The Blackbird 20
Curious Experiences.
A longer chapter for those of you who waited patiently for it. Thank you, everyone who has commented and encouraged me in my writing. :) Sorry it's taken so long to get out, I've been working on another story- something to clear my mind, and, if you want to read it, e-mail, (my e-mail is on my personal page), or comment me.
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The Blackbird 20
Curious Experiences
I'm not sure when exactly the trail started to shift, but it had. No longer was it broken desert shale and windswept sandstone covered in a squishy layer of mud; there was now a settled feel to the path. At first, I thought I'd just finally mastered handling the winding forest pathway- the stones in the footpath were like walking on marbles and constantly having to catch yourself before you landed in mud- but then I realized that the shale pebbles, which were so obviously the cause of much of my pain, were no longer there.
It's safe to say that we were booking it, and gaining ground too. The rising flood waters of the leafy valley below had forced us onto higher ground, a fact which I am very grateful for. After reaching the upper levels of the canyon the feeling of being in a strange desert oasis became much stronger. The dryness and pluming dust of the pathway I walked on now was much more welcome.
"I'm surprised you haven't quit yet," Mak informed me, conversationally. "I didn't peg you for being the adventurous sort."
I swatted a gnat out of my face, "oh, trust me, I'm not. If it were any other ghost I'd be back in school, asleep in my chemistry class and waiting for the day to end and pretending to be a normal kid."
He laughed a short, knowing laugh, "but you'd also be missing this grand adventure," he chided, extending his arms to indicate the forest around us. I was going to make a smart retort but, when I opened my mouth, a bug flew in. I choked, spit it out, and then gagged. When I was done with the episode, I looked back where Mak had been standing. He was now doubled over with laughter.
There was a rustle in the bushy fronds to our left and, even as I turned toward the noise, the cold barrel of a gun was raised in my face. I took a step back. "Don't move," a steely voice demanded.
Like a flash, Mak had stopped laughing and put his hand on the revolver strapped to his standard police belt. Before he could raise it, however, another man stepped from the bushes to back the first up and demanded he keep his hands in the air. I raised mine as well, even though I had no gun- something told me that was being-held-at-gunpoint-in-the-middle-of-a-darkening-forest-where-hikers-had-a-tendency-to-suddenly-go-missing SOP (standard operating procedure).
"Why are you here?" The gravelly voiced one holding the gun to my face asked, my eyes had time to adjust by now and I was no longer focusing at the barrel of the gun, but the owner of the hands which controlled the trigger.
I responded without thinking, "this is a national park. We're hiking. The question is, what are you doing with a loaded gun on government property?" Instantly, I regretted my words, a funny look came into his eyes; it was as if he knew something I didn't.
"Don't mess with me, little girl, the gun is loaded after all, and it's pointed at you," he threatened darkly before returning to his calm demeanor.
I scowled and opened my mouth to retort, "I'll tell you what you can do with that gun-"
"Lilly!" Grayson's hissing voice startled me, "stop it." His warning was laced with some nearly tangible emotion, and it came out a higher pitch than I was used to. I quickly turned my head, taking my eyes off the guard to stare at him.
Grayson was standing only about a two foot away from me, staring intently at the gun-wielding guard. "He'll shoot," he warned, sending me a pleading look.
As if to echo the ghost's words, the man clicked the gun off safety, staring at me apprehensively as I responded to something he couldn't see or hear, "then we'd be the same." I'm not sure where the words had come from, or if I meant them, but I couldn't control the annoyance that washed through me as I broke my first, and most important rule; don't speak to ghosts in front of normal people.
Hearing the gun click, Grayson unthinkingly moved between me and the armed man, as if to protect me from getting injured, ignoring my comment. Thankfully, the gesture unnecessary; Mak spoke, calming everyone down. "What she means to say," he threw me a warning glance, "is that we want to speak to whoever is running the compound."
The man blinked, obviously surprised that anyone knew about what he was guarding. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said, yet his words were shaky.
Mak sighed in mock annoyance, "come on, we've been slugging through this rotten valley all day. We're tired and irritable, take us to the compound, we need to talk to your boss, and we don't have all day."
