What it Is

I have proven myself a failure at being consistent. Methinks this should be a place for me. Maybe not the collected me that makes sense. More like the me that likes to be. To wonder, to plan, to think, to understand. I want to write everyday. It is my hope that this is the blog that will facilitate that goal.

I dont make any promises. You could still call this my creative blog. But I'd like to think of it more as the debris that is left behind after all the normal thoughts blow through my consciousness.

Don't expect it to always make sense or be worth your time. I think the main goal if for it to be my sanity.

Mottled Light

Mottled Light
the way my mind feels sometimes, waiting for a breakthrough.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Entry Sixty-Six

Time for Spero. Revamped. Only one or two things are the same. But here is what I have so far.

This has not been edited. This is months of raw typing and writing. So I apologize to those of you who hate reading things with improper grammar.

This is a VERY ROUGH DRAFT.

Also, some things have changed since I started and may be different later on than they are in the beginning. Again, I apologize for this.

Mostly I just want to get this out there. Who cares about polishing at this point? The more time I spend polishing, the more distracted I get and then the story gets left behind.



Spero

Back Story

I think that I already kind of did this the first time that I started writing spero. I don’t know for sure. Hm. I am kind of cold down here. Time to go upstairs.

So, what causes the problems? Originally, it was a man who was intent on controlling the world. So he attacked the worlds universities. And it all went down hill from there. I don’t think that is remotely possible.

So here is what I am thinking. Mom read in National Geographic that Yellowstone is showing signs of possible exploding in some epic volcanic upsurge. It would be huge. And the ash and volcanic winter caused by it would spread across half the united states. Even a little into the Midwest. Possible Missouri.

Here is my thinking. This explosion occurs. Because of this millions are forced to leave their homes. It is impossible for the rest of the United States to support the surviving population. So a boarder is put up in Missouri. The rich are able to buy their way into homes across this boarder. Many who are able to afford it leave the country. Those who stay are only able to do so because of their financial stability. But the country pretty much goes into poverty. Much of the crops are destroyed and useless. What is left is bought up by companies as quickly as possible. Those farmers sit pretty because of the value of their land. The live in really nice houses and ignore the poverty around them. The East coast is home to the worst section of the country. The rich live on ranches that have electric fences built around them to keep the disgruntled poor out. Cities are breeding grounds for gangs, crime, Washington is a fortress and most believe that the government has abandoned them. Only working for those who are able to still pay taxes.

Columbia Mo is not the worst city out there. The worst by far are the big cities like Chicago, Philly, Memphis, St. Louis, New York, etc. But Columbia has it’s fair share of gangs and crime. One of them is the orphan gang known as The Grey Five. Known for breaking into the rich estates and stealing what they can. Run by Mama Bessie. She’s doesn’t sound very terrifying because she isn’t. She is kind but tough as nails. She takes in abandoned children and together they go in teams of 5 and break onto the properties of the rich. There they steal what they can. Mostly food, electronics, petty cash, blankets, shoes, clothes. They then are able to trade them to those who need them. For whatever they can give. They only ever steal what is necessary to survival. The electronics, they will sell to those willing to pay.

The cities are usually run by whichever gang is in highest power. In Columbia MO, this happens to be the Tigers (taking their name from the University of Missouri Tigers mascot. They have not lost their pride). They are strict, but fair in their control. The same can’t be said of other gangs in other, rougher cities. They allow Mama Bessie and The Grey Five to continue their larceny as long as it doesn’t draw unnecessary and dangerous attention from the authorities (in other words, as long as they don’t get caught.)

Most of the time, the cops are unwilling to see to the petty complaints of the rich. Most of the countries police forces are dispatched to bigger cities with more control problems. As it is, The Tigers of Columbia have an understanding with the small police forces.





At first there was nothing for the senses to comprehend but darkness. Pressing in on every side. Thick enough to take your breath away.

She couldn’t breathe. Fear and her temporary blindness saw to that. The fuzzy cotton that crowded away thought and memory instilled a panic in her, which made those first seconds of re-consciousness almost deadly. Once she found her breath, her sense of smell was assailed by rancid sweet. Death. It was obvious even then. No more than 24 hours later. Tears made her adjusting eyesight useless. Her throat constricted in protest against the stink and fear with grief made her air reserves rush out of her lings. They began to scream, crying for her to give them respite. In a final act of defiance to this bombardment of sensations, her stomach threw itself into her throat in an attempt to jettison from her body. She was sick all over herself and the floor in front of her.

