0 comments/ 17390 views/ 2 favorites smokeSCREEN : bookpHOR By: Riven___Caulfield smokeSCREEN bookFOUR : THEbecoming * * * part ii : the coffin nail * * * whenever i'm alone with you you make me feel like i am home again whenever i'm alone with you you make me feel like i am / whole again * * * * * * The flashlight bobs and I throw the heavy blankets across the bare army-surplus mattress. "I really don't need the mattress," I say. "You'll sleep on it and like it," Michelle tells me. Here in the sub-basement – which I'm hoping Crow has given up – perhaps I can get some rest before sorting things out in the morning. "Thanks for being cool," I tell her. "Yeah, well – that's me," she says. "No – hey." I reach out for her arm, but find her cheek. It's pretty dark. "I appreciate it," I say. She holds the flashlight out to the side, pointed at us so I can see half of her face, and she can see half of mine in the blackness. "I know," she says. "Go to sleep – I'll come back for in the morning." She's already standing to leave, but I know I don't want to sleep. "Hey – hang back," I say. She stops and turns. "You awake enough for a chat?" "A short chat?" "I didn't really think about it. I just… wanted to sit back and talk like we used to." Even in the blackness, I can see her grin as she nods. "Want some gossip?" "Sure." "Cat's pulling two months in the kitchens for betraying the floor," she says, crossing her legs as she sits on the mattress next to me. "Good." "I'm really sorry about everything with Crow-" "You don't have to say that," I tell her. "That's between me and Crow. Let's think of… happier times." She laughs – sort of. "Yeah? Like when?" "Like when we sat up on the Tower roof, lookin' at the stars." "You remember that?" she cocks her head to the side. "'Course I do." For a moment we're blinded by the light of my Zippo as I burn the end of a cigarette. Why does she have to be so damn beautiful? Closing the lighter, I take a long drag. "Yeah, well – all I see is blackness and a bouncing cherry." I hold the cigarette in my mouth as I find the foil from my pack and an old first aid needle. "…what are you doing?" "Poking holes in this foil." "…why?" I press the foil over the head of the flashlight and turn it on, setting it down so it shines up at the celing. "…oh my God…" "Orion, Scorpio, the Big Dipper and the North Star," I say. "…you got the right placement and everything." I twist the flashlight, covering half with a thumb. "Look – now it's summer – now it's winter. Now it's summer – now it's winter." She's laughing. Christ, sometimes it is so great just to hear someone laughing. "Man, I missed having you around," she says. "I missed being around," I nod. And now her lips graze my cheek in a peck. But not quite a peck. Something softer. Something that lingers. "So what's sex like?" she asks. "Pardon?" "I've accepted that I'm not getting it – I want to know what it's like." And now I'm laughing. "I'm not comfortable with that." "Why not?" "Because that's… between me and Crow," I say. "Crow's abandoned you," she reminds me. The edge of her hand grazes the edge of mine. And stays there. // Crunch. Crunch. The gravel under my sandals. poor child, back already? The Wolf's huge, shaggy head rises to greet me as I reach the summit. "We're the same age," I remind him. perhaps – but I have more poise He falls onto his hindquarters. what is your dilemma? "I really want to." what makes you think she'd have you? "Call it faith." the simple fact is you should be with michelle you loved her first. "Doesn't hold weight," I shake my head, but he softly slaps his big tail against the ground. not with logic no, the Wolf says. Peircing, glowing, welcoming red eyes. but nevertheless it may be true you believe it don't you. "I shouldn't," I say. but you will smokeSCREEN : bookpHOR "What?" Footsteps. "Wait – you don't know anything about this?" "What messenger about what? What's going on?" Flaslights bob down the hallway ahead of us. "Shhhit," he hisses. We get to the back of the Market and crouch in the shadows. "Last night, about twenty minutes after you showed up, an old one came." "Came to where? To here?" He nods. "She talked to us, then to someone across at the Terminal. She came back last night to make sure about…" "Rich, spit it out." "I found them!" someone shouts behind us. I turn as a fists finds my jaw and go sprawling to the floor. People are shouting. Someone's hitting me again. // Get up – you have the sword. "I'm tired." Then let me. "Fuck that- // I'm already lunging, throwing punches. One of them goes down, but something nails me in the back of the head. Feels like a baseball bat. And my body pitches forward. I'm falling. Falling. Falling. // until my face hits white and black pebbles, before a huge dark paw. see now, he says, where those you trusted deliver you * * * ATTN Reader:   It is at this point that we offer an apology, and editorial commnt.   