Ellery James
Trying to start writing again after quite a long absence. All feedback is appreciated.
Ellery James
Trying to start writing again after quite a long absence. All feedback is appreciated.
Trying to start writing again after quite a long absence. All feedback is appreciated.
Trying to start writing again after quite a long absence. All feedback is appreciated.
Kat hated these weekly meetings with the Ministry. Standing in line for an hour, filling out form after form, and only sips of burnt coffee and a nibble of stale donut to keep her occupied on this carousel they implored was for her benefit. “Katherine Mann,” she grimaced at the sound of her name cooly called. Maybe this time they would take the hint. Quickly gathering her paperwork, bag, and book that she had been able to almost finish, she calmly walked past the lonely hearts club of soulmateless individuals. Most had tears in their eyes and some sobbed through an entire tissue box before she could even write her name. “I prefer Kat.” The young girl looked up from her clipboard. “Sorry.” Her little smile, big doe eyes, and perfectly manicured look made Kat want to punch her in the face. “I prefer to be called Kat, not Katherine.” She adjusted her bag that was slowly making its own escape. “But the paper says Katherine.” The girl pointed to her clipboard, as though scolding a child who did not know their lessons. “My mother was Katherine, but I prefer Kat. Simple, easy to spell, and my own.” “You don’t like your name?” It was as if someone said they hated puppies and chocolate, and her brain couldn’t comprehend what she was being told. “You know what,” Kat paused for a moment, “never mind what I said. Let’s get this over with.” Trying to let out a smile with a mildly crooked front tooth, made Kat wish it was evening and a drink was in hand. “Follow me please.” Trotting away in her stilettos got Kat thinking how her mother and her would’ve laughed about the absurdity of what was happening. If she has known how miserable Kat would’ve been since turning 21 almost 9 years along, she never would’ve signed her up for the Ministy’s love connection or what Kat referred to under her breath as fantasy idiots. Each person connected with another through a series of questions and answers, and tests that would make a gynecologist blush. They made a turn after twist through the halls. Passing door after door with different names and sounds coming from them all. Kat never could remember where she was in this place, and she knew they preferred it that way. The girl checked her clipboard with each turn, only pausing long enough to let a couple pass. Kat caught a glimpse of them. Clothes slightly amiss, hair wildly shaken, and a smile on both of their faces knowing they were not leaving alone today. “Here we are.” The little blonde held out a keycard and unlocked the door. “What are we doing today?” Kat entered the room, but it wasn’t like the previous ones she had been in. This one felt different. Cold and dark with just a soft pad in the middle of the room. “Please take a seat. The test will begin in a few moments.” Carefully the girl closed the door behind her, leaving Kat to wonder what type they would put her through this year. She threw her bag in the corner and took a quick stroll around the room. Other than the lack of furniture, it seemed like all the other rooms. Maybe this was some form of yoga for the mind, but that was a passing fantasy as the door clicked open and in walked a tall, dark man with a….
It’s better to have love and lost, than to never loved at all. The breath of dewy morning glow dances in the fall With leaves strewn freshly cross the ground with smiles to befall.
It’s better to have love and lost, than to never loved at all. That once fresh light has turn to dark and scattered cross the ground With midnight fast approaching and the eerie silent sound.
It’s better to have love and lost, than to never loved at all. The first snowflake kisses your cheek and heartfelt times recalled Of sipping cider through sunset’s glow underneath the old oak tall.
It’s better to have love and lost, than to never loved at all. The icy breath of winters sting draw close per to your throat To bid fair well to all that have seen and never wrote.
It’s better to have love and lost, than to never loved at all. Bid farewell to autumn, say hello to an old friend… To love and lost, that fateful day or to maybe love again.
