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Dying to Live

A short story — Chapter Two

March 15, 2012
By CHANDLER SHOAF - JFK High School (PageOne@tribtoday.com) , Tribune Chronicle | TribToday.com

Blood. It had covered the twins' black body-suits and exposed legs. Moving as a single unit, they holstered their handguns. This feeling of finality that sank in while their victims' skin went cold wasn't a new sensation. Destiny and Melody had made their first kill at nine years old with the same guns that sat on their hips today. Brody had witnessed this, experiencing true anger for the first time in his sixteen year existence. To watch his baby sisters take five lives without any remorse . . .

"Melody, take that one's jacket. It's going to be fall soon, and we'll need some warmer clothing. We can't afford to get sick."

"Alright. You take his gloves, then. Just because you haven't gotten sick yet this year doesn't mean you won't."

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Brody, nearby as usual, made a mental note to arrange for them to 'find' some warm clothes soon. His own cargo shorts and T-shirt would need an upgrade as well.

"Mel, do you have our planner handy? We need to figure out our next base attack, but there are two in the area."

A base? That was news to Brody. According to HIS planner, there wasn't a base for at least a couple hundred miles, let alone two! The dead men had been lying when they said that there was a camp nearby, and clearly Dessie and Mel didn't understand that. They'd gotten too confident in their truth extraction abilities. This would require intervention. Though he hated letting them out of his sight, he turned the tracker he'd planted in their guns on and headed for the location of the so-called bases.

"Yeah, Dess, I'm wondering if those guys weren't lying. I didn't think we were that close to the Lies province. No matter how I look at it, having two bases within two hundred miles of each other just isn't smart, and the Lies are ALWAYS smart about their base locations."

"You're right, but we at least have to check one of them out. We still have ten people left until we destroy the subdivisions of the Lies, then the leader. His or her identity is still unknown."

"This is kind of random, but have you felt like someone is watching us? It's a weird prickly sensation at the back of my neck all the time."

"I agree. I've tried locating any people in the area, but I always turn up a blank. Whoever they are, they're an expert at stalking."

"Do you think we should try and trap them?"

"I don't think it would work. They're way too smart to fall into a trap if they've managed to stay on our tail for any length of time."

That solemnly concluded their conversation, allowing them to slip into a comfortable sleep under Brody's returned and worried gaze. He had learned why the dead men would want his sisters to visit those two locations. At both places, armies awaited the girls, and by themselves, they would never survive. In order to advance, they would need assistance. HIS assistance. For the first time in a month, Brody loaded his handguns and sharpened the daggers he kept tucked in his pockets. It wouldn't be easy, but he'd sooner die than watch his sisters do the same.

"Whoever you are out there, you need to tell me if you're friend or foe. It you fail to respond, I shall assume you are an enemy and challenge you. If you claim to be our friend, we much meet you."

Brody smiled despite himself. He'd known this faceless-follower deal wouldn't last long, although with his invisibility power, he could maintain the 'faceless' part.

"You can come before us tomorrow at noon. We shall be waiting."

Silence fell across the hilly brush area as Melody slipped into watch mode. She always had been the one to think outside the box, reach for things she didn't know where there. Destiny tended to be hard core practical, sticking with what she could see or touch. They were perfect balances for each other, and it always angered Brody that someone had taken advantage of them to 'save the world'. Raising his hand before his face, he allowed it to become visible. Scarred, calloused, and strong, no one had seen him with their own eyes in ten years. Even so, there wasn't a single person still alive that had set eyes on his face. Not that he'd killed them. Would he ever see himself as others saw him, or would this invisible existence continue until his death? Perhaps, the noon-day sun could provide an answer, an answer he had sought for sixteen years.

 
 

 

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