Our publisher demands that certain affairs be delivered in this chatper, but during Cypress's stay at the Forks Market, matters continue to escalate at the Terminal.   We therefore break with convention to honor the Story, and present you with what we have termed The Montage, as the events of August Twenty-Fourth are revealed through a series of 'patchwork' accounts. Enjoy.   -The Editors * * * * * * whenever I'm alone with you you make me feel like I am free again whenever I'm alone with you you make me feel like I am clean again * * * * * * michelle : Someone meets him at the doors. A tall handsome man with black hair and a large shotgun. The Duster leads him away into the darkness of the Market and the doors close. I step back into the Terminal and light a smoke. Kerri and Chloe are staring at me. Kerri's a Beta and Chloe's a Ceta – from floor ten. They're usually stuck to each other's hip. "…what?" I say. "…is it true?" Kerri asks. "Is what true?" I look to Chloe, and she looks away before saying, "That he's gone forever?" "No, of course not," I tell them. They nod to each other and start walking away. "Wait," I call. "Who told you that?" "Diane." "Who'd Diane hear it from?" "From Kim." "And where'd Kim hear it?" "Saku," Chloe says, as Kerri slugs her once in the arm. "Idiot," Kerri hisses. I nod. "Thanks." * * * Lisa sits crosslegged on a heap of old pillows in a clothing store. She's cleaning her rifle. "I heard a rumor," I tell her. "Oh yeah?" she grins up at me. "What's that?" "Someone said Cypress isn't coming back from the boys." Glancing up at me, she's trying to guage my feelings on this. But I just stare back at her. And she's got to explain herself; "He abandoned us," she says. "For Crow, of all people!" "He didn't abandon us – he came back." "For her." "For all of us. And what's wrong with Crow, all of a sudden?" She narrows her eyes at me. "Why are you defending her? Or him?" she snaps. "Because they haven't done anything wrong – why isn't Cypress coming back?" And now she pauses. "It's a long story," she says. "I've already heard one long story today, I'm well-prepared for another." "Then sit down," she tells me. "But it's already too late." "…what did you do?" "Somebody get some beers!" she shouts. Then, nodding at me. "We'll need beer." * * * sophia : She's been sobbing all morning. She was crying in her sleep. "…and that's it. I'm past the second step," she says, sitting up and wiping her face. But I don't understand – "What steps?" "Well first I was in disbelief – that was before I saw them in bed together? Then I went into mourning." She's wiping her face. Hard. "Now I'm… give it time…" She falls back – those sharp black spikes falling against her shoulders. "Crow…" "How could he fuck Michelle?" she says now. "Well, of course he fucked Michelle. Fucker!" "Crow?" "Anger! That must be the third step… anger…" She's finding herself a smoke. How come I'm never on the bed? How come someone else is always on the bed, and I'm always on the floor or the chair beside it? "Crow!" "What?" she snaps I nod towards my twin hand cannons on the desk in the corner. "I'll bet you every round I have for the Eagles that Cypress never touched Michelle." She narrows her eyes. "How would you know?" And panick. Panick is setting in. Awful stuff, panick. It makes you feel like you'd rather be dead, than wherever you are. But I'm breathing. And I'm breathing. "I'm just… sure of it," I tell her. Shit, my voice is shaking again. I should just tell her. I should tell her, and then it would be out. And then everyone would know. Everyone. "It doesn't matter what you say – I saw them in bed together. Fuck her – fuck him – fuck them both – hope they're happy fuckin' together!" "Look, it's okay, really-" "Naw, Sophie. No, you don't get it." "He loves you," I say. But