tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72449984789123767092024-02-08T09:44:23.390-08:00NECROPOLISA work in progress....Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.comBlogger86125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-57534663495644727922013-07-24T22:50:00.001-07:002013-07-24T22:50:10.958-07:00AUTHOR'S NOTE: Eureka!So, ya know that course I mentioned in the last post that I was taking?<div>
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Well it made something clear.<br /><br />THIS IS NOT HAPPENING NOW.</div>
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In order to take part in the course I was going to have to up my output to at least once a week. And while I do have a few installments banked, I would run out soon. Really soon. And in order to avoid that I was going to have to write more - of course. And in order to do that I was going to have to refamiliarize myself with where I was at in the narrative, as well as the recent developments and all my notes on what was upcoming and so on. And THAT was one big task. I <i>could</i> manage it. But only at the exclusion of other things - one of which is a screenplay I really need to finish for my professional health, and there is happy threat of another needing my attention in the near future. Not to mention that stalling research on another project would be counter productive at this point....</div>
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So I am officially pulling the plug. For now.<br /><br />I am probably going to take the blog offline. As I was reading I came across all manner of typos and other errors that I would prefer to fix and that is a big task in its own right. I don't plan on quitting, but it will have to be in its own time that I get back to this. The time will be right sometime, just not now. There is a lot of work to be done and I need to do it when I can do it right.</div>
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Thanks for paying attention.</div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-20843738859509036192013-07-18T13:32:00.001-07:002013-07-18T13:32:22.425-07:00AUTHOR'S NOTE: What have I done!?!?!!Let me just say this outright: I sit here on the brink of failure... at least so far as <i>Necropolis</i> goes.<div>
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I know I've posted several times before in tones so very nearly the same as I am expressing here and in spite of it, nothing of much substance has followed, or at least when it has, it hasn't sustained.<br /><br />But, once again, here are the bullet points:<br /><br />- I haven't given up.</div>
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- I do know the long arc of this narrative. I know the ultimate end (way off in the distance at the end of Book III) as well as the end of the current book. I know the important benchmarks along the way. There are things that I am so excited to get around to writing, once their time comes. But there is a lot of detail to fill in and discover.</div>
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- I have the best intentions to finish.</div>
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- I have a few bits in the bank ready to go... though I can't explain why I haven't posted them yet.</div>
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Mostly what this all comes down to is that I have underestimated just how much of my time was going to be consumed by being a father. Cliche. I know. And being a Dad is not the only thing that has a higher priority in my life than <i>Necropolis</i>. </div>
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<i>Necropolis</i> isn't even the second in line on my WRITING priority list. But for a dozen weeks or so at least, that is about to change. I've signed up for a course. "<a href="http://www.rebeccacoleman.ca/2013/07/18/monetizing-your-blog-2/monetizeyrblog-1-treating-your-blog-like-a-job/">Monetizing Your Blog</a>" offered by my friend Rebecca Coleman. Rebecca is pretty high on my list of favourite people I know. And not just because she did a spectacular job as the publicist for my feature film <i><a href="http://www.provostpictures.com/">Beast of Bottomless Lake</a>, </i>although that certainly was an important stage in our friendship.</div>
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Anyhow, it is a skill I want to learn more about and with several blogs on the go for various purposes, it is probably worth my time to fill in some gaps in my knowledge. My biggest issue, coming out of the gate is that I don't really think any of my blogs are ideal candidates for monetizing. <i>Necropolis</i>, <i><a href="http://greatfakes.blogspot.ca/">Great Scenes from Fake Movies</a> </i> and a third one which I have yet to officially launch (tentatively titled <i>Galileo</i>) as I am still in the research stage of, are all essentially creative writing. <a href="http://bestpicturevideo.blogspot.ca/" style="font-style: italic;">Best Picture</a> is not so much a blog as a video series, and has been even more neglected than <i>Necropolis</i> since the tiniest roommate arrived - not to mention that each post takes over two weeks to create when things are going well. (For the record there is fresh footage in the can for a new episode, I just have to find the time to edit it.) <i><a href="http://assholeskeptic.blogspot.ca/">Confessions of an Asshole Skeptic</a> </i>really only gets attention when I have something to say in the world of science advocacy - and have time to say it. Not to mention that it is a niche that is extremely well filled by people better qualified than me - including a client of mine, so monetizing it would be a fools game. <i><a href="http://thetruthandthesignal.blogspot.ca/">The Truth and the Signal</a> </i>is pretty much random, personal, entirely subject to whim and by that definition brand-less, so what would be the point? And I haven't even mentioned any of the other blogs that have effectively, if not actually reached end of life - most notably the <a href="http://ogopogomovie.blogspot.ca/">blog for the film mentioned above</a>.</div>
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I've only mentioned the blogs of course. I also have some client work to attend to as well as several screenplays on the assembly line. One screenplay is in the hands of folks I want to get money from - getting it to that point was a big chunk of effort. A second one is in re-drafts and has been the toughest and most promising thing I've ever written - but there is a long way to go on that one. And beyond that there are no less than three others that I intend to set-upon as soon as I can shoehorn the time into my schedule.</div>
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The scary thing is I actually get no less than a dozen hours each week to focus on this stuff outside of my care-giving time and it isn't enough. But don't catch me complaining.</div>
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Anyhow... I admit I wish <i>Galileo</i> was ready to be the piece I would focus on in my monetizing course, but starting with something that has a back-catalogue is clearly the way to go. So <i>Necropolis </i>it is. And who knows, maybe these few months of refocusing on it will be the impetus to finish that was missing? But I do admit, I am feeling a bit "what have I committed myself to now?" about this. I have to do at least one post a week and I really don't want to have to resort to more Author's Notes bemoaning the state of the project. Of course there was a time when I kept up a pace of 2-3 posts a week - back when I wasn't a primary care-giver. I can do this. I can do this.</div>
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- Kennedy</div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-66443304006143407822012-09-21T15:30:00.000-07:002013-07-21T13:43:46.466-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 20 - Installment: i<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: left;">
<st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: medium; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> </span></st1:place></st1:city><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;">Edmond was standing over the toilet, shortly after dawn when he heard the knock at the door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He did what he could to will the flow to stop as quickly as possible, which was successful in the middle of the second, more insistent knock.<br /><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Buckling his pants as he exited the bathroom, he nearly tripped over Carly who was coming out of the guest bedroom rubbing her eyes.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Who is it?” she croaked at him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Shhhh, Carly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have to be quiet.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> He picked her up and tip-toed to the door and peered through the eye-hole.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> A woman in a dark coat and shades stood on the porch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two well dressed men in shades stood by a black sedan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city> didn’t know what bureau or agency they came from, but they couldn’t possibly be more obvious or typical.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> As stealthily as possible, <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city> turned on his toe and took the twelve long strides it took to cover the distance between the front door and the French doors as the back of the small bungalow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> He wasn’t surprised to find when he pulled back the curtain that another agent was standing blocking his way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was surprised that she was the spitting image of the woman at the front door.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> <em>That’s beyond cookie-cutter-agent syndrome. </em></span><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">He thought.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Twins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hot, twin agents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sexy.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> There was no other exit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t have his service firearm, even if he would have pulled it on a fellow officer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> It had been days.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He and Carly were clean.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew it, the authorities ought to know it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was time to face the music.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> He calmly unlocked and opened the sliding door.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Good morning Lieutenant Edmond.” The woman’s tone matched the November morning air.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> Carly sensed the disruption in the calm she’d had hiding at Bev William’s home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She hugged <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city>’s neck tight and began to whimper.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was the most emotive he had seen her since her mother’s death.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Good morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “You’re both going to be coming with us.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Yeah, I assumed as much.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Good. We were hoping we wouldn’t have to be forceful.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Show us the way.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> The two men sat in the front of the car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman joined <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city> and Carly in the back.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> As they drew away from the curb the woman produced two black blindfold bags.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Please don’t let this alarm you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are in no danger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the location of our destination, is I’m afraid, prohibitively secret.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: medium; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Despite her assurance he was a little alarmed.</span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Who the hell are you people?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “That information is also more than I can currently tell you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> The sedan circled the block for several minutes, clearly avoiding giving away the least bit of information about the direction they were to be travelling, while <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city> convinced the anxious Carly to put the bag over her head. He only managed to convince her by putting his on first with false reassurance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> His intention had been to try to keep oriented, so as to have some notion of where they were going, but by the time he had calmed Carly down and got her blindfold in place he had been too distracted and had no sense of where they were heading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One thing was for certain, it was not a short drive.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> It wasn’t until nearly twenty minutes had passed before a thought occurred to him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Hey, where’s your other partner?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Excuse me?” responded the woman.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> “The other lady.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your twin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t see another car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> You didn't</span> just leave her behind?”<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> </span><span style="line-height: 200%;">“Hmmmm.” She half-laughed with a bemused velvet voice.</span></span></div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-77675600923429721082012-09-14T15:30:00.000-07:002012-10-14T21:16:38.302-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 19 - Installment: ii<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Sarah was on one hand impressed. On the other she felt the stunning pressure of mass scrutiny. The computer prowess of the Lazarus was staggering. The processing power behind their network was to the mainframes at the university as those same mainframes were to her laptop. </span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <em>These people are really high-tech. Like super-tech. Could they actually be running quantum processors? </em></span></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Whoever was doing their hacking was elegant. </span><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The databases the Lazarus had direct clandestine access to was impressive. The head of IT, Maureen Deng, had walked Sarah through.<br /><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You can sort through the records of Canada Post, any of the phone companies, the hospitals, VPD, RCMP or any other the other police forces across <st1:country -region="-region" w:st="on">Canada</st1:country>, the <st1:country -region="-region" w:st="on">US</st1:country>, <st1:place w:st="on">Europe</st1:place> and – well, pretty much everywhere. Ditto Canadian Forces and the other militaries, at least their surface level records. The secret stuff we have to hack on a case by case basis. We are all pretty much as far out on the bleeding edge of cyber security as you can get. Pretty much any database you can name, we’ve already got full instant, up to date backdoor access to. Totally over the top spy-novel fiction type access. Except it’s real.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sarah was surprised at the older woman’s willingness to help – to basically give Sarah carte blanche over her silicon baby. Here Sarah was the young turk, come in to potentially show the woman up using her own system. Then again, there was no saying she would succeed. It could simply be a matter of Maureen Deng giving Sarah enough rope to hang herself with.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Maureen sat at Sarah’s side to assist her navigating the idiosyncrasies of the Lazarus’ system, but her presence weighed heavy on the thin girl. Also observing – and no doubt ready to redirect and advise her actions were Henri, who felt like the closest thing she had to an ally in the room; a second older man, not as old as Henri, fiftyish (though Sarah was admittedly poor at guessing ages of anyone over thirty) who, though he spoke little, was treated with enough deference that Sarah didn’t need to be told that he was in charge; two other women rounded out the group – one stout, though hardly unhealthily so, who had introduced herself as the Head of Intelligence; the second woman was lean, angular, nearly as porcelaneous as Sarah and gave her the creeps.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sarah was accustomed used to working with no one looking over her shoulder – either alone or with someone who was otherwise distracted.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>In short order they had covered the rather obvious fact that any vein of inquiry that Sarah could recall from the opening twenty minutes of any TV police procedural had already been run as a matter of standard procedure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sarah was here to exercise her more creative data searching and sorting insights.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So the last place facial recognition has him is the bank machine – which we already know from the banking records.”<br /><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s right.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pamela Guerin, the Intelligence Head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“From there the both of them have disappeared completely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Which is not in and of itself hard for one person.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “It would require a certain amount of either luck, knowledge or planning to make it out of the city without getting caught on an accessible camera somewhere.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Henri advanced the conversation. “So chances are they didn’t go far.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Which means one of two things. Either they holed up in some off-the-grid surveillance blackhole – a wooded park or an abandoned building….”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Sarah's</span> thought at Guerin’s mention sent a shiver of recollection up Sarah’s spine. “But that would be difficult to maintain with a young child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kid would simply get impatient.”<br /><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So, the other option?” Prompted Sarah.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “A private building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some place secure, at least moderately comfortable and where a seven year old isn’t going to go stir crazy – or if she were to, it could be reasonably contained.”<br /><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“If he has an ounce of survival smarts he’d ditch the kid.” The strong, angular woman.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “That doesn’t seem to be in his playbook. I’d say he’s protecting her. Besides, she hasn’t shown up. The problem is, that assuming they have found a locked door to hide behind, it isn’t anywhere that either of them are known to be associated with.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And that, is what we want you to try to ascertain, Sarah.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> She absorbed the information and thought for a long moment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Okay, so he left the hospital…?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “The last confirmed contact with <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city> was around 8:15. It wasn’t until nearly nine AM that it was noted that they weren’t present.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Obviously his home is out of the question.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Absolutely. Though it is assumed he was there. The apartment is right around the corner from the ATM. It appeared to have been left in a hurry. Who knows what he took, beyond the rarely used credit card he used for the cash advance – the rest of his personal ID was left behind with his wallet at the hospital. In any case <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Edmond</st1:city></st1:place> and the girl beat the VPD to his apartment and out again.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Hmm. So, the theory is, that he has someone to turn to, who isn’t apparent from looking at the rest of his life - someone who could help them hide?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “That’s right.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Who he would have to have contacted once he was a fugitive – ‘cause it wasn’t like he was prepared to go into quarantine.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Fair assumption.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “So, assuming he made no calls from his apartment…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “No land line.