“I’ve never met anyone like you before!” Frank Wilson held on tight as they banked hard onto 9th street away from where three men had just tried to end him. “You should be grateful for that.” Cars blared their horns as they weaved in and out of traffic. The hotdog that he had eaten earlier began to creep its way north. He dare not loosen his grip for risk of falling off and being thrown into the on coming cacophony of New York. In the distance Frank heard a siren whaling. It was the flashing of red and blues that made he heart suddenly beat faster. Without warning they ducked into an alley and skidded to a stop as he smashed his face into the back of the leather jacket in front of him. They were at a dead end and fleeing a scene made him an accomplice to what had happened back at his apartment. Whipping his head around, his stomach churned as the sounds grew louder, but they drove right past their makeshift hiding spot. He dismounted the motorcycle just in time for his stomach to wretch. A small relief came over him as he bent over in pain. The vomit stinging his nostrils. Standing upright, he noticed that the person on the bike had dismounted and walked towards the opening of the alley. “What happens now?” Frank spat on the ground, trying to clear his mouth of the taste. His rescuer walked back over towards him. Grabbing his arm, and checking for any injuries before mounting the bike again. “Now you tell me everything you know and why those guys wanted you dead.” Frank hadn’t noticed before, but the voice under the helmet was soothing. He tried to place it, but knew he would be better off not knowing who this stranger was. “I don’t know. One minute I’m sitting in my apartment watching the news and the next minute I am being dragged into my kitchen and being threatened to have my nuts cut off unless I gave them what they wanted. Which for your information, I don’t have!” Frank could feel his mind start to wonder. He knew he wasn’t the most stand up guy, but he sure wasn’t into anything illegal, at least not the illegal that gets you killed. “Then why did you have this in your possession?” Ripping out a stack of passports, Frank took a step forward to examine them. “I’ve never seen those in my life. I’m a garbage man. Not some master criminal.” “Those men weren’t there to have cookies and milk, so how did you get these?” The mystery savior put the passports back in the side pocket. “I told you. I’ve never seen those in my life. Now If you don’t mind. I’d like to go home.” Frank began walking towards the traffic, hoping to flag down a willing bystander to give him a lift back towards home, but only go a few feet before being swept off his feet and landing squarely on his backside. “Clearly you aren’t that bright. Those men will surely be waiting for you. And unlike me, they don’t play nice.” Frank scrambled to his feet. He brushed his hands off and took a step back towards the wall. It was getting darker and he wanted to be as far away from this day as he could. “They what do you suggest I do? I didn’t sign up for whatever weird shit you got me into.” He huffed as he slowly crouched on the ground. “You mentioned being a trash guy. Bring anything home lately?” Frank looked as his own reflection in the helmet. He always was bringing things home that others had decided weren’t worth their time. “Sure. Almost once a week I find something that these people don’t want.” He motioned towards the city. “It’s garbage to them anyway. So I figure, one less item in the landfill.” “Well Mr. Wilson, I think your dumpster diving may have gotten you in some hot water. So unless you want to end up in a dumpster. I suggest you get back on this bike.” Frank thought for a moment about making run for it, but surely he couldn’t make it very far. Maybe it was just his luck that someone else’s trash turned out to be what would get him killed. Weighing his options, he knew that going home wasn’t an option.” “Fine. But I’m a garbage man, not a dumpster diver.”