she sits up. Her eyes are so cold. I mean, I know everyone always says that. But you won't understand it 'till you look at her. And what makes it worse is, then she says; "Love? That's just a fuckin' word. That means shit. What we feel? And what he feels? Not the same thing!" all without blinking. But I shake my head. "No, he really does." "How would you know?" She's just staring at me. Staring at me. And I get the feeling she can see me – she's picking me apart through my layers of baggy cloth. And I pull my hat town, shielding my eyes from hers. "Ah – fuck you all," she says, kicking her legs over my head to hop off the bed. With a whiny moan, the door comes ajar to reveal Michelle. I get so used to looking at people's bottom halves, sometimes I forget what they look like. I know Michelle by her boots and cargo camis. "Sophie," Michelle says. "Yeah?" "C'mon – the Tower needs you." "What?" "And Crow – I'll meet you up in your room on the fifth." "Naw – fuck you, Michelle." …whoah. "Ex-cuuze me?" Michelle drawls. "Sophie; I'll meet you in the bar. Crow; sit the fuck down." But Crow just pushes past me, towards the door. "Awww… do you really love him, Red?" But what's Michelle going to say to that? Everyone does. "Sit down, Crow." "Did he say it back? Did he tell you that? Did he whisper it while he tugged at your sweater?" Crow's pouty little lips, all up in Michelle's face. …what is she talking about? But Michelle looks horrified. The thought finally occurs to me; Maybe Cypress did sleep with Michelle. "Sophie – get out," the Alpha snaps. "No – I'm leaving," Crow says. "No you're-" Michelle stops her with a hand on the shoulder, but the twin barrels of Crow's shooter appear at the redhead's throat. Huh. I nod to myself. Yeah – that would hurt. At least they're not staring at me. But Michelle lets Crow slip away. And then she closes the door. And she turns to me. "Do you remember your rulebook, Sophie?" she says. "Yeah – why?" "Of all the medics out here – who's ranked highest?" "Field medics?" "Yeah." "Me," I point a thumb at my chest. And Michelle's just nodding. "Yeah," she says. Grinning. "Yeah." "…why?" "Do you know where Cypress is, Sophie?" she asks. What a strange question. * * * * * * i am the son / and the heir / of a shyness that it criminarilly vulgar you shut your mouth // how can you say / i go about things the wrong way i am human and i need to be loved // just like everybody else does // see, i've already waited too long // and all my hope is gone * * * * * * 'cypress' : scratchscratchscratch snnnnnifflehufflesniffff… scratchscratchscratch The ring sits on the far side of the room, caught in the shaft of light from the single window in the room. The tiny thing – about fourteen by ten inches – sits high up slightly off center in the far wall. At first – an hour ago. The light hadn't been touching the ring. Then, it touched it. Just grazed it. Then it held it. And the wolf has been scratching at that door the entire time. It's hard to meditate when your repressed childhood savagery is trying like the dickens to get in. So meditating is out. I pull off my boot and open up the heel, removing the small baggie of white powder. scratchscratchscratchscratch His long wolf-claws, scraping – trying to get under the metal door. Scraping at the concrete floor. I lick my pinkie. His barks echoe through the room – it's deafening. I dip the pinkie in the powder – his body slamming against the door – and slip the pinkie under my tongue. smokeSCREEN : bookpHOR "The leader ring." "Well – just listen. Now Cypress's dad was big into meditation. So he starts teaching Cypress to meditate when he's like, four years old. Now in these meditations, Cypress's father introduced him to the idea of like, a power animal." "A what?" I cock my head to the side at her. "In a meditation – it's something that just comes to you, and there's no explanation for it. Cypress's power animal was this huge black wolf – red eyes. "When did he tell Michelle this?" "Well, Michelle says he was super upset last night and he just wanted to talk, and she asked him. And…" Sophie's not sure if she should be saying this. "And he told her," she says. "Anyway – the black wolf with red eyes – creepy, I know. Anyway, Cypress meditates and sees this wolf thing more and more. And soon he starts talking to it. And the wolf says he's there to