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “And his cellphone…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Also at the hospital.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Well, this is obvious. You guys really didn’t need me to figure this out.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “What?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Payphone.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “For starters, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">which </i>payphone is an impossible question to answer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can’t run voice recognition - we don’t have a sample of his voice, although we could most likely get one simply enough – but even so, calls aren’t recorded as a matter of course.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “You have a two hour window between when he disappeared, and when he used the teller.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There aren’t many routes by which the two of them could have crossed from VGH to the <st1:place w:st="on">West End</st1:place>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That will limit the number of phones to check.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “No wallet, no cell, he probably had no pocket change either.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Better yet. He more than likely called after leaving his apartment.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> As it turned out, it wasn’t Maureen Deng who felt like she was being shown up on her own turf.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pamela Guerin, was clearly getting more agitated at each step of Sarah’s analysis of the situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “How would you propose prioritizing the phone records we check? The options are daunting.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “The ATM he used was a third party machine. He wasn’t heading in a specific direction in order to use his regular bank. So that implies a general direction. Say… one hundred and twenty degrees fanning out from his apartment in the direction of the bank machine?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “The number of phones grows logarithmically as the distance increases.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “He probably called sooner than later, he had to settle on a plan fast.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Guerin wasn’t finished critiquing Sarah’s approach.<br /><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You are clever, but there is one more problem with your thinking.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Please.” Sarah encouraged.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “We haven’t got a clue who he would phone. We can check all the calls made on all the phones in the search area. We are pretty much certain he wouldn’t call anyone we know he is affiliated with, so how do we know which one of those potential calls is the single one we are looking for? You can massage the data in a thousand ways, but never get an answer. You simply can’t program a computer to tease that sort of connection out.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Sarah refused to be snared by the sheen of antagonism.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was being tested and refused to be thrown off by an emotional response.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Whoever these people were, she felt that she needed them and it behoved her to make them feel reciprocally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “You are very right. I’ve found in my experience that there are certain types of information that are best – only, even – gleaned by a certain level of intuitive assessment. Computers are the best tool for filtering and cross referencing massive amounts of data, but aren’t so good for the noise. Fortunately, the human mind is a pattern seeking wonder. That can be a hinderance – how many hours have been wasted pondering human faces on toast?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two dots and a line under it, are just two dots and a line under it, but our minds see eyes and a mouth. But it also allows us to make connections in the absence of repetition – indeed we can see patterns in the absence of a pattern.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Explain what you are suggesting please, Sarah.” Henri coaxed her back towards her main point.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “We search the phone records digitally. Prioritize the calls by proximity and time to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city>’s use of the ATM and in a fan pattern extending away from his apartment. Then we simply look at the data ourselves and see what stands out. We might just see something. If not, then things do get tougher.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> By the time Sarah was done talking Maureen Deng had already initiated the search.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The data started springing up on screen for all to see.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Well…” muttered a pleasantly surprised Pamela Guerin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Indeed, ‘well.’ Spoke up the man who was in charge. “That does seem an awful coincidence.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Clearly she had been right, something in the data had leapt off the screen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sarah herself had yet to recognize it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She scanned the call-records, one by one down the list wondering if she’d be able to see what they had.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> And there it was – less than two dozen calls into the search – a name she recognized from the news reports about the hospital outbreak, the reporter Bev Williams.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Before we invade the home of an innocent party, can we corroborate the connection?” asked the man in charge.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Everyone knows <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city> is in recovery,” started Guerin, taking back the point position on her own job, “our information is that Williams is too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Can we place them at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting together? Or is the 'Anonymous' part going to pose a problem?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Now Sarah really got to see the computing power of the Lazarus at full throttle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maureen Deng started a cross-referenced facial recognition search on both Williams and <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond going back years</st1:place></st1:city>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In less than sixty seconds they had a list of sixteen separate incidents where both subjects had been captured on security cameras within two blocks of one another within ninety minutes of one another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another, simpler search confirmed that in thirteen of those occasions, an AA meeting occurred nearby, starting and/or ending within the same ninety minute window.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Before he left the room to follow the man in charge, Guerin and the angular woman, Henri put his hand on Sarah’s shoulder as if to say ‘you did well.’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span><br />
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> His actual words were “Someone will find a bed for you.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She needed it.</span><br />
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<a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2012/09/book-first-part-two-chapter-20.html"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Chapter 20</span></a></div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-18327159324260266042012-09-07T15:30:00.000-07:002012-10-14T21:14:22.853-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 19 - Installment: i<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The escape was revealed shortly after three A.M. this morning when a security guard failed to check in on time during his rounds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The massacre on the CDC ward was discovered minutes later and security authorities report that the missing quarantined patients could not have been missing long at the time of discovery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The security schedule was simply too precise to allow for a large gap.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The police and military have closed traffic on all bridges and tunnels and set-up a secure perimeter within <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Vancouver</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">City</st1:placetype></st1:place> limits.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Members of the public are recommended to stay off the streets and keep as secure as possible within their homes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For Canadian News Net, I am Bev Williams.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Shit.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pamela Guerin drew out the epithet like a slow leak.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The department heads were a mixed group, bleary-eyed and still waking up, showing the effects of burning the midnight oil and in some cases piped in by video-chat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I need to know all new information you have uncovered.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’ve forwarded everything I have to you already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mostly it's been the news as it has unfolded from VGH.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The media has done the standard digging and profiling of the major players.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Patient Zero at the hospital, Detective Shale, was not in fact patient zero.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He contracted the disease from a woman in an investigation he and his partner were conducting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The woman’s husband, Jeremy Meyers, attacked a jogger.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's assumed that the husband was infected too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shale’s partner is the missing patient – the original missing patient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The minor he escaped with was the Meyers’ daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is no known victim before Jeremy Meyers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And nothing in my research contradicts the press on that, but it's early in my research….”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Alright.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Abner?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Marcel turned to his victamortologist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Not much that I can add.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I received a copy of the autopsies of both Meyers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mr. Meyers’ died of uncertain causes, possibly a defensive assault from his victim or possibly the disease.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The wife was shot by Lieutenant Edmond – the officer who is missing with the Meyers’ girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But – and this is the strange part – both of the Meyers as well as Shale…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Carry on.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It's damned strange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They – their bodies - degenerated quickly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First into a gelatinous mess, then liquid, then they evaporated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bloody un-natural.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Un-natural?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are aware we fight vampires, aren’t you?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clayton Savage, head of a department known as <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Interface</i>, whose primary duties included covering the tracks of the Lazarus group where it interfered with the appearances of a “normal” society.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Any information whatsoever on the decomposition?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In none of the initial cases were the authorities in charge of the cadavers prepared for what happened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently the gaseous final stage was pretty noxious, but that’s all we have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Since then there has been some co-ordination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bleak assumption was that when the first of the quarantined victims reached that stage the CDC would be ready for it, but now… who knows where they will be when they die.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Marcel cast his gaze over the other department heads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Business, and Acquisitions were both administrative and only in on the conversation as a courtesy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Systems, Harm Reduction, T & S, Clandestine Ops and Interface were in the loop, but their purviews wouldn’t be relevant until if and when a decision on action was made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Science?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The General Science department was a unique entity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Virtually the entire department, apart from its head was made up of either outsourced advisors, or researchers who worked under other companies in the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Lancaster</st1:city></st1:place> group umbrella.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In all cases those subordinates were entirely unaware of the Lazarus’ actual purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The head of General Science, Caitlyn Stone, had a tremendous capacity for sourcing the expertise needed as it was required.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Practically by definition, she was out of her depth in this circumstance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her responsibility was to advise on the vast array of possible known science, with the exclusion of that which was strictly known by the select few people in the world who studied the science of vampires – the Victamortology department.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“This is an unusual situation, Marcel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Normally Abner and my domains are only related at the fringe and by the scientific method.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But on this count it seems that the cutting edge of widely known science intersects with what you have his team working on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result, for the moment our information is for all practical purposes the same.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So be it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pamela?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There is very little I’ve uncovered that the authorities are keeping a lid on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They really have no idea where Lieutenant Edmond is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His last known location was a bank machine a few blocks from his apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was two days ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is still officially on BOLO, but the tenor at VPD is that he has slipped the net.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they are fortunate he and the Meyers girl, Carly, may have gone to ground within city limits and may come up in the upgraded search they have for the new escapees.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“And what do we know about them?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Not much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’ve got personal details on each of them, but you can be certain that the police will have their personal domains staked out tighter than our numbers could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If we are going to find them first, we have to find a short-cut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An alternate route.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we have to do it fast before the disease progresses to its final stage.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“And they literally evaporate.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Filled in Marcel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Precisely.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Any chance that happened to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Edmond</st1:city></st1:place> and the girl.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Can’t be ruled out entirely.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You doubt it.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I do.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Knowing their fate could be useful.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So could knowing what they know.” The head of Intelligence added.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“While we are playing hunches…”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Henri spoke up from behind Marcel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Henri?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I think we may have a resource that could track <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Edmond</st1:place></st1:city> and the girl down.”</span></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2012/09/book-first-part-two-chapter-19_14.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Installment ii</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-72867865038716728412012-09-06T07:00:00.000-07:002012-09-05T22:49:10.578-07:00AUTHOR'S NOTE: No I hadn't forgotten you...<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">So it has been since March. Yeah, that's bad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I swore that I was going to be moving forward more regularly. I didn't. And that is worse.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have a list of things that kept me from writing, not the least of which was that I found myself in a bit of a corner that I had some trouble solving - and which resulted in a rewrite of a portion of a previous chapter (I'll note that appropriately elsewhere.). I also went on vacation (in May) and took my laptop with me with the intention of getting a bunch of writing done, but on day three, my 18 month old daughter accidentally screwed up my boot sequence so badly that I had to wipe the whole drive (once I got home) and everything I had written up to day three was lost, while the laptop was effectively relegated to being an overweight phone and iPod charging dock for the duration of the voyage. Once home I spent an inordinate amount of time solving a truly spectacular string of technical issues for a client - a task that took much of my evenings that I would normally be writing during. By the time I had all that out of the way, I was truly beyond the habit of working on Necropolis at all. I gradually worked my way back into it, refamiliarizing myself with where the story was and what the problem was that I had to solve. I spent many nights after the light was off pondering how to get past the issue. I never totally quit, the whole time. Other minor issues, too trivial each on their own added up, and now here I am, in September and I haven't posted a chapter in seven months. Yeesh!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Well, that is about to change. At least for the moment.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I have finished part two. There are going to be new installments, starting tomorrow and following each Friday until part two is over. (I haven't broken it up yet, but I suspect that the two remaining chapters are going to come in a total of three parts.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In all that time thinking, I've had some serious shuffling of ideas. Part three is going to be focussed on something different than I had planned. Something that was always part of the story, but not made as important as I now intend. From there, I'm not sure what will happen yet. I can either finish the story I had planned for <em>Book: the First</em> by expanding to a fourth part, or I can shift that part of the story into <em>Book: the Second</em>. I'm not sure at this point which is going to be most feasible. It will depend a lot on how complete <em>Book: the First</em> feels as I get to the end. No doubt start the second volume with what was intended to be the climax of the previous book will start things off with a bang, but it might be a structural nightmare. Only time will tell. I may even discover a third option - who knows.