They sat staring at each other waiting to be dealt their hands. Each offering up their most prized possession. This was an invitation only and Reese has just been welcomed into the fold, which has been a boys only club until today. She reveled at the idea that she was the first to join. Maybe they had been told that they could no longer exclude her, or maybe they realized that she had what they wanted and instead of taking it, they would win it and humiliate her into remembering why she wasn’t allowed to join their game. “Each of you will get the same number of cards.” Mikey spat as he talked. He was large and imposing, which made him the perfect candidate to run these games. No one would dare try to go up against him. “What are the rules?” Reese asked. She had played many times with her friends, but she knew that Mikey may have made up his own rules, as this was his game. “This is why we don’t let her play!” Tommy sneered. “Yea! She doesn’t know the rules.” Billy pointed at her with his chubby little finger. “That’s okay. It just means she will lose and we get her stuff.” Mikey ran his fingers over the cards, giving off the satisfying sound ripple of sound. He started to deal out the cards to everyone. Reese watched as he gave her the last card. She reached for them, but Tommy slapped her hand. “We put everything in the middle before we look. It’s the rule.” He smiled at Mikey and Billy who both agreed with him. They threw their items into the middle. “Fine.” Reese reached beside her and put her pouch on the table. They watched as she unzipped it to reveal what they had been waiting to see. “Wow.” Billy reached his hand out for a touch, but Mikey slapped it down. “I guess you do have something worth taking.” Mikey drooled over the prize like a dog with a bone. They all admired it, as though it was worth their weight in gold. “Are we to play or what?” Reese looked at her cards-two kings, a pair of queens, a good start she thought. “Before we start, you have to swear you will never tell another person about this.” Billy’s eyes glared at her. Who would she tell. It wasn’t like she was looking to make friends in the town. “Let’s just play.” She looked back at the empty pouch sitting next to her, knowing if she lost there would be no way to explain where the item had gone. “Fine.” Mikey stared at the signed baseball one more time. “Go Fish.”
The faint smell of bleach stung Brynn’s nostrils. She could feel a tightness on her wrists and ankles that tugged at her skin. Carefully she opened her eyes to only get a few pinpoints of light. She had no sense of how long she was out, but she knew it was at least a few hours. Pausing her breathing to listen, the voices in the distance were muffled by a soft buzzing of machinery. “Maybe a meat packing facility”, she thought from the other odors that now stung her nose. There was no mistaking that the people who got the jump on her were lucky. She could hear a set of footsteps moving toward her and another climbing some sort of metal structure. If she had not been trying to keep Jack alive after his stupidity of wanting to go it alone, she would have seen them coming. She could feel the movement of someone behind her, tied in the opposite direction. “Damnit” she muttered to herself. “The self righteous bastard just had to not listen.” Her thoughts searing with anger. She couldn’t free herself without first knowing what she was walking into. The only way to go was through. Best to get them to remove the blindfold and then figure out the plan. She struggled against the restraints on her wrists. Gasping and choking as though she was scared. Tears rolled down her cheek and licked the cut that she had gotten when pistol whipped for trying to stop Jack from pissing off the whole Russian mafia. A presence now loomed over her. A set of fat hands grabbed her wrists. “Well look who is awake.” The voice was deep. She had heard it before, but couldn’t place it. “You and your little friend have some explaining to do.” The duct tape quickly yanked from her mouth, made a whimper emerge. “Someone help!” She screamed at the top of her lungs before a the meaty hand clamped down on her mouth. “No one can hear you scream.” The quick twist of her neck let the blindfold slip slightly, revealing a pair of oversized sneakers. “What do you want? If it’s money I can pay. Just please let me go.” She sobbed as the feet moved backwards. In the distance she could hear another person enter the room. They spoke quickly in Russian and a new pair of feet emerged, this time in fine Italian leather. “Please, I will give you whatever you want, just let me go.” A gently touch skimmed the wound on her face. It moved slowly toward the blindfold and carefully removed it. She blinked a few time to adjust her vision. Before her was the one they had named The Comrade, since his true name was never verified”. Interpol had been trying to years to nab this guy, the Feds had not fared better, and the CIA wasn’t sure what country he was in at the moment. Brynn Steel was looking at him, but couldn’t believe he was the kingpin behind the deaths of thousands of people. His deep blue eyes glared back at her. It had been some years since she had come this close to a cold blooded killer without anything but her own wits. “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone.” She noticed three other men enter the room along with an arsenal of chests. Jack had been right that The Comrade was behind the missing shipments in New York. Hating that he was right, she knew her was not the place to escape. She needed to know the plan and who the buyer was. “Why were you with this man?” The Comrade motioned to his men, who went behind her to grab Jack. As the brought him around, her eyes had to refocus. It wasn’t him. They had inadvertently taken the wrong guy, and she could see in the shadows that one of the men carrying a Uzi held a finger to his lips. “I don’t know who that is.” Carefully the Comrade stroked the mans head, as though comforting a child. The man looked at her, as though to speak. A loud shot rang out. “I was just looking to play some poker.” Tilting her head down, she knew that four against one were not good odds, but it was now or never. Twisting her hands to the sides of the chairs she felt the weak point. Taking a deep breath she counted in her head “Three…two…”
Three days in the back of a van with nothing more than a bottle to piss in and a shopping bag full of chips and warm soda, that was how I spent the last few days of freedom. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t glamorous, but it was worth every moment that led to the arrest of Mr. Wallace Marshall Reed. He had taken everything from us, yet lived in his penthouse on the Upper West Side, and did what ever he pleased. “Sarge, do we have to?” I couldn’t make out the response, but got the hint when the door was slammed in my face. I could see a smug man duck the press and get shuffled into the back of a police car. Sure, I had done something illegal, but I’d do it all again. The man who was sitting just like me, was brought down to his knees by a lonely IT worked with a penchant for skirting the rules to make sure that the little guy always got a fair shake. Guess one too many strokes of the keys dug my own hole, but at least it was big enough to topple the castle.
