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 Posted: Fri Oct 22, 2010 7:49 pm
Boundary of the World
________________________ &---Setting_______________.They lie on the edge of the province’s collective memory like a dream scarce remembered; mythical and elusive, full of meaning and great beauty, yet incomprehensible to the waking mind.These are the Haida Gwaii, the Queen Charlotte Islands, the ancestral home of the Haida peoples of Canada and the birth place of legends.
The name Haida Gwaii translates as “islands of the people” in the Haida language. According to Haida legend, Haida Gwaii is the place where time began. There is an older name for this place, a name that comes from the mists of time and seems to be the most appropriate name of all: Xhaaidlagha Gwaayaai – Islands at the Boundary of the World. Certainly it is not hard to miss the spiritual, even mystical nature of the place. They are a legion of islands, a mixture of snow-top mountains and fiords that plunge into the sea, mist-enshrouded forests and windswept sandy beaches. They rise as peaks of a submerged mountain chain, with the tallest peaks perpetually capped in snow. Just two or three kilometres offshore, the continental shelf falls away dramatically to the immense depths of the Pacific Ocean.Crowning the northern tip of the Haida Gwaii is a privately owned island, Yáahl Gántl; Raven Water. The only town on this island is Port Morg'an, a town that branches out from the large harbor and into the land. Much of the eastern coastline is claimed by commercial and private land, a mixture of homes and businesses, and then disappears in the face of the forests that sprawl over the rest of the island. It is considered both a large and a small town, encompassing nearly a quarter of the island in property but only populated by a sparse number of both Haida and non-Haida alike.
Overlooking it all is a manor, or what is better defined as a lodge. It stands on the crest of a large hill on the farthest edge of the town limit, framed and backed by the forest itself. It appears both ancient and regal at the same time, with no sign of decay but neither any trace of modern architecture. The pillar that stand on either side of the double wide doors and stretch up to the top of the three or four story mansion are matched by four more that travel along its lengths and support the decorative roof. Across the exterior walls are carvings that tell a tale of the gods, though what that story translates to is known only by its occupants - the matriarch and patriarch of the island community and the owners of the island.
This manor sees all: the forest border that is patrolled routinely by the strong wilderness officers employed by the family, the harbor that dispatches ferries, fishing boats, and planes - the only means of travelling to the island itself. It is a silent sentinel, watching over one of only seven schools in the entire chain of islands, teaching grades K through twelve, and its eyes are on the library, a novelty in a community of this size. At the edge of its perception is the large Inn and Pub, a place of both retreat and warmth, a protection offered in the loom of the sometimes oppressive eye of the Manor.
Where the Manor cannot see its hands and eyes are carried through the body of its servants, the triad of community leaders - the Mayor, the Police Chief, and the Town Council's president. Port Morg'an is a kingdom, it is Camelot, and the Manor is its castle. However, just like its mythological counter part, this modern day kingdom is also plagued by its share of mystery, intrigue, and marvels beyond the human understanding. Despite its constant vigil, the Manor is also witness to tragedy, crisis of faith, and unexplainable phenomena. It's mystery is a beacon, just like the grail in ancient times was to seekers, and it is this that calls to its heroes. For all its hardship the community of Port Mor'gan knows it can count on one thing; the dedication of brilliant minds to seek out the mysteries and solve them. &---Persons of interest_______________.Sopheerie and Saeroshi Dues: the unofficial matriarch and patriarch of Port Mor'gan.
Any local knows that nothing happens in the small town, possibly the entire island, without this notorious couple knowing it.
Presiding over the land in a large mansion on the edge of town limits, Sopheerie and Saeroshi are the beings to visit should you need to beg a favor, or seek something seemingly unattainable.
