Hulle there, Sparks.
Here we have a nice big fat juicy one. I hope you like it.
Last time, I got a little sappy and told you some things you didn’t need to know about me. Let me just say that it was inspired (somewhat indirectly) by a comment on a previous episode, and here I am, faced yet again with the choice between letting myself be at peace with what’s done being done, or let my mind be racked by regret over sharing something personal with strangers in a place where you can never really take anything back.
At least that was what I was thinking, until I got your comments.
Now, I just want to reiterate how grateful I am for every one of you wonderful people. You guys are the little flashes that ignite my imagination, allowing me to light up and express with the utter freedom of the creativity that threatens to burst this small bottle of a brain I have some days.
Thanks for being here. Thanks for sticking with me, and thanks a thousand times for being the kind, supportive, generous, individuals that you are! You mean more to me than you can ever know and I couldn’t keep doing this without you guys.
Oh, I forgot to say last time, about the new graphics. You’ll notice Misty’s bridge is crumbling and her presence seems a little more like smoke than mist, as if it’s burned down. I promise it’ll make more sense as we go along, but to give you an idea…
Has anyone here ever heard of Kelly’s Heroes?
Here’s a trailer, if you like. It’s a very old movie, some soldier thing, that has little to do with anything here, other than a song I remember from it, called Burning Bridges, which you can check out here.
Now, I know that one’s takeaway from movies and music is a very subjective thing, but this one was my big brother’s favorite for years when we were kids, and the song has stuck with me all my life. Every time I’m faced with a big decision or a significant change, it seems to play on repeat in my mind, reminding me that in order to move forward I have to commit to leaving the past behind and also that once a choice is made, there’s often no going back.
As for our story…
INDEX | Chapter 8 | Scene 1 | Scene 2 | Scene 3 | Scenes 4 & 5 | Scenes 6 & 7 | Next Scene → Coming soon.
Previously: Tom’s plan is laid out in detail, and having thought of every angle and considered all possible outcomes, our guys are ready to put it into action. Meanwhile, Elle is restless. There’s a storm brewing and she can’t sleep. After trying and failing to force herself to relax, she decides to block out everything around her and tire herself out instead. Then, just after two in the morning, she hears a commotion outside.
There is a small clearing about two kilometers from the base, that’s a perfect rendevous point. The full moon lights the ground like daylight, reflected off of the heavy clouds as they roll in from the mountains, we’ll be losing the light soon. Tom, Luke, and I come in from the north, flying low, craftless, among the treetops to avoid radar detection, just like we practiced. It’s a little slow with Luke’s limited independent flight ability, but stealth is more important right now, so slow is fine.
Everything is ready when we touch down with the first snowflakes. Luke is still wearing his tuxedo, dashing in charcoal and black, and almost invisible in the shadows. He has used his talents to ensure that the other dignitaries at the gala will keep seeing him at intervals throughout the night, so he won’t be missed.
Tom and I slipped overboard this afternoon after a long morning of being seen partying hard enough to warrant an early night and crept onto the docks at dusk without anyone noticing. Now we are wearing black bodysuits made from an experimental fabric similar to spandex, that fits like a second skin and is supposed to be energy-tolerant since normal synthetics usually go up in smoke if we aren’t careful. It’s cold, but that won’t matter for long.
There’s no time now for conversation, we all know what to do.
Luke holds up his flask of Fire and whiskey, in a silent toast and drains it in one go, then takes off in a flat-out sprint, while Tom and I take a casual trot. Luke worked for weeks to get his time down to just over eight minutes for the two-kilometer distance which isn’t bad for a forty-year-old human, and by the time the moonlight finally gets blocked out completely, we reach the chainlink fence at the edge of our cover.
Tom and I stop in the shadow of the trees and grin at one another. I stash the pack of supplies we brought for the freed prisoners in a conveniently hollowed-out log close by, as Tom snips a hole in the fence for our escapees. Then I loosen the straps of my anti-static backpack to fish out my tab. The special compartment should protect it from any electric surges.
Bringing up the surveillance cameras for the base, it’s a simple matter of replacing the live camera feed with a recording from earlier in the week. I’m already inside the system courtesy of our good friend Joel, whose recent disillusionment with the PG has put him squarely on our side of things, and hey presto! Radio signals jammed, and alarms disabled. We are good to go as soon as Luke is.
“Hey, Tom, in case something happens in there-” I start to say. Tom shakes his head and tries to cut me off, saying I should tell him afterward, but I barrel on, knowing that if I don’t say this now, I never will.
“No, I know. I just want to say, thanks, for finding her. And I’m sorry for being such an ass about it.” I cringe at how cheesy I sound, but Tom simply smiles all the wider, reaches over and pulls me into a hug.
“You know I love you bro,” He breathes into my ear just as Luke comes up behind us, panting and puffing to get his breath back. Old man.