protect Cypress. If Cypress is ever scared or angry or hurt – to give all those bad feelings to the wolf. And the wolf will take care of them. Thing is, though, after the war? The wolf's not as friendly as he was. He's always tellin' Cypress to do weird shit, like kill Jessie and take the Westwood crown and shit." "Trippy," I say, nodding. "Oh, just wait," Sophie holds up a hand to me. "But still, whenever Cypress got really upset or something, he could just – he calls it "snapping away". So let's say you're bitching at him, right? He gets pissed, snaps away, chats with the wolf for – whatever – fifteen minutes – comes back and it's the same fuckin' second. And he goes and talks to the wolf a lot after the war. Now, two years after the war, Cypress has the dream. Don't ask – listen; The dream is this;" * * * 'cypress' : I've been trading back and forth between the ring in my pocket and listening to his whispers, to the ring on the floor and hearing him scratch. Right now it's in my pocket. I've taken to not responding to him – but it hasn't worked. I'm having trouble handling it. In the meantime, I'm finding a way to escape in order to occupy my thoughts. There are no vents, aside from the window – the wiring in the celing is impossible to get to, and I can't find a way to open the door – it opens out into the hall. That's left me with the only other objects in the room – two large crates. Of course, I'm praying for explosive. Weapons. Blades. It takes me a half an hour to get the first board off, and inside, I discover stores of glasses. I sigh. But the wolf whispers; come on McGuyver there's got to be something you can do with glass I sit for a while and think over the crates. First I pull everything out and stare at it for a while. Hundreds and hundreds of water glasses. A few hundred wine glasses. Highballs. Rock tumblers. Hm. Around a thousand glasses, in all. Covering a third of the floor. Making it hard to walk around. I look at the door. It opens out into the hallway. Hm. * * * bethany 'crow' : "…and, the wolf turns to him and there's like, fire in the wolf's eyes – and the wolf says 'kill 'em all'!" Sophie says. "…and then what?" I lean in. The midafternoon Sun is pretty hot. "Then, nothing – then he wakes up," she tells me. "So that's the end of the dream," I say. But she shakes her head. "Here's where it gets… a little weird; The wolf is dying to know the ending to the dream, for some reason. But Cypress is too scared – he always wakes up at that point. Now the ring is important because a lot of times when Cypress and his dad meditated, they focused on the ring like it was a crystal. It's really important to Cypress like that. But, okay – so three years after the war, right? One day Cypress is in a fix and he can't handle it. The wolf asks if Cypress wants help – Cypress says yes." "…what does the wolf do?" I whisper. I don't know why. "He didn't say," Sophie shrugs. "But Jessie is so terrified by what happens, he claims Cypress's ring as a show of strength. The next day we attack them and take the ring from Jessie. Cypress is so ashamed of what he did, he vows to never listen to the wolf again." "Ten years ago," I say. Sophie's nodding. "But lately it's been reappearing." And I'm nodding. He did say something about a wolf last night… "And sometimes, since we gave him the ring back, he's been snapping away to talk with it. Now – apparantly – last night Cypress snapped away. Only things didn't freeze – they kept going and he doesn't remember it. Like the wolf… took over." "…what happened?" "I don't know – but Cypress needs help." I stare at her for a long, long time. "Yeah, that sure is a decent yarn, Soph." I gather myself to my feet – I feel like a walk. Sophie's already up, snapping at my heels. "It's not a yarn – I saw some of it, it's true. And Michelle-" I spin and warn her. Just my eyes. And she nods. "It's true,' she says again. Fuck that. And I lean in, narrowing my eyes at her. "What exactly do you know about it?" I ask. "Got something to say?" She's staring at me like she's been gut-punched, quaking from tip to toe. "…I… Iwasgettingoff intherestaurant," she whispers. Cypress got to her. Shaking, shaking. "You're lying," I say. "Look at you – you're fuckin' vibating!" "No, it's true!" she shouts. And now, the petite sk8ter seizes me at the shoulders and shakes me. "You have to