[Mama, Papa]

She wanted to call out to them. She knew full well it was a cry that would not be returned. Their corpses now lay rotting not far away. She tried to push herself up to a sitting posistion. It wasn’t safe here. Her hand found itself in a cool, sticky liquid. Blood. She was sick again, less violently than before.

[Slow. Go slow. Get out.]

Once it was common knowledge that this place was the home of the dead, every gang would send a representative to ransack it and grab what they could. That would include her. There was always a market for pretty young girls.

[Slow. Don’t think. Just go.]

Trying to ignore the feel of blood between her fingers, she pushed against the floor to heave herself up.

Her hand slipped and she collapsed in a heap again.

She sobbed uncontrollably.

[Forget it. Let them come. Let them take me.]

All she could hear was her own weeping so at first no other sound was distinguishable.

“Psst!”

A rat no doubt. Come to gnaw the nose and toes off the bodies.

“Psst! Hey! You, girl!”

Not a rat. At least not in the literal sense.

She lifted her head. There was a light very suddenly in her eyes. She cried out.

“Sorry,” mumbled the voice.

She could only manage an unintelligible groan.

“C’mon. Stop crying.”

The light came closer. Her fear sparked muscle cooperation. She pushed herself up to a sitting position and used her feet to push away from the advancing light.

[He’s going to hurt me.]

“Take it easy, girl. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She could back up no further. His light full upon her now.

“Phew…you are a mess!”

[Leave me alone!]

She tried to say it out loud. All that came out was a ragged cry with no words.

“Shhh! Jeez! Do you want to call over every gang in the area?” The light moved and spanned the room. It stopped somewhere in the east corner.

“Oh, man. These were yours, huh?” He swore softly. The light came back.

“Look. You’re not safe here. I’m sure there’s a lackey from every gang on the beat on their way here now. Including the Tigers. If you come with me, I might be able to help you.”

[He’s lying. He’ll hurt you.]
She shook her head.

He sighed.

“Okay…um,…what’s your name, girl?”

[Don’t answer.]

She shook her head.

“Fine…well, my name is Knox. K-N-O-X. I was sent to see what I could gather of value. I don’t see much, so I’m gonna go.”

[Good. Go. Leave me alone]

He continued.

“If you come with me, I can help protect you. If you stay, you will no doubt be collected and sold as a sweetie to some gang leader.”

[He’s lying. He can’t protect me.]

“So what’s it gonna be, girl?”

[No. Go away. Let me die.]

He lowered his light.

[Maybe…]

Her fear of him was great. Her fear of becoming a sweetie was worse.

[A chance..yes. Maybe…]

Her lip trembled. She took several deep breaths, and swallowed. Trying to moisten her throat.

“Keera.” She whispered.

“What?”

A tear slid down her cheek. Her voice wavered.

“K-E-E-R-A. Keera.”

Knox chuckled. Took slow steps toward her.
“Okay Keera. Give me your hand.” He extended his left hand to her.

She shook her head.

“I give you my word. I wont hurt you.”

“No.” She said. “Blood.”

“What?”

She lifted her left hand. He shone his light on it, revealing the blood-covered appendage.

“Oh, sorry.”

She switched the light to his left hand and offered her his right.

[Wait]

“C’mon. We don’t have time.”

[Okay]

She took his offered hand. He pulled hard and in several moments, she was on her feet. Her knees buckled and she fell against the wall.

“Easy.” Knox had a soft voice. Soft and inviting.

He offered her his left hand again and took her right in his.

“We have to go quickly. It’s far. Don’t let go of my hand, okay Keera?”

She nodded.

“Alright, lets go.”

He took several steps and she followed him shakily. Then stopped.

“Wait.” She whispered.

“There’s no time.”

She looked at him. Couldn’t see his face in the darkness.

“Please.”

[Please…]

A sigh.

“Alright. Quickly.”

She made her way to the two corpses. Jennifer and Matthew Petri.