Mayor: Heru Lone
Police Chief: Dickie Maat
Town Council President: Athena Shaet
Inn/Pub Keeper: Hestia Thahor
Librarian/Newspaper Editor: Thomer Hesth
Wildlife Officer: Dege Breet
School Principal: Rheta Mua
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Posted: Sun Nov 07, 2010 11:48 am
___________Story post.Charles Red-hands was a practical sort. Always a reason behind every action and a logical conclusion to it that always brought, well, reason. Quite often those reasons had to do with his job in town, a light-body mechanic position at the harbor (small boat and motor repairs mostly), and all the rest had to do with the small lodge he was fixing up just outside of town in the lighter part of the island's forest.
So it might have seemed out-of-character to any passerby that Saturday morning, a crisp morning that carried the lingering touch of frost and smelled like the ocean on a western breeze, because Charles Red-hands was behaving bizarrely, at best; impractical.
Perched at a bench in the town square directly below the large, old clock and in front of the municipalities office, Charles sat reading phonebooks. A pile of twelve sat beside him in no particular order and on more lay open in his hands to the 'M' section. Some books were large, belonging to the entire Vancouver area region, some were very distant - one of them being a book for the city of Regina - and all were open to the same page. Though he sat reading calmly, simply reading, there was an undeniably wrong feeling hanging about him.
Perhaps it was something in the air, or maybe it was the chill and gloom of an approaching storm - something Charles seemed oblivious or simply dismissive of - or it could have been both. Whatever it was, there was a reason unspoken and maybe even unknown to the townsfolk that had most, if not all, of them indoors that morning. Charles Red-hands sat alone.
Though it was not uncommon for the island of Yáahl Gántl to be barraged by rain storms, especially in this season, it was uncommon for those stormclouds to be accompanied by lightning or thunder. The conditions required for the manifestation of energy in the atmosphere were simply not present this far north, it was far more common inland or in the south. However, despite that scientific reasoning, the distinct rumble of thunder threatened the horizon. In that moment the town stilled, children at their desks at school stopped to listen as well as their teachers, shoppers at the local market paused to ponder, and even the minuscule traffic on the roads slowed to wonder at what it was they had heard. Fishermen on the waters even delayed in their duties, knowing what they must do to protect their vessels and selves but unable to do so as they stood in disbelief at what they had heard. The only soul that seemed to go on without notice of the dark voice in the sky was Charles, continuing to scan the page he was on in his phone book.
Then it happened, faster than anyone could have predicted: lightning strikes. Six of them simultaneously on the island, three striking in the forest at the tallest of trees, two striking in the harbor (one drawn to a moored boat and another to a buoy), and the final strike in the town square, hitting not the clock tower as would be expected but Charles Red-hands himself. It was over before it had even begun, it seemed, and in the brilliant flash of energy and power from the sky Charles was gone. No charred remains, no blasted body bits scattered in the area, simply gone. In the space of a breath after the lightning struck the thunder dissipated and the clouds birthed an unbelievable gale of rain, drops heavy and thick enough to fill a child's mouth, and the town rushed to cover and protection from the storm without any notice of Charles' disappearance, or so it would seem.
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Posted: Sun Nov 07, 2010 9:51 pm
Suzie Adama hated the rain. She hated being wet, being cold, and she hated the fact that it always seemed to soak her shoes first and leave her wearing wet socks for the rest of the day - which she also hated. She also hated the effect the rain had on her thick, otherwise straight hair - unruly curls and waves that seemed to have no direction or purpose besides being unruly, unmanageable, and altogether too volumous. It made her feel like a clown or a 80's pop singer whenever the rain did it's monstrous work on her hair. This was why she was currently idling in her car outside the municipalities building rather than going in. She'd just heard the last minute radio broadcast from one of the more western islands warning fishermen of a storm about to blow in and she could already see the dark clouds overhead.
So began the struggle between her hatred for being wet and her duty to finish her story. It wasn't an exciting story, just a simple one about what the town council was planning on doing about the broken down lodges in the northern forest - could they be reno'd, would they be, how much money would that be, where would they get the labour, etc. - but it was a story nonetheless, her story, and she would see it written. Unless something more exciting came up...