belive me, it's the truth, that's the way it works!" "No – he told you to lie for him!" And I stalk off away up the hill, nearing the wide concrete piazza. She follows me, relentlessly, into the neutral piazza, and onto the huge old circular skating rink at the center. Recently huge cracks in the concrete have been bursting forth with dark soil. Green grass. A few forget-me-nots. Funny – I didn't think they grew around here. "Why have you decided to hate him so much?" Sophie's barking at me. "Who?" I say. "Cypress!" she barks. I shrug. "Cypress who? "You don't mean that," "No – y'know what? Fuck him! I said it – fuck Cypress!" "But he's yours!" Sophie's saying. As if I've gone completely irrational. "How can you just walk away? What do you want?" I light a cigarette. "You know what? I want a sign from God," I say. She rolls her eyes, looking away. "I want an omen." I call up at the sky; "Tell me, O Lord, is it destined to be?" It sounds like it could be a scream or a roar or a shout, carried on the wind, but it's definitely a word; "YES." Accompanied by the sound of smashing glass. shink Sophie and I both snap our heads around. A five-inch long, half-inch-wide needle of glass is imbedded in some of the soil bulging forth from the cracks. "Is that…?" Sophie says, leaning forward. "Cypress's ring?" I draw the shard of glass out of the dirt – it's actually ten inches long, and is somehow wearing some styleish silver. "It's a glass finger, wearing his ring…" Sophie whispers. And I'm staring at it. I can't hear her. This is trippy. "Fine then," I say as I stand, pulling the ring from the glass and a throwing dagger from my boot. "What do you figure – that window there?" I point to a small one, high up in a concrete wall of the Market. Looks like the one. Sophie nods, and I slip the ring down the blade of the throwing knife, tying it quickly with a strand of hair I yank of out of my head. "Then let's see if Fate sees the ring back to its owner," I say, heaving the knife. That window is impossibly small. Maybe ten inches wide, and thirty yards away at least. And the dagger flies through the air. Right through the window. And we're both staring. …what else can we do? * * * 'cypress' : I sit in one corner – the ring is in the other. I managed to fandangle the glasses into what I consider a fairly ingenious, if somewhat cliché trap, and now I'm content to wait for company. Without the ring, the wolf can only scratch at the door. And whine. Bark occasionally. scratch, scratch, scratching at the door forever It's driving me mad. I would gnaw off my leg to escape it. I spring to my feet and cross the room, snatching up the ring. // "Do you plan to bark in my ear all day?" I shout across the mountaintop at him. He stalks back and forth on the salt-and-pepper stones, those red eyes never leaving mine. i've been shouting for years you simply weren't listening "What is it, then? Is it the ring? I should melt the fuckin' thing down." and forefit our birthright? he snarls, but I cock my head to the side. "What are you doing now?" I ask. I snap… He's grinning at me. But I'm calm. I am Zen. // As I snap back, I feel naked for a brief moment. As if the warm blanket covering me has been thrown away. He was meditating. What was he doing? I reach to pull the ring from my hand, but stop. I can still feel… whatever it was… And I set my hands on my knees. And I close my eyes. And I let it come back. I let it come back. / Ah. …where was I? I feel the ring. Warm metal. And my father sits across from me, whispering to me to concentrate on the ring. Concentrate. Om. And it's pulling me back. I snap out – high above the Forks. And down – down to the concrete they poured over all the grass. Down to Sophie. Crow. They're talking. And walking. Mostly talking. About me. Sophie wants to talk about Cypress. "Cypress who?" Crow says. "You don't mean that," Sophie tells her. "No – y'know what? Fuck Cypress. I said it – fuck Cypress." / I tear the ring from my finger and just stare at it. Just stare at it. just slip it on, he whispers. Was it real? Or something he created? just slip it on. do you hate me that much? "Yes!" I roar, heaving the ring. Only this time, it manages to smash through the small window on the far side of the room. Out, out into whatever's beyond. And now that the ring is gone, everything is silent. Just the blood in my