She knelt beside them. Took her fathers lifeless hand in her own and kissed it. She slipped his class ring off. She took her mothers wedding band. Pocketed them both. Touched her mothers hair. It was caked with blood. She wept.

[You have to go. Just go.]

“Goodbye.” She whispered. She stood and went to Knox. Took his hand again.

“Don’t let go,” he commanded

“I won’t.” He told him.

They walked out the broken door and out into the dark streets.


Knox grasped the hand of the girl Keera tightly. His hear went out to her. Her parents had been murdered. Brutally, by the looks of it. For some reason she had been spared. Pity was one possible reason. Negligence was more likely. The murderer thinking she was dead and not checking properly.

She was an orphan now. Doomed to live her days without a real family.

She stumbled often and could not move very swiftly. He did not push her, but moved as quickly as she would allow. They weaved through dark alleys, pushed through the city ruins. Once he had to help her scale a small brick wall. He took barely used paths to avoid detection. Once or twice they stumbled across some faction-less geezer who rattled their handout cans. Around the halfway point she began weeping again. There was a dark, well covered alley ahead. He led her to a stack of plastic crates and sat her down.

“Let’s rest here a bit.”

Know took a small pack off his back and rummaged inside for his bottled water and a thin strip jerky.

“Are you hungry?”

She shook her head. Her shoulders trembled.

He took his light out.

“Lets take a look at you, huh?”

He turned the setting to dim and directed the beam at her. She really was a horrible mess. There was vomit on her clothes and in her hair. Her left arm and hand were covered in blood.

“Is this yours?” he asked, pointing to the stain.

She shook her head.

He raised his light so that he could see her face. There was blood there too, and in her hair.

“What about that?” He nodded to her head. She reached a hand up and felt on her head gingerly. When her hand came to area with matted blood, she winced.

She nodded.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

She looked like she was trying hard to remember. It was then that he noticed just how young she looked.

“How old are you?” He asked gently.

“12.” Was her soft reply

12. She was still practically a child. He decided he needed to be blunt.

“Have you been violated?”

She looked down. And shook her head.

“Good.” Knox let his breath out. “Here.” He handed her the water bottle.

“It’s clean. You should drink it all if you can.”

He hesitated.

“Go on. Take it.”

Reluctantly, she reached out and accepted the bottle, opened it, and took a small sip. She must have accepted it wasn’t tainted or poisoned, because she drank the whole bottle quickly after that. She wiped a dribble off her chin, then slumped forward and rested her head in her hands.
Know wanted to leave her be, but he needed to know the circumstances of the situation. He needed to know just how hard the murderer would try to finish off what he started. He would like to think that this was a random hit, but the idea that her life had been spared for no reason was too improbable to ignore.

“Do you remember anything about what happened? Who attacked you?”

She didn’t look up. She was silent. It was too soon of course. He felt foolish for even asking.

“Sorry. Of course you don’t want to talk about it.”

She began to weep softly again.

(Great, Knox. Real smart.)

Stupid.

“Hey, look…I’m sorry. I…I didn’t mean to pry…”

He shook his head and looked away. Turned his attention to the dried meat he had bought. He wasn’t hungry but he ate to have something to do.

“My parents used to work at a ranch.” She spoke softly, grief in every syllable. Know stopped eating.

“Really?” Knox encouraged when it seemed she wouldn’t continue.

She nodded.

“They both worked in the household. My mother was a genius cook. Father was in school for computer science before Yellowstone. He worked for security. They didn’t know each other before they were recruited and sold by The Tigers to Kirk farms. They met there by chance. Mom, she was always so kind. And loving…”

He voice broke. She took a shuddering breath.

“She was stealing food from the kitchen to give to a stable hand being deprived of meals as punishment. Dad caught her on the cameras and confronted her. When she explained herself, he couldn’t bring himself to punish her. From then on, he covered for her and in time they fell in love. Some months later, mom got pregnant with me. The Master of the House, Kirk, got angry. So angry that he kicked them out onto the streets of Columbia. They were at the mercy of The Tigers then. I don’t know why, but they took my parents and I into the center city and never bothered us. Not until tonight. Tonight…”

She paused. Closed her eyes.
“It’s okay… you don’t need to.”

Of course he wanted her to. He needed to know was much as he could.

“I know.” She took a deep breath.