</span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-5305369991715379582012-03-12T10:36:00.000-07:002012-03-11T22:36:29.580-07:00INSIGHT: Moving towards an end on a wavering course<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I realise “being busy” has become my go-to excuse for not posting new chapters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish it were otherwise, but there is no other explanation I have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you have pursued any kind of writing to the point of researching wisdom on the craft of writing you have no doubt come across the sentiment that a true writer makes the time to write – finds the discipline to write regularly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You are going to have to take it on faith that that is not the case here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My issue is not so much a matter of discipline for writing, but a huge disconnect between the amount of writing I can complete now that I am a family-man and the level of output I used to be able to maintain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gone are the days of locking myself away in my room for three days straight and coming out with a well-polished first draft stage or screen-play.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t imagine how I could possibly make that happen again now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I certainly can’t make it happen at home, and the chances of retreating to do the same are remote at best.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do still find the time to write, but the reality is that my efforts are spread too thin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I focus my main energy where I must and rarely is that on the novel I am serializing on-line with no pressure of fixed deadlines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So as a result, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Necropolis</i> gets neglected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But not entirely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do nudge it forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Necropolis</i> does get more of my pillow-time imagining as I fall asleep than any single other project, and I do manage to find an hour or two to actually get words down.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I plan to do so tonight, (I am writing this on a lunch break – not enough time to really allow myself to get in the zone the way <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Necropolis </i>really requires.) and hopefully I will actually finish the second and third parts of the chapter I am currently writing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">are</i> mapped out on paper, ready to be fleshed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once I have finished the chapter I will begin posting it – probably three installments – and when it is done, part two of book one will be complete.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But that is not why I began writing this update.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This morning I was listening to <a href="http://hw.libsyn.com/p/6/3/1/6315381934514e96/skepticast2012-03-10.mp3?sid=5569bbe24b71c74747965a00b9b2f447&l_sid=19482&l_eid=&l_mid=2936259&expiration=1331536938&hwt=6e9f82d0ae857ab4786f76a8bef8ee92">an interview with Scott Sigler on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe</i></a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was quite interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I liked it a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have never missed an episode of SGU and Zigler is a writer who, as one of the legion of online writers, I am pretty much obligated to respect.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Towards the end of the interview, the conversation drifts to a discussion of the merits of two story telling styles.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It hit close to home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Specifically, they began by discussing how both <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lost</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Battlestar Galactica</i> ended up solving their plots with a weak magical explanation that was in both cases infamously unsatisfying.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Myself, I wasn’t terribly disappointed by either – I suppose I had already told myself that there was no way the shows could live up to their set ups.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I recognize that both ended considerably less well than their promise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The gist of the conversation revolved around how these two largely science-framed tales which both promised that they knew where they were headed turned around and “solved” their plots by resorting to a mystical solution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is a MUCH bigger discussion than I have patience for here, but it did lead to relevant thoughts for me.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The interview went on to reference a George Martin (<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Game of Thrones</i>) quote: something to the effect of there being two types of story tellers – the first is the architect who builds the foundation with the intention of it supporting the frame as designed and which itself will ultimately support the walls and decor according to the blueprints; the second is the gardener who plants seeds, then sees where they grow and applies care, coaxing, weeding and trimming as necessary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the case of Martin, acknowledges that he is a gardener, despite the appearance of architecture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the cases of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lost</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Battlestar Galactica</i> they claimed in various ways to be architects, but in the end it appeared as though they were gardeners.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I think I must defend both <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lost</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Battlestar Galactica</i> on the grounds that I have a fairly good idea of where I am headed with <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Necropolis</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have a notebook that is carefully partitioned into sections for arcs of each of the major characters, many secondary characters (including a few who won’t appear until Book Two) and even a few tertiary ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have pages for notes for each part of each of the three books.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you were to flip through the notebook (No. You can’t.) you would find that the early portions are significantly more detailed than the later ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the last part of book three does have a clearly definable conclusion and I do have a rough plan of how I am getting there.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But here is the catch... (a catch I suspect both <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lost</i> and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Battlestar Galactica</i> both got caught by)... the individual elements do take on a life of their own (a writer’s cliché, I know, but not any the less true for being a cliché) and head off in independent directions that are hard to impossible to control.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Note that I never originally planned for Sarah to be a major character... but there she is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also, just his past week had a realization about another character – one that I cannot discuss much at all here as I would be spoiling portions of book three (but, see I do know where it really impacts in the plan) – that fundamentally changes the arc of said character as well as one other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This latter change I cannot control without rewinding and re-writing parts of the past book and ultimately weakening them... and that is not an acceptable solution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have written said character in such a manner that they MUST change the way the latter stages of the plot unfold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either I change my intended destination – a huge change – or I must pay-off the promises of the character in question by giving them a significantly different role in how the endgame plays out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I, at least, have the relative luxury I have provided myself, by allowing for some minor retroactive rewriting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On a TV show, that tool does not exist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You cannot go back and reshoot an inconvenient scene in the first season once it is the fifth season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is easy to get dragged off course by increments, and hard to get things to work right when you are dragged off.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I guess I am building a greenhouse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a structure, but there is a lot of growing going on within.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(And to stretch the metaphor further, the glass walls are allowing the reader to look in and see how progress is going.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is my intention to maintain my intended destination at the end of book three… but there will no doubt be some meandering from the path along the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There has been meandering already, but thus far I have managed to make sure that all changes (that I am aware of – some sneak up on you by degrees) serve the story as I have had it imagined for years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I suppose I have some more leeway than <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Lost </i>or<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> Battlestar Galactica</i> as there has always been a sliver of inherent magic (so to speak) in my story.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I am trying to make my vampire tale as sciencey as possible, it IS after all about vampires.</span></span></div>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-39139037461605982742012-02-06T22:00:00.000-08:002012-10-14T21:13:00.346-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 18 - Installment: iii<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Details taken care of, Vala sat before the visual-radio and began working out the new world she had awoken in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No dials to change the station.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The radio appeared to only show current events.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing cultural.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No succession of programming, merely more of the same hour after hour.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Gradually the confusing picture of affairs began to show form.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If <country -region="-region" w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Germany</place></country> had not lost the war outright, it had certainly failed to maintain the planned Reich.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The <country -region="-region" w:st="on"><place w:st="on">United States</place></country> appeared to have an undue influence in the world, though perhaps that was merely from the perspective of their Northern neighbour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clearly the States were at war with someone – it seemed probably a Muslim nation, but it was unclear which… maybe even a new one she had never heard of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">There was much that needed more investigation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>New jargon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A ubiquitous term, “internet,” that was either a universal encyclopaedia or a massive telephone system; something similar called “the web” which may have had something to do with a world wide postage system called “the ‘E’ Mail” which in turn may have been related to “’I’ Phoning” which appeared to be separate from the internet… probably.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And apparently the Earth had moved closer to the sun (which could not be good for her) as evidenced by the resulting global warming.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seven billion people… how could that have happened?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clearly vampires weren’t culling the herd.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though it helped explain how this little name on the map, “<city w:st="on"><place w:st="on">Vancouver</place></city>,” could have become a metropolitan centre.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">So very much more to understand, it will take some time to sort it all out.</span></i></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">The big news was vampires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a hospital in the city. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clearly they were nothing like her, but superficially there were similarities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They feasted on blood, but propagated by their bite, not by siring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They appeared to be new – or at least the world had been unaware of them before now.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Her imagination tumbled end over end as she considered the possibilities.</span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">How fortunate for me to wake here, now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have other nosferatu known about this new breed?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or has it sprung up in the knowledge of man and vampire simultaneously?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Are there even other nosferatu here?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most likely, but have they the wit to capitalize on this?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or what if this is part of someone’s larger plan?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doubtlessly they couldn’t have planned for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Who am I to turn my back on a little chaos?</span></i><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Getting herself back into the city was a simple affair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finding the hospital was somewhat more difficult, though the goodness of human nature worked in her favour as the night’s drunken revellers were friendly and keen to give a lost stranger directions.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">As she had seen on the visual radio, the entrances were all blocked and well guarded my modern foot soldiers that didn’t in fact look terribly different from their predecessors from the mid 20<sup>th</sup> century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Rifles and helmets remained the vogue.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Another thing that had not changed was the expectation that someone might scale an outside wall without aid or deliberation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A dark corner was all she required for the first forty feet, beyond that – people rarely look up.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Inside, practically the entire population of the hospital remained in quarantine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vala could hide in plain sight among the staff and patients, and virtually none looked askance at her apparel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most were sleeping, but many still roamed the halls discussing their predicament, forming uninformed opinions of how long they might remain, or quietly wandering, losing sleep over the same questions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From snatches of conversation, it didn’t take long to zero in on where the truly infected were being kept.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Stealthily she crept into the ward and with judicious application of broken necks and, where possible, the luxurious strength-building draining of an unwary attendant, the immediate guards and caretakers of the half-dozen or so freshly born vampires were dispatched.</span></div>
</span><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Vala knew she wouldn’t have long before her invasion would be discovered, but it would not take long for her to recruit.</span>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">She lost several precious minutes working out the procedure for opening the sealed doors – an overly complicated system in her mind, when lock and key would have worked just as well… or as poorly as the case would be.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">The door opened with a hiss.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Inside the room a man sat awake, strapped to his bed.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">As she crossed the floor to him, he examined her face with appalled curiosity.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">She found the clasp holding down his arm and whispered a promise to him.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">“Free….”</span><br />
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<a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2012/09/book-first-part-two-chapter-19.html"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Chapter 19</span></a></div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-30061245639400411932012-02-03T08:00:00.000-08:002012-09-05T23:09:50.693-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 18 - Installment: ii<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> The child had escaped again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vala had been livid.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">If it wasn’t for that foolish father of hers putting up a fight.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> It had not been a particularly effective fight, but it had been enough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His meagre weapon had been ineffective offensively, but it provided him the slightest deterrent defence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being less than a day out of seventy-year torpor, Vala was not eager to return with an ad hoc stake lodged in her heart.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> She had been forced to wait for her moment, to wait for the father to commit, and then she struck with absolutely lethal intent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had taken, in total, less than a minute for her to dispatch the man, but her still weakened state seduced her to drink more deeply than she could afford to at the moment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The combined delay gave the girl a big head start.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fresh blood was saturating Vala’s senses, she couldn’t pick up on a scent among far too many other nearby human traces.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That curse of cities had not changed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Vala ran down the smoothly paved street like a panther on the hunt, reaching an intersection and seeking any sign, visual, audible or olfactory, of the frail creature who had twice slipped away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing, and the trail was getting colder on the wind by the second.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was futile.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was gone.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> The father was still in their home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His heart was no longer beating, but she was no purist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The blood would still be warm, and she needed still to build her strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vala drained him as thoroughly as possible, and then began inspecting the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It would provide, for the moment, a safe place to stay.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Her own clothes were unwearable if she were to go out in public.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were falling apart, and were decades out of style.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The girl’s clothes were too small.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was apparently no mother, though there were coloured photographs of a woman, presumably the man’s wife, once healthy, then gradually wan and thin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tuberculosis perhaps.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man’s clothes were oversized, but not troublesomely so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Certainly wearing gentleman’s clothing would draw attention until she could find more feminine attire, but she would only be about in the dark.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Surely it would be less conspicuous than the foul half-rotten, half-charred garments she had – both to look at and to smell.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Smell…. she had to bathe.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bathing room and water closet were awkwardly combined in one room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">How can one be expected to cleanse in the presence of such a filthy construct?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And clearly the size of the bathtub has been sacrificed in order to accommodate space for the flush toilet.