******
“We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for this breaking news. Mr. Wallace Marshall Reed has been arrested for extortion, profiteering, arms dealing, and that is just the tip of the iceberg. This salacious lie has all been perpetrated by a disgruntled former NYPD Digital Crimes Specialist. The DA will be live with us in a moment from station ten to give us what this means.” The news reporter read her teleprompter flawlessly. This would be her break and it had to be perfect. As the screen was scrolling through the pre-approved garbage that the network execs had written, she realized that this was not the type of work she had expected to be doing. Sure there would be fake to go along with this, but her morals had always been about telling the truth even if it meant tanking her name.
She realized that her thoughts were dragging her back to herself. Could she be the reason this man wasn’t given his day in court or that he would walk because of how the media helped spin the truth. From behind the screen she heard a throat clear. The words on the teleprompter had stopped and she stared at the papers in front of her. “It takes more courage to tell the truth than to go forth with a lie.” These words rang in her head.
“Ready or not.” She thought, as she slowly lowered the papers and peered into the souls of those watching around the world.
******
“As we await the words from DA Paulson, I am sure you all have questions about why this courageous NYPD Officer took the law into his own hands. While that is something he will have to answer for, we must all be grateful that another criminal has finally been brought down to their knees.” The chatter stopped in the distance. Everyone now listening to the words that were being broadcast. A murmur began as they listened to her words.
“I am as shocked as you, that this could happen in our own city. That those in power, sworn to protect us, have let this happen. I stand with you now, to ask our DA to seek justice for those that no longer have a voice from the actions taken by and for this man. Remember that the truth always is brought to light.”
Suddenly the broadcast stopped. A swirling of anger filled the air, and the officer threw open the car door.
“Sounds like you have someone in your corner.” Looking out from the back seat, the crowd erupted in shouts of support. They threw their fists in the air and pleaded to those protectors to take their power and use it for good.
Leaning back in the seat, he took a deep breath. “No. I have a city in my corner now.” He smiled as the pulled away into the sky covered itself in a soft glow of moonlight.
“Together we shall continue to thrive in this, the best republic. Created to move us forward and give those without hope a glimpse of tomorrow.” The symbol burst onto the screen in a flash of fire, then slowly faded into the background, sending the room into an eerie dim light that found its way underneath the door. Suddenly, the room became bright and sterile as Supervisor Lane walked to the head of the class. His hair was matted down to his head with a helmet like quality, and his uniform was in need of a time machine, to find the original body it had once dressed. “What you have all witnessed,” he paused to add tension to his words, “is the reason you have been here the last seventeen years of your existence. Tomorrow you will all be given a role that will allow this republic to continue to thrive. Each of you has something to contribute— I have made sure of that.” He marched between the desks, where dozens of eyes stared back at him. Each set of eyes looked upon his face, as though he was breathing life directly into their bodies. As he reached the back of the room, he turned to face the screen. Standing erect, with his hands behind his back, he nodded to the room, which sprung to attention. The scrapping of metal legs across the tile floors gave him pleasure. These were his hope that he gave to his republic. They would now be a reflection of him. In his career as a Supervisor, Lane had only had one failure. It was the darkest day when he learned that one of his had strayed. They had lost their way in knowing that the republic was their family, and he felt it as though he had planted the bomb that caused the collapse of the Institute. He had pushed that memory from his mind, and dove farther into training the next set of citizens.
