The waters outside the boat were calm.
Dr. Grant lounged on the deck overlooking the garden, lost in the fragile peace he had been so fortunate to enjoy. Completely unaware of where about on the planet they were, he stared into the sky.
It was clear, all but for a patch of clouds to the east which seemed to be moving towards the boat, perhaps only hours away.
Moments passed as he reflected on his relationship with his wife, whom Charles had assured him would be alright. Despite the hassle of being questioned by the law, she was free of any direct harm.
Those clouds seemed to be moving a little closer...
Indeed they were rain clouds, but there appeared to be land behind them. The boat was heading towards an island.
"Hilo."
"-Oh, Charles," Dr. Grant was caught off guard.
"you have quite a knack for creeping up on old men. I suppose you must have put that on your resume for the secret society."
"Hysterical, Thaddeus." His tone was less than playful.
"The island off the starboard bow is the island of Hilo. Also known as the big island of Hawaii.
Have you ever been?"
"No. Not yet anyhow." his tone brightened.
"Don't get your hopes up, doctor. We won't be going ashore. Our business is down below. Way down."
The doctor shivered, even though the sun shone and the day was warm.
"Am I to join you in this adventure?"
"That is what I had in mind, yes."
"Judging by your tone, this is no sight seeing pleasure dive. Why do you wish to bring a tired old soul like myself?"
"Like it or not you're a part of this game now. As such, I think it wise for you to be aware of some of the other players. We're going to be spending a lot of time in the sea, at least this turn you won't be entering with any bullets in your back."
"Indeed... "
"When you're ready, Thaddeus."
Charles motioned to the laboratory, indicating the place to meet when he was ready, then stepped off across the deck, leaving the doctor to his own thoughts.
Curiosity and apprehension battled in his head, and as a result, he found himself in the laboratory within the hour.
"You're right on time doctor." greeted the eagle faced woman from before.
"It runs in the blood!"
"You have no idea." she spoke mysteriously.
"So what am I on time for, dear?
"Your shots, doctor."
"Of?"
"What we have here is a blood extracted from Miriam's child."
Dr. Grant's eyes widened in horror.
"Now, now, doctor," she reassured him, "this won't mutate you. But what it will do is allow you entrance into the hidden world of the ocean. This is a great privilege, one that not many people will ever get."
"Privilege... yeah..."
"Now hold out your arm."
He did as she asked.
She tied his arm off, and asked him to make a fist, while she drained some of his blood.
She took the vile out of the syringe attached to his arm, and gave it a slight shake, peering into it.
"You haven't been taking care of yourself very well, doctor."
"Thank you, mother." he responded sarcastically.
"No matter. Now turn around, and take your shirt off. This one's going in your shoulder."
And with that, she injected him with the blood of the beast.
* * *
Charles walked the doctor through the lower decks of the ship. They came into the launch room of several small deep water crafts. Jones was waiting for them, standing beside a low lying craft, with room enough for four people to sit.
The craft itself was shaped like a whale. Angular and curved, the only propeller system the doctor could see lay under the 'fins' on either side of the craft.
"What do you call this piece of work? I'll bet you had a whale of a time putting this one together!"
"You don't know how accurate your jibes are, doctor." Jones seemed slightly amused. "We call this one the Jonah craft, or just Jonah, if you prefer. And yes, it was a 'whale' of a task to create. This craft creates relatively no waste, and moves through the water with the same principles as a porpoise. The fins on the side move much like that of a whale, allowing us great speed with little mechanical propulsion. As you can see, below the fins, and on the bottom of the craft are propellers, which are mostly for leaving the ship."
"Mr. Jones and I have been working on this ever since Miriam had her child. It seems like an eon ago."
Charles reflected.
"Well, what are we waiting for? I've got the blood of a beast and the heart of a senior, let's get down to business. I ain't getting any younger!"
"You sure about that?" Charles gave Dr. Grant an inquisitive look, raising one eyebrow and looking deep into him.
"Uh.."
"Ha ha, just pulling your leg." Charles sported a shit eating grin.
"But you are right. Enough mucking about, let's go see what we can see."
So they got in, and dove down deep.
"Alright chuck," after countless silent minutes, Jones finally spoke.
"we're near the spot."
"And just what spot might that be?" questioned the doctor.
"This is where Miriam rescued me from the grip of the sea. Coincidentally, its also where she was taken."
"So what exactly is it that we're supposed to find here?"
"The Madness."
"And the Madness is what, exactly?"
"Well, that's the trouble. You must think of the Madness not as something tangible, but more like a god of sorts. The ocean bends to it's will, and as humans and inhabitants of this planet, its in our best interest to understand what that will might be."
