Mr. Baine, identified by the hat he wore. The two men were engaged in quiet conversation as Mr. Baine fidgeted with a rag. A third man stood off to the side, gazing at the fire. He held an empty bottle and wore an expression of bored stoicism. Patrice was sure that she had not seen him before.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">They will want to know what happened, she thought to herself. Could she tell them about Camille? How would they react? Patrice bowed her weary head and tried to sort her thoughts. She was tired and sore, alone and at the mercy of strangers. It was not a good situation to be in. Several minutes passed before Patrice felt like she had reached a conclusion. Sighing heavily, she wiped her eyes, gathered what little remained of her dignity about her - along with Wendell’s cloak - opened the carriage door and stepped out.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Ah, our damsel in distress.” Mr. Baine finished wiping something dark off of his hands and turned back to the fire. Tossing the rag he’d been using among the dancing flames, he turned back to Patrice. “How are you feeling, Miss . . . ?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Patrice. I am meilleur,” she paused, thinking of the correct word in English, “better.” Patrice glanced past him to the fire and the ragged, darkened form at its center. “The fire, it has been raining, no?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Our driver, Mr. Gaspard here, happens to be quite handy, out-of-doors.” Mr. Baine nodded to the unknown member of the group who touched his hand briefly to the brim of his flat cap in an informal salute before turning back to the fire. “Still, the wood is wet, so it is smoking terribly. We shall be off as soon as it dies down.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell stepped forward, “May we give you a ride to safety? We are currently en route to Paris.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice nodded, “Oui. Merci. I have been staying with my cousin in Paris.” A cold breeze tumbled down the road, shaking drops of water from the trees and causing her to shiver in spite of the large fire nearby. “May we talk in the carriage? I am cold.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Of course. Mr Gaspard, will you see to the fire until it is safe to leave?” Mr. Baine turned to the driver, who nodded in response, then moved to open the door for his companion and their guest. Inside, out of the cold night air, the two men sat on the bench opposite Patrice. It was dark, as night had arrived during her period of unconsciousness. Despite the deep, black shadows hanging in the corners of the carriage interior, the light flickering in through the windows from the fire outside provided just enough illumination for the occupants to see each other.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine looked at the young woman, “Have you been crying?” he asked bluntly.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice affected what she hoped was a casual tone, “The smoke from the fire. It stings my eyes.” A brief moment of awkward silence passed between them before Patrice realized she had yet to thank either of her rescuers. She cleared her throat, “I have not expressed my gratitude for rescuing me. I owe you my life.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not at all, milady,” Mr. Bane appeared to be the spokesman for the duo, “It is fortunate that we happened to be in the vicinity and Wendell here heard you scream.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice stared at the silent warrior. “You heard me - through the trees and over the noise of the carriage? Surely, monseuir, you have the ears of le loup!” Wendell’s face flushed so deeply that the change in color could be seen even in the dim light of the fire outside. He gave a wan smile, lips pressed tight, and turned his head to gaze out the window at the fire.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It is doubly fortunate,” Mr. Baine continued, “that you were not bitten, else Wendell and I would be warming ourselves over an even larger fire.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice started to ask how he could know such a thing, but it appeared that Mr. Baine had anticipated the question. “While tending to your injuries after you passed out, I took the liberty of inspecting for bite marks. To your credit, it was not an altogether unpleasant experience.” He winked.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Th-that is no way for a doctor to behave!” she felt her cheeks grow hot and, realizing the current immodest state of her attire, reached over to once again cover herself with the cloak.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Mr. Baine snorted, “I am hardly a doctor, madam. But rest assured, I am a gentleman,” A small cough from Wendell prompted him to add, “... for the most part.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Then why do you carry around that bag,” she nodded to the leather bag at his feet, “treating injuries and administering medicine?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It pays to be prepared, one never knows when they might encounter a young woman being chased through the forest by a vampire.” Mr. Baine removed his bowler hat and ran a hand through his hair. “What in heaven’s name are you doing in the middle of nowhere? Unaccompanied and at dusk, no less!”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice suddenly felt like a child having to give account to an angry father. She followed Wendell’s gaze out the window, so as not to see their reaction, “We - that is I - wanted to see it. I had heard stories about how he was once a handsome nobleman, and … and ...” She blushed.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“...and it sounded romantic and exciting and the thought of being in the presence of something so dangerous and alluring roused your heart and so on and so forth.” Mr. Baine rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Honestly, the world loses more young women to the ridiculous notion of romancing the undead than anything else I can think of.” Patrice wanted to protest, to say that this had not been the case, but if she were honest with herself, the tactless Mr. Baine was uncomfortably close to the truth of the matter. She held her tongue and simply nodded.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Let this be a lesson to you, then.” Mr. Baine concluded, “Dead things do not stay pretty for long. Fresh blood can preserve them for a while, but ... well, you saw what happens eventually.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You said ‘we’,” Wendell had turned back to rejoin the conversation, “Was someone with you in the forest?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I was accompanied to the forest by my cousin, Camille - the one I have been staying with in Paris. It was she who told me of the creature and where to look, but she became frightened and left before we came upon it.” she turned back to the two men, quietly holding her breath as she gauged their reaction to her account.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“And there is no chance that she was bitten?” Mr Baine narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. Feeling the weight of his scrutiny, Patrice was on the verge of confessing the truth; then she remembered the bonesaw and the horrible, horrible noise it made as it began to chew through the fallen vampire’s neck. She shuddered involuntarily and shook her head,</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I lead the creature away from where she waited with our horse. She would have ridden back to her father for help.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">An indecipherable look passed between the two men. Mr. Baine crossed his arms, rubbing at the stubble on his chin thoughtfully, “Depending on how far away your cousin lives, I doubt they would have gotten a search party assembled before the sun set.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We should see the lady home as soon as possible,” Wendell said, “They will be worried.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I shall converse with Mr. Gaspard and see how soon we will be able to depart.” Mr. Baine maneuvered between the other two occupants of the carriage and opened the door. Patrice was surprised at how chilly the brief rush of outside air felt on her face and hands and was glad she was covered; Wendell seemed not to notice, despite the absence of his cloak.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once Mr. Baine had walked a certain distance away from the carriage, Wendell turned his attention back to Patrice. “I should apologize for Mr. Baine, he can sometimes be a bit … uncouth, but he means well and is committed to your well-being, as am I.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So different, she thought, then asked, “How did the two of you come to be traveling together?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell studied the young woman’s face for a moment, his eyes inscrutable in the darkness. He seemed to come to a decision, drew a breath, and began to speak, “I had just returned to England and was looking for someone - a certain doctor in London, rumored to be have studied the diverse aspects of the human mind and developing a chemical means of isolating them.