As they waited for a signal, there was a loud bang outside. All eyes focused on him. They dare not move before being told so. “Stay here.” Lane barked as he turned on his heels toward the door. In the hallway, a group of Supervisors rushed towards the location of the sound. As they wound their way through the labyrinth of doors, they came to the exit. The steel doors were locked, but through the bullet proof glass, they could see smoke. The sounds of screams began to fill the atrium, which they had passed through only moments before. Lane darted through a crowd of prospective parents to see scorch marks on the marble floor. From the ceiling a figure hung, swaying in rhythm with the deafening screams. The militia pushed their way through the crowd and quickly began rounding individuals into groups.
“Seal off the area. No one in or out without first going through an exam.” Sergeant Zorn shouted orders that overpowered the crying that had washed over the crowd. He caught Lane’s eyes and pointed towards his men to bring Lane forward.
“Come with us.” The other Supervisors took a weary step back as Lane was trotted forward into the center of the atrium.
“What do you have to say about all of this?” Zorn glared at the ceiling as the figure was lowered slowly down. From the corner of his eye, a wave or relief rushed over him. It was not a person, but a doll.
“I don’t know.” Before his mouth could stop the words they came out like vomit. “I supposed it it tragic.”
“You suppose.” Zorn towered over Lane, who was no small man himself. A piece of his ear was missing from a fight that killed its opponent. He had been giving the nickname “Wraith” which was fitting given the terror he caused. Especially the fear Lane’s students had the first time hearing Sergeant Zorn speak.
“What I meant to say, Sergeant, was I would be honored to have my group assist you in finding the perpetrator of this crime and bring them swiftly to justice. Tomorrow they will be assigned to a sector and begin their training to reenter society.” Lane knew he had to tread lightly. Glaring down at the balding spot on Lane’s head, Sergeant Zorn smirked.
“We all have our roll in the republic”, Zorn jabbed his large finger into the emblem on Lane’s blue coat, “And I’m sure you’ve trained them very well.”
Jack sat looking out at the placid movement of the lake. The air was quiet as he concentrated hard to remember the last few hours. Coffee, subway, work, running late, papers on his desk, a place, 8 Street Station, running, shaking, then darkness. He could retraced his morning steps over and over. Why brought him to the 8 Street Station? He knew he had dinner plans with Ryan later, more like he had plans to watch the game and drink a beer at some dive bar with wings for a quarter. He knew what he had for breakfast, but the time after ten until now was hazy at best. The woman who had found him in the cottage by the lake seemed as shocked as him, when she opened the door. Stumbling down the steps he caught his own foot on a board that was not properly nailed down, and it hurled him to the ground. After some screaming and her husband pointing a hunting rifle at him, Jack was able to compose himself enough to feel his badge dangling from his neck. A quick flash got the rifle out of his face, but no closer to any answers. “Jack.” he heard a familiar voice accompanied by heavy foot steps along the dock. Turning slowly, his gaze staying low, he was met with two shiny black boots. “Let’s get you home.” An arm was around under his arm and hoisting him to his feet. They were there, but they did not feel like they knew what to do or where to go. “Captain?” What’s going on?” They paused on the dock. A gaggle of officers going about their business as he has seen so many times at crimes scenes. The Captain turned to him and faced back towards the lake, as though someone was watching. “What is the last thing you remember?” “I remember 8 Street Station. Going down the steps. Quickly. Hoping the turnstile. Doors closing on the train. Then darkness. And this lake. Where is this lake?” “You’re at Lake George.” Jack’s face glazed over with emotion. Trying to fight the urge to run, he mustered up the courage to look back at the lake. “Who brought me here?” Swallowing a mound of pain, Jack looked at the Captain. “I don’t know. The couple they found you said you kept going on about someone named Sam and they have arrived. Does that mean anything to you?” “Are you sure I said Sam’s arrived?” “They’re not quite sure what you said, only that you sounded like a mad man and your lucky the husband didn’t shoot your ass.” A flash of blonde hair caught Jack’s eye. He spun around, but there was no one on the dock except them. “It’s been a long day. Let’s get you home and you can get some sleep. Before the Captain could stop him Jack took off down the dock. Struggling to keep his balance, his hands caught him as he scrapped his way to the cottage. The Captain was close behind, waving off officers who tried to block him from entering. Glancing around they watched as he counted the floor