</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Being a pragmatic creature at her core, she suffered through a luxurious hot bath – the first heat of significance she had felt in nearly three quarters of a century.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The funk of those years was more deeply set than she expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Clearly a second or even third bath would be required to get out the deepest odours.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> The bed in the master bedroom looked fantastic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The draperies were thick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To retire here would be exquisite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But before she could consider that, she would need to find a more secure place to rest until she could be certain that no-one else was likely to enter the house in the middle of the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A cluttered storage space in the subterranean level of the home would suffice for now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2012/02/book-first-part-two-chapter-18_06.html">Installment iii</a></span></div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-26954943040890762612012-01-30T09:00:00.000-08:002012-09-05T23:16:55.862-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 18 - Installment: i<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> The nightmare deepened.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> Three summers ago while attempting to break onto a roof for no good reason but to see if he could,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had fallen off a ladder. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had not been pretty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Awkwardly, he had fallen face first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But his face was fine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If his legs had not gone in different directions he probably would have either been dead or at least in a wheelchair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had been a permanent ladder – affixed to the wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His left leg went between the wall and a rung while the rest of his weight toppled forward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The f</span>ibula is not made to withstand leverage of that sort, and once the fibula has snapped, the tibia doesn’t stand a chance against nearly the full falling weight of a two hundred pound man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Muscle and tendons however are surprisingly strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> He had hung from the meat of his leg screaming in dire agony until a pair of security guards found him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The two guards called for an ambulance and lifted him down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Breaking his leg had hurt, but getting said leg unhooked made him wish (briefly) that he had died, or at least broken his neck so he could feel nothing below his waist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As they carried him down to street-level he watched his foot dangle like it was made of soggy foam rubber.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knew that this one mistake would permanently change the course of his life.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Titanium implants helped his leg heal – keeping his skeletal position as close to true as possible – and they did a good job.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, the screws had lost their seating and though he walked better than he would have guessed, the bugling skin where the metal was gradually pushing further and further out from his bones was getting grotesque and felt more than a little disconcerting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The time had come to remove the metal from his body before it became an actual cause for concern.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was why he was in the hospital.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> The surgery itself had been a cinch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No complications.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They almost didn’t keep him a second night, but the surgeon had decided last minute that they had a light patient load and that an extra night of observation was prudent without being excessive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For his part, he figured <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">we’ve got socialized healthcare in <place w:st="on"><country -region="-region" w:st="on">Canada</country></place>, what’s the harm?</i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> In the dead of night his anti-inflammatory pain-killers wore off and he couldn’t sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A buzzer would have summoned the nurse and the problem would have been solved, but his self-sufficient streak had kicked in and he manoeuvred himself into the bedside wheelchair and down the hall to the nurses’ station, knowing full well that they would chastise him for his effort once he got there.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> When he turned the corner of the hall, the night-nurse looked up and saw him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From her look he was definitely in trouble.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stood and marched towards him.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> “You only impress yourself.” She scolded. “There is no reason for you to be out of your room at this time of night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are here so you can rest, if there’s anything you need-”</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> And then <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it</i> hit her. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From out of a dimmed side corridor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It</i> was a man, but in horrible condition and crazed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She defended herself for perhaps fifteen seconds before she was either unconscious or dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the fury the thing had attacked her, he assumed dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Blood was everywhere.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> His first instinct had been to help her, and he tried momentarily before a raking gnash at his forearm made it clear that he was himself helpless and he backed the wheelchair up as fast as he could while the thing continued to claw at the nurse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon there was little question as to whether she was dead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the thing’s attention was still on her he rolled his chair into a bathroom, into the handicapped stall and threw the bolt… hoping that would be enough.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Before long there was more crashing violence outside and shouting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soon it disappeared and all was quiet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He waited until he heard calm voices before he came back out.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> That had been two days ago.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> At first he had scoffed at the suggestion that his cut might mean anything, but he had been put under surveillance with a number of other people – staff and patients – who’d received collateral injuries from the rampage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They explained what they knew about the affliction and laid out the known symptoms.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> The first time he noticed he was hungry he didn’t even consider the possibility that it could be indicative of something more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He ate when the meal cart came around and then closed the shades, wrapped himself up in a sheet and tried to catch up on some sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the hunger didn’t go away, and the sheet was too much… and for the first time he thought there was a possibility that he was royally fucked.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> Now that he exhibited a spectrum of symptoms that previous carriers of </span><span style="font-family: Verdana; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Cannibalistic Porphyria had shown, the</span><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> quarantine had tightened even further.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He could not interact with anyone, even other quarantined patients.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was confined to a room and the only people he interacted with wore hazmat suits, and worst of all, he was strapped down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He didn’t need to be strapped down.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was perfectly sane and in control. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But of course no one accepted that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> He didn’t want to be here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shouldn’t be here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shouldn’t have stayed an extra night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He never should have tried to get on that roof three years ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He just wanted out.</span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Early morning, a few hours before dawn by his guess, the door to his sanitized prison cycled and opened.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The silhouetted figure in the doorway wore no sterile protection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No hazmat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not even a filter mask.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A woman, wearing men’s clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Vaguely Annie Hall-like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She stepped in close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She smelled… off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He looked up at her gaunt face.</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She smiled and twisted open the clasp on his arm restraint, and in a heavily accented whisper that seemed half hiss breathed a single word…</span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: large; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">“Free….”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2012/02/book-first-part-two-chapter-18.html">Installment ii</a></span></div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-3495013927715003702012-01-15T19:17:00.000-08:002012-01-19T23:14:55.814-08:00AUTHOR'S NOTE: Writer's BlockEarlier today this comment appeared from Andy: "Just wondering how you're doing with this. I'm looking forward to more of this."<br />
<br />
I received an email notification about it, I quickly broke from my reverie to read it. The irony of the moment was that at that very moment I was in deep thought about a narrative issue I am struggling with.<br />
<br />
No secret I've been slowed down considerably of late, but the current gap is even more than I could have imagined. I had taken some time to work out some long-arc details that I needed to be considering in the current portion of the narrative, but that led to a troublesome place... I realized I had an immediate issue that needed to be solved. Very immediate - like in the very next segment I have to write.<br />
<br />
This is an issue as I am publishing linearly. Normally when I'm writing a screenplay or something where I know I'm going to be coming back for a re-draft before any serious audience other than me reads it, I'll just put in some kind of place-holder. As simple as "major complication occurs here" to as fleshed out as "Ray and Ernie find each other in the middle of the chaos and have an emotional confrontation about their trust issues, once resolved they are confronted by Pale who they nearly overcome, but he marches them at gunpoint back to the main room for the climax..." That kind of temporary shortcut is of no use to me here, so I have to work out the kinks... even if I do have to come back and fix stuff later, it at least has to feel like it's complete when posted.<br />
<br />
But right now, I am stuck. Holy smoke am I stuck. It is simply one detail, but it's pretty indispensible. I have slowly worked out all the surrounding details, so once I figure out this last piece I'll be ready to go. Meantime - just earlier this week - it dawned on me that I could be writing subsequent chapters that don't hinge on what is about to happen next.<br />
<br />
The good news is that in all this pondering I have found new elements to enrich the narrative when I have the opportunity to include them.<br />
<br />
Anyhow... I can't imagine it'll be much longer, but I can't really put a date on when this writer's block with break.<br />
<br />
<strong>NOTE: </strong> <em>I am adding this note four days later (January 19th). It is not a substantial change to the above, merely an update. Not worth a separate post.</em><br />
<em>The piece fell into place. I figured out what I needed to put together in order to move forward. Frankly, I didn't expect it to come to me quite as soon as it did. I could tell I was close, but I didn't think it was </em>that<em> close.</em><br />
<em>In the process something else happened. In pondering I came up with a slightly altered timeline that I think is ultimately going to be more dramatically interesting without changing much of anything except order. So now I am writing a completely different set of events (which I would have written eventually anyways) instead of what I was hung up on.</em><br />
<em>I've written the first of two sections. I imagine I'll finish the second on the weekend. I'm not going to post the first until the second is done, they are too inter-connected to risk posting before I am certain of how they relate to one another.</em><br />
<em>Once they are complete, then I will be on (finally) to the plot point that I was stuck on since before Christmas.</em>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-80334576539242953292011-11-17T22:06:00.000-08:002012-09-05T23:43:10.729-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 17 - Installment: i<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>For as long as they had been friends – from before the formal creation of the Lazarus – Henri had always had a greater weakness for sleep than Marcel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It no longer surprised him that he couldn’t keep up with his friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had reached an age where getting sleep was a natural issue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He couldn’t make it through the night without needing to use the bathroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he wore out more easily now, and they had always burned the candle at both ends.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would cat-nap when he could, but polyphasic sleep had never been a skill he had truly mastered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>It had been a long day and a half since the capture of Nikolai, and the organization had been monitoring the situation at the hospital all day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They had always been busy – always – but this was a truly unusual level of immediate concerns.</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>He had only just settled in for a few hours of desperately needed rest when he had received the call about that fool new recruit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yet another issue that couldn’t be left un-attended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Simon had returned to the training complex in the early morning with a young woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He had brought her through security as if there was no reason to have security.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If this were a job, Simon would have been unceremoniously fired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that wasn’t an option.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It simply wasn’t the way things worked or even could work for the Lazarus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A certain level of trust was a necessity, in theory made stronger by recruiting only people who had no remaining ties and whose drive for the cause would be considerable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But there was no antidote for stupid.</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>Henri gave Simon a verbal dressing down in two languages, only one of which Simon spoke, but the fury that launched Henri into French did more than the words themselves could achieve.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A hale adult in his prime, girded by the transformation wouldn’t normally feel threatened by a frail old man like Henri, but his anger combined with the certain knowledge that he was only saying what Marcel, or Sylvette, or the massed collective of the Lazarus would have expressed was quite intimidating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was behaving like a rogue agent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That could not be tolerated in their circumstances, it was simply too risky with such a wealth of secrecy behind them. Though he didn’t out right say so, Henri made sure that Simon would feel as though he would not be given a second chance, and that should he step outside the operational boundaries of the Lazarus again that the consequence would be dire.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The more complicated discussion would follow; the one with the girl.</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>“I hope you will forgive us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We don’t mean to be inhospitable locking you in like this.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>Sarah had only checked the doors to the lounge out of curiosity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had not even been surprised that she was effectively a prisoner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The room itself was comfortable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had tried to watch some television – catch up on the news of what was going on downtown, keep her mind off her past two nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mostly it was re-caps of what had happened so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Families were getting angry and concerned about their loved ones quarantined inside the hospital, and had set up vigils outside the cordoned-off perimeter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing dramatic enough to keep her exhausted body awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The couch was soft and warm and seemed to nearly devour her slim form whole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was content to slip into a deep rest for as long as she might be allowed.</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>She couldn’t tell how long she had been asleep – a few hours at most – when the knob turned and the elderly man stepped in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She couldn’t help herself from wondering if he might be a wizard or something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hell, there are vampires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why not wizards?</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he didn’t dress the way she would have expected an urban wizard to dress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He would have fit in better on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The West Wing</i> in his suit than on <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Dresden Files</i> or <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Buffy.</i></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>“We are...” Sarah guessed from his accent that he was pausing to find the right words in English. “...very busy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Or maybe not.</i> “Your appearance here tonight is an extra complication which we are somewhat under-manned for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Do not feel as though there is any threat.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By which Sarah took to mean that there was indeed some kind of threat.</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>“My name is Henri.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>“Are you in charge of the Lazarus Group?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She could tell from the look on his face that he was not prepared for her to know their name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had shown a card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That may not have been a good move.</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>“I am trusted to make decisions on behalf of those few above me in the organization.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And now we must decide what to do with you.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">Definitely a sense of threat.</span></i><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>“Well, let me try to help, ‘cause I am running out of options.