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Returned from where?” Patrice interrupted.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I ... spent a number of years in the Orient seeking …” he looked down at his hands.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Seeking what?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Inner peace," he answered, ruefully.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">An awkward moment of silence between them led Patrice to a momentary pang of guilt for her prying. “Did such a man exist?” she asked “In London, I mean.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell nodded, “Unfortunately, having experimented on himself, he apparently went mad and took his own life shortly before I managed to track him down.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Patrice gasped quietly. “Then it is probably better that you did not find him. no?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A shrug. “Instead, I found Mr. Baine. The doctor’s work was of mutual interest to us, so we began a professional relationship - one that eventually lead us here.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“To Paris?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Paris is just a stop, we are on our way to Munich in Bavaria.” Wendell turned to gaze out the window once more. Something in the man’s tone led Patrice to believe that he did not wish to continue the conversation. She decided against asking any more questions. A long moment passed as the man and woman sitting in the carriage absentmindedly started out at the two individuals tending to the fire outside. Mr. Baine was poking a long branch around in the center of the flames while Mr. Gaspard walked the perimeter of the fire, kicking dirt among the outlying coals. As she contemplated the small cloud of sparks stirred up by their activity, Patrice found herself replaying the days events over in her mind. As she recalled the struggle between Wendell and the vampire, a thought occurred to her.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The two of you were not surprised by the creature. You have encountered them before?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wendell nodded. “Several times, in fact. They have become all too-common in the remote places of Europe. Fortunately, they are ruled by their insatiable hunger and follow predictable patterns of behavior.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Your journey East will take you into lands more dangerous than these, no?”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“The journey must be taken - there are worse things than vampires that must be dealt with.” Wendell suddenly seemed to be very far away. Patrice struggled with the curiosity burning within her, she wanted more than anything to get this man to explain himself, his strange appearance, and the obscure references he was making. Despite Mr. Baine’s tactless nature, at least the few interactions she had had with him felt complete and self-contained, and not like he was conducting only half a conversation while trying to keep the other half hidden away. Perhaps, she thought wryly, that is why Mr. Baine does the talking when he is around.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The door to the carriage opened suddenly, causing Patrice to jump, and Mr. Baine climbed inside. She noticed, as he sat down, that the light coming in through the windows had grown quite a bit dimmer. “The remains appear to be sufficiently cremated, given the advanced state of decay and the accellerant used - we now owe Mr. Gaspard a bottle of Cognac, by the way - the process took less time than I feared it might. So we should be able to depart just as soon as the flames are out.” Mr. Baine drew a breath and continued, “That clever Mr. Gaspard suggested pushing any remains down into the coals and covering the whole thing over with dirt, as that would allow the cremation to continue a while longer without setting fire to the forest. Though, as damp as it has been, I cannot conceive of that happening.”</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I should like to get you home and find out what has become of your cousin - Camille was it?” He nodded towards Patrice, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “We shall then be on our way.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cccccc; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Mr. Baine,” Patrice hesitated for the briefest moment, as if uncertain about what she was going to say, deciding finally to continue, “I am curious, if one is been bitten by a vampire … can it be reversed?” Had the carriage not been so dark, the two men might have noticed a look of desperation in her eyes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #cccccc; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-6a87f5c4-8027-5e2e-5e7e-35c8a5e5ef6e"><span style="color: #f3f3f3; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><span style="vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Not unless you can raise the dead, my dear. Even then, I would not be so sure.”</span></span></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-17770601008055475982015-10-12T08:08:00.001-04:002015-10-15T20:35:45.047-04:00Untitled: Chapter 1<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Patrice crashed blindly through the forest; her scream piercing the tranquility of the late evening before being swallowed up by the trees that seemed to press in on every side. Brush and low-hanging branches reached out for her, at first causing rips and tears in the young woman’s dress, now leaving angry red welts on the gradually increasing patches of delicate, exposed skin. She risked a glance over her shoulder, turning back just in time to see the tree before her. A last-second attempt to change direction failed and stars exploded across her vision as she collided with the rough bark of the tree’s trunk at a full run. Carried to one side of the tree by her momentum, Patrice fell to the damp leaf-strewn forest floor.<br /><br /> Head swimming and with darkness creeping in from the edges of her vision, Patrice found it odd that she should be so comfortable on the wet ground, despite the rain showers that had passed through earlier in the day. She also found it odd that she should be thinking such things when there was something important she needed to remember - what had she been doing up to this point? A breaking branch in the direction from which she had come snapped her mind back into blurry focus; she was running for her life.<br /><br /> Far too slowly for her satisfaction, but as quickly as her weary body would allow, Patrice climbed to her feet and began to put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster. Each step sent a throbbing blue sensation echoing through her skull, as if some tiny devil were drumming mercilessly on it from within. She tried to scream again, but the sound, to her ears, was as if she were doing so through a mouth stuffed full of cotton and only caused more pain in her head. Patrice imagined - or was it real? - that her pursuer was now just behind her, claws reaching forward to encircle her in a deadly embrace. The panic gave her a quick burst of speed.<br /><br /> A row of large bushes rose up in front of Patrice and, instead of spending precious seconds going around them, she leapt through them. The momentary fear of colliding with another tree was quickly forgotten as she emerged through the other side of the leafy barrier and realized that the ground was considerably lower than before. The bushes had been running along the top of a small but steep hill. Patrice landed off-balance, pitching forward to tumble down the incline and collapse in a heap on a flat and muddy stretch of ground. It took her wits a moment to catch up and Patrice suddenly realized that she had reached one of the roads passing through the forest. Relief washed over her, warm and reassuring, giving her a moment’s hope of salvation. Just as quickly, though, it was once more replaced by the gnawing chill of fear as the young woman realized she was not alone. Dirty, disheveled, bruised, and bleeding, Patrice tried to assess the figures before her as she rose unsteadily to her feet.<br /><br /> Two men stood on the road watching her. The nearer of the two appeared to be an English gentleman, though his clothes were just a bit too travel-worn for him to have been an aristocrat. Patrice judged him, based on the plain leather handbag he carried, to a be a journeyman of some sort, or perhaps a country physician. In the later case, his presence would be most welcome, she thought. In all other respects, the stranger was average: average height, average build, with plain brown hair peaking out from beneath a bowler she’d seen hundreds of times before in the streets of Paris framing an average face. This was a person who would be difficult to find in a crowd.