boards, one...two...three...eleven....twelve. They had always joked it was their lucky number since they both were born on the twelfth of a month. Pushing the chair that covered the area, the officers began to gather. Prying at the board, Jack’s fingers became raw from the jagged wood. “Jack?” The Captain tried to get him to explain, but he knew it was only a matter of time. If Sam was alive, she would’ve left a clue for him here. Finally the board gave way. Thrusting his hand into the opening, he rummaged around for something...anything. Slowly his shoulders drooped and his hands fell into his lap. There was nothing there. Maybe he was exhausted and his mind brought him here, where three years before Sam had left in the middle of the night. All Jack knew was there was a lot of blood at the scene and her phone was left behind, smashed to pieces. She had left a note, but it wasn’t like her to run, even if the thought of marrying his ass scared her to death. “I thought.” He stood up and looked at his hands that were now strewn with splinters. “Just take me home.” The Captain smiled, and wrapped an arm around him as the slowly made their way out.
She was the most adored girl in the room; all eyes were fixed on her as she waltzed elegantly across the floor. Little did they know the dark secret she was hiding. Her dress kissed the dance floor, moving towards her as she slowed and flinging outward as she whirled with the music. In the distance she could see their eyes watching her. Peering into her soul, which had been emptied from the moment the crown had bore down all its weight on her shoulders. She caught a glimpse of his inset eyes as she spun. Her heart began to race, but she knew she had to finish this dance before excusing herself. Pride was not something she looked fondly at, but in this moment it was what she wanted. To prove that she could do this better than any other man before her. The music slowed and she carefully excused herself. As she navigated the sea of bows, she could see him shuffling over towards her. How had she become Queen at such a young age, not yet ready for her life to be filled it audiences of people wanting something and men wanting to control her, including Viscount Donelle. He had been her fathers trusted advisor, yet he had his sights set in the young Catherine thirty years her senior did not deter him from wanting her hand. A match to unite the people, he called it, though which people she could not fathom. Her father has entertained the idea for a moment while her mother pushed to make it so. They had long talks about marriage and having and heir to the throne. Viscount Donelle has slithered his way through the crowd and now stood in front of Catherine. “Lovely evening, is it not.” He stretched out his hand for hers, but she recoiled. “Did you need something?” Catherine stiffened her posture. Her chest heaved under the tightness of her corset. “I would like to take a walk through the moonlight. If it so please you.” The Viscount still holding his hand out. She would not take it. Not after he father gave her the ability to decide for herself. His last selfless act was to name her his successor. “I would like a walk under the great moon.” She gently lifted her skirt and moved past the Viscount, who had yet to grasp her meaning. “I shall accompany you then, my lady.” As his hand reached out, she snapped around. “That will not be necessary. In fact your presence here today was unnecessary.” His face turned white. The music began to fade and rumblings within the crowd grew. “I do not understand. I was your father’s advisor as I am yours.” “While you may have been in my father’s good graces when he was King, I do not say the feeling has sustained. In fact I believe it is time for you to leave.” His fists tightened underneath his starched gloves, “What an insolence!” A hush fell over the crowd. Catherine stood and starred at him, his eyes began to fade into nothing. “I am the one who worked tirelessly to keep your father in power. I gave my life to him. I was promised your hand and a seat at the table. I deserve what is owed to me!” He reached out to grab her arm, but before she could realize what she was doing her hand met his face with a loud smack. Shock set in as the whispers started to grow. “You are owed nothing.” She was calm with her words. “My father promised nothing. My hand is mine.” “You bitch! No woman can rule without a husband. You are too weak.” He was seething through his teeth. “I am the Queen and you shall address me as such. I am not a child you can boss around or a woman who is owed to anyone.” The room fell silent as he debate his next move. She would not allow him the last word. Gathering her dress, she glided across the dance floor to a lone chair seated on a small platform. It was flanked by bouquets of flowers and draped with red velvet curtains with golden trim. Glancing at the chair, she could feel a tear in her eye for her father who had saved her from the fate she was believed destined to have. Turning to face the crowd, she lowered herself gently onto her throne and waved for more music.”
