Dark..... Pitch black... And dangerous

Reggie lifted the brim of his netted steel helmet, peering down to the ground below. The smells of flak, sulfur and burning debris clung to the back of his throat. His blue eyes burned from the heat that whipped his soot streaked face while tendrils of his ashes blonde hair clung to his sweaty forehead. His huge blue dragon soared high over the battlefield with his master safely astride in the saddle on his back and the rest of the wing following close behind.

Reggie couldn’t believe the sight below. The skies were pitch black with the sickening orange glow rising high into the black. Trenches snaked across the peninsula like coiling veins while barbed wire and large iron crossbars jutted out of the dirt. Fireballs burst from the dirt with geysers of flame, smoke and debris flying into the air. Reggie felt his hands trembling as he gripped the saddle reins. A low rumble escaped Soren’s throat, sensing his rider’s uneasiness.

It was time to fly.

Reggie raised his arm, bending his hand downward and signaling for the wing to dive.

“ANGELS GO!!!”

With wordless yells and shouts from their riders, the dragons unleashed a series of loud, ear shattering roars and charged into the inferno.

No one ever knew of the creatures that dwelled beneath the Lake Greywater, nor did they know why they did the things they did. They were horrifically misunderstood, demonized by people intent on wiping out the magic of the world so that everyone would be equal as they proclaimed each and everyday.

And it was the children and the young generation who had suffered the most.

The creatures of the lake, those men and women with their brilliant fishy tails, had heard them all crying out in the night; hoping against hope that anyone would free them of their false society.

They had heard......and they answered.

At the stroke of midnight on Midsummer’s Eve, the sirens began to sing, their voices eerie and haunting as it echoed through every town, village and farm, waking the children and young folk who dwelled within. The singing roused them from their beds, their parents oblivious to the hypnotic beauty that only their children could hear.

They left their homes and ran for the lake where the merrows, merrow men and sea folk awaited, urging them to run and jump in. Their parents and elders ran hot at their heels in pursuit, intent on dragging them back, but it was too late. The young ones had fled to the water and into the arms of their new families. Those that arrogantly had dared to come to the water’s edge were burned in holy fire, turned to ash before they could scream.

And so it was that every Midsummers Eve that the mermaids returned to the lake to gather the unwanted, the abandoned and the neglected, returning from the sea to bring them home.

Little one with hair of flaming red

Your mother’s crowning glory upon your head

Born of the waters true and fair

So sing the spirits of the air

The roaring seas become your home

All belongs to you, the shells, the weeds all drifting in the foam

O son of the sea, your father returns

The flag of his ship unfurled

I know that he cannot wait to be,

Part of your world

12/07/1941

How do I begin to describe what I have witnessed? Destruction and terror, the likes of which have never been seen. Arizona still smokes, the black billows rising high into the sky while the battered and shredded flag outside the hospital hangs at half mast. The sound of TAPS echos from the airplane hanger across the island. I in my dress blues and Maggie in her black dress now look out over the pristine waters of the harbor at the smoking ruins of Battleship Row. I never thought in all my years that the place my parents had once called home would turn and attack us so viciously. Though it pains me to have seen such a thing, I am an Isei, born and raised here in the land of the free and the home of the brave....and I will fight for it as my samurai ancestors fought for theirs.

06/07/42

Grandmother, you wouldn’t believe it if you were here to witness it. A great victory was won today, a victory that will show that we are not easily beaten down. Our ship sailed at the front of the fleet like a mighty steel dragon and the planes above soared on the wind like eagles. Standing on the deck of the USS Enterprise, I could see hundreds of ships sailing across the blue mirror of the sea.

And then the battle began. The planes screamed and dove from the sky, the explosions of the bombs and flak rattling our ears and shaking the ship. Our machine gun squad jumped to and hurried to the guns, downing one plane after another until they splashed into the ocean. It’s a slow crawl, Grandmother, but I hope that wherever you are, you will keep us safe.

11/20/43 Still at sea with no end in sight. Tarawa has gone red with blood, Grandmother, a terrible sight even from the Enterprise. Every day I’ve heard of nothing but dead and wounded, some coming aboard with awful burns, bruises and injuries from artillery and heavy fire. The thought of them and the rest of the family hangs heavy on my mind. Only yesterday I had received a letter from my brothers and sisters. Crystal City is a far cry away from here. Things may not be the best, but they say they have learned to make do. I still wish I was there Grandmother.....with them and with Maggie.

11/27/44 I pray to return home soon Grandmother. I don’t know how much more of this I can take before I fall apart. If ever there were a place that were to describe hell in the Pacific, it would be Peleliu. When I saw the faces of those men, I had come to see what I should have known all along. We’ve been fighting too long.

02/19/45 It began early this morning, Grandmother. The fight for a tiny, flyspeck of an island began and there is no turning back. I can almost feel the earth quaking in my chest as the guns bombard the island. I wish this war were over Grandmother. I and so many others are ready to go home.