<br /><br /> Patrice’s eyes darted over to assess the man’s companion. He was taller and could have been English, or perhaps German, despite his strange attire. At first glance she assumed him to be bald; upon a closer inspection, she realized his head was shaved. Despite this, he was not altogether unattractive. Beneath his mundane brown traveling cloak, which in itself was years out of date with the latest in travel fashion, he wore what appeared to be the robes of a spiritualist of some sort. Not the drab affairs so commonly associated with the European ascetics, but a brightly colored orange tunic, cinched at the waist with a belt of dark fabric over a matching pair of loose-fitting pants. Instead of the sensible leather shoes worn by his companion, this man wore a simple pair of sandals that, even now, he was removing to stand barefoot in the cold mud of the road.<br /><br /> “May we be of assistance?” The nearer of the two spoke first.<br /><br /> “Aidez-moi!” The yell was more of a croak, as Patrice’s throat was already raw from screaming and the hard breathing brought on by her headlong flight through the forest. The shorter man in the bowler glanced over at his strange companion, who shrugged and shook his head incoherently in reply. He turned back to the woman.<br /><br /> “Erm, my French is not good. Parlez-vous anglais?” His accent was clearly that of an Englishman.<br /><br /> “Oui ...” Before she could finish, a rustle in the bushes from whence she had come drew their attention. Patrice whirled around to see a shadowy figure creep through the ragged opening she had left in her passage through the hedge. The sun was nearly set by this time which, despite the unnerving prospect of having to fend off the dangerous creature before them in the deepening gloom, made Patrice glad that she did not have the full light of day by which to make out the beast’s gruesome visage.<br /><br /> The thing which now stood on the embankment above the three strangers had once been a man; it stood on two feet and still wore on its pale, emaciated frame the tattered remnants of a forgotten existence. The hands and feet were bare, each bony digit ending in long, ragged nails that were black with grime and were little more than crude talons by this point. Glimpses of bone at each knobby protruding joint could be seen poking through the creature’s papery skin.<br /><br /> The ruined face was easily the most disturbing aspect of the creature. The skin was so pale and drawn as to show every vein, black with cold, dead fluid; the cheeks and temples of the skull were sunken and gave the head a fleshless, skull-like appearance. The nose was nearly rotted off, a black hole bisected by deteriorating cartilage in the middle of what, in life, might once have been a handsome face. Bulging, bloodshot eyes - filled with the same black veins that crisscrossed the skin - stared down, unblinking, at the young woman, causing her to shudder involuntarily. Upon spying its prey, the creature sneered hungrily, the expression revealing receded black gums and a set of unnaturally long teeth; chipped, broken and yellowed with age where they were not covered with the remains of previous meals. Dry, wispy strands of hair fell about the blotched scalp in bunches; when stirred by a breeze, the creature’s hair produced the effect of a dark halo about it’s head. That same breeze carried to the three observers the foul stench of rot and decay mingled with freshly spilled blood - and indeed, there was red blood smeared and drying, around the ragged mouth and running down the bony chin and spattered across those filthy rags that had managed to remain intact up to this point. The girl’s stomach turned at the sight of the blood; she knew from whence it came.<br /><br /> Patrice turned to once again flee for her life, but was so surprised by the calm demeanor of the two Englishmen - for that is how she had come to think of the second man - that she stopped short. Instead of fear or panic or hatred or disgust or any of the other possible expressions she expected them to wear, they simply stared up at the creature who had only now taken notice of them. The man-thing at the top of the ridge began to pace slowly along the top of the ridge, sniffing occasionally in the direction of the two strangers. A low hissing noise began to emanate from it as it turned to face them and slowly lowered itself into a squatting position.<br /><br /> The man in the bowler turned to nod at his companion, who began to slowly undo his cloak, and took a step away from Patrice. At the movement, the creature sprang from its elevated position, arcing downward with talons extended and its bloody, gaping maw open wide. Patrice opened her mouth in reply, but nearly choked on her own scream, as the man in orange dashed, quicker than she could follow, between her and the other man. Without missing a beat, he turned sideways, hopped forward while whipping his leg - first up, then outward - and drove his heel between the pouncing creature’s arms and into its shoulder. The result was a muffled ‘pop’ as the brittle collarbone snapped. The kick, which had struck at an angle, did not counteract the momentum of the attack, but instead used it to carry the creature off to the side, away from the other two observers.<br /><br /> The creature, surprised by the attack, hit the ground, rolled onto all fours and quickly regained its feet. It glanced for a moment at the broken bone protruding from the top portion of its chest, hissed angrily at the man in orange and charged. Still calm and collected, the man in orange met the creature with a charge of his own. To Patrice’s surprise, the two combatants. despite being a blur of motion and fury, were surprisingly quiet. No yells accompanied the battle, no curses or cries of anger - only the occasional grunt from the man and the eerie hissing noise made by the creature. As the fight continued, Patrice became aware of a low, throaty growl rising out of the swirling melee. A hand on her tattered sleeve caused her to jump and she turned to see the man in the bowler tugging at her arm.<br /><br /> “It’s not safe here, we have a coach waiting for us up the road a-ways, out of harm’s reach, you should wait there.” his casual smile struck Patrice as absurd in light of the violence happening a few paces a way.<br /><br /> “Mais, votre ami…” she began, then remembered that the man’s French was weak. She started over “But, your friend - he is in grave danger, no?”<br /><br /> “I assure you, madam, Wendell is quite capable of handling this creature.”<br /><br /> A sudden roar accompanied by a wet ripping sound caused the pair to jump and turn back towards the fight, which now appeared to be over. The body of the creature lay in the mud of the road, it’s arms bent at unnatural angles, even for a creature which was itself unnatural. The right side of it’s pale, sunken face was covered by four large gashes. A few steps beyond, the man in orange - Wendell - was doubled over and appeared to be shaking.<br /><br /> “Wait here.” The bowler hat man turned and started to approach his companion. Patrice noticed that he did so cautiously.<br /><br />“Wen, did it get you?” Wendell shook his head, but said nothing.<br /><br /> “Do you require a dose?” A short nod.<br /><br /> The man in the hat stepped gingerly over the mangled form sprawled in the mud and made his way to his companion, undoing the buckle on his bag and reaching in to remove a syringe as he did so. Setting the bag on the ground, he pushed up one of loose sleeves on the bright orange tunic and injected the man he addressed as Wendell with ... something - Patrice could not tell, as the man had turned his back to her, blocking her view. She could have sworn, though, before he stepped into her line of sight that Wendell’s arm appeared to go from being a normal at the shoulder to exceptionally hairy beyond the elbow. The young Frenchwoman shook her head, enduring the dull ache it caused in an attempt to restore some semblance of order to her scattered, frantic thoughts. The things she had witnessed this ill-fated day had surely laid waste to her sanity.<br /><br /> A short, whispered conversation passed between the two men, Wendell straightened, seemed to regain his composure, and turned to face Patrice, bowing slightly. She noted that everything about him appeared to be normal and in good health - discounting his strange attire. The man in the hat squatted by his bag and began to rummage through it as Wendell made his way over to the woman, who was suddenly very aware of how ragged and filthy she must have appeared.<br /><br /> “I am Wendell,” The man spoke softly with an unfamiliar accent; mostly English, but something else, as well, “And,” he nodded to the man in the bowler hat, who appeared to have found what he was looking for in his bag, “Mr. Theodore Baine, at your service.” Patrice noted that the other man had not been introduced as a doctor.<br /><br /> "Were you harmed by this creature?” He indicated the body on the road. Patrice shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak, to thank the two men for rescuing her from certain death, when she noticed the man called Theodore stand with what looked to be a flat metal implement with a handgrip not unlike a pistol.<br /><br /> “What is that?” she asked.<br /><br /> “Bonesaw.” Mr. Baine answered, looking down at the pathetic, mangled specimen on the road before him. Something in the tone of his voice sent a chill down Patrice’s spine.<br /><br /> “What do you intend to do with this ‘bonezaw?” she asked, nonplussed.<br /><br /> “I intend to cut off its head.” With that, Mr. Baine knelt down, set the teeth of the saw to the creature’s scrawny neck and pushed forward. It was at this point that Patrice Deline Benoite d’Chartres lost consciousness.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-23228585855150385772015-10-08T20:12:00.000-04:002015-10-08T20:12:12.450-04:00Another Pivot?Wow. It's been a while.<br />