“Tonight, 3 men came. We weren’t prepared. We were just playing cards. Laughing. It’s cold enough that dad let us get a fire going. They came. They had guns and we had no way to defend ourselves. Mama cried out, ‘No. No. He promised.’ She yelled.”

She said the words with no emotion in her voice.

“I don’t know what she said that. They pointed their guns. Told us to shut up. Papa held mama and me. Held us close and shook. He was crying. He put something into my hand. ‘Don’t lose it,’ he whispered.

She held out a small plastic rectangle. Knox took it from her and recognized it as a data chip. From one of the computers that existed before. He examined it, then gave it back.

“They grabbed Papa. ‘You first’ they said. Shot him in the head. Twice. He fell. They grabbed Mama. Talked about selling her. ‘Too old’ one said. ‘Not too old for me.’ Said another. Mama cried. Kept saying, ‘he promised. He promised.’ They took her then…”

Here her voice broke and he could hear the sickness in her voice. Barely controlled rage, fear, anguish.

“…All three of them.”

She was sobbing. Knox wanted to stop her. He didn’t want to hear this. But he needed to know.

“They took turns. She screamed the whole time. While one took her, the other two held me. Made me…made me…”

Knox felt his throat constrict in a mix of sympathy and rage. She was only a child.

“They made you watch?”

She nodded silently.

“Jesus.”

He could tell it was taking all her effort not to be sick all over the ground. To keep talking.

“After, they threw her down. Her eyes were so blank. In the light of the fire I could see how dead they were. Like her soul was gone. She looked at me with those empty eyed. Those holes. ‘It’s okay’ she said. ‘Don’t be afraid. He promised.’ Then they shot her. They kicked her body next to Papa’s. I…”

She was reduced to silent weeping now. Nothing else came out. But he needed to know more.

“Why not you?” he asked. Hating himself for it.

She just shook her head.

He put his hand on her knee and she jumped.

“Sorry.” He removed it. Stared intently at her.

He thought he should just leave her be.

(I can’t. )

She could be very dangerous or very profitable. He had to know.

“Keera, why not you?” He asked again. Her head shot up. Her eyes burned white hot.

“I don’t know!” She shouted.

“Shhh!!”

“NO! What do you want from me? They said that they wanted me alive! Needed me alive!”

“Keera, you have to keep your voice down.”

He looked frantically around. They had not attracted anyone yet. But if she kept yelling…

She stopped yelling, but her voice held as much anger as if she were.

“One of them said that I had to be kept alive! They knocked me out! The next thing I know I wake up in darkness, alone.”

(Shit.)

“Then you showed up.” She finished.

“Great. That complicates things.”
“What. Would it make it easier on you if I had been captured and sold as a sweetie?”

“What? No! I just…I was hoping…”

“I don’t know anything else!”

“Okay fine.”

(Geez. Okay. Let me think.)

“I just hoped you would know more about why you were left behind. It could be you’re wanted or it could be they were just careless. I just wanted to know how likely it is that we are aggressively followed. I guess we’ll never know.”

“So…you think that maybe they came for me? For more than just selling me as a sweetie? I mean, what…what could they want me for? Why…?”

(Stupid)

He had managed to piss her off and then completely freak her out in a matter of minutes.

“Look, it’s probably nothing. Just a couple of idiots too incompetent to finish the job they were sent to do.”

(Not likely).

He knew there was a very good reason she was left alive. You don’t send 3 guys to slaughter a family that small and harmless. Chance is something about this girl was valuable. Or maybe it had to do with that chip. Maybe.

“C’mon. We need to get moving again.”

She didn’t rise.

“Where are you taking me?” She was terrified. Of course she was.

“Someplace safe.” He assured her.

She still remained sitting.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

He sighed.

(You don’t really have much of a choice, that’s why)

“You don’t. You’re gonna have to decide right now if you trust me or not.”

She looked down at her legs. They were trembling. She was trembeling.

“How much further?”

“A few miles.”

She shook her head. Sniffeled.

“I don’t think I can make it that far.”

She was very weak, he could see that. She may be right. But he couldn’t in good conscience leave her here alone now. He rose and then sat down beside her, offered her his hand for the third time.

“I’ll help you,” he said.