Captain Everett knew that the ground team had to be careful with the shifting winds growing stronger by the hour. The crew had all signed a NDA, but that did not mean anything if the word go out that ET had crash landed on Nordaustlandet, or nicknamed by the crew as ‘helvete verden’. With the sun quickly setting, they needed to quicken their pace. In the distance Captain Everett saw a storm brewing and if they did not make it back to their bunker, they would surely freeze to death. “Time to wrap it up. Storms coming and I’m not about to die for some goddamn little green men.” As they loaded their equipment into the trucks, they could hear the wind whipping against their snow suits. Even with this protection, they still could feel the icy blast seep through vulnerable areas of their gear. As they shove the last piece of equipment on to the truck, Captain Everett did a headcount. “Nine, ten, eleven,” he counted again with his eyes, but still came up short. “Who is missing?” With their gear on it was hard to tell who was who, even with name badges sewn onto their uniform. “Looks like Cody,” one of the men shouted over the gusts of wind. “Damnit. Jensen, Michaels, you come with me. The rest of you head back to the base and we will be there shortly.” Cody had always been impulsive, but when the General had assigned him to the crew, Captain Everett had his concerns. His younger brother was always curious about the world, and if he hadn’t been the right choice for this mission, Captain Everett would have asked for someone else. The three men made their way back to the wreckage and began their search. They methodically circled the area, like a pack of wolves hunting their prey. On of the doors of the wreckage had been pried open and there were fresh tracks leading into the interior of what was left of the ship. Captain Everett motioned for Michaels and Jensen to lead the way. They both yanked the riffles they had slung across their back and tactically cleared a path. It was believed there were no survivors from the crash, but that had yet to be confirmed. As they move farther and farther, the air began to warm. Captain Everett checked the digital read out on his wrist and it began to jump rapidly. How could this be possible? The air outside was below zero, but in here it was now almost 10 degrees and climbing. Suddenly they heard footsteps moving toward them. Raising their weapons at the sound and preparing for a fight, they quickly fell into formation. A light slowly crept towards them from behind a large piece of metal. “Sam, what’s going on?” It was Cody. They lowered their weapons with the sight of a friendly face. “Let’s go.” Captain Everett grabbed his brother by the arm and began pulling him back the way they had come. “Wait, I have some samples I need help carrying back. Plus you have to see this!” Cody broke loose of his brother grip. “We will get it tomorrow. The storm is almost here and we need to go.” Captain Everett motioned to Jensen to get his brother and head back. As they found their way back to the entrance, the sounds of the wind grew like a freight train, barreling towards them at a deafening speed. Michaels stepped into the cold air first, but was he did so a large icicle fell from above and meet his arm with force. His screams were drown out by the wind and the blood seeping through his coat made it appear as though it was only wet. Captain Everett grabbed his good arm and yanked him over his shoulders. No sooner had he righted himself, did he see a large piece of metal wiggling to break free. “GET BACK!” His voice breaking in the wind. Instinct took over and he threw the, both back inside the ship. Knocking Michaels and Cody off their feet. The metal came crashing down before them and sealed the exist. Plunging them into darkness.