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After jumping through what felt like a thousand Apple-shaped hoops, <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/springling-swipe/id930330548?mt=8" target="_blank">Springling Swipe</a> finally appeared on the App Store back in January. Suffice it to say that it wasn't the next Angry Birds - or even the next Flappy Bird (I've made a grand total of $5.04 to date).</div>
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Why? If you've been following mobile/indie game development news, you might have heard that <a href="http://venturebeat.com/2015/08/27/mobile-ad-costs-rise-as-marketers-pay-more-to-target-the-right-audiences/" target="_blank">the cost of acquiring users is going up</a> and it's getting harder for indie developers to get established on Android and iOS. Lots (and I mean <i>lots</i>) of money is being paid so that the top handful of mobile games remain on the top of the download lists. Unless you already have an established property, or get paid to re-skin your unoriginal game with a popular celebrity or license. It's a bad time to get into mobile game development.<br />
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Bitter? Perhaps. But let's move on.<br />
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I had lunch with some friends/co-workers today. One of them mentioned seeing <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3659388/?ref_=nv_sr_1" target="_blank">The Martian</a> this past weekend, and how it started out as a book that the author released on his blog, one chapter at a time. This isn't the first time of heard of such a thing, either.<br />
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Guess who has an unfinished novel (38,680 words and counting) and needs some motivation to finish it?<br />
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Yup.<br />
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Too many distractions, too little time, and too many bills have sidelined the book I started on Dec. 31, 2013. Since game development is on indefinite hiatus and I have a blog that's doing naught but collecting dust, why not release the book - one chapter at a time - that nobody's reading anyway?<br />
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<a href="https://plus.google.com/102198864298856992735/posts/RiGZxV47ttB" target="_blank">I'll put a poll up on G+</a> to see which day of the week works best for something like this.<br />
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Be nice to finally get some honest-to-goodness feedback on it.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-53291734458830832262014-10-19T23:09:00.000-04:002014-10-19T23:09:16.458-04:00An Unexpected Journey: Android to iOS<a href="http://springlingswipe.com/" target="_blank">Springling Swipe</a> has been on <a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.KingworksCreative.SpringlingSwipe&hl=en" target="_blank">Google Play</a> for several weeks now. So, why isn't it on the AppStore yet?<br />
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Well ... have you got a minute?<br />
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About one week after the initial launch, I opened <a href="http://unity3d.com/" target="_blank">Unity</a> (upgraded to 4.6 to take advantage of the new GUI system) to find that the entire GUI was gone. It wasn't like the sprites became unassigned - the objects were just gone. Making matters worse was the fact that I foolishly forgot to make a backup of the working copy. The closest backup was before the 4.6 update, so it was better for me to recreate the GUI. Time consuming, but not terribly difficult.<br />
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Another issue that needed to be addressed was a conflict between two plugins being used in the Android version of the game. Google Play Services allows for features such as leaderboards and achievements (it requires the later, in fact). Then there's AdMob, the service that provides the advertisements that will (hopefully) justify the work that's gone into this new venture as a game developer.<br />
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Depending on which plugins you use (there are a number of variations to pick from), they may or may not work well together. Since GPS require a gmail account anyway, it made sense to drop it from the iOS release. Again, it required a little work, but it wasn't difficult.<br />
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No, 'difficult' is being a Windows user trying to get something on the AppStore.<br />
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In order to get an app uploaded you have to do the following:<br />
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1) Have a Apple Developer license ($99/year; in contrast, Google Play requires a one-time developer's fee of $25)<br />
2) Setup your iTunes Connect account<br />
3) Get two certificates - Developer & Distributor - through this account for the app you want to make and apply them to your 'keychain'<br />
4a) Fiddle with some settings and add a number of libraries related to the plugin to get where Xcode will compile it<br />
4b) Connect an iPhone/iPad to a Mac and compile your app in Xcode to the device - as you might imagine, this is tricky for someone who owns neither an iOS device nor a mac. Fortunately, I know some 'apple guys' (This is the step I'm currently in).<br />
5) Assuming there are no issues, upload the app from the device to iTunes Connect.<br />
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Easy for a Apple Acolyte. Nearly impossible for a PC Punk.<br />
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I'm praying that's all there is to it - that there isn't another 'surprise' or 'gotcha' waiting around the corner. This has been such a headache. If I had the money, I'd buy a mac and an iphone just so I wouldn't have to go though all this mess again.<br />
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Unless the game suddenly takes off, however, I don't see that happening. I guess that means that the next leg of this journey will involve learning how to market my mobile game and get the word out about Springling Swipe.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-43495516113213380562014-09-02T22:45:00.000-04:002014-09-02T22:45:40.181-04:00My Descent Into Mobile Game DevelopmentSometime around October of last year (2013), I got it in my head that I'd like to make a mobile game. Having ideas and making plans to do this or that is nothing new for me - I've got a number of half-finished (novel) and/or aborted projects (fantasy playing cards) - but for some reason, this one stuck.<br />
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Up to this point in my life, I had some experience as a Javascript/PHP coder built over some Java & C++ classes taken years prior in college, but never fancied myself a serious programmer. I always leaned toward front-end work, because that's where the designers and artists got to play. However, I knew enough to get myself into trouble. So I did a couple of Google searches to find out what was involved in producing a mobile game.<br />
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Eventually, I stumbled across (not upon) <a href="http://unity3d./">Unity3d.</a> At first blush, it had everything I was looking for: It was free and it could export builds for both Android and iOS devices, which make up something like 98% of the mobile market. It also allowed to languages: C#, which is almost like C++, and Unityscript, basically Javascript, with some quirky additions. I had originally intended to go the 'Script route, but was surprised to find myself working in C#. That decision was probably aided by the number of quality C# tutorials and lessons that help get me immersed in the environment.<br />
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I spent some time trying to figure out what sort of game I wanted to make. Ideas? I had lots of those, but which one? One of the Unity forum threads had some advice for new game developers: "Yeah, you want to make something epic and great, but you need to start small. Otherwise you'll get discouraged and quit before you finish your first game." At least, that's what I took from it. So I began to churn out ideas for 'small' games - ones that I didn't feel would be too terribly demanding to produce (because I'm still working as a full-time freelancer), but would still be fun. Because, ultimately, that's the most important thing.<br />
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Nearly one year later, I've almost wrapped up development on my first mobile game - Springling Swipe - and starting to get my business and marketing ducks in a row.<br />