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your man outside confirmed what I suspected, so I’m confident you aren’t going to think, or feign that you think, I am nuts.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>“Last night a vampire killed my father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New'; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-fareast-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-fareast-language: EN-US;">The night before, the same vampire killed my boy-friend.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The night before that, I thought vampires were nothing but either myths or larpers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This particular blood-sucker may be after me personally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Either that or it’s a huge coincidence that she got both my boyfriend – and a half dozen of his friends, I might add – and my father.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may seem like I’m not as scared as I ought to be, but I’ve been staring death in the face for as long as I’ve been alive, so really I’m mostly adjusting to the fact that there are vampires and that one just fucking killed the only two men in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t know what to do or who to turn to, and I haven’t really got much else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t even really know what you people do – for all I know you are allied with the vampires – but I have little left to lose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is kind of my hail-Mary pass... if that’s appropriate.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">So much for keeping cards hidden, that was just about all she had.</span></i><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"></span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>Henri sucked his teeth in contemplation.</span></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span>“This is a very unique week.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He sat in a well-padded arm-chair opposite Sarah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“The Lazarus is made up of individuals who have nothing left to lose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People who have come to that point to a large part because of vampires.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We make a habit of finding them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No one has ever found us before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is very interesting, but it is also gravely concerning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t tell you how we will proceed – this is too unique a situation for me to determine without consulting our leader.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor can I promise that it will be fast or that it won’t be unpleasant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if what you say is true and you are so clever that you found us of your own devices, then you are absolutely in the right place.</span></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-CA" style="font-family: Verdana; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2012/01/book-first-part-two-chapter-18.html">Chapter 18<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"></i></a></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"></span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-65705923382508346552011-11-17T20:32:00.001-08:002011-11-17T21:55:40.327-08:00AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is harder than it looks I was doing so well!<br />
I can't promise that I'm going to do much better than I am now for a while, but rest assured, this is <em>not</em> over.<br />
<br />
Perhaps I should loan this a bit more context...<br />
So, blah, blah, still learning how to be an effective part-time stay at home Dad... but I do think that in the past few weeks I've truly started to find my feet, so to speak. Still amazed at the sheer amount of time my regular pay-cheque job is sucking out of my life between hours worked and commuting time. Oh my god, the commuting time! But I've managed to unload one shift at the regularish job and replaced it with a one-day-a-week video-editing contract which begins to bleed some flexibility, sanity and breathing space into my schedule. (And as I can do it from home, the commute is about 18 paces.)<br />
So there is hope. I <em>am</em> gettting writing done slowly but surely. I've actually had a chapter finished for over a week now (will be posting it after this note), it has simply been difficult to find a time to get around to posting it. My various other creative projects (most of which align more directly with what I consider to be my vocation) all get priority when I have windows of time to work. The number of opportunities I have to dedicate to <em>Necropolis</em> has severely diminished. <br />
But last week Jodie kicked me in the pants... figuratively. With all the hammering my schedule has taken in the past six months or so, the one thing I've made a point of not allowing to slip is my time for her and I. For the most part that has meant that we spent some time virtually every evening watching the shows we love the most. Really, that's just a few TV shows. <em>Dexter, </em>and <em>Being Erica*</em> are the perennial favourites, with <em>Big Bang Theory </em>and <em>How I Met Your Mother</em> bering close seconds. We've given up on nearly everything we've started watching new this season. <em>Up All Night</em> (which could not possibly be aimed more directly at us as a demographic) and <em>Pan-Am</em> are both hanging on by their ragged nails to our viewing schedule. ....I am getting WAY off topic.<br />
Anyhow... Jodie said last week that really we should be able to do all our TV watching in two nights, still have one night a week for movie night, one night for whatever comes up - including, god forbid, going out and having a life - and then I could use a few hours three nights a week for working on my myriad projects.<br />
And that is where I am at now. This is my third night for working on projects. I used the first two for reviewing footage for a documentary I am working on (more details on that when it becomes relevant) and tonight I am first doing <em>Necropolis </em>catch-up, then getting my bearings on at least one of the screenplays I've got mouldering in my brain.<br />
<br />
My intention is that I'll still be able to give at least half of one night a week to <em>Necropolis, </em>maybe more. Which should mean that I can get a few posts a month out. That is nowhere near the pace I need to keep up if I am ever going to finish this tale before I'm collecting my pension (I am exaggerating,) but at least I'll be moving forward.... and maybe I can actually find a way to make better time than that.<br />
<br />
Only time will tell.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*For non-Canadians, I highly recommend that you go out of your way to see this show. It is frikking awesome. Yeah it kind of sounds a little girly and it took a bit of work to get me to try it on for size, but it only took one episode once I tried it. I'm not going to spoil it at all. Just see it. The show is really easy to see in Canada as it's a CBC created show, but it has done really well in other markets, so it ought not be that hard to track down. There are both British and American versions in the making (which, frankly is a bit insulting), but you ought to be able to find the real deal easy enough, and it<em> is </em>in the same language for both Brits and Yanks. Oh and... the lead is played by a girl I went to theatre school with... though I was in fourth year when she was in first year and I admit I don't actually remember her from then - but she is fantastic.</span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-91611285918524669542011-09-21T20:44:00.000-07:002012-09-05T23:41:56.446-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 16 - Installment: i<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> The next thought Bev had was the startled sensation that someone was in her home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Laying in bed, eyes suddenly wide open, getting her bearings, clawing out of the fog of sleep she recognized the sound of the TV coming from the main room and she relaxed as she recalled her illegal guests. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">They were <i>illegal</i> – something she would have to deal with sooner or later. And with that thought she wasn’t so relaxed again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Edmond was sitting up on the couch again. Slouching, really. Eyes sunken, lids heavy. Carly sat beside him, watching Scooby-Doo un-mask an apparent ghoul that looked more lively than Edmond.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I don’t really know what to say.” Edmond mumbled.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Don’t apologize.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I don’t think I was.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I totally forgot about that bottle when I said you could stay here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Thank you.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “That hardly seems appropriate.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “For taking care of me last night. Generally and specifically.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Well I’m sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I swear. I’m never going to drink again.” He managed a wry smile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Shhhh!” Carly hushed them. The cartoon was approaching its climax.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Edmond and Bev shared a smile. They both knew that as much as he had best intentions, his pattern was not promising. He might be capable of quashing the urge for a long time, but the urge always seemed stronger than he was.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Beverly crossed into the kitchen and dug out the coffee. Scott was going to need it. For his part, he watched the last few minutes of Carly’s TV show and then cleared his throat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Look, we should get out of your way. I’ve been thinking. We’re just going to get you in trouble. There’s no reason that the shit I’ve got myself in should be your problem too. No one even need know we were here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Yeah, about that...”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“If I can keep moving for another day or so, the idea of quarantining us – Carly in particular – will be ridiculous. I suspect I’ll be looking at a different small room for a little while at the very least.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “You can’t go out in your condition. You look like hell. Christ, you’ve got newsprint smeared all over your face.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “And I’m betting my face is smeared all over news-print.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “That too. But right now you look like the world’s worst hangover. Any authorities see you like this they aren’t going to think you’re healthy. I’m not saying you can stay long, but you owe me an on-the-record discussion, and you need liquids – internally and externally administered – and probably a nap after you’re totally sobered up. You aren’t in any danger of being found here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> She made coffee and ran out around the corner to get some bacon and eggs. The entire time she was structuring questions in her head – the whole gamut; how long were Edmond and Shale partners?; how did he and Carly escape from the hospital, presumably unscathed?; where did they go to escape the authorities, before her?; what, if anything, more did he know about Tanya Meyers? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It wasn’t until she got back to her house that she thought about her necessary return to the hospital – to the story as the world saw it. Somehow, having one of the key aspects of the event right in her living room made her forget that she was one step ahead of the story on TV and that until she could bring it to light safely, she still had to have the appearance of being wrapped up in the breaking news.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was the breaking news on her TV as she walked in her door that brought her back to the present.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Human rights activists are taking up the case of the quarantined staff and patients in the hospital.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> The report cut directly to a sound bite from a tall albino. “None of these people have exhibited any symptoms. The police officer who went on the rampage went mad after hours. These people’s liberty is being denied due to the paranoia of the scientific establishment.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Edmond muttered, “Tanya Meyers took a week from when she last saw her husband. He took at least that long too. The scientific establishment has damned good reason to be paranoid, Henry.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Henry Visserman’s always good for a quote. Even when he isn’t pithy he’s interesting to watch. He’s so freaky looking. He is good TV.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I’m betting City Hall wishes you’d use him less. We sure do in the department.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Captain Anderson isn’t afraid to let us know. So hey, I’ve got to call the news director and make like everything is normal – so if I can entreat you two to keep it quiet for a few minutes so I can do some effective lying...”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “You can stay as long as you need,” she shouted from her bedroom. “I’ll be back in about 12 hours or so, things have settled a bit at the hospital and they’ll have the news team into a groove by now. So unless things get really crazy I’ll be on rotation from here out.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Edmond stepped into her door way. A fleece blanket wrapped around him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Thanks again.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “You cold?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I’m fine. Really. Except for the... sorry about that.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “It was stupid of me. But that’s one more way here is safe. You won’t find any more. I’ve got to go. Eat whatever you like. Be prepared when I get back, neither of us is sleeping until we’ve gone at it.” An awkward pause. “I swear that wasn’t Freudian.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I understood what you meant.”</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2011/11/book-first-part-two-chapter-17.html">Chapter 17<o:p></o:p></a></span></span></div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-32349884186056378682011-09-15T18:51:00.000-07:002011-09-15T18:51:51.878-07:00AUTHOR'S NOTE: Catching up in many waysI WAS SO FAR AHEAD!<br />
<br />
So very very far ahead. But since early spring I have been doing virtually nothing but losing ground. Sometimes I'd stem the flow a bit, but more often than not since April I've been letting entire weeks go by without adding anything to the buffer of written material I had. Bah.<br />
<br />
I kind of knew that once I got to this date that I would have the opportunity to get back on the horse, so to speak. Well, here I am.<br />
<br />
My film has finished up most of it's intense business - I mentioned in other posts that we had broadcast, DVD and Theatrical deals to do a bunch of work on. We have agreed to more theatrical dates in October and will be doing the international DVDs soon, but all of that is relatively small-beans and is built upon work done previously. Meanwhile my daughter has turned one year old and her Mum is finished with maternity leave which leaves me as Mr. Mom three days a week and working at my day job considerably less.<br />
<br />
I am hoping that this will allow me to get more done. Tonight for example, after dinner I figured Jodie would like to take an hour or so to play with December one on one. That works well for me to take some time here to get some writing done.<br />
<br />
I have no buffer left. I ran out this week. I had managed in the past few weeks to add a couple of installments which just barely got me to this date... but kind of not - I should have posted one more installment earlier this week in order to keep on schedule. I actually did have something ready, but I wasn't happy with it. I figured it was better to take another run at it than post something I wasn't satisfied with.<br />
<br />
So, I'm going to go update some internal links and fix up that installment now. I may even get to posting it tonight. Failing that it'll probably be a few days.<br />
<br />
It'll take a few weeks I expect before I can begin to predict how my new writing schedule will really be. How often I can post, or if I'll actually make enough headway that I'll get ahead again and be able to post on a pre-determined schedule. I'll check in with another note once the picture starts to coalesce.Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-36902813762112885962011-09-06T10:59:00.000-07:002012-09-05T23:40:36.207-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 15 - Installment: ii<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>Simon cursed his ill-reasoned choice to exercise his independence. He could have taken one of the Lazarus’ fleet of vehicles when he left for the evening, but instead he had chosen to not be in anyway beholden to the organization’s resources. He had bussed into the city from the farm. That had not been a big inconvenience in the light of day, but after midnight he was limited to night busses with considerably reduced schedules and reach. It had been necessary to transfer twice already and even so, the last bus would still leave him with a significant walk to the farm.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>He didn’t bother wondering how much faster he could have made the trip had been able to use hyper-time. That had already been dispelled for him in training.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>“Hyper-time will work for sprints, but not any extended distance. You can’t access it long enough. You could cover several blocks perhaps,” instructed Sylvette. “I can make it roughly a dozen. It’s been a long time since I’ve bothered. Hyper-time is best used for ending things quickly. If you want to get somewhere fast, use a car and hope the traffic isn’t too bad.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>The bell to signal for a stop rang. Someone else had rung it. Simon snapped out of his deep thought and looked up to see a young woman rising out of her seat, crumpling an empty potato chip bag. It was his stop too – as close as the bus would get to the farm. He would have a bit of a walk first. Perhaps a short enough walk that he could effectively cover it in hyper-time, but he had been strictly counselled to not waste hyper-time on trivia, you never knew when you were going to need it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>He stepped down off the bus behind the woman. She had already set off at a determined pace in the same direction he was going. If his night vision hadn’t been improved by the transformation she would already hardly be visible in the dark.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>The first driveway passed and she walked on ahead of him. There weren’t many options out here. She couldn’t be going much further than where he would turn, or she would have got off at a later stop.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>A second driveway disappeared behind them. The woman glanced over her shoulder at Simon. She too was aware of their coincidental proximity. Simon realised that he was effectively following her and slackened his pace. He didn’t want to seem to be in any way threatening.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>When she turned up the same side road he had to turn up in order to get to the Lazarus’ training complex, his intention to avoid creeping her out fell apart. As he himself arrived at the foot of the road he stopped and watched as she walked on ahead of him. As he watched in consternation the woman turned and looked back – probably to see if he was still following her. She did not get the answer she was looking for. She turned and kept walking, the up-tick in her pace perceptible to Simon from the distance between them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span><em>Shit. Now what?</em></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>His answer turned out to be that he would wait. His night vision was keener than a normal human, so he waited until she had disappeared into the night by the measure of his ability to see, then he followed after her, content that he could not be perceived to be following her any longer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>Thirty minutes later he was approaching the disguised entrance to the training complex – an actual equipment barn with a concealed inner door – when from behind a rusty pick-up truck sprung a voice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>“You don’t look like much of a farmer.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Simon barked out a startled cry.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>“And I’d say that settles it; you aren’t following me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>A thin young woman, stepped out from behind the truck. It was the woman who had got off the bus. She stood in the damp grass shivering. For the first time Simon noti</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ced that she had no shoes. She stood in her stocking feet.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>“You’re one of them, aren’t you? I think you call yourselves ‘Lazarus’?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%;">