She looked over at him. Doubting.

“Please. I can’t leave you here alone.”

“Why are you helping me?”

(Why? Because no one deserves the fate you’d be resigned to if I left you alone.)

“Because I want to.” It was the truth, and he hoped she could hear that in his voice.

(Okay? Please)

Another beat.

“Okay.” She took his hand. Gripped it hard.

They went on. She stumbled, but less often. Made no sound. They passed less people as they got closer to the outskirts of the city. Everyone in this part of town stayed inside at night.

They were shadows and he doubted even the desperates would notice them. Sometime later, they came to a place in their road where the huts were few and far between. There was a lot of open space. Desperates were watchful in places like these. He stopped in the shadow of an old gas station and pointed.

“About 1 more mile that way. But we have to be careful. Just keep hold of my hand and you’ll be fine.”

Here there were several old businesses. No longer running. Home to who knows. They were the only shelter. The best way was to keep running from one building to another. If you had to stop, stay in the shadows.

“We’re going to have to run. There’s no good place to stop until we reach that dump-station ½ a mile away. Can you make it?”

She looked unsure.

“I wont let go of you okay?”

She took a deep breath.

“Okay. I’m ready.”

So they ran. One shadow to another. He didn’t even bother to look behind him. He would be able to hear the desterates if they were there. And if they were there and you could hear them, you had little chance anyway. She didn’t stumble once though her breath became very shallow. He gripped her hand hard and she gripped back. They managed to reach the dump site without incident. He stopped. She was panting. Her breath ragged. She wasn’t used to this much running. His own breathing was only a little shallow. He’d had a lot more practice than this.

“We can rest a bit.” He let go of her hand. She sank to the ground, gasping.

“If they saw us…won’t they know…we’re here?” She said between breaths. Her voice trembled.

“Yes. If they saw us. But if they saw us, it wouldn’t matter how fast we ran or where we went.”

She nodded. Taking deep breaths to calm her heart.

“You’ve never seen a desperate, have you?” He asked.

“No. Have you?”

He didn’t answer right away. It was a dark, unwelcome memory.

“Not up close. You see one up close, you’re dead.”

He looked away from her.

“They killed my parents.”

A long pause while her breathing became normal.

“You’re an orphan.” She said softly.

“So are you.” He replied.

They looked at each other. An understanding. He thought he could see trust in her eyes now.

They sat for a while longer. Nothing stirred.

“They must be elsewhere tonight.” He said, relieved.

(Thank God. If there is a God in this world anymore.)

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

He pointed again as he peered around the pile of junk that hid them.

“Look.”

She came and looked. He pointed to a large white house that stood alone. Seemingly unprotected. About ½ a mile off.

“There is home.”

“How is it standing unprotected?”

He hesitated.

“I can’t tell you. Not right now.”

“What?”

“It’s…confidential information.”

She scoffed.

“Okay James Bond.”

“Who?”

She sighed.

“Never mind.”
“Do you trust me?” He asked.

She didn’t answer.

“Keera, do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

He took out his light and held it around the heap of junk. He made a series of flashings then stopped and waited. An old form of communication. Morse code. He peered around the pile. From the house there was a similar series of flashes.

“What…” She started to ask.

“Shh!” He commanded.

All clear.

He held out his hand again. She took it.

“We have to go fast. There are no shadows. We’ll be exposed.”

She looked unsure again.

“What if I fall? What if I can’t do it?”

“You can do it. I told you before. I wont let go of you.”

“You won’t leave me behind?”

He didn’t answer right away. What if she did fall? What if he couldn’t get her back up and a Desperate did show? Would he risk his life for this complete stranger? Her hand trembled in his. She was still bloody from her encounter.”

(Yes. I would.)

She didn’t deserve to die that way.

“I won’t leave you behind.” He promised. “We have to go now. Quickly. We’re almost there.”

“Lets go then.” She said.

And they were running again. The ground between the junk pit and the house was pitted with holes. He avoided them as much as possible. The house grew closer. Then she hit a hole and stumbled. She fell and cried out.

They heard. From behind them came a triumphant, cry.

(Oh shit)

She gasped. He pulled her up, hard.

“Faster.” He whispered. “Don’t look behind you.”