ears. Blood makes noise. Let Drac deal with that. It's not his time. And I breathe free. I grin. I deserve a cigarette. As I light one, it occurs to me that my father would disapprove, but- Pi… The ring spins, a flash of silver on the floor in front of me. ….iiiiinnnnnnnn…. I can only stare. …nnnnnn… Agape. …nngggggg… As it rattles to a stop. And whisper; "Fuck me." What can I do? I reach for it. just slip it on And clutch it. just slip it on as the shaft of light from that one window crawls across the room i'll make us strong again as it cuts across my face just slip it on as the sun sets outside i will make it all okay and the patch of light on the wall turns bloody-red just slip it on Nine Inch Nails plays over his whispers; just slip it on it won't give up / it wants me dead / goddamn this noise inside my head * * * * * * all pain disappears / it's the nature of / of my circuitry // drowns out all i hear / no escape from this / my new consciousness // that me that you know / he used to have feelings / but the blood has stopped pumping / and he's left to decay // the me that you know's / now made up of wires / and even when i'm right with you / i'm so far away * * * * * * michelle : I've been in the bar all afternoon – going over maps and talking to the other Alphas. It turns out Lisa had been sending messages back and forth with the guys and, vicariously, the old ones for the past two days. "We don't know – they just want whoever it was who attacked them at Weswtood. That's Cypress," Saku says. "They attacked him – he defended himself." "Yeah, times thirty," Martha grins. She and Saku touch knuckles, grinning. I narrow my eyes at her. "You stoned?" She shrugs. "A little – so?" "What do we have on the Boys' defenses?" Saku hands me a chart. Everything's charts when you're a leader. This many guns – this many Cetas on patrol. We made symbols for everything. The door to the mall closes, and we all glance up. It's Crow and Sophie. "…what?" "Where do you want us?" Crow says, and I have to grin. "Sophie – get to the front for when people go down. Crow – find a good sniper rifle and get to your post." They both nod and dash off as Nikki squeezes in past them. "It's going down in a half hour," Nikki says. "There's somone from the old ones who's gonna' make sure it's Cypress before they come in to take him away." "Well, we don't have him – the boys do." "The deal's with both of us – we're supposed to have someone there." "How many old ones?" "Three, in total. The messenger and two soldiers for protection." "Then we'll have three as well." She nods. "Who?" I sigh. "Gunfighters. People good in close quarters." "Give Martha a couple nine-millimeters," Saku says. But I shake my head. "I'll want you there with your blades," I look to Saku. "Do you have them?" She nods. "Good to go." "You're both from the same floor – are you sure you both want to come?" Martha and Saku look at each other and Martha shrugs. Both Alphas don't usually go, 'cause someone has to be around to lead the floor. "They're all grown up, now," Martha says, nodding to me. "How long?" I look to Nikki. "Half an hour." They all stare at me. "…what're we gonna' do?" Saku says. "Well…" I lean back against the bar. "I know what I wanna' do. What do you guys think?" * * * Martha, Saku and I sit on the front steps of the Terminal. A small car is coming. Distant, at first. Now we see it – tiny and blue coming out of the tunnel to Main Street. And the three of us stand, as we see three men from Westwood exit the Forks Market. Nine of us meet in the pavement between the buildings. One of the men is Jessie – the Westwood leader.. The second is the one who met Cypress at the doors – I don't know his name, nor the name or the third. Two of the old ones are huge, burly men. Sores all over their faces. The other old one is a tall, slender woman – though I can't see her face under her hood. I suspect she's the messenger. "Which way?" she asks. Jessie opens his arm towards the Market, and she looks to me to go first. The third man leads us deep into the Market, far around to the south side. The man who met Cypress at the doors walks beside me. Jessie is behind Saku and Martha, behind me. Following us are the old ones, who remain silent as the third man – the one wearing red – finally comes to a heavy metal door. "What, you put him in a store room?" I turn to