08/15/45 How do I speak of the elation that I feel, Grandmother? When we thought that none of this horror would end....victory. I couldn’t hold back the tears. I didn’t care what some of my shipmates thought. Though it pains me that Mother and Dad’s home city had been leveled by the bomb, I am nonetheless relieved. Though many died, many more have been spared from invasion. At last....at long last, we can go home.

08/15/1948

Three years to the day and here I stand, with my loving wife Maggie and our new son Akira. I’ve been around the world once, seen it all twice. I have fought and persevered as a man should. I am a fighter, a soldier, a husband and a father. I’ve served my time in hell and lived to tell. Those who know will remember....and for those not yet born we hope to tell our story so you will know. Until then.....Ki wo tsukete. Paul Haruki “Hiro” Nagata Petty Officer, United States Navy

Yonah stared at the black and white photos and files that littered the desk in his office. Once again they had clues but no leads. The son of a bitch had gotten away....again. This hadn’t been the first time....but he hoped it would be the last. A knock at the door had silenced his brooding.

“Come in,” he said.

The door creaked open. It was Levi, quiet and timid Levi who everyone had tended to ignore. “Sir?”

Yonah motioned for him to enter the room. “What have you got there?”

“Intelligence,” Levi answered. “You’re gonna want to see this.”

Levi handed Yonah the manilla folder. He pulled out more black and white photos of an odd looking man, his hair full of grey streaks and his eyes surrounded by a pair of black framed glasses. He didn’t look unsuspecting at all, an ordinary, plain clothed civilian at best.

But Yonah looked closer.

He saw it, the full, petulant lips, the razor thin white line of a scar on the corner of his chin. This was him. Any ordinary agent wouldn’t have been able to tell....but Yonah did. There was no mistaking that face, that nasty, arrogant mask that the sociopathic Dr. Faulstich was known for. That man had done more evil than anyone Yonah had ever had the pleasure of bringing to justice. Faulstich had tortured, killed and performed ghastly experiments on people Yonah and many others knew personally. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around that doctor’s throat and suck the life from him...just as the doctor had sucked the life from Yonah’s family.

“Are you sure it’s him?” Levi asked.

“That’s him,” Yonah affirmed. “Where is he?”

“Hiding,” Levi said. “We’ve tracked him to Buenos Aires.”

Levi was suddenly overcome with an expression of determination. “Best you get to work then,” Yonah said.

“What do you want me to do?”

Yonah’s expression became hard set, his eyes glittering at the thought of finally bringing Faulstich to justice. “You hunt down the traitor and bring him back alive,” Yonah said icily. “It’s time that the Bastard of Buchenwald be brought to justice. After the trial there is no question.....the judge will see too it that he hangs inside the city square of Tel Aviv.”

Levi nodded and hurried out the door. At last, justice would be done on those who richly deserved it.

Deacon was eager as ever to get to the school. Days and days of waiting had made him eager with anticipation to attend. The entrance exams had been murder, all that studying and cramming well into the night and worrying about whether or not he could go had worried him. But now that he was here with the others, the excitement was beginning to reach fever pitch.

“First years come this way!” Their teacher announced.

The cloaked figure led them along the twisting, turning path through the woods until they came to the school’s entrance. The steep embankments on both sides of the path were overgrown with mosses, ferns and fallen logs while the trees stretched from the ground to the sky. Deacon wanted to scream with excitement when he saw the school entrance. The tunnel stretched open into a wide, black abyss while the guards stood watch in the conical towers. This was it. Finally, he and the others were crossing from their ordinary lives and into the unknown.

They had done it.

No one said they would be able to do it but they had done it.

That long, hot slog up the hill in the Georgia heat had been murder, but there was no way that the girls were going to chicken out. Not when the last wish of Rory’s grandfather had been to have his ashes carried to the top of Curahee and scattered in the river near the mountain.

Rory, Tess, Katie, Alex and Sunshine had gone early in the morning, just as the sun was coming up and the mists were rolling over the Georgia foothills. School had let out the day before, giving the girls all the time in the world to do what they needed to do. The drive wasn’t long, however it would have been shorter if Katie hadn’t insisted on stopping for a bear claw and a coffee. The whole way there was an absolute blast, miles and miles in the back country full of old cotton fields and farms, Luke Bryan blaring from the radio and the girls screeching the words out like a bunch of screaming parrots.

Finally, they were there.

Up and up they went, following the twisting, turning paths that were littered with sticks, stones and divots that could easily trip a man. Rory had to wonder how Pop-Pop had made it up the hill every day during training. She wished she could have asked.

When they made it to the top, the girls were in awe of the sight. The rolling hills were shrouded in the coiling mists of early morning, the sun bright and yellow hanging overhead. The air was still cool from the night before but in a few hours it would be hotter than hell.