Both men lowered their guns, taking a step back. "What do you need to see Dr. Milankovich about?" The less intelligent of the two guards had spoken this time, and had given us a name. The other sent him a vehement glare.
To abate the hostility, Mak answered, "we need to talk about the chemicals."
The two men exchanged nervous glances and then, picking a radio off his belt, the goon nearest me began to brief whoever was on the other end, "tell the doc we've got company."
Without another word, they began to lead us forward. Pretending not to notice the way Grayson stood between me and the ill tempered guard at all times, I leaned over to whisper to Mak, "chemicals?"
He shrugged, "isn't that what all secret facilities in remote locations are dealing with?" I nearly laughed at his conspiracy theory, then stopped. It had worked, hadn't it? I just wondered if chemicals were enough to kill someone over.
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"Tick, tock," Grayson continued, copying the rhythmic ticking of the gray clock bolted to the lobby wall. "Tick, tock, tick, tock, tic-"
"I swear to God, Grayson, you don't want to finish that tick," I hissed, sending him a nasty glare. We'd been sitting in the lackluster waiting room of the sterile smelling room for over an hour and a half, waiting on Dr. Milankovich to finish whatever he was doing. The guards had left us alone with a warning that we shouldn't leave the room until someone came for us. I noticed two cameras in the east and south corners of the room.
He stuck his tongue out and plugged his fingers in his ears. As he did, Mak gave me a questioning glance. "I can't hear you!" The infuriating ghost sing-songed in a childish way.
"What's going on?" Mak asked, just as I was about to lament Grey with my colorful vocabulary.
I rolled my eyes, "Grayson's being a child."
"That's because Grayson," he referred to himself in third person, pointing at his chest, "is getting sick of sitting in this stupid room."
I gave him an icy smile, "sweetheart, I'm sure that when they told us to wait here, they meant those of us who are alive. Dead people are free to roam the building at their own discression."
Mak, annoyed with being left out of yet another conversation, turned to stare blankly at the television. It was playing a local news stations 6:00 p.m. report but, muted as it was, nothing interesting was discernible. Grayson rolled his eyes, "like I'm just going to leave you both here. If these psychopaths murder you, the prosecution will need a witness."
Even as grumpy as I was, at this I had to laugh. "Yes, because the jury will totally accept testimony from a noncorporeal entity."
"Entity?" He snorted, "don't you mean the one and only beautiful-" I snorted, "intelligent-" I rolled my eyes, "son of the governor?"
"Nope." I popped the "p". "I meant annoying, loathsome, devilish, and semi-acceptable looking ghost sitting beside me." Okay, so I was lying about the semi-acceptable part. Sue me. He arched a brow, showing off his glinting black irises and malevolent smirk.
"Care to rephrase that last bit?" he leaned in, and I could feel his stingingly cold breath on my lips as he spoke. And, with all my might, I wanted to say no, but I couldn't remember how. For the life of me, words wouldn't come. The glint in his eye turned serious and he stopped breathing- not that he needed to anyway.
With a curious look on his face, he brought his hand up to lightly cup my cheek. I felt shivers run through me at the ice that seemed to cover right side of my face. Maybe it was from the cold, but I doubted it. He frowned, "how can you feel it when I touch you?"
My frown matched his, "I have no idea." And it was the truth. There were things I knew about ghosts; a lot of little things and quite a few that could save your life. But, with every new ghost, came a new discovery. This was something I'd never dreamed of encountering.
Through the cold of his icy touch, I could feel his presence. As if his soul had somehow retained it's ability to feel solid. Another mystery that needed to be solved. Eyes still probing deep into mine, he asked, "what did you feel when I kissed you?"
I blushed, and answered without thinking, "butterflies." His somber expression was instantly replaced with a glowing smile. I slapped my hand over my mouth, eyes wide. Had that really come out?
"Really now?" he gave, a light, melodious half-chuckle. I was completely embarrassed until he added, "I thought that was just me." The blush intensified, and, were it not for his cold hand still on my face, it might have become permanent. He shook his head, "now, now," Grayson scolded playfully, "I'll have none of that." With his last words, he slowly kissed the corner of my mouth, rubbing my bottom lip with the thumb of the hand attached to my numbing face. My eyelids shut down of their own accord.