It was during this inner debate that she found her eyes wandering to the man sitting at the park bench oblivious to the growing darkness from the clouds. She wondered if she should open her door (or maybe just crack a window lest some of the nasty, evil rain get in through a sudden and triumphant gale that she just knew was waiting for the opportunity to attack her somewhat controlled hair), when her sharp eyes noticed what he was reading. She mouthed the word 'phonebooks' in the form of a question, accompanied by an incredulous expression, when the first roll of thunder drummed overhead. A cold chill filled her with dread just seconds before the first crash of lightning and she screamed (though she'd later claim she was simply breathing out loudly in surprise), and looked in terror as the current struck so close to her own car - struck the man dead on.
The flash was too bright for her to see what happened clearly but she was opening her car door before she could recover her sight, adrenaline pumping through her and urging her to run to the man, cover him with something to help him, and somehow get medical attention to him, or maybe it was a lot simpler and she was simply instinctively reaching out to another human being. She blinked hard against the rain that came down suddenly and heavily, grimaced as the cold bit against her wool sweater and jeans, soaking them quickly, and stumbled rather ungangly across the roughly paved street towards the park at the fastest shuffle she could manage while half blind.
She stopped halfway, directly in the middle of the road, when her vision cleared and she choked on a mixture of rain in her open mouth and shock - the man was gone. Stunned and gaping at the sight, Suzie didn't move an inch as her mind whirled. She didn't know what had happened, she didn't even know who the man was, but one thing was for certain: this was a lot more exciting than a story about taxes.
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Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2010 12:08 am
-l Alexander Melancon l - -l Investigator l-  "My family died nine years ago and nothing can bring them back..." Alex was in his private lab, as usual, trying to figure out something else about the burnt can. Amidst all the books, computers, CDs, and what ever else was on the table, The sweat from Alex’s face that had stained the table stood out the most. Alex, when he was in his private lab in the thirteenth story of an old apartment building, didn’t use the AC. He knew he always worked better in the heat, so work he did, non-stop, through the rain, sleet, hail, and storm, as the say. How ironic, that it was was raining today, Alex didn’t even notice it till he heard the rain drops hitting the floor from his open window. Before he even got to the window, he heard the lightning hit simultaneously across the city, just by listening he picked off each location easily, ‘This should be easy…’ He thought as the lightning hit. ‘I heard six claps of thunder hidden in the fine sound of lighting, three of which landed in the forest, two in the water, and the last one, in the center of town, the clock tower no less.’ Alexander smiled to himself, he knew he was correct, but he had other things to attend to, so he closed the window and pulled up the curtains.
‘What a drowsy day…’ He thought as turned around to see his dirty lab with everything out of place. He took a few strides forward and rubbed his finger over the table in front of him, he lifted his finger to his eyes and stared closely at it, noting all the dust that had complied from the table to his finger. “Time to clean this place.” He said aloud and dropped his hand back to his side. He walked over to the AC and turned it on high, he was finished his investigation work, so he could turn on the AC now. Alec began by grabbing all of the books and stacking them on one table. Once they where complied on the table, Alec began to separate his books from the library’s or the station’s books. He then took his book and walked to his make shift library, the kitchen. Since he didn’t live in his lab, he stripped the cabinets to make them shelves for his books. Alex walked into the library and put all the books in their proper place, then he walked back to the lab. He looked at all the remaining cr^p on his desks and frowned, he had more stuff then he thought he had. He collected all the CDs and put them on the CD rack, which was a regular blank disk catty, one you could easily buy at a store for only a few bucks. He then turned back and looked around once more, ‘Ugh. I’m going to stop for the day, I’m closing all my files and going home.’ He thought as he began closing all the files and stacked them next to the tower of his Mac computer. He shut his computer down then grabbed his laptop, stuffed it into it’s case, and walked to the AC unit. He looked down at the AC unit, reached down, unplugged it, then he stood and walked to the door. ‘This will have to do for now…’ He thought as he took one last look at his lab for the day. He picked up his keys and cell phone from the table next to the door and exited. He locked the door behind him and began walking to the elevator, his room was just ten stories down from his lab, he preferred it that way for some reason, but he never really knew why.