When they finally decided to leave the girls took off, barreling down the path at full speed, belting out the words to the running song Pop-Pop had taught them when they were in middle school. By the time they reached the bottom of the hill, they headed for the river, perching themselves on a large log over the water.

“You ready Rory?” Tess asked.

Rory nodded. Out of her bag she pulled the silver urn that had been engraved with her grandfather’s name: Joseph T. Rostenkowski, 7/23/1921-3/24/2011.

She unscrewed the lid and took a handful of the ashes, scattering them into the river. Tess, Katie, Alex and Sunshine each took their turns, scattering and sprinkling the dusty, grey ashes into the cool river.

“We’ll miss you Pop Pop,” Rory said. “We hope you can rest easy now.”

Shouts of “Curahee!” Filled the air as the girls bid farewell to Rory’s grandfather. He had been to hell and back, jumping into Europe twice, nearly freezing to death in Belgium but living out the rest of his days to the fullest. At last, he could rest easy.

The snow and frost now gone.

Winter’s freezing touch had died away.

Morrigan could at last rest. Summoning the spirits to rid the land of the icy cold and frost had drained her, leaving her exhausted, but the work had been worth it.

The trees could bloom and the dirt could soften. Birds could return to build their nests and the rabbits and hairs could leave their burrows. The smell of fresh air, pine and blooming flowers covered the woods while the river ran free. But for Morrigan, it had been a day of hard work. She lay down in the cool, shuddering grasses, the dark green tendrils brushing against her dry skin. Her bright red hair and evergreen cloak fanning out as she brushed her hand against the new blades of spring grass. She closed her eyes and felt the deep, peaceful taking hold.

Her work was done.

Indira was far too nervous. There was no way....NO WAY that Frank would go for her. Really, how stupid could she think she was. Here he was, a proud and stubborn Marine who had just saved the lives of his fellow soldiers, but what was she? A nurse who tended to the endless rounds of wounded who came in day after day, her clothes stained and bloody from treating the wounded.

He won’t need you....she thought. You know he won’t....he’ll probably go back to New Jersey and marry an Italian girl....just like his family will want....

She took one look at him, resting in his patient’s bed as the ship stayed anchored off the shores of Peleliu, the dull thump of artillery echoing like thunder in her ears. Tears came to her eyes as she saw that handsome, dark haired Marine laid up like a sleeping child. The tropical sun had turned his hair blacker than hers and his sandy tan, that too had gone a shade darker. Despite the ghastly injuries, he was still handsome.

Tears came to her eyes. He was so HANDSOME and she......?? She was only a lowly girl, the daughter of immigrants who had moved to Houston just five years ago from where she had grown up in Chennai. What could a man like Frank Rossi ever want her for?

Indira saw him stir, his chest rising and falling slowly beneath the thin covers. Gingerly, she reached out to brush away a lock of hair from his forehead....But when she saw his eyes flutter open, she bolted and ran for the halls, her black braid streaming behind her.

Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! How could you?! You’ve done it now, Indira Chopra! Now you’ve really done it!

She skidded to a halt, sinking to the bench and burying her face in her hands before her pitiful cries were unleashed. She didn’t care if any of the other nurses or sailors saw her nor did she care if she woke anyone. All she wanted was to be rid of her fears and everything that came with them.

“Didi?”

She looked up and was shocked to see Frank standing close by. Indira turned her tear streaked eyes away. She didn’t want him to see her like this. “I’m sorry Frank,” she said.

“Sorry for what?” He asked. “Didi, what’s wrong?”

“I....I wish I could tell you.”

“Then tell me,” Frank said as he knelt near her, gripping her hand in his. “ I can’t hePlease you if you don’t tell me.”

What was she supposed to say? Indira urged herself to tell him....even if it was painful.

“Do you remember before we left?” She asked. “When we were alone at the campsite up on Diamond Head?”

How could he forget? It had felt like yesterday. “Why?”

“You had told me that....no matter where we were,” Indira said. “We would always have room in each other’s lives for others.....and.....”

Frank smiled and squeezed her hand. “Didi,” he replied, brushing a tear from her eye with his thumb. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. I meant what I said that night. Why would you ever think that I don’t want you?”

“But your sister,” Indira said. “She said that your mother....”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Frank finished. “She doesn’t give a damn what Gloria thinks. I’m sure she’d be honored to have you in the family.”

Indira went wide eyed when Frank stooped to one knee and retrieved something from behind his back. It was her shoe! Her high heeled shoe from her favorite pair! She didn’t even realize she had lost it. Indira clamped a hand over her gaping jaw to keep a squeaky cry from attracting unwanted attention.

“Indira Chopra,” Frank said. “Will you make me the happiest man in the world?”

When he stood, Indira fell into his arms that wrapped around her slender frame, her fingers laced into his black hair. “Yes!” She cried happily. “Yes Francis Rossi, I will marry you!”

Frank felt the tears welling in his eyes as he kissed her temple. After nearly four years of hoping, he too was overjoyed that she, his beloved Didi, had said yes.