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>Swallowing deeply, Simon couldn’t begin to figure out how to respond.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"> </span>“I don’t know who is in charge of hiding your tracks on the internet, but it seems you could use some help. Perhaps we could make an exchange. There is a vampire after me.”</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2011/09/book-first-part-two-chapter-16.html">Chapter 16</a></span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-3090565890716965162011-08-30T12:31:00.000-07:002011-09-15T19:06:27.040-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 15 - Installment: i<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"> Fifteen dollars and fifty</span><span style="background-color: #444444;"> </span><span style="background-color: #444444;">one cents. Sarah had expected there would be more. The donation box had one ten dollar bill, two two-dollar coins, one loonie, five dimes and a penny</span><span style="background-color: #444444;">.</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> What kind of cheap bastard ditches a penny in a collection box? There’s a fine line between ‘every penny counts’ and insult. Of course who am I to judge?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></i></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> There had been three cheques as well. Two for five and ten dollars respectively, the third for fifty. But she had no way of cashing them. Certainly no legal way, not that she’d acquired them legally.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Eleven dollars had bought a cheap single gig USB drive at a convenience store. Two dollars paid for an hour of time on their back-room computer. The rest had paid for the ubiquitous soft drink and bag of chips special. She pocketed the chips for later and sipped at the rootbeer while she worked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"> S</span><span style="background-color: #444444;">he used the internet connection to connect to the University server and download from her account some code she had been working on. She ran the program from the USB stick and really got busy.</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"> The program was the current version of something she’d been tinkering with for a directed studies course she was taking. She had already staked out territory, intellectually speaking, at school as the girl who knew more than anyone about searching the internet. Clearly it was her specialty, and her advisor was already talking about the potential for the digital gizmo in question to be the cornerstone of her graduate studies. That was still two years away</span><span style="background-color: #444444;">.</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Complex search strings were a game for her. A puzzle. How could she craft a query to ferret out precisely what she was looking for with as little search noise as possible? Of course there was also interesting information to be discovered in the noise. Sarah’s understanding of searches had developed to the point where she could glean nearly as much useful information from the background data in some cases as from the most relevant hits. <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> The program bordered upon breaking privacy laws. It accessed her standing accounts with over two dozen general and specialized search engines and compared the data on who – or at least what IP addresses – were searching for what and looked for patterns.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> First she honed a search for vampires, eliminating as much obvious fiction as possible. Of course to the world at large everything to do with vampires was fiction – and that was the catch. What she had to find were people who, like her, knew vampires were real. Making this even more complicated were the large number of deluded and fantasy prone people – like far too many of Ruthven’s peers – who couldn’t tell the difference between their imaginary vampires and the real world. Developing segments to filter out those hits could only be marginally successful in the time she had.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Sarah had no idea what to do with the vast number of recent news items about the “Vampire Virus Outbreak” at VGH, fortunately it was easy to filter out with a simple time-based function, so she could run comparisons both with and without. It was a good thing she did.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"> T</span><span style="background-color: #444444;">here was a natural spike in relevant worldwide results over the past forty-eight hours. The local results were understandably above the mean due to the outbreak being Vancouver based news. Focussing even closer on those results revealed a minor spike from one related set of IPs. Some pedestrian investigation revealed that the results came from the downtown head office of the Lancaster Corporation. Someone in the Lancaster building was following the outbreak developments very closely. This in itself was not remarkable. It became more interesting when she compared the historical results. This is where the time she had spent crafting her program paid off. The automated comparison search she had built into the code ferreted out a result that wouldn’t have seemed too remarkable if it were not for the outstanding recent spike from the Lancaster Corporation. She would not have given much more than curious notice to the number of searches that were attributed to companies across the lower mainland – barely statistically significant – that were owned under the umbrella of Lancaster Holdings.</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"> Bingo</span><span style="background-color: #444444;">.</span></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2074944187"><br /></a></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="color: white; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.com/2011/09/book-first-part-two-chapter-15.html" style="background-color: #444444;">Installment ii</a></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><br /></span></span></i></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>I</i></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-45947328420682585542011-08-24T12:30:00.000-07:002011-09-15T19:02:27.114-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 14 - Installment: i<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span></span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The decision had been made.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “You’ve never done anything like this before.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “We’ve never had an opportunity like this before.” Marcel answered Lancaster. “You have no argument.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “I don’t make it my business to dictate your choices. I merely fund the organization and make suggestions as they occur to me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Very well. I’ll release the Nosferatu once we hang up.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “What do you intend to do with him?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Do? I don’t think we should pretend we can control him. I expect he will set his own agenda.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Indeed. But we should have plans of our own. How and when do we reconnect with him?<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “He is a public figure. Sylvette has been to his apartment. Contacting him is not an issue. Our priority has been making a decision so as to get him back into the world before his absence is conspicuous. He went to rather extraordinary lengths to bring us to him. I anticipate he has spent a long time considering how he will benefit us. Once we’ve extended an olive branch he’ll provide us options. We will have the relative luxury of an extended duration to consider our options. Right now, we have to act in order to preserve the opportunity.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Very well.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Do you wish to be here? Would you like to meet him?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Let’s not. Best to keep some cards close to our chest. I too am a public figure. Better he not know that, should this turn into some imbroglio.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “As you wish.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Though...”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “This is separate, but relates. It would render my connection moot.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “What are you thinking?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “I want you to consider the possibility of going public.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Seriously?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Absolutely. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, and this hospital outbreak only strengthens my line of thinking.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “We don’t believe the outbreak has any connection to our concerns.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Nonetheless, if we were public our perspective could influence the proceedings and should it prove that it is related... do you not think that being involved could be critical?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “How am I supposed to argue against that?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Think about it. I am planning to run for election. ”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Upcoming?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Yes. For Mayor. Anchoring my candidacy on an announcement of this magnitude would be a political coup of enormous proportion.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Very. Manipulatively so.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “If you are surprised by my ambition, Marcel, I am surprised by your observational failure.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Not surprised by your ambition. It just strikes me as a cynical way of achieving it.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “I’ve been planning this for some time. It hadn’t intersected with your interest ‘til now, so I haven’t mentioned it. This opportunity is just good timing. It would be ridiculous not to capitalize on it.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Marcel drew a long breath as he considered his patron’s expression – a visage of solid commitment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “I cannot make such a choice without grave consideration.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: red; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: #444444;"> </span><span style="background-color: #444444;">“I wouldn’t expect otherwise.”</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The difference in air pressure equalized with a hiss as the cell door opened. The metal rods that prevented the door from opening more than a crack had been removed and the old vault opened wide.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The nosferatu stood facing the door as if he had been waiting with eternal patience for the door to open. He certainly would have had the required patience, but it could be just as simple for him to have leapt into position as soon as the door began to cycle.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Marcel found that through the roil of his loathing he had nothing to say. The conflict he felt between his compulsion to destroy the vampire and the strategic logic of keeping it alive bound his tongue.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Nikolai cocked his head curiously as if inviting, if not challenging the leader of the Lazarus to engage him. But there was no response forthcoming. He almost shrugged, then with an amused twitch of his mouth that approximated a sly fragment of a smile he stepped out of the cell and stepped around Marcel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The Lazarus’ commander raised his hand, and placed it forcefully on the vampire’s chest.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Nikolai looked coolly at the hand, then up to Marcel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “The human touch is so unique. Are you a dualist? Do you see the vampire’s absence of soul as being at the core of our curse? I don’t see how that can be. If we require mind and soul to operate, then how is it I am still here?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Do not be distracted from our deal, vampire.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Hmmm... and what of morality? Good. Evil. Am I inherently evil if I have no soul? Or am I simply in an irresolvable position? You cannot tell me that men with souls commit no evil. How can I not be capable of good? Ah, but that is your gamble, isn’t it? You look into yourself. You measure your capacity for good and evil and you see there is hope for me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “Don’t waste your time getting around to paying dividends on our trust. My patience will be short.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> Nikolai looked back at Marcel’s hand and shrugged it away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “I have no doubt.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> As he reached the door that led into the night the vampire turned back to Marcel.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> “The Trinity is meeting... here. I trust you understand the implication.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #444444;"><span style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2074944183"><br /></a></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: #444444; color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.com/2011/08/book-first-part-two-chapter-15.html">Chapter 15</a></span></div>
Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-8185734238157779912011-08-18T12:29:00.000-07:002011-09-15T19:05:15.616-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 13 - Installment: i<span style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Simon’s first foray into the world had been cut short by the call to action from Lazarus dispatch. Sylvette had decided upon a random impromptu mission which had served as his first field experience and had resulted in the capture of a vampire.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Truth be told, Simon had been rather relieved. His first taste of the world at large with his new senses had been a bit overwhelming. Not frightening. He had no resistance to getting back on the horse the next evening and heading back into society. But his first taste, that previous evening had overwhelmed him quickly.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">This time was already different. He wanted to get out in the world, but he also needed to cool his jets. Perhaps he was being unreasonable, but being left out of the loop of the Lazarus’ plans for the vampire, Nikolai, rubbed him wrong.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was right there when it happened. It’s a lousy secret. Obviously I’m a part of the team, they wouldn’t give just anyone this kind of power.</span></i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It had not taken him long to find a willing partner, he could practically smell her interest. Was that an unfair advantage? Certainly not. She wanted him, that was obvious. He was merely obliging her desire.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The sex was a curious mixed bag. On one hand the sensation was in a completely different world from his former life. Not his earliest, uber-excited romps of his late teens, not even the intimate and precisely tailored loving of his marriage at its best could compare to the aurora of sensation he felt now. His own performance, he knew, was Olympic in the least. The vitality he brought to the table would leave his young partner spoiled, and that in its own right was perversely exciting to him. Yet, there remained a reciprocal void. He couldn’t blame her for her perfectly natural human inability to match him. She certainly wasn’t Sylvette.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Oh my god! Good thing we started early. We have got to do that again.” She confirmed everything he already knew. “It’s like you knew exactly where and how to touch me.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It wasn’t in fact that way, but it had been close. His ability to sense whether what he was doing was working and how well gave him the right answers practically as quickly as she knew it herself. It was as though he was playing “hotter/colder” with her nervous system. He figured he wasn’t even that good at it yet.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It had been fun. But it was lacking. As he would leave her forever wanting to return to that experience, he too had been left with a new notion of how high the bar could be set and she was not matching up. He would have to try again.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Hey wait. We aren’t finished.”</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He snorted derisively.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Yeah, Lady. We are.”</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.com/2011/08/book-first-part-two-chapter-14.html">Chapter 14</a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"></span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-90684549491486918202011-08-13T10:16:00.000-07:002011-08-13T10:43:27.591-07:00NEWS: The Beast of Bottomless Lake<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I previously mentioned that I have been very busy over the past few months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mostly I’ve been occupied by finishing the DVDs of the feature film I co-produced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>...oh yeah... did I mention that?</span> <br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I probably did, but let’s assume this is the first you’ve heard of it.</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://www.provostpictures.com/">So yeah, I made a movie.</a><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m multi-talented.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And not just some kind of student/practice/vanity/hack film, which for so many people seems to be the assumption.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard people say “oh wow, that was a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">real</i> movie” or similar sentiment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yep this is an honest-to-god professionally produced feature film.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not all my creative endeavours are DIY endeavours like <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Necropolis.</i></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://www.vancourier.com/entertainment/movie-guide/Filmmakers+honour+late+friend+with+monster+movie/3561598/story.html"><em>The Beast of Bottomless Lake</em> if I do say so myself, surpasses the constraints of its budget</a>. We sold the film to <a href="http://www.superchannel.ca/movies/view/46204342/The-Beast-of-Bottomless-Lake">SuperChannel</a> and is available on <a href="http://www.provostpictures.com/TheBeast-DVD.htm">DVD worldwide by order from our website</a>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finalizing those deals was an enormous undertaking and it impinged anywhere from profoundly to completely upon my writing (depending on which week you put under the microscope) – which is to say nothing about the ongoing climb up the learning curve of being a new parent, or the distraction of the Vancouver Canucks’ ascent to the Stanley Cup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In any case it took a lot of attention away from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Necropolis</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fortunately a lot was “in the can” while I lost more and more ground.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But recently I’ve been gradually easing back into it, so all is good.</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">But I am here to plug the film.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Don’t let the name fool you. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Beast of Bottomless Lake</i> is not a horror film. It’s not even much of a creature-feature (though it wouldn’t be inappropriate to classify it as such). It is, in fact, a comedy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you go and look for bad reviews on line (and I freely admit they exist – though they are well outweighed by positive reviews – and many of those are characterized by a similar pleasant surprise to those who have declared it a “real movie”) you will find that they are fairly consistently posted by people who state that they are disgruntled by the fact that the film is <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">not</i> a horror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">mea culpa, </i>the name is a bit misleading.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But that was never intentional. I am even going out of my way to steer you clear of that notion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Beast of Bottomless Lake</i> is emphatically NOT a horror.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is a comedy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You should be<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>laughing at the antics of the characters and their circumstances, not at the quality (or lack thereof) the make-up and effects. Comedy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you are a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stargate</i> fan, our lead actor is <a href="http://www.provostpictures.com/articles/culttimes.htm">David Nykl – Dr. Zelenka from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Stargate:Atlantis</i></a> – and several other faces from the franchise make appearances in <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Beast...</i></span><br />