Few minutes later…
Alex had reached his room and walked in quietly after unlocking the door. He dropped his keys on the desk along with his laptop. He bent down and grabbed his phone’s charger wire and plugged it into his phone before setting it down on the table. Alex slid of his shoes, closed the door and locked it, then he walked over to the TV. He turned it on and watched it flash blue for a second then go to the news, the only station that Alex has on all day in to front room. He turned up the volume a hair and walked in the kitchen to fix himself a ham sandwich. He stood in the kitchen in complete silence listing to the TV talk on and on about the bad weather. ‘As usual.’ Alex thought as he ate his sandwich. He walked back into the living room, once he was finished, and laid down on the couch. He grabbed the remote and turned the TV down to where it was barley audible and grab his book off the coffee’ table, “How to Kill a Crook”, one of Alex’s favorite reads. He opened it up to where he last left off and read while the TV was still going on and on about the weather. "But, nothing will stop me from finding their killer and taking my revenge..."
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Posted: Mon Nov 08, 2010 2:02 pm
Moestitia Onoxnoctis, even her name held a sense of old air about it, had felt something in herself. A compulsion to jump on a boat to the first place she found who’s name she could not pronounce. There had to be some way to attain her muse, bring back her inspiration. Surprisingly, she was the only passenger on the voyage, no one else would board with her, they merely sat in the ticket office, pointing to her ship and whispering. They must have known where it was going; but why all the commotion? What was so special about this place that it needed to be spoken of in near audible whispers? Pushing the thoughts from her mind, Moestitia retreated through the ships dining hall doors, the cool air rising from the water and light drizzle of water on her skin all but froze her.
There wasn’t much to be done aside from ponder, sit, and ponder. No one else aside from the small crew, who were all busy with other things, was aboard to keep her company. She had to wonder why, though, this trip was the cheapest on the ships stops. Was there something she was missing?
Making her way through the extravagant dining hall and into the hallways of the sleep quarters, she remained silent, reaching her room with ease. It was a simple room, yet elegant; blue faux velvet covering the chairs, small love seat, and even lining the drawers. The rest was a dark, expensive looking, wood. So deep brown it almost appeared completely black. Removing her raven lace-up shoes, Moestitia almost sighed as the rich blue carpet touched her feet. Being out of those shoes felt so nice, she wasn’t sure why she even wore them anymore; she knew from the start they were uncomfortable. It felt like it took her for ever to get to the bed, yet once she was there she found herself asleep almost instantly.
A sudden jerking of the world around her sent her half way out of bed, waking her instantly. Something just felt..wrong. Standing, she made her way to her shoes, slipping them on in half-groggy haste; briskly walking down the hall, through the dining hall, and to the Captain’s quarters. Almost bursting into the doors, she locked eyes with him.
“Quid iustus evulsum?!”
It took her a moment to realize his confusion, she had nearly forgotten most people did not speak a word of Latin..
“What just happened!”
Her tone remained, in essence, the same, yet harsher this time around.
“There is a storm ma’am, but luckily we have reached our destination. We shall be docking immediately.”
In a huff, she turned and left; going directly back to her room to ready her things. Once finally docked, Moestitia un-boarded the ship steping out into the vast unknown. This place gave her the creeps, or was it simply the storm...
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Posted: Thu Nov 11, 2010 12:19 am
It had been three days and still Dante had found little in the way of information or clues as to what might be on this island. He had come here like he had done so many times in the past, to some remote place people hardly talk about in search of something that many said did not exist. The problem this time was Dante himself was not even sure what it was he was looking for.