“I heard that,” Luke says between breaths, with just a hint of amusement. The wind is blowing quite strongly now, and snow is starting to come down in flurries. It’s going to get bad out here soon. Feeling the cold, I fish out a heavy coat from the prisoners’ bag. One less for them, but they’ll have to make do.
Luke shrugs it on without argument and pulls on his gloves before settling into his position. He kneels, palms open in his lap, and head bowed. Just inside the shadow of the trees, motionless, with a blizzard taking shape around him, he’ll be all but invisible. I just hope he’ll be warm enough.
I look at my brother, allowing his excitement to bolster my own, and brace myself for the full force of Luke’s influence. It unfurls like a wave and almost takes my breath away. Even broadcast, it is shockingly powerful with his Fire’s boost and total focus. I can’t help but feel the lull and unnatural calm as it passes me by. I doubt any overtired guard at the end of their graveyard shift will be able to resist.
“You two have five minutes, seven tops. Make it count.” Luke’s disembodied voice echoes in our linked subconscious.
If our intel is accurate, there should be around four hundred and fifty people here. Luke’s abilities are profound, but they have their limits. He won’t be able to completely control so many but he can deepen the sleep of some, make others relax and slow their reflexes, dampen their suspicions to a point. It’s not fail-proof, and it will probably give out without warning, but it’s better than relying solely on stealth. Since there was no way for us to get a message to anyone here ahead of time without risking the entire mission, we have no way of knowing if the others will cooperate. It’ll take quick work and a lot of luck to pull off this crazy scheme.
Tom and I slip in the hole he just made in the fence and walk casually, side-by-side between the guard towers through the courtyard, as if we belong there, and manage to get halfway across before anyone notices. This is the fun part of the plan. When we get to let our true selves out a bit, and its something we’ve only done a handful of times in our lives.
“Ahoy there, what unit are you guys?” Someone shouts from above, and then there’s light.
Tom winks at me and goes golden in an instant as he turns and rushes his target. He really is striking when fully powered up. His hair bursts out of its braids into a long mane flowing down his back, with the characteristic Manorian glow. An electrical storm surrounds him, clearly visible against the black bodysuit, which seems to be holding, despite the high-level energy release. No one besides Luke has ever seen us like this. Very few people even know we can do it. There’s no way anyone will link this to us.
Before Tom gets to the foot of the nearest guard tower, I am at the opposite one, all lit up myself, and the cold becomes a distant thing that can no longer touch me. My vision sharpens as I hop lightly up my twenty-meter tower in a single bound and I know my pupils have turned blue and grown to engulf my irises. Pulling myself over the balustrade, I feel my sinews taughten as my already muscular form takes on the ripped leanness of a bodybuilder.
The guard before me is frozen with shock, his eyes flitting between me and Tom on top of the other tower. I can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind. Even though Tom would still be a little bigger, I know that this is the only time he and I look identical. It probably looks like we are the same person, in two places at once.
I flash an evil grin at the poor human before me and knock him out with a tap on the head while the remaining towers swing their flood lights around, the courtyard, trying and failing to pinpoint the source of the disturbance their comrades called out. Two more well-timed bounds, the mirror image of each other, and floodlights go dark as the remaining guard towers are taken out of play.
I watch Tom hop down and step inside the larger of the two buildings and let my energy level sink back to normal, then crouch down out of sight as I grab my tab from its special pocket and bring up the live camera feed and schematic controls.
The noise outside awakens my senses as a blinding flash of lightning splits the sky. Immediately my mind is flooded with a nearly overwhelming rush of input, from the position of every guard and prisoner in the building to their strength and level of alertness. Three hundred and three prisoners, five awake, three are not where they are supposed to be, which is odd since the guards are where they are supposed to be, though they seem to be sleeping.
I’m still trying to make sense of it, while thunder rumbles low and loudly, rattling the roof sheets overhead, and wind howls around the corners of the building. The storm is intensifying.
As I come to terms with my detailed mental map, I notice another presence approaching, and when I recognize it I’m struck by a flood tide of memories and doubts that hold me captivated for long minutes, until there’s a scuffle in the hall. That someone is at my door.
Do I attack, or let him in?
Next Time: Guided by Logan, Tom rushes through the facility, handing instructions over to the prisoners he frees as he looks for Elle, but time is short when Luke reaches the limits of his influence, and Logan has to improvise to buy Tom some more time. When Misty figures out who is behind her door, she must decide whether or not to go with him.
Thanks so much for reading! If you like, please:
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and as always, I love hearing what you think so, feel free to:
Amazing, as always!
Incredibly well done, I feel like I want to buy the movie Once you have it made, and I need a nap now because of yet another damn Cliffhanger I've got to wait more time than I want to to get closure from :)