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">The DVD is full of extras – a bunch of deleted scenes; two commentaries (one with the director, Craig March, and myself<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and a second with David Nykl hosting our science advisor Stan Orchard and the editor of <a href="http://www.skeptic.com/junior_skeptic/meet_the_creators.html"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Jr. Skeptic Magazine</i>, Daniel Loxton</a>) there are also three behind the scenes featurettes and a link to additional on-line footage.</span></div><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So by now, the question arises... what are you waiting for?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get on over to our web page and order a copy now.</span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-8955765944867675622011-08-12T12:28:00.000-07:002011-09-15T18:59:04.695-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 12 - Installment: i<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Sarah hadn’t thought that a night could be more terrifying than the previous one had been, but she hadn’t considered the possibility that a night as traumatic could happen again, let alone the very next evening. What was even more horrifying was knowing that with her father dead ensuring her escape, this time she had nowhere to seek refuge. Her home had been infiltrated, and she had hours before daylight would drive the vampire into hiding. She could not feel more vulnerable. Not even stumbling down the street naked last night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Could the vampire track me?</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">It must. How did it find her home?<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She had seen how quickly the awful thing had dispatched Hathandra and her Adjutants, there was no reason to think that her father could last substantially longer. The only thing he had in his favour was a thin awareness of what he was up against.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Sarah had no time to waste.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> She ran down the street shoeless for the second time in as many nights. It was still early, where could she go? There was a church a few blocks away – Our Lady of Something – vampires couldn’t enter churches, she knew she’d be safe there for the moment at least.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> It only took her a few minutes to run up the wet sidewalk to the church, Our Lady of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Eternal Rest</i>. The door was open. No one was in the main room – whatever that was called, but she heard voices coming from downstairs. She followed the sound of quiet murmuring. A room – a circle of chairs, a dozen and a half people sitting in them. Sarah approached the door. A grey haired lady looked up to meet Sarah’s gaze. The woman interrupted the younger man who was speaking.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Excuse me Alistair... Can we help you?” She addressed Sarah.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Had she actually been looking for someone? What would she tell anyone? <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“My father was just attacked by a vampire that tracked me home last night after it turned my boyfriend into one of its own.” </i>No.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “We’re almost done here, dear. If you’ve come for the meeting you really need to be punctual.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Sarah noticed the handwritten sign taped to the doorframe. It read ‘Alcoholics Anonymous.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I’m sorry.” Sarah turned and ran back upstairs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> She approached a pew and sat down. Safe.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> She looked around. Damn. If there was one thing churches sure had given society, it was opulent decor. Garish, even. Which wasn’t to say that it wasn’t beautiful in its own intricately detailed manner.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> And then she broke.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> She had cried herself out by the time the grey haired woman from the AA meeting found her. There wasn’t any hiding it though. Sarah was still dripping from the nose, her eyes were red and her cheeks hot.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Are you okay, dear?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “I’m... I don’t-”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Okay.” The woman sat down in the pew in front of Sarah.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Normally I just lock up and go home after the Sunday meeting. But there’s no rules saying that I have to. I’ll be right here until you’re ready.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Ready for what?” Sarah whispered between her fading sighs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Ready to talk to me - tell me what is wrong.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Oh.” Sarah had been worried she meant ‘ready to leave.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Are you hurt? Has someone hurt you?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “No. I’m not hurt.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> “Have you – are you... are you in trouble?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">She wouldn’t call it ‘trouble’ exactly, even if she could tell a total stranger what had happened in the past two days.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“No. I’m not in trouble.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Forgive me dear. I’m asking if you are pregnant.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Oh! No. Definitely not pregnant.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“My name’s Clara. What’s your name, dear?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“I’m Sarah.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“What is the matter, Sarah? Have you nowhere else to go?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“I don’t.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“I see. I’m sorry, dear but we haven’t a shelter here.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Whatever she did, Sarah couldn’t leave. She had to keep to the holy sanctuary of the church. She would be safe from the demon here.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Those were the rules...<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Please. I can’t go out there.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sarah, don’t be dramatic.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Vampires couldn’t enter churches. They couldn’t see their reflection. They hated garlic, holy water and crosses. They couldn’t enter your home <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">unless invited...<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Oh my god...<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sarah, are you alright? You look ill.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The vampire had broken right into their house. If it could break that rule, what else could it do? There was absolutely no guarantee that she was safe in the church. If she wasn’t safe, if the vampire was tracking her, she was endangering anyone she was with.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">“Sarah dear, where are you going?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I have no idea.</span></i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">As she approached the end of the nave her eyes fell on a wooden box labelled “donations.” She had nothing. She didn’t know what she might need or when. She was desperate and she knew the church was in business of helping the needy.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is just making the decision of how to distribute their money for them.<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Besides, for all anyone knew Sarah was saving Clara’s life by leaving... that ought to be worth something.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">She grabbed the box and ran into the night, kindly Clara’s voice disappearing behind her. <o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.com/2011/08/book-first-part-two-chapter-13.html">Chapter 13</a></span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-56472505327103880782011-08-06T12:26:00.000-07:002011-08-14T16:14:39.994-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 11 - Installment: i<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The day already could not feel longer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;">It had felt like she had only just filed her report on the CDC and laid her head down when the phone rang again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Bev, it’s Alex.” The over-night producer. “I know you haven’t been home long, but I think you’re going to want this one. Something is happening on the CDC ward.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>That had been over fifteen hours ago.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She had barely finished journalism school when the towers fell. She was nothing more than a cog in the media cycle at the time; an intern relegated to research – which pretty much amounted to quote-mining. She watched enviously as anchors held distant public vigil over a crumbling New York, vowing that someday she’d be front and centre on something earth-shattering. She had ambition and worked hard to move herself closer and closer to the centre of the news storm.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Careful what you wish for.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Now here she was, the news-face for a terrifying incident that had captured the attention of the world. She’d known abstractly that it was going to be exhausting. She had expected that the exhilaration of the feeding-frenzy that was high-pressure, moment-to-moment reporting would compensate, and to a degree it did. But she had totally under-estimated the emotional toll that being so close to the centre of societal trauma would take on her. But she wouldn’t trade it for the world. This was what she’d lived her life thus far for.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Then there was that other thing... harbouring a fugitive. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Fugitives.</i> Ones whose fate was inextricably entangled with the outbreak at VGH. It had been rash taking him in, all she’d been thinking about was the story and what a coup getting Scott’s exclusive would be. She hadn’t been thinking clearly. Looking at it now, the story might be a redeeming factor, but helping Scott and the girl – in spite of his assurances of their health – was a crime, and probably not a small one.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She wasn’t sure what she was going to do about it. Give him up, almost certainly. But so long as he was hiding she had some time to pick her moment. As it was, she could probably claim that he’d taken refuge in her house and she knew nothing of it. The first call had been from a pay-phone – no one would ever be able to prove it had come from him. The second call... she’d phoned home to get messages. Explaining how and why he’d gone to her wasn’t really up to her – perhaps she could convince him to keep her out of it if she didn’t give him up outright. He’d have to come out of hiding sooner than later. She just had to maintain plausible deniability.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The trick was that any time now she was going to be sent home whether she liked it or not. The broadcast manager on duty knew damned well she’d been on this story for over a day with a pittance of rest. It didn’t matter that it was ‘her story’, she’d have to turn it over for a half-dozen hours or more so that she could come back and be fresh for the on-going story. This was a viral outbreak, the story wasn’t going to wrap itself up cleanly and be done overnight – from the looks of things she’d still be writing about this one when she retired. No one had ever seen anything like this.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>There was no way the CDC was coming out of this one unscathed. The crazies had already started tweeting about government conspiracies. Military viruses being tested on the public. Government complicity. Big Pharma’s end-game push for dominion over mankind. Bev wasn’t surprised. Reality was brutal and the weak-minded were always looking for some sort of comfort. It was easy to find the illusion of power in actively opposing the imaginary overlords who had humanity in their thrall. She wasn’t surprised to see that she was already implicated. “Bevyrly Williams is a mouthpeace for missinformation.” Announced one commenter on the NewsNet web forum. She couldn’t be bothered to be mad about it. It was inevitable. Besides, how seriously could you take borderline illiteracy? The conspiracy theories weren’t the story.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Seventeen people had been killed in Shale’s rampage before he had left the building. The ERT bungle with Shale and Bishop brought the toll to nineteen. One more nurse who had been under attack by Shale when Bishop caught up to him had since died from her wounds. Four others had lesser injuries, were presumed infected and were under armed surveillance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>No one was allowed into the hospital without bio-hazard protection. Bev hoped that she might get to go in with a crew by the morning. She was first in line amongst the media.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The logistics of how to maintain care for the existing patients while exercising quarantine protocols, diverting incoming emergency care to the other instantly over-taxed hospitals in the region, and cancelling all non-essential internal procedures, surgery and services was just now beginning to come into focus. It had been havoc all day, even without having to deal with the immediate issue of the outbreak.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>CDC officials had not been able to develop a test for the virus in its early stages. At the moment the only way they would know that anyone was infected was if they started exhibiting a spectrum of symptoms. For the more than two thousand patients and staff quarantined this could be nothing but a terrifying extended wait. Reports coming out of the hospital indicated that none of them were happy about this, and at best begrudgingly accepted their circumstance.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And then there were the missing pair. It was accepted that they were in fact on the run. Their bodies had not been found at the hospital as had been feared – or perhaps in some cynical eyes ‘hoped.’ Lieutenant Edmond’s apartment had been searched and his banking records checked. The police were confident that he was at large. Everyone was praying that there wouldn’t be a sudden report of maniacal violence from somewhere in the city while the man-hunt went on. News stories on the absence of such an incident were constantly accompanied by an implicit ‘yet’ which did nothing to allay anyone’s anxiety.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even Bev had to admit quietly to herself that the details were beginning to blur together when Alex came back on shift.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You are still here.” He wasn’t asking.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Of course.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Look, I haven’t had much sleep myself, but I did have twelve hours off.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, I know...” She put up a token tonal effort at defence.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You have to go home.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">To where the story is.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I know.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’m not letting you back on the story if you come back before I’m finished my shift.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“That’s not ’til morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Most people use those hours for sleep. You should give it a try.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She chewed her lip for a moment as if trying to concoct a way around going home. When she looked up, she squeezed what energy she could into a fraction of a resigned smile.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I guess if I’m too tired to come up with a good argument...”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Then you are going home.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I’ll see you soon.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Tomorrow.” Alex firmly called after her as she stepped out of the news-van.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Tomorrow.” She confirmed as she walked into the night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>When she found Scott lying half off the couch beside her empty trophy-bottle of vodka, she could imagine the circumstances that had led up to the scene.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh for Fuck’s sake.” Her words belied the genuine feeling of sympathy she had for him. She hadn’t even thought about the liquid land-mine she had secreted in her kitchen. She hadn’t known how strong Edmond was as alcoholics go. Some, like her, had never touched a drop after she’d sobered up. Some slip to the point where they never really sober up at all. Edmond’s problem was public and as a result almost certainly exaggerated, but she doubted he had the self-control she’d developed. Few did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She bent down and picked up the empty bottle from beside his snoring form. Clearly she wasn’t getting anything out of him tonight. A medicinal waft from the bottle met her nose. A pang. Not for the lost memento. The familiar call of its contents. She knew that she wouldn’t replace it. Couldn’t. Too dangerous. Just look at Scott. Either one of his last two days would rank up amongst anyone’s worst. Herself, she’d seen things she couldn’t explain. Things she could never un-see. She was a mess and she’d been the fortunate one of the pair of them. If she’d come home to that bottle.... No doubt about it. Edmond had saved her from the same fate. Taken one for the team. Fallen on the grenade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Scott...” She shook him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He vocalized incoherently through a gurgled aspiration. He was completely non-functional. She wouldn’t be able to get him back on the couch herself. Half-off as he was he was in danger of rolling onto his back. So she grabbed his belt and pulled him down herself, making sure that he landed face down so that if he should vomit it would....<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>...End up all over the carpet</span></i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";">.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She lifted his head and spread a several day old newspaper under his head.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She looked in on the small girl in the guest room. As she found her own bed she thought back to Edmond and allowed herself a small moment of poor charity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">However you feel in the morning, you’ve got it coming.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> </span><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.com/2011/08/book-first-part-two-chapter-12.html"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Chapter 12</span></a></span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-92005620255514062272011-07-31T12:23:00.000-07:002011-08-14T16:12:26.325-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 10 - Installment: ii<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The man believed the child, or so it appeared to Vala from her perch.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Precisely why he believed her was harder to glean.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Clearly the world had changed. That was not surprising. What was surprising was the degree. The evidence was all around Vala, even if she had not found a newspaper and seen the date. It was fortunate enough that she’d been brought back. The longer one laid in torpor the less chance there was of being revived... but less than seventy years, that was truly remarkable. But not so remarkable as the changes in the world...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> It had seemed to her when she had last been active that automobiles were everywhere. That had been naive. Now they were truly everywhere. So many and so different – almost unrecognizable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> The newspaper she had found was full of colour, the photos were so clear and it had been filled with so many words she did not recognize. English was not her best language, but even the context was hard to follow – how could this be a mere seventy years?