All rumors and what little chatter about the island there was pointed at something mysterious. The problem about the mysterious was that it liked to stay that way. Dante had uncovered artifacts from lost civilizations, found ancient ruins that dated back centuries, and even found objects thought only to be religious legends but this time he was truly baffled. All his research on the island pointed to nothing more than the possible ancient tribal ruins and maybe some archeological discoveries but nothing that would constitute his needing to be there. Why was it then that he was still here?
A flash of lightning followed quickly by a quick crack of thunder heralded a coming storm. Dante was coming out of the small library for what seemed like the hundredth time just for that day. He pulled the collar on his leather jacket up high knowing the rain would soon come. As he looked up into the sky he sighed seeing only dark clouds stare back at him blocking the sky. Dante placed his leather hat atop his head and began walking when he heard the clap of thunder once again. It was not until that second bolt that Dante realized something was off.
All the research he had done had been from the islands geological shape, the history of its people, and the metrological records. Dante had never been one for worrying about the weather but from what he recalled there should be no logical explanation for thunder and lightning here. The clouds up here did not contain the means to produce normal lighting, nor did the temperature get high enough to bring about heat lightning. As the rain came down in what seemed like a wall of water Dante did not run to cover but instead looked up into the sky. Something was not right about this island now he at least had evidence for himself now all he needed was something to look for.
It was then that Dante realized he was in the town square close to the clock tower. Threw the rain Dante could see a man who appeared to be looking through a series of books with no mind on the rain at all. As Dante was about to approach the man and inquire as to what he was doing another bolt of lightning ripped through the sky and struck the earth with a mighty slam. The thundering response to the particles of energy breaking the sound barrier so fast blasted forth from the spot and knocked Dante to the ground. Coupled with the blinding light Dante found himself not sure what just happened but knew that the bolt had struck close to the main by the tower. As Dante stood up he could see a woman running to check on the man's condition and so he did likewise.
Dante approached and his expression seemed almost to mirror the woman's who now stood opposite him. There had been a man sitting by the clock tower before the lightning strike, but now there was no sign that the man ever even was there. Dante moved closer and knelt to check the area and could only see a burned spot where the man once was. Looking up at the woman in the rain Dante only had questions and no answers.
"Did you see what happened to the man who was sitting here?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 13, 2010 10:10 pm
Suzie's mind was a whir before she realized that the voice that had spoke had been directed at her, coming from another man that had approached from somewhere beyond her line of sight... either that or she'd just been too stunned to see him.
"Lightning!" She exclaimed, all but yelling the first thing that came to her mind. She gulped back what remained of her surprise and tried to form another sentence, something that would sound a slight bit less mentally deficient, and she managed something longer. Almost a complete sentence, even. "He was sitting there reading and then he got hit by lightning! Lightning doesn't do that, does it?"
She didn't know who he was but he seemed to be an expert in some sort of field. At least reliable. Suzie knew the type, knew what sort of person to look for in a crowd when you were looking for answers, and he fit the bill. Dressed moderately stylish, but not so much to care about fashion, and fine enough to be above working class but not fine enough to sleep on silk pillows. Couple that with his immediate instinct to determine what happened and ask questions of his own made for a mind fixed on knowledge. His eyes were searching, and his mode was information.
But despite all that, she only managed to prattle. "I mean, I'm no weather girl but I know lightning doesn't do that. It doesn't disintegrate or de-atomize or WHATever. And it doesn't hit a person when there's a taller, more immediate target in place! Does it? What the hell is going on?"
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Posted: Sat Nov 13, 2010 10:24 pm
Under Dante's study his initial survey proved true. There was no proof of the man Charles' presence, aside from the charred place on the bench, and arguably no evidence of a lightning strike either. There was no fire, even with the rain there was no sign that one had even been sparked in the wood of the bench or the surrounding grasses and shrubs in the park. The park bench was in perfect condition, the phonebooks lay undisturbed, and nothing seemed to be out of place aside from the place where the man had been. The dark spot did not smolder, did not burn, and could have been called a shadow in the wood. No smoke rose from it and neither was there a scent of burnt wood.