"So, you've talked with this Madness?"
"I wouldn't say that. In fact, there aren't really words for it. Like a god, if you open yourself to the idea and spirit of the Madness you can sense what it's conveying to you. But none of it comes in words, only in ideas, thoughts, and feelings. The best way to tell if it's imparting its consciousness on you is to judge the thoughts or emotions your experiencing. You must know yourself enough to know when a thought isn't yours. It takes time to define... But once you have it, you may not want it to stop."
"So how are we to come across this god?"
"I'm not sure that we will, Thaddeus, but we have to start somewhere."
Charles slid his chair back towards the tail of the craft. As Dr. Grant was beside him, he leaned over and found the lever on the side of his seat, and followed suit. Charles nodded to Jones, who flicked a switch and raised a divider between the two of them and the rest of the craft.
"Helmets on." Charles ordered as he pulled his own over his head.
Again, Dr. Grant mimicked his movements. Charles turned him around and attached his tank and fastened his hose, then performed the same on himself.
"Well, you dirty scottish prick, today's the first day of the rest of the end of your life!"
And Dr. Grant found himself speechless.
* * *
The two swam through the murky depths wearing flashlights, looking into their surroundings, but always with the warm glow of the light from the Jonah craft behind them. They came across a rock wall, running from the deep up to about 2 km from the surface. Charles motioned for Dr. Grant to follow him downwards. They went slowly, as the pressure from the sea made them weary, eventually coming upon an indent in the rock face. Dr. Grant became excited and moved ahead of Charles, but stopped immediately as he found himself brushing against the body of a hammer head shark.
Charles put his hand up to Dr. Grant's body to tell him to stay, and shone his light down to illuminate the school of hammerheads. Before they had entered the sea, the two had worked out a series of hand signals, and Charles moved his hands to tell Dr. Grant to remain calm and still.
After doing so, he produced a vile of red fluid from his wetsuit.
The doctor looked on in horror, even in the dark, he had a good idea of what was in that bottle.
Blood.
Charles opened it with ease, and let the blood flow into the water around them.
The sharks began to bang into each other in a ferocious frenzy, swimming and biting closely at the pair of humans, but never directly harming them.
Dr. Grant smelled the blood. Even with his breathing apparatus on he could smell the same blood that had gone into his veins hours earlier.
The blood of the beast.
...but not quite.
He could smell it on his breath, but the blood in the ocean was different, lighter somehow, and he had the image of youth in his head.
Strong, hideous, and somehow, righteous.
Atlas.
But how?
Charles grabbed his arm.
Dr. Grant looked at him, and Charles nodded. He tapped his finger to his own head, and the doctor nodded back at him.
The Madness.
The sharks slowed.
As if they had burned all their energy, like burning out after an incredible high.
Even the water stilled.
Until a massive force pushed the doctor up towards the light from the Jonah craft.
But not Charles.
Dr. Grant paused from shock. The Jonah craft blinked it's light once, checking to make sure the divers were alright. Dr. Grant shone his light back, and flicked it on and off 3 times, the signal for more time.
He turned down and began swimming with all his strength.
He felt like he was intruding on a family meeting.
Like a scolding was taking place.
A shark brushed by him. But not a hammerhead. A shark with a great mouth, almost the size of a killer whale.
Without a second thought, Dr. Grant grabbed on to the back fin, conveniently shaped to allow him an easy grip.
The thought of an uneasy host flashed through his mind.
A picture of himself locked in a cozy room with a warm light followed.
He looked back for a second, and the glow from the Jonah craft was quickly fading out of sight, as the megamouth took him deeper
and deeper
and deeper.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Bad morning
Ariel woke up in bad shape.
Not good at all.
Bad.
Busted arm, busted body, and a remorseless nurse to deal with.
Not to mention that she'd been locked alone in a room for a few days, and hadn't eaten anything but bread and water.
A room with only a bed and a table.
No windows.
Didn't matter though. She couldn't escape if she wanted to, she was right fucked up.
Oh, and even better, Miriam has just come to sit down with her.
Great...
"Mrs. Mano, I understand how you must feel right now, confused, in pain-"
"Then why don't you give me some food?!"
"I shall. But there's something that I need from you first."
Ariel's eyes hardened. Her bargaining position was quite dubious..
"Go on." She allowed.
"I need to understand how your pregnancy came to be."
Brief silence
"A sperm entered one of my eggs, and it grew into a child."
"Don't be smart." Miriam warned.
"You were never very open with your friends and family about it. You must have wondered WHY your baby was so, yet neither you nor your husband sought counsel for the difficulties of the pregnancy.
Why, Mrs. Mano, were you so secure about the child?"
"We knew he was special..