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The challenge at this point is feature creep - the urge to keep adding little extra bells and whistles to make the game that much 'better' or 'polished' or 'professional.' Sometimes, I can be a bit of a perfectionist. Other times, I use the perfectionists' excuse of 'it can be better' to tweak a project into oblivion so it never sees the light of day and risk handling any sort of rejection (that's a whole other can of worms). I <i>think </i>I've got a handle on this, though. I think I'm at the point - barring a couple of details - where I'm ready to put the game (and myself) out there in a way I never have before and let come what may.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-77004388492194542162013-04-30T17:59:00.001-04:002013-04-30T17:59:41.606-04:00Portrait of a Villain: Brother Ptolemy and the Hidden Kingdom<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The following is my original, unedited short story which accompanied the background material I submitted to <a href="http://nevermetpress.com/" target="_blank">Nevermet Press</a> for the Brother Ptolemy character, written April 20, 2012. It appears in the <a href="http://nevermetpress.com/tag/the-hidden-kingdom" target="_blank">adventure we published</a> in November of that same year.</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Portrait of a Villain: Brother Ptolemy and the Hidden Kingdom</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 16px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">by: Paul M. King</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A gaunt form drifts slowly through the crowd, dressed in robes of dark crimson, the color of dried blood. A hood, pulled low, all but hides the tarnished glimmer of a smooth, featureless mask that covers his face. Cracks like shadowy veins spider across the facade, golden paint flaking away to provide a tiny glimpse of the ancient cedar beneath. Small bottomless wells of darkness fall into the mask, openings for the mouth and eyes, and continue to hide what lies beneath even in the harsh light of the noonday sun.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Two figures, move in step with the first, flanking him on either side. They are all robed and adorned in the same manner and none who stand in the heavy aroma of incense and exotic spices left in the wake of their passing can spy a difference between them.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Duke Gerhardt von Brandt was a very rich and - his detractors would only begrudgingly admit - handsome man, two facts of which he was keenly aware. One evening, while preparing to entertain his fellow aristocrats, he spied a gray hair in his ebony mane. This sent him flying into a rage and von Brandt soon found himself consumed with searching for a means of preserving his youthful visage and vigor. He began to travel extensively, visiting repositories and practitioners of ever deepening arcane knowledge, his desperation and determination growing with every dead end he seemed to encounter at every turn. Eventually, in the dusky light of a Far-Eastern back alley, von Brandt found himself handing over a tremendous sum of money to a ragged thief for an ancient dusty scroll. The scroll, the thief assured Gerhardt, held the secret to immortality.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">A shadow looms over the beggar sitting by one of the city gates. He looks up, shading his eyes against the bright sunlight to find a trio of tarnished, impassive faces silently gazing down upon him. The beaten tin cup he hesitantly extends rattles fearfully, tossing about the pair of coppers he's managed to collect this day. The middle figure steps forward and kneels down, the aged mask drawing level with the beggar's dirty weather worn features. A voice, like a dry autumn breeze wafting lazily through brittle fallen leaves drifts towards him. "You hunger?" A question, but not. The beggar nods with practiced humility. A gloved hand glides forward, and hovers over the beggar's cup; he leans forward expectantly. "When this is gone, seek us out. You need never hunger again."</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The poor man is surprised by an unexpected rattle and a sudden weight in his cup. He looks down to find it half filled with gold coins, more money than he can ever remember seeing. The shadows pass and the beggar climbs to his bare feet. "Bless ye! Bless ye, sirs!" The figures stop and turn. "We are blessed, and we look forward to sharing that blessing with you." With that, they are gone.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Years passed, and Duke von Brandt continued to travel, seeking experiences both wondrous and exotic. As young and handsome as he was, Gerhardt was never for lack of companionship. One night, while in a tavern far to the north, he attracted the attention of a local beauty. Unfortunately, this attracted the attention of her jealous and rather inebriated lover. A fight ensued and a dagger found its way through Gerhardt's ribs and into his heart. He staggered back and withdrew the blade. The stunned silence was shattered as the mortally wounded Duke began to laugh; he suddenly lept forward and buried the dagger up to the hilt in his opponent's belly. As the man lay dying on the floor, Gerhardt von Brandt turned and walked out into the bitter cold night.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The drought is severe this season and the local farmers are hard pressed to keep up with the demands of the city, much less keep food on their own tables. The red monks had imported a large shipment of food and set up a soup kitchen in the center of the city; the line wrapped around nearly the entire square. A trio of monks enters the square and heads for the kitchen. One of them breaks off from the other two to stand on the raised dais where a statue to the city's founder gazes out serenely over what he had wrought generations before. Gloved hands are lifted and the attention of nearly every person in the sullen, shambling line is turned towards him. "Brothers and sisters! We are happy to share all that we have with you! But know that this meal can only give but a temporary respite to the unending neediness of this world. There will always be hunger, always be pain, always be fear. This does not have to be! There is another way - a better way! You need not be hungry! You need not suffer! You need not fear, even death! Friends, these things no longer have any hold over us. We are free, and we invite you to share in our freedom."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Gerhardt traveled home. On the way, he had become increasingly aware of a smell that seemed to surround him. He attributed this to the stench of the road; but was dismayed to find that it continued to offend his senses even after he had returned home and taken a hot bath. His irritability grew further as each meal seemed blander than the last. He decided to stop eating altogether; it wasn't very hard to do, as he no longer grew hungry. One morning, as he performed his daily grooming ritual, a clump of his luxurious dark hair came loose in his hand. As he stared at it in horror, the duke noted that the texture of his usually fair skin was changing, it was more drawn than usual and beginning to take on discomforting pallor. He spent the next two days wandering aimlessly through the halls of his manor house, clutching the clump of hair to his sinking, perforated bosom. On the morning of the third day, the duke called for a meeting with his entire terrified waitstaff. They were shocked to find him dressed and packed for a journey. They were even more surprised to hear that he no longer needed their services and that every last one of them was dismissed and to vacate the premises immediately. Then, locking up behind him, Duke Gerhardt von Brandt departed for one final journey.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">The mayor stands at his office window overlooking the square. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> "I don't trust them, I just . . . don't, and I don't know why." </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">He shakes his head as his guest, a prominent merchant, moves to refresh his glass of wine. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> "What's not to like? They provide for the needy, have taken beggars off the streets, crime is down ever since they came to town - and no one has ever had a bit of trouble out of them. If only all the other religious orders were as helpful as they. You didn't seem to mind giving them a permit for their little charity kitchen down there." </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> "But why do they all have to dress the same . . . and those masks . . . "</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> "Something to do with overcoming vanity or some such nonsense. Every order has its eccentricities."</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"> "The people love them, and I can't fault them for it. But . . . I wonder . . . where are all those beggars and criminals now? And what happens when they ask for something that city will not - or cannot - agree to?"</span></div>