Across from town at the Harbor, Dickie Maat was watching for trouble from the comfort of his patrol car. In fact, it was the only patrol car in the town... and he wasn't exactly looking for trouble. In a town as peaceful as this there generally was no trouble, aside from the trouble he was sure his stomach would be giving him later for the amount of fried he'd just finished eating from the local pub. Though he was in his mid-thirties, and an avid fan of the home-style meals Hestia Thathor whipped up for her customers, Dickie Maat was a well-cut, well-fit, and well-bodied man. It came with the territory of Police chief, or what served as a Chief in a town this size, but even then he knew that even his body had limits on what it could digest safely.
Of course when the rain and lighting struck all thought of his stomach ailments and fries abandoned him in place of the noise that buzzed his patrol car quickly and suddenly from the police radio. The dispatcher, Maurine, was screaming for him in a panic and he didn't blame her. With a quick word to her to send the few boys they had out to get some of the jeeps from the storage place and to call the rest in, Dickie started his own car.
He saw her in the light of his headlights, for that was required in a downpour like this, and immediately unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car. "Miss!" He called out, spotting the young italian woman coming from the docks. "Miss, you'd better get out of the rain. If you need a ride somewhere you can hop in now and let me know where you're going."
In a downpour like this the least safe place on the island was the docks. A strong wave, a gust of wind, and rising water from a surge of weather like this and a person could be gone and lost without a whisper or a cry of help.
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Posted: Mon Nov 15, 2010 12:08 pm
"No, lightning does not do that."
Dante had examined the area around the man and found no evidence of the powerful force of nature striking the earth, nothing but the black stain that was where the man was standing. Nothing in this situation made sense in the lest. The spot was not even moderately warm, in fact it was rather cold to the touch given the rain fall. Dante looked at the woman who seemed lost in rambling and after witnessing such an event who could blame her.
Out of professional curiosity Dante made his way to inspect the things left by the now apparently vaporized man. He found the stack of phone books that had been piled up all around the man and all turned to the same section. Picking up a few he could see they were from all over the providence some even of other nations. Dante was more used to examining ancient artifacts than phone books but he put his same detailed line of thinking to work in an attempt to understand some of this odd event. Dante reached into his bag that always was slung over his shoulder and did his best to finger around for his note pad. In this rain if he had pulled it out it would have been soaked in seconds. He carefully thumbed his way to the back, so as not to harm any notes already made, and tore out a page. He then moved quickly to gather up four of the phone books that were from the least similar locations and placed a piece of paper as a book mark before he placed them in his bag. He turned to the woman and could see her shiver a few times for being in this cold rain for a period of time.
"Let's get out of this rain first. If we catch ammonia then there might be three people who die from this storm."
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Posted: Mon Nov 15, 2010 12:26 pm
Moestitia hadn't noticed the rain, itself, it was the wind that bothered her. It ruffled her hair about her face, making it difficult to see. Only when she heard a strangers voice did she pull her blonde hair from her eyes to gaze about this place, in search for that voice.
A..police officer? She had only just gotten here, was she in trouble already? the downpour had already soaked her white skirt, making it as see-through as pain of glass, her dark undergarments showing through. Of course he was an officer of the law, so she really shouldn't have misinterpreted his intentions..yet she had heard plenty about dirty cops that would pick up prostitutes, and kill them. However, a lady of the night she was not. So perhaps his intentions were honestly for her safety.
Clutching her hand bag and small roll-away suitcase, Moestitia made her way to his car, warily, watching his every move with her olive eyes. Had he made one false move, she would retaliate immediately, without hesitation.
Stopping mere feet from where he stood, she opened her mouth to respond, but stopped. This man was not likely to understand anything aside from English. It took her a moment to get her thought straightened into that language.
"I do not know where I am going. I know nothing of this place."