the man beside me – the one strapped to the nines with guns. The third man is opening the door. "Yes," the gunman says. "You agreed to turn him over, and here we-" The third man steps into the room, and there is a very strange sound. A very strange, loud sound. Like… falling sand. And crystal. But with a lot of bass. And a scream somewhere in between. And there is a pile of white snow where the third man had been. A bloodied, punctured hand sticks out of the mass as a few remaining shards fall from somewhere overhead. "It's glass," I say. "Ken? …holy shit," the gunman whispers. "Cypress?" he calls. No answer. "Oh my God…" The gunman peers at the body before calling back to his leader; "He killed Kenny." The leader brushes past me. "You… bastard…" Jessie says as he step over the pile of glass. Suddenly he shrieks, falling back, clutching the little blade that's appeared in his shoulder. Hey – it looks like one of Crow's. "How much does he fuckin' have in there?" Jessie's yelling as the gunman pulls the knife out. "Did you make sure to get him a missile launcher?" "Is he always this… spirited?" the woman behind us finally speaks. We turn around. "Who – Cypress?" "The swordsman." "Well – as far as I know he takes confinement pretty well. But he has been having a bad day besides." "Ah, fuck, I'm fuckin' bleeding, here!" Jessie's whining. "…Michelle?" a voice comes from the room. We all freeze. "Yes – it's me." "Am I comin' home?" Cypress says. "…not yet," I say. "How many people with you?" "Well, eight now." I can hear him crunching away through the glass, and catch a glimpse of his blood-soaked sleeve. "Can… can we come in?" I ask. I can hear him sniff. "I wouldn't," he says – the voice echoes down the dark corridor. "…is it true he's some kinda'… like a demon?" one of the old ones asks now. "He's barely a full-grown man, you idiot," the woman snaps at him. We all look at her for a moment, before the shiny Weswtood Alpha and I step aside. "Then go first, by all means," he says. She sneers at him and pushes past, stepping over the pile of broken shards. We can all see her, inside the room. She's looking at something we can't see. Or for something. It's dark in there. "…would you go in?" the guy beside me whispers. It takes me a moment to answer. "Not if I were you," I say "I don't want to see this guy," one of the old ones says now. We both look to him – turning our backs to the door. "He slaughters people, man. Just slaughters 'em. Like they're cattle." The Alpha and I are staring at the old one. "You attacked him," I say. "What did you expect?" I glance back to the door. "We expected him to surrender," the old one says. "You didn't expect him to be hard as a coffin nail," the gunman huffs. Just then, I swear I can see the woman – the platinum-blonde – take a sudden breath, reaching for - "I mean one man against all of us and a tank? And – holy SHIT!" - her sidearm before a shadow whips out of the darkness, grips her by the face and yanks her out of our field of vision. "What? What?" Jessie says. It was so fast. I'm not even sure I saw it – but now the old ones are shoving me aside, pushing into the room. Ba-bang. The first one falls – two clean shots went through his head – and he crumples on the pile of glass. He's got her gun. . The second doesn't go through the door so fast, and the Alpha beside me reaches out – stops him. "Man – just don't," he says. But the old one just grits his teeth, pumps his twelve-guage and steps into the room. He looks left. Then ahead. Then left. Bang. A shot to his left – as he stumbles back the shotgun goes flying from his hands – kicked away. It's snatched out of the air by a bloody sleeve and whipped around to point at the man's neck. Broommm. The body tumbles back into the hallway. All is very very silent. "…Cypress?" I say. "Brie?" bang Like a little derringer. But Cypress calls out in pain – and now we hear footsteps. And a shotgun blast. Brie flies over the pile of glass, skidding to a stop at our feet. Someone is scrambling towards the hall across broken glass, but the gunman is already throwing his weight against the huge iron door. It whines as it closes shut, snapping and shattering the glass in its place. From within the room, a deep wail rises as the door closes – and is cut off as the lock clicks into place. Wham! We all jump as something hits the other side.