<br /><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 13px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;">Dust coats every surface of the forsaken von Brandt manor. Vines snake across the walls and windows, strangling the sunlight. The gardens, once meticulously kept and manicured are now overgrown and resemble little more than self-contained patches of wilderness. A pair of rats meander lazily across the great foyer that once greeted nobility from nearly every corner of the kingdom. An unfamiliar scent causes one of them pause and sniff the air. Suddenly, a metallic scratch at the door causes them to spin about; a rasping click of the aged lock sends them scurrying for their nest. The front doors swing inward, sending forth a gust of incense and exotic spice that cause the cobwebs to billow. A gaunt, red robed figure walks silently into the manor and looks around. He turns and nods to a second figure, dressed in much the same manner as he, who begins to carry in the few possessions they've been traveling with - scrolls and books, mainly. The second figure hums quietly to himself, it is a tune he has not heard since his days as a thief living on the streets of a distant Eastern city.</span>
</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-76354234675937928722013-02-14T21:58:00.002-05:002013-02-14T21:58:46.211-05:00Art: Ulfen - Midnight/Homebrew PCMan, it's been a while. <br />
<br />
I was invited to participate in a <a href="http://www.obsidianportal.com/campaigns/we-need-a-name" target="_blank">RPG campaign</a> based primarily around the <a href="http://wiki.rpg.net/index.php/Midnight_RPG_Campaigns:_Main_Page" target="_blank">Midnight</a> campaign setting, but incorporated a variety of other source material (D&D 2/3.5, Pathfinder, d20). Since it's been a while since my own group had a session, and even longer since I've actually participated as a PC, I couldn't say no.<br />
<br />
There is a story-based reason for the hood, but at the risk of having my fellow PC's stumble across this post, I shall not divulge the reason here. Suffice it to say, he's proficient with a Dwarven Waraxe.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zyrVBcwvJVc/UR1H8vlTfNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/05tc4N9W_P0/s1600/Ulfen_pinup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zyrVBcwvJVc/UR1H8vlTfNI/AAAAAAAAAOk/05tc4N9W_P0/s320/Ulfen_pinup.jpg" width="224" /></a></div>
In other news:<br />
<ul>
<li>Progress on my novel is currently sitting at 31,116 words, according to the software's word count. I'm hoping to have it finished and possibly even edited before the year is out, but that's going to take some serious discipline on my part.</li>
<li>I haven't played <a href="http://www.firefallthegame.com/" target="_blank">Firefall</a> in a while, since there have been no additions (that I know of) made to the Assault Frames. I did start playing SW:TOR at my brother-in-law's suggestion (it being f2p to level 50), completed the first BioShock, something I was holding off on until I got my new laptop: a HP ENVY dv7. I'm also playing around with <a href="http://www.pathofexile.com/" target="_blank">Path of Exile</a>, a f2p spiritual successor to Diablo 2. I have some other games waiting to be played, but if the new <a href="http://www.xcom.com/enemyunknown/entry" target="_blank">XCOM</a> goes on sale, that will probably jump to the top of the list.</li>
<li>After more years than I care to count, I have stopped collecting comic books. I may write a stand-alone post about that later on, we'll see. Now, if I can just quit Mtn. Dew (and soft drinks in general) ...</li>
<li>Saw the Hobbit; it was good, but some of the scenes (Stone giants, escaping the goblins in the caves) were just too overblown - they kinda took me out of the movie, same problem I had with Jackson's King Kong.</li>
<li>After migrating my wife's blog into her Wordpress site, I've been considering doing the same with this blog, just to get it off blogspot.com and under my own domain. Don't know if there is any meaningful benefit to doing so, though.</li>
</ul>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-13317801438062583842012-09-05T19:02:00.001-04:002012-09-05T19:09:39.579-04:00Fire Fall: Impressions and Gameplay VidIf you read my previous entry, you know I've been watching a lot of <a href="http://dayzmod.com/" target="_blank">DayZ</a> gameplay video on YouTube - mainly by a user known as <a href="http://www.youtube.com/user/SideStrafe" target="_blank">SideStrafe</a>. But since the game is still in alpha (beta now?) and is a mod for another game you have to pay for (ARMA II), I just can't commit to it. SideStrife does post some other gameplay videos, however - one of which was for a new MMOFPS/RPG called <a href="http://www.firefallthegame.com/" target="_blank">Fire Fall</a> (or Firefall, if you're lazy). Suffice to say, I really liked what I saw.<br />
<br />
In fact, I liked it so much, I attempted to make my own gameplay videos for it:<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="allowfullscreen" frameborder="0" height="480" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/NTPWJ5dG5Y4" width="640"></iframe><br />
<br />
One of the few things that I don't like about Team Fortress 2 is the lack of any sort of meaningful progression. You fight one round at a time or, if you're playing MvM, 9 waves at a time. Yes, you can "find" crates and weapons, but that's it as far as character development goes. Fire Fall solves this by taking the FPS gameplay, wrapping it in a MMORPG structure and giving it a sci-fi twist.<br />
<br />
Killing baddies and completing missions gives you XP, which can then be spent upgrading your 'battleframe.' Your battleframe of choice serves as your class, with the added benefit of being able to change into new battleframes. There is a 'tech-tree' (similar to Diablo's skill tree progression) for each battleframe leading to two souped-up versions when you have unlocked the necessary prerequisites. Additionally, unlocking one skill does not lock you out of going back and unlocking any of the other options. You can then mix and match the upgrades to your battleframe (including the primary and secondary weapons) as you see fit.<br />
<br />
The game is free-to-play, which, considering the quality of the environment and the attention to detail - down to the descriptions of your battleframe upgrades - is impressive. There is no advantage to be had in buying super powerful weapons or equipment. Instead, you can opt to purchase visual enhancements for your character. It's an interesting and potentially risky move on Red 5's part, but I hope it pays off, as nothing is more annoying than players dominating a game simply because of how much disposable income they have.<br />
<br />
Fire Fall is currently in closed beta, but the resourceful user will be able to score an invite without too much trouble (if I can do it, anyone can). There are still some rough edges and lag issues, but the point is to help the developer find problem areas as much as it is to enjoy the game. My only major concern (major being an overstatement) is that I seem to have outpaced the story - I finished the handful of missions available in the two 'civilized' areas of the map and now find myself grinding while waiting for more playable areas and missions to appear.<br />
<br />
There is a silver lining to the grinding, however, as I now find myself on the verge of getting my first advanced battleframe.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-62157015566456073652012-08-04T10:19:00.002-04:002012-08-04T10:20:33.706-04:00Outside-In: A DayZ Short Story<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">Pre-story disclaimer: I have not actually played DayZ; 90% of what I know came from watching gameplay videos on YouTube. The other 10% from a visit to <a href="http://dayzmod.com/">dayzmod.com</a></span><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
<br />
<h2>
<b><span style="font-size: large;">Outside-in: A DayZ Short Story</span></b><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span><span style="font-size: x-small;">by: Paul M. King (2144 words)</span></h2>
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Chernarus.
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The name popped up in the news a few weeks ago because of an epidemic
or some kind of disaster - a lot people thought it had to be
something nuclear, mainly because the name of the country sounded a
lot like ‘Chernobyl.’ The level of international concern was
about the same as one of those African countries that are constantly
in grip of a severe famine or civil war - We feel bad that something
terrible is happening, but there’s not a lot anybody is going to do
to help a poor country with no oil and little potential as a tourist
destination. It didn’t help that hardly anyone could find the place
on a map; I knew it was somewhere along Russia’s eastern shore - on
the Sea of something-or-other - but that’s about it; more than most
people could tell you, I’d wager.</div>
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Eventually, the news moved on to other more interesting stories -
another politician got caught cheating, a celebrity couple was
splitting up, it was really hot today - and we forgot about
Chernarus.</div>
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A couple of weeks passed; the only news I can recall from that
distant corner of the world was about some military exercises the
Russian navy was conducting that raised eyebrows in some of the Asian
countries, but nothing came of it. I had other things on my mind; I
was finally made full-time at the firm where I’d been doing my best
to scrape by on 30-hour work weeks for nearly a year. Have you ever
contemplated a memory, only to realize that you don’t really
remember doing whatever you were doing when your brain absorbed the
information - like it just sort of took root in your mind by itself?