She was about to step closer, when the captain of the ship she had just departed, ran past her and the policeman. He seemed oddly in a hurry. Perhaps it was for the simple reason that these docks were beginning to get dangerous in the storm. She payed no mind to it, instead circled around the vehicle and waited for the officer to open the door for her. At very least perhaps he could show her around, or relieve her of the now rain soaked bags she was carrying.
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Posted: Mon Nov 15, 2010 11:54 pm
Dickie Maat didn't seem to notice the girl's somewhat strange behavior, or he didn't show it if he did, and waited for her to speak. When she did he wasn't surprised by the answer so much as the way she poised it, the particular form of speech she had as well as her accent.
"Even more reason for you to come along with me then, Miss. I can drop you off at the town's Inn." He caught the look she was giving him as she approached the car and it took him a moment to put a finger on the feeling it gave him - the same look juries gave defendants when they'd already decided on the verdict. He waited only long enough to decide that his own uniform was soaked enough until he made his way to the passenger side and opened both the front seat and the back seat doors, gesturing to her to throw her bags into the back and to get herself into the car.
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Posted: Tue Nov 16, 2010 12:20 pm
Doing her best to hide the fact that her undergarments were showing through her now wet paper like skirt, Moestitia gently placed her bag into the back seat. Calmly, quickly, she closed the door behind her belongings and retreated into the passenger seat; shivering from the cold water on her skin. She wanted to say something along the lines of 'do not try anything funny', but remained silent as she often did. If he wanted to speak with her, he would need to make the first 'move'.
Still silent, she closed the door behind herself this time, and waited for the stranger to re-enter the vehicle. Part of her wondered why he was taking her to an inn, and then suspicion hit once more. Was he secretly trying to take advantage of her? A shake of her head, and the thought was gone. This inn, as he put it, seemed a good a place as any. Her sleep was interrupted on the ship she'd come in on; admittedly, she was a slight bit fatigued. Clearing her mind of all things aside from the storm, she waited for him. At least, if nothing else, he was company; a rare sight to her now days.
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Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2010 9:31 am
Despite the seeming erratic mood she was in, understandably so from what she had just seen, Suzie's sharply honed instincts did not miss the other man's actions nor did they fail to note his own mannerisms. Her eyes flickered over his large bag into which the phone books had disappeared and then rested on his for a moment of consideration before nodding.
"Do you have a car?" She asked, every bit as excited as she had been the moment before. "Mine's just over here. You'll have to sit in the back though, I've got my work papers all over the passenger seat and I'd rather they not get wet." Without waiting for his answer she started walking, snagging the sleeve of his coat on her way by, and pulled him along with her.
"Do you think this happened anywhere else? The lighting hit six times didn't it, right? I mean, I think it hit that many times. I wasn't exactly counting but I'm sure I heard it clap. Thank goodness for this rain, with it coming down this strong at least there won't be any fires..." She trailed off with that thought knowing that somehow there wouldn't be any fires anyways, not if the other strikes had been like this one.
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Posted: Thu Nov 18, 2010 9:50 am
Dickie Maat wasted no time in getting around the vehicle and into the relatively dry (not completely since the doors had been opened up and the winds seemed intent on drenching every orifice available to the rain) and warm confines of the vehicle. One sitting, doors closed to winds and weather, he sighed. From his now very wet pocket he drew out a tin and pulled from it a slim cigarette, common make on the islands, and then offered his passenger one while he turned the police radio down. The chatter was still high from the storm, and likely would be until he arrived at the small town station.
"Are you staying anywhere, Miss...?" He began, but not sure if she would be up to giving him a name or not he continued, "If not, I'll take you to the Inn like I said. You'll get a warm meal from there at least. If there's somewhere else you'd prefer to be then I can drop you off there on my way to the station."
Across town, in the only apartment complex on the island, Alexander Melancon's reading was interrupted by the sound of his cell phone ringer announcing an incoming call. On the caller display was a simple local number, nothing that he recognized.
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