Some part of my mind, the part not in la-la-land, remained aware that Mak was in the room and that, and that alone, kept me from melting into a boiling Lilly puddle on the floor at his feet.
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The Blackbird 20
Curious Experiences
I'm not sure when exactly the trail started to shift, but it had. No longer was it broken desert shale and windswept sandstone covered in a squishy layer of mud; there was now a settled feel to the path. At first, I thought I'd just finally mastered handling the winding forest pathway- the stones in the footpath were like walking on marbles and constantly having to catch yourself before you landed in mud- but then I realized that the shale pebbles, which were so obviously the cause of much of my pain, were no longer there.
It's safe to say that we were booking it, and gaining ground too. The rising flood waters of the leafy valley below had forced us onto higher ground, a fact which I am very grateful for. After reaching the upper levels of the canyon the feeling of being in a strange desert oasis became much stronger. The dryness and pluming dust of the pathway I walked on now was much more welcome.
"I'm surprised you haven't quit yet," Mak informed me, conversationally. "I didn't peg you for being the adventurous sort."
I swatted a gnat out of my face, "oh, trust me, I'm not. If it were any other ghost I'd be back in school, asleep in my chemistry class and waiting for the day to end and pretending to be a normal kid."
He laughed a short, knowing laugh, "but you'd also be missing this grand adventure," he chided, extending his arms to indicate the forest around us. I was going to make a smart retort but, when I opened my mouth, a bug flew in. I choked, spit it out, and then gagged. When I was done with the episode, I looked back where Mak had been standing. He was now doubled over with laughter.
There was a rustle in the bushy fronds to our left and, even as I turned toward the noise, the cold barrel of a gun was raised in my face. I took a step back. "Don't move," a steely voice demanded.
Like a flash, Mak had stopped laughing and put his hand on the revolver strapped to his standard police belt. Before he could raise it, however, another man stepped from the bushes to back the first up and demanded he keep his hands in the air. I raised mine as well, even though I had no gun- something told me that was being-held-at-gunpoint-in-the-middle-of-a-darkening-forest-where-hikers-had-a-tendency-to-suddenly-go-missing SOP (standard operating procedure).
"Why are you here?" The gravelly voiced one holding the gun to my face asked, my eyes had time to adjust by now and I was no longer focusing at the barrel of the gun, but the owner of the hands which controlled the trigger.
I responded without thinking, "this is a national park. We're hiking. The question is, what are you doing with a loaded gun on government property?" Instantly, I regretted my words, a funny look came into his eyes; it was as if he knew something I didn't.
"Don't mess with me, little girl, the gun is loaded after all, and it's pointed at you," he threatened darkly before returning to his calm demeanor.
I scowled and opened my mouth to retort, "I'll tell you what you can do with that gun-"
"Lilly!" Grayson's hissing voice startled me, "stop it." His warning was laced with some nearly tangible emotion, and it came out a higher pitch than I was used to. I quickly turned my head, taking my eyes off the guard to stare at him.
Grayson was standing only about a two foot away from me, staring intently at the gun-wielding guard. "He'll shoot," he warned, sending me a pleading look.
As if to echo the ghost's words, the man clicked the gun off safety, staring at me apprehensively as I responded to something he couldn't see or hear, "then we'd be the same." I'm not sure where the words had come from, or if I meant them, but I couldn't control the annoyance that washed through me as I broke my first, and most important rule; don't speak to ghosts in front of normal people.
Hearing the gun click, Grayson unthinkingly moved between me and the armed man, as if to protect me from getting injured, ignoring my comment. Thankfully, the gesture unnecessary; Mak spoke, calming everyone down. "What she means to say," he threw me a warning glance, "is that we want to speak to whoever is running the compound."
The man blinked, obviously surprised that anyone knew about what he was guarding. "I don't know what you're talking about." He said, yet his words were shaky.
Mak sighed in mock annoyance, "come on, we've been slugging through this rotten valley all day. We're tired and irritable, take us to the compound, we need to talk to your boss, and we don't have all day."
Both men lowered their guns, taking a step back. "What do you need to see Dr. Milankovich about?" The less intelligent of the two guards had spoken this time, and had given us a name. The other sent him a vehement glare.
To abate the hostility, Mak answered, "we need to talk about the chemicals."