The human brain is funny that way.</div>
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Anyway, to help make ends meet as a part-timer, I took on a number of
freelance projects. The last project I would need to take as a
freelancer was for a non-profit organization with international ties.
The request was for an online database with both an internal and
external interface to track the need for humanitarian aid in
third-world countries, places that this organization would then try
to raise funds for aid and medical mission work.</div>
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At the risk of making a sweeping generalization, working for
non-profits is usually a pain. They tend to have very limited
resources, but require a high level of functionality combined with an
equally high-level of abstraction in their online applications. But,
a paycheck is a paycheck and the landlord doesn’t care where the
money comes from, just that he gets his share of it by the end of the
month.</div>
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To my surprise, the client was very easy to work with, they even
loved the first design revision I submitted - that hardly ever
happens. I continued to develop the site, all the while providing
daily updates to the client, just to make sure that yes, they really
are happy with the way things are progressing and, no, they don’t
feel the need to make a “little change” to the underlying data
structure. In fact, there was only one change I was asked to make
before the site could go live; a single entry had to be purged from
the database: Chernarus.</div>
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Normally, I wouldn’t give such a request a second thought, but it
occurred to me that I hadn’t heard, read or seen anything about
Chernarus since it was mentioned in the news a couple of months
prior. I googled Chernarus for any recent mentions and came up empty;
not a single mention of the country in news articles, blog posts,
wikis, or social media that was less than year old.</div>
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On a whim, I did a quick search for recent mentions of Russia in the
news. Since Chernarus used to be a part of the Soviet Union, I
figured there might be some mention of the missing country. The only
remotely interesting article I could find involved an American who
had gone missing while traveling in the Ural mountains. Just another
sad story.</div>
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Another couple of days and the project was finally completed; I got
paid and treated myself to a night out with my friends to celebrate.
On this particular night, we decided to catch a late movie, so it was
nearly two in the morning when I arrived home. I hate to admit it,
but I’m not as young as I used to be, I can’t pull all-nighters
like I did in college just ten years ago (man, has it really been
that long?). So I probably looked like some kind of brain-dead zombie
staggering through the front door to the unexpected guest sitting in
my living room.</div>
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It was clear he had been expecting me. He didn’t jump up in
surprise or act in any way like I had caught him doing something
suspicious. That’s not to say that he was completely at ease; he
wore a fearful, hunted look about him - but I wasn’t the one making
him nervous.</div>
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“Hey man, long time no see.”</div>
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There was an awkward moment of silence as my weary, startled mind
struggled to put a name to the face.</div>
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“Pete? Is that you?” Pete and I had grown up on the same street,
we graduated together, then went our separate ways in life. Last I
heard - my mother was friends with his mother on Facebook - he was in
the CIA.</div>
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He nodded, “You look good, life treating you well?”</div>
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“Yeah, I guess. You look …” How do you tell someone you haven’t
seen in over a decade they look terrible?</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Pete picked up on my hesitation. “I’ve been better.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“What’s going on? Why are you in my apartment?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“I need a place to lie low for the night,” he said, “Don’t
worry, I’ll be gone by the time you wake up.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Are you in trouble? Is someone after you?” I asked.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“That’s the problem, I’m not sure,” he sighed, “And if I
was sure, it would be too late.” I can only imagine my expression
as he said this.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“What do you know about Chernarus?” he asked.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“It was in the news a while back, people were sick or something.
And now it’s like it no longer exists.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Pete nodded, “There’s a reason for that. The country has been
quarantined - completely cut off from the rest of the world.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“The epidemic?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Maybe? I didn’t have enough clearance to dig that up, but I do
know something heavy is going on in that country and no one is
allowed in or out.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Pieces of memory began to fit together, “the Russian navy - those
weren’t military exercises?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
He shook his head, “A blockade. And the US is providing drones to
patrol the mountains that separate the two.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I had a sinking feeling about the answer to my next question. “That
wouldn’t include the Urals, would it?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“You heard about the missing American?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Just that he was last seen in the Ural mountains.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“He was an independent filmmaker, looking to make a documentary
about Chernarus.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“And he was killed?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Pete shrugged, “All I know is that my team was assigned to go look
for him. Before we even leave the states, word comes down from the
top that the case is closed and ‘Here’s your next assignment.’
That’s when I started digging.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“I get the feeling you dug too deep.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Pete leaned in, his voice low, “People are being sent to Chernarus.
Just … bundled up, dropped off and left there.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Why?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“If I knew that, I could blow the whole thing wide open.” he
slumped back in the chair, “Right now I’ve got little more
credibility than your run-of-the-mill conspiracy nutjob. Assuming I
could get to the media, I’d just be spun as an unfit agent with
PTSD or some other nonsense.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Truth is often stranger than fiction,” I offered, “But to
totally cut off an entire country? How can they expect to keep it
up?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
“Look at Area 51,” he countered, “No one denies it exists, they
just don’t talk about it. And if any of the crazy ideas about what
goes on there are accurate, who’s going to know? How do you tell
the truth apart from the rest of it?”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
By this point, my brain felt like mush. “I’ve got to get some
sleep. The couch pulls out and there are blankets in the linen
closet.” I got up from where I was sitting and started towards the
bedroom, “Assuming this isn’t some crazy dream I’m having,
we’ll figure things out tomorrow.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Pete chuckled, some combination of bitter mirth and weariness, then
said, “Good night.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The next morning, I awoke to an empty house.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
The next day, I returned home from work to find someone waiting for
me in the driveway. The man flashed a badge - CIA - and asked to
speak with me. Despite my uncertainty at the prior night’s
encounter, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t given any thought to
this scenario during the day. With all the calm nonchalance as I
could muster, I invited the man inside and offered him a drink.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I sat where Peter had been waiting for me the night before while the
agent sat on the couch and asked me questions about the boy who had
grown up down the street from me; if I had managed to stay in contact
with him, and if he might have tried to contact me recently.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto;">
Finally, the questions stopped and he stood to leave. I noticed that
the throw pillow he had been leaning against was upside down, so that
the zipper was showing.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto;">
“Sorry,” I said, as I flipped it over, “it’s an OCD thing -
it really bugs me when people leave couch cushions upside down.”</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto;">
A strange expression clouded his features for the briefest moment
before he shook my hand, thanked me for my time and left.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto;">
After seeing him off, I collapsed on the couch with a huge sigh of
relief. I had done a pretty good job of keeping it together; I drew
comfort in the fact that, even if they suspected that Pete had
contacted me - I had done nothing wrong, he was the one they were
after.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto;">
It was getting late and, since I normally grab dinner right after
work, I was starving. I didn’t feel like cooking, so I drove
through the nearest fast food joint and made my way back home.