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>And how had she made it to North America’s West Coast? It could have been worse. She could have found herself in the isolationist States. At least Canada had the good sense to rely upon the aid of its’ founding countries. America on the other hand would be hard pressed to make something of itself by separating from the other nations of the world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> And the girl... there was a taint to her blood that had repelled Vala. That was something she had never felt before. The girl had seen her, witnessed as Vala had feasted, and she escaped. That could not be allowed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> Vala cursed herself for her recoil. There was no reason that she couldn’t have eliminated the witness, even if she didn’t drink from her. And now the girl had told someone else – her father.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> When the girl had escaped into the night she left behind many personal items. It had not taken long for Vala to sort the girl’s identification cards from those of her deceased compatriots, but navigating this foreign city had been another story entirely. It had taken her almost all night to get her bearings. She’d had almost no opportunity to orient herself in this new modern world as a result.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> As day broke she was forced into the storm sewers which had not been as effective as she was accustomed. While the sewer itself was in better condition than the systems of Europe she remembered, it was small – clearly not expected to be frequented by maintenance workers – and it appeared to be the storm season. Progress was slow as she navigated primarily by educated guess and mostly against the substantial flow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> As night fell she resurfaced and found her way to the window where she now perched.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> The girl told her father she had seen a vampire - that they had been attacked. The girl told her father the story of Vala’s revival and of the slaughter from her petty human viewpoint.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> The father told the girl that the news supported her story. The details didn’t seem right to Vala. He was talking about vampirism like it was a plague. That it had suddenly struck the city – at a hospital downtown. But she could attribute that to her own unfamiliarity with his source. Radio had clearly changed in her time in torpor – it now included pictures and who knew what else – taste, touch and smell for all she knew – that might skew her own interpretation of the circumstances.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"> She couldn’t take the chance. <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I came too close to letting my presence be known already. </i>The girl and her father would have to die. With luck he wouldn’t share the taint of his child and Vala would be able to feast upon him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div align="center" class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;">#<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The window burst inward without warning.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sarah, run.” He said, positioning himself between the skeletal figure and his daughter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Daddy?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sarah, I said ‘run!’” He bellowed as he pulled a parasol from behind her closet door. Not much of a weapon at all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sarah ran.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The last sight she ever had of her father, he stood toe to toe with the demi-human beast that had invaded their home, futilely slashing at it with a flimsy girlish toy of an umbrella.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> </span><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.com/2011/04/book-first-part-two-chapter-11.html"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Chapter 11</span></a>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-38616328997727318292011-07-24T12:22:00.000-07:002011-08-14T16:07:25.436-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 10 - Installment: i<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Even her Father’s respite didn’t last long. For the last hours of day-light Sarah had occupied herself with menial tasks while she turned the events of the previous night over in her head. But there was little to do. Her Father maintained a maid service in the house, so there wasn’t much to be cleaned, and her own room was only barely her room anymore. Most of what remained was the nostalgia of childhood. Most of her day to day belongings that might normally accumulate were in her dorm room at the university. She barely even had clothes to speak of in her closet.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I left so much behind. </i>She thought of her backpack, left at the old house, her wallet in it along with her lap-top and consequently the majority of the work she was expected to hand in once the weekend was over… tomorrow. She expected that under the circumstances - whatever explanation she came up with – she could probably get an extension.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Around seven thirty she heard the door bell ring and her Father answer the door. There was a brief muffled discussion before the door closed again and she heard footsteps on the stair.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Here we go. The police want answers, and I don’t really have any.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Come in.” She responded to the knock on the door, and Father entered…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Carrying a take-out pizza box to her relief.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sun-dried tomato and artichoke. Just how you like it.” He said as he sat down on the bed and opened the box.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thank you Daddy.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;">They ate in silence long enough for him to start his second piece.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked gently.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Not really.” Sarah dodged.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You know you don’t get to avoid this for long.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Was it…” Clearly he found the thought of saying his next words distasteful. “Some sort of… satanic cult?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“No. Not really. But…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Kind of.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sarah… how did this…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“It was supposed to be fun. Just a joke.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“And then…?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Shit. Can’t back out now. Have to make it up from whole cloth.</i> Though she did have a few ideas to fall back on that had come to her over the course of the day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“There was this boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“So there was a boy.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Dad!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sorry. There was a boy. Named…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Kevin - Ruthven.”<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Kevin Ruthven.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Uh… yeah. Kevin.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Is he one of the…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes, he’s dead.” She took a big breath and dove into the deep end of the lie. “I really thought we were just playing around. Trying to scare one another, but then Kevin, he wasn’t really playing around. You see, they were all supposed to be the priests and I was the virgin…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Christ, Sarah.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Do you want to hear this?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Are you okay?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Nothing happened.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sarah.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I mean, like that. We were in the middle of this phony ceremony when Ruthven – Kevin – pulled out a knife. I thought it was just a part of the game, but he started attacking the people. He killed them all Dad, and when I tried to run he came after me. I don’t know what happened – how it happened, but when he came at me, the knife ended up in him. Not me.”</span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sarah’s Father watched her face through the whole confession and as she reached the end she looked back at him, into his eyes as a grave look fell across his face.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Daddy?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Sarah…”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yes?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why are you doing this?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Doing what?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“You never lie to me. Ever. Why are you lying to me now?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He was right. She was lying. And she had done a terrible job of it, no matter how much she had tried to make the rudiments of the story match the reality. She had avoided his gaze through the entire story, only looking for acknowledgement once her tale was complete. He had read her like a book.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Why would you lie to me?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Sarah had nothing. She could only lie again, evade him or tell him the truth.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Because” She began haltingly. “I… don’t think you’d believe me.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Try me, Kiddo.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoBodyTextIndent" style="line-height: 200%; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-indent: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-ansi-language: EN-CA; mso-bidi-font-family: "Courier New";"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Daddy… I think there was a vampire.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.com/2011/07/book-first-part-two-chapter-10_31.html"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Installment ii</span></a></span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7244998478912376709.post-39742264720793874652011-07-18T12:20:00.000-07:002012-09-05T23:32:49.891-07:00Book: The First - Part: Two - Chapter: 9 - Installment: i<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> It wasn’t the first time he had woken up on the floor uncertain of where he was, but this time alcohol had nothing to do with it.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> The cobwebs cleared after a few moments and he put together that he’d fallen asleep sitting beside Carly’s fold-out bed. He had no sense of what time it was, but it was dark out. He had slept for hours. He’d be up all night now. Carly too if she woke up. She’d let go of his thumb and was breathing steadily. With any luck she was exhausted enough to sleep through ‘til morning. He, for one, had slept much more heavily than he expected once he’d finally got to sleep. Watching vigil over Carly had lulled him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> Picking himself off the floor he went into the bathroom to relieve himself. Washing his hands he took a glance in the mirror.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> <em>Could have been worse.</em></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> His face was dirty. He had imagined blood, but none of the blood from the hospital had come anywhere near him. There were streaks down his cheeks where his tears had washed the film of dirt away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> <em>At least I still don’t look sick.</em></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> That was the assurance he had really been eager for. For all of his certainty, the possibility that he might still be wrong was his greatest fear. Not only for himself, but for Carly and of course the horror that he had done the wrong thing when he took them both away from their quarantine. The bathroom light was bright, but his eyes were still adjusting – there was no pain. He wasn’t cold. No hunger.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> Satisfied, he moved into the main room. The kitchen clock read nearly seven PM in the glow of the television. Still no sign of <st1:givenname w:st="on">Bev</st1:givenname>. She had said ‘late.’ That probably meant hours still.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> Sitting down in front of the television again he tried to glean what was the story on Can News Net without turning up the volume.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> The ‘VGH Outbreak’ as it was now being called was prominent in the scroll, but the talking heads on the main portion of the screen were inscrutable with the volume muted. He didn’t care to un-mute for fear of waking Carly, and before too long his attention wandered to the room itself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> He soon realized that he was assessing <st1:givenname w:st="on">Bev</st1:givenname> by her possessions – his detective instincts kicking in. Giving in to his habits he found a light switch and turned on the lights so as to better look at his subject.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> Her CD collection was appalling by his measure. Mostly chick-centric AOR. He counted four <st2:personname w:st="on"><st1:givenname w:st="on">Sinead</st1:givenname> <st1:sn w:st="on">O’Connor</st1:sn></st2:personname> albums he’d never heard of. The large number of Indigo Girls and Ani DiFranco albums got him wondering if perhaps he had misjudged her sexual orientation.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> <em>She never mentioned a boyfriend at meetings.</em></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> Next the bookshelf – a perfect window into a person’s soul. A lot of classics. Austen and the <st1:sn w:st="on">Brontes</st1:sn>, of course. Some <st1:sn w:st="on">Woolf</st1:sn>. But also gothic horror. Poe – must have been a complete collection there. Stoker and Wolstencroft-Shelly – staples. Scott was unfamiliar with the oeuvre, but knew enough to pigeon hole her as a diehard genre fan by the <st1:sn w:st="on">Lovecraft</st1:sn>. Chandler, <st1:sn w:st="on">Verne</st1:sn>, <st1:sn w:st="on">Robbins</st1:sn>, <st2:place w:st="on"><st1:givenname w:st="on">Rand</st1:givenname></st2:place>… <st2:personname w:st="on"><st1:givenname w:st="on">Elmore</st1:givenname> <st1:sn w:st="on">Leonard</st1:sn></st2:personname>!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> <em>Well, she’s not simple.</em></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> His eyes cast over various pictures, a couple of dying plants and above the kitchen cupboard a collection of dusty antique bottles.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> No. Not all antiques.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> One was of a design that was still in use by the Smirnoff Vodka company.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"> <em>Oh <st1:givenname w:st="on">Bev</st1:givenname>. That’s a stupid way of practicing your control.</em></span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> He knew of other alcoholics who kept totems of their past life in arms reach. A defiant act of will that could only go bad one day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> He climbed up on a chair and took a closer look.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"> The bottle was covered in a thick, slightly greasy layer of dust, just like the row of antiques beside it. Gingerly he tested the cap. It was still sealed. Clearly the bottle had sat there for years. She wasn’t doing so badly. In a way her twisted success over herself was admirable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But now he had to get away from it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He got down from the chair and slumped back on the couch again, his detective voyeurism having lost its steam at the demon bottle sitting right up there on the cupboard.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>News Net was cycling through a sports update that was probably a few hours old by now. The Canucks had broken a road-game losing streak and the Lions lost their grip on <st2:personname w:st="on"><st1:givenname w:st="on">Grey</st1:givenname> <st1:sn w:st="on">Cup</st1:sn></st2:personname> contention in the Western Finals. Cursory highlights from the rest of each league and the NBA then back to the ‘All-Outbreak-All-the-Time Channel.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>His own face and Carly’s were front and center. The banner read ‘Citywide Manhunt.’<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“God…” Scott laughed to himself. “…as it turns out, I <i>could</i> use a drink.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>There it is. Acknowledged, and thus defused.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>But it wasn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Once it was said out loud, it wasn’t going away. Hell, it hadn’t been going away from the time his eyes found the bottle.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Shit. I have to get rid of it. She’ll understand, won’t she?</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He was certain that she would. He didn’t have her control. He had to get the bottle out of the house.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Out of sight, out of mind.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He got back up on the chair and pulled down the offending bottle. He turned it over in his hands.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>It would be so easy to just have one drink.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">But it wouldn‘t be easy to have just one drink.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He slid the French door at the back of the house open. He figured he could hit the alley from where he was. The bottle would shatter on the pavement. He could buy <st1:givenname w:st="on">Bev</st1:givenname> another if she really wanted it. Perhaps she’d be happy to have it gone. She would understand.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>If I’m throwing it out anyway…just a sniff. Just a reminder.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He broke the seal and unscrewed the cap. Lifting the bottle to his nose he breathed in the nearly odorless smell of the vodka. The alcohol tickled his nostrils more than any actual scent activated his olfactory nerves. So familiar. And kind of pleasant in a familiar kind of way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Okay. Throw it away. Just one sip. A slug for old times’ sake, then throw the rest of it away, just to prove how much control you actually have.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></span></i><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';">He tipped the bottle to his lips and let a trickle of the vodka past his teeth and over his tongue. It felt so good. The knowledge that he had it beat was so empowering.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He swallowed a mouthful. And another.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He stopped pouring the vodka into his mouth and took a moment to feel the warm sensation of the liquor spreading down his throat, seeming to evaporate into his bloodstream before it even got to his stomach. It really was a wonderful feeling. He could see how he could have become so addicted to it in the first place.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>Okay. One more reminder, then out it goes.</i><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He swallowed down two more liberal mouthfuls and took in the sensations before looking down at the bottle. Must have been a fifth of it already. Impressive.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>An image passed through his mind of being a teenager and taking part in the time honoured tradition of topping up the bottle with water. It was kind of funny, really. He could do that now and <st1:givenname w:st="on">Bev</st1:givenname> would be none the wiser, whereas if he bought a new bottle she’d notice. The thin layer of accumulated dust and ambient cooking oils was something that he could not duplicate on a replacement bottle. She’d probably notice in the interim anyhow.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>How stupid is this? It’s better to do the juvie top-up and leave the original where I found it, like a pimply faced kid in fear of Mom. How ridiculous.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He went to the sink and ran the water. As he was about to pour the thin stream down the neck of the bottle he stopped himself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>I can’t do this. I can’t have this vodka in the house. I’ll just end up drinking it at the worst possible time. Better to get rid of it in a controlled way.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He turned off the tap.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>He opened the cupboard and found a glass.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US" style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Courier New';"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i>No time like the present.</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://necropolisnovels.blogspot.ca/2011/07/book-first-part-two-chapter-10.html">Chapter 10</a></span>Kennedy Goodkeyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10308801339937940368noreply@blogger.com0