They ran faster. He could hear steps behind him. Not too close yet, but faster. At least one set. An animalistic sound. His heart turned cold. They had found them.

“We have to stay far ahead. We can’t let it get close.” He said through great gasps of breath.

The house was close now. Only about 50 meters away. But his hand was jerked out of hers as she fell again. She cried out in pain.

(No!)


“Keera!” He dashed to her.

“My ankle!”

“C’mon!” He looked up and he could see it. The Desperate. There was only one. But one was enough. He was close and would be on the quickly.

“Keera, c’mon!” He pulled. She stood and took a step.

“No, wait…ow! I cant!”


She could barely walk.

The desperate was running and closing on them.

“Go!” She yelled.

“I said I wouldn’t!” He pulled her up and put her arm around his shoulder.

“Just keep your weight off it. Quickly.”

“It’ll catch us!”

“C’mon! Just keep moving.”

A few more steps and there was a snarl. He felt a ragged hand grab his arm. He cried out as he was stopped and Keera fell forward. Instinctively, he kicked out. He heard a satisfying crunch and the Desperate snarled in pain. But it didn’t let go. He kicked out again. Another impact. It still held firm. It pulled him to the ground. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and screamed in pain. It was biting into his flesh.

“Keera, run for the house!” He yelled. He tried to free himself. No success. He thrust his head back and struck the desperate in the face. It howled and released his shoulder. But it still held fast to his arm. It all seemed hopeless.

“Go!” He yelled at Keera, again.

They were suddenly flooded in a brilliant blinding light. A spotlight. The Desperate screamed and released him fully for a second. It was enough. He rushed forward and grabbed Keera, who was on her knees crying. He half dragged, half carried her several meters forward and then collapsed. They were about 40 feet away from the porch of the house.

“Knox. C’mon. We have to keep moving. It’s coming around!” Keera was panicked. The spotlight was still on the desperate who was screaming in frustration but it was starting to move out of the light.

“Knox!” She pulled on him.

He didn’t move.

“Stop pulling me. We’re fine.”

“What?!?”

“Just watch.” He grasped her hand so she wouldn’t leave.

“Knox…”

“Just watch.”

She looked at him, incredulous. The Desperate was out of the light now and was running towards them again. Closer.

Closer.

It was 10 feet away when it suddenly it stopped like it had hit a wall. It fell backward. Did not rise.

Keera gasped.

“What happened?”

He didn’t answer.

“Is it dead?”

“No. Stunned.”

“But what…”

“It doesn’t matter right now. We’re safe.” He lay back on the ground breathing.

“You’re bleeding.”

He smiled.

“Yeah.”

(But I’m alive)

Their conversation was interrupted. The door to the house opened and several figures rushed out.

They were all dressed in dark colors. Their faces hidden. There were 5 of them and they surrounded him and Keera. They were holding crude weapons. Pipes, clubs, one held a knife.

“Explain yourself!” A voice cried out.

From the ground, he answered, “I come from hell in search of refuge. A lonely soul abandoned.”

“And the girl?”

They were all tense and waiting.

“The girl is with me. I’d appreciate it if you would lower your weapons.”

4 of the 5 complied. The one holding the knife was still tensed.

“You know we have to be cautious. How do we know this girl isn’t dangerous?”
He recognized the female voice. His jaw clenched.

“Because I am saying she’s not.” He insisted.

“And what was that anyway? That was the worst crossing I’ve ever seen. You could have let the desperate in.” She wasn’t going to relent.

“Claudia. Please. I’m tired. I’m bleeding. I’d like to go inside now. I would appreciate a little less aggression.”

“Whatever.” She said and lowered her knife.

Knox pushed himself to his feet and winced at the pain in his arm. Keera got to her feet. Everyone tensed and clutched their weapons. Knox moved to her side protectively.

“Rocky, would you help her get inside? She sprained her ankle.”

One the figures shook his head.

“No way. Why me? Why don’t you help her?”

“Are you kidding? C’mon. Just help her will you?”

(Don’t test me…)

“I can manage.” Keera said softly.

“See? She’s fine. Lets go.” The one called Rocky insisted.

Knox looked over at her. She looked terrified and stood close to him.

“You sure?”

She nodded quickly. The others had already started moving towards the house.

“Okay, come on then.”

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