Shortly after eating, I performed one last email check for the day
and decided to turn in for the night. It’s probably telling of my
caffeine consumption that I can knock back a regular-sized soda and
go right to sleep - of course, being up most of the night before
probably contributed. In just a couple of minutes, I was dead to the
world.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto;">
My dreams that night were really weird; I experienced sounds and
sensations, but couldn’t actually ‘see’ anything - like
dreaming with a blindfold over my mind’s eye. It reminded me of the
time I had my wisdom teeth taken out, and they put me under.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
At different points, I felt like I was being carried or riding in a
vehicle. The voices I heard were often hushed or muffled; there were
a variety of accents and I think - at least once or twice - I heard
someone speaking Russian. Not knowing a single bit of the language,
it was hard to be sure.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
Have you ever woken up in stages - like, your mind wakes up before
your body? You’re lying there, thinking thoughts and being aware of
the fact that you are awake, but you can’t move at all? Sleep
paralysis, it’s called.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
As I lay there, waiting for my body to get with the program, I
realized that something was very wrong - I was not laying in my bed
at home. I felt a fine, gritty texture against my face and hands and
a cool breeze stirring above me; I heard the sound of waves and
seagulls a short distance away. I was wearing clothes, but not the
shorts and sleeveless t-shirt I usually wear to bed; the outfit I
wore was unfamiliar to me. Finally, after a minute or two - which
each of which felt like an hour - I realized I could move again.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in; page-break-after: auto; page-break-before: auto; text-indent: 0.5in;">
I jerked myself upright to confirm my fears: I was sitting on a rural
beach. Despite the lack of a single recognizable natural feature or
landmark by which to orient myself, I knew with cold certainty where
I was. Getting to my feet and stretching my aching muscles, I
attempted to stop the nagging thought that kept repeating itself in
the back of my head by finally giving voice to it,
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
“Welcome to Chernarus.”</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-72877327155822772812012-02-24T11:07:00.000-05:002012-02-24T11:07:00.576-05:00Tales of a Less-Desperate Part-Time DeveloperI have been remiss in letting you, faithful reader, know that I was hired last Friday.<br />
<br />
I am working part-time at a web design firm learning Expression Engine, I will go full-time when I am able to handle a full production schedule ... but you don't need to worry about the details, just know that I have a job. Also, I was fortunate enough to pick up a freelance client two weeks back. I should be wrapping up with him next week. He seems pleased with my work and could lead to future side jobs.<br />
<br />
I want to express my sincere, heartfelt thanks to any and all prayers, well-wishes, recommendations and/or attempts to find work for me. I felt like I was in limbo for an eternity, but in reality, I was very blessed to get hired as quick as I did, and to be working with some cool guys in a fancy office - above ground and with windows, no less!<br />
<br />
Naturally, this has been a HUGE weight off my shoulders; I feel like I can almost function normally again. "Normal" being highly relative when used in regards to me.<br />
<br />
My first order of extra-curricular business is to get some artwork done for Nevermet Press. They've been shoved aside for this whole job-hunting mess and I really want to make it up to them with some quality illustrations. Jonathan, Nevermet's big kahuna, will never know how much I appreciate him making me a part of Nevermet, his patience and his willingness to try and help me find a job.<br />
<br />
I also need to make myself keep writing the story I started last year. It's currently sitting at 24,759 words and I am determined to finish it. Unfortunately, I haven't touched it since Jan. 20 due to all the job-related craziness. I also have a bad habit of setting projects aside when something else captures my interest, but this is one that I feel is important to finish.<br />
<br />
I'm looking forward to an exiting new year of opportunity and finally getting some interesting content posted at least a couple times a month.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6845572069218966237.post-71295926201076934782012-01-19T09:15:00.002-05:002012-01-19T09:21:12.045-05:00Tales of a Desperate Freelancer, part II think the Mayans were on to something. They knew 2012 was going to be a rough year, they just didn't know why or for whom.<br />
<br />
Our tale of woe begins back in the Spring semester of 2011 when I took a course in Advanced Drawing. I loved it. As the semester progressed, I found myself looking forward to class and, increasingly, dreading the trudge back to my dreary little cubicle. I daydreamed about being a designer or doing art for a living. I was given a couple of HTML/CSS-related projects, but it was to implement designs from the Marketing department. I longed to create and be creative.<br />
<br />
I made mistakes.<br />
<br />
Two, to be exact, and my manager took me to task for them. After multiple sit downs with him, we came to the conclusion that my heart simply was not in programming. Fearing that attempting to stay in a job I could not stand would only lead to further mistakes and possibly getting fired, I submitted my resignation in November of 2011. The resignation was padded, giving me 90 days to find a new job; my last day would be January 31st, 2012 - I figured that would give me plenty of time to get hired and carry us through the holidays. <br />
<br />
Thus I updated my <a href="http://kingworkscreative.com/">personal website</a>, tried to patch together a presentable portfolio, and began hitting up local and national job sites, looking for design positions that would allow me to do what I loved, but would not have to move. I got several calls from the DC/NOVA area, but they were interested only in programming and/or required me to be on-site. Other leads turned out to be for positions which the company already had someone in mind, they just had to advertise the opening for legal reasons.<br />
<br />
In December, I was connected to the owner of a local design firm. We talked and he seemed eager to take someone on. Right after Christmas, I went in and spent a full day in the office, familiarizing myself with the team and their projects. The owner wanted to know when I could start working, as they had some projects coming up. I felt obligated to finish my current position (it was three weeks, versus two), but offered to spend that time learning their systems and brushing up on skills they used that I had not in a while on my own time.<br />
<br />
Things were looking up. I was teaching myself new software, the stress of looking for work was over and, while I wouldn't be making as much initially, the potential for growth was much better than in my current position.<br />
<br />
On Tuesday, January 17, 2012, I emailed the owner of the firm - whom I'd been staying in contact with - a interesting link. He replied by telling me that business had slowed down and they no longer had the amount of work they needed to support my position.<br />
<br />
Reading that email, I could feel the bottom drop out of my stomach; I was devastated. What was I going to do? My last day of employment was 14 days away and suddenly I had nothing! I wanted to keep this from my wife - to quietly find a new job, then break the news to her once everything was alright. But I couldn't do it, I had to tell her. She was devastated as well.<br />
<br />
Back to the hunt. I called up a friend of mine who said his company might have a position I could try out for - though I haven't heard back yet - I designed and printed up business cards offering services as a freelance Graphic and Web Designer. I started hitting all the local print and design and computer businesses, hoping to generate leads.<br />
<br />
I decided to write a blog article about my experience. Maybe it would generate a lead or two. Maybe it would help someone else who was considering a move to freelance work; hopefully they can avoid the same stress that I have experienced.<br />
<br />
How will it turn out - Will I succeed? Will I fail? Do I have the skills and ability to provide for my family as a freelancer?<br />
<br />
That chapter has yet to be written.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14143452805171680347noreply@blogger.com4