The two men exchanged nervous glances and then, picking a radio off his belt, the goon nearest me began to brief whoever was on the other end, "tell the doc we've got company."
Without another word, they began to lead us forward. Pretending not to notice the way Grayson stood between me and the ill tempered guard at all times, I leaned over to whisper to Mak, "chemicals?"
He shrugged, "isn't that what all secret facilities in remote locations are dealing with?" I nearly laughed at his conspiracy theory, then stopped. It had worked, hadn't it? I just wondered if chemicals were enough to kill someone over.
_____________________
"Tick, tock," Grayson continued, copying the rhythmic ticking of the gray clock bolted to the lobby wall. "Tick, tock, tick, tock, tic-"
"I swear to God, Grayson, you don't want to finish that tick," I hissed, sending him a nasty glare. We'd been sitting in the lackluster waiting room of the sterile smelling room for over an hour and a half, waiting on Dr. Milankovich to finish whatever he was doing. The guards had left us alone with a warning that we shouldn't leave the room until someone came for us. I noticed two cameras in the east and south corners of the room.
He stuck his tongue out and plugged his fingers in his ears. As he did, Mak gave me a questioning glance. "I can't hear you!" The infuriating ghost sing-songed in a childish way.
"What's going on?" Mak asked, just as I was about to lament Grey with my colorful vocabulary.
I rolled my eyes, "Grayson's being a child."
"That's because Grayson," he referred to himself in third person, pointing at his chest, "is getting sick of sitting in this stupid room."
I gave him an icy smile, "sweetheart, I'm sure that when they told us to wait here, they meant those of us who are alive. Dead people are free to roam the building at their own discression."
Mak, annoyed with being left out of yet another conversation, turned to stare blankly at the television. It was playing a local news stations 6:00 p.m. report but, muted as it was, nothing interesting was discernible. Grayson rolled his eyes, "like I'm just going to leave you both here. If these psychopaths murder you, the prosecution will need a witness."
Even as grumpy as I was, at this I had to laugh. "Yes, because the jury will totally accept testimony from a noncorporeal entity."
"Entity?" He snorted, "don't you mean the one and only beautiful-" I snorted, "intelligent-" I rolled my eyes, "son of the governor?"
"Nope." I popped the "p". "I meant annoying, loathsome, devilish, and semi-acceptable looking ghost sitting beside me." Okay, so I was lying about the semi-acceptable part. Sue me. He arched a brow, showing off his glinting black irises and malevolent smirk.
"Care to rephrase that last bit?" he leaned in, and I could feel his stingingly cold breath on my lips as he spoke. And, with all my might, I wanted to say no, but I couldn't remember how. For the life of me, words wouldn't come. The glint in his eye turned serious and he stopped breathing- not that he needed to anyway.
With a curious look on his face, he brought his hand up to lightly cup my cheek. I felt shivers run through me at the ice that seemed to cover right side of my face. Maybe it was from the cold, but I doubted it. He frowned, "how can you feel it when I touch you?"
My frown matched his, "I have no idea." And it was the truth. There were things I knew about ghosts; a lot of little things and quite a few that could save your life. But, with every new ghost, came a new discovery. This was something I'd never dreamed of encountering.
Through the cold of his icy touch, I could feel his presence. As if his soul had somehow retained it's ability to feel solid. Another mystery that needed to be solved. Eyes still probing deep into mine, he asked, "what did you feel when I kissed you?"
I blushed, and answered without thinking, "butterflies." His somber expression was instantly replaced with a glowing smile. I slapped my hand over my mouth, eyes wide. Had that really come out?
"Really now?" he gave, a light, melodious half-chuckle. I was completely embarrassed until he added, "I thought that was just me." The blush intensified, and, were it not for his cold hand still on my face, it might have become permanent. He shook his head, "now, now," Grayson scolded playfully, "I'll have none of that." With his last words, he slowly kissed the corner of my mouth, rubbing my bottom lip with the thumb of the hand attached to my numbing face. My eyelids shut down of their own accord.
Some part of my mind, the part not in la-la-land, remained aware that Mak was in the room and that, and that alone, kept me from melting into a boiling Lilly puddle on the floor at his feet.
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