What do you want me to say? We thought that it would be better if we raised him away from judgement."
"Don't lie to me, Mrs. Mano. Someone came to see you."
Ariel choked.
In the dead silence, it was loud enough for both of them to hear.
"Yes,
you've met Charles haven't you?"
Ariel paused to take a deep breath, and just stared at Miriam.
This loathsome nurse.
Her prominent cheekbones, looking gaunt with age.
She looked a woman of long lost beauty, ravaged by evil, determined and spiteful.
"How do you know about Charles?"
"We go back.
He's been hunting for your child for quite some time."
"Oh?"
"Yes. And I'm sure that he filled your head with grand tales," Miriam paused for a moment, to give Ariel the chance to volunteer to the conversation, but she ignored the lure.
"But don't be mistaken. He's not in himself an absolutely dangerous man, but the outfit that he belongs to did not want the best for your child."
"You said DID not." Ariel spoke harshly.
"What makes you think my baby isn't alive?"
"I never said that, Mrs. Mano.
I'm only suggesting that he's no longer yours. I'm afraid that child can no longer be considered human.
Now you may not want to hear what I have to say, but ma'am, the world is in danger of your child.
I need to know where you were at the time of the pregnancy."
"Wh..What should that matter?"
"It matters."
"On our anniversary," her and Osmond had always awkwardly laughed about the ocean being the father,
"... our 4th."
"And where was that at?"
Ariel was feeling light headed, suddenly fiendishly drowsy. She didn't want to tell this woman anything. She wanted to spit in her face and tell her to go to hell, but couldn't fight her curiosity. She had to tell her, she had to know what she thought!
"Hawaii."
Miriam stared into her eyes for a moment, looking for any lie, and found none.
She sat back in her chair, and chewed it over.
Then stood up and walked out of the room.
Not good at all.
Bad.
Busted arm, busted body, and a remorseless nurse to deal with.
Not to mention that she'd been locked alone in a room for a few days, and hadn't eaten anything but bread and water.
A room with only a bed and a table.
No windows.
Didn't matter though. She couldn't escape if she wanted to, she was right fucked up.
Oh, and even better, Miriam has just come to sit down with her.
Great...
"Mrs. Mano, I understand how you must feel right now, confused, in pain-"
"Then why don't you give me some food?!"
"I shall. But there's something that I need from you first."
Ariel's eyes hardened. Her bargaining position was quite dubious..
"Go on." She allowed.
"I need to understand how your pregnancy came to be."
Brief silence
"A sperm entered one of my eggs, and it grew into a child."
"Don't be smart." Miriam warned.
"You were never very open with your friends and family about it. You must have wondered WHY your baby was so, yet neither you nor your husband sought counsel for the difficulties of the pregnancy.
Why, Mrs. Mano, were you so secure about the child?"
"We knew he was special..
What do you want me to say? We thought that it would be better if we raised him away from judgement."
"Don't lie to me, Mrs. Mano. Someone came to see you."
Ariel choked.
In the dead silence, it was loud enough for both of them to hear.
"Yes,
you've met Charles haven't you?"
Ariel paused to take a deep breath, and just stared at Miriam.
This loathsome nurse.
Her prominent cheekbones, looking gaunt with age.
She looked a woman of long lost beauty, ravaged by evil, determined and spiteful.
"How do you know about Charles?"
"We go back.
He's been hunting for your child for quite some time."
"Oh?"
"Yes. And I'm sure that he filled your head with grand tales," Miriam paused for a moment, to give Ariel the chance to volunteer to the conversation, but she ignored the lure.
"But don't be mistaken. He's not in himself an absolutely dangerous man, but the outfit that he belongs to did not want the best for your child."
"You said DID not." Ariel spoke harshly.
"What makes you think my baby isn't alive?"
"I never said that, Mrs. Mano.
I'm only suggesting that he's no longer yours. I'm afraid that child can no longer be considered human.
Now you may not want to hear what I have to say, but ma'am, the world is in danger of your child.
I need to know where you were at the time of the pregnancy."
"Wh..What should that matter?"
"It matters."
"On our anniversary," her and Osmond had always awkwardly laughed about the ocean being the father,
"... our 4th."
"And where was that at?"
Ariel was feeling light headed, suddenly fiendishly drowsy. She didn't want to tell this woman anything. She wanted to spit in her face and tell her to go to hell, but couldn't fight her curiosity. She had to tell her, she had to know what she thought!
"Hawaii."
Miriam stared into her eyes for a moment, looking for any lie, and found none.
She sat back in her chair, and chewed it over.
Then stood up and walked out of the room.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
How to fool yourself, 101
The child's parents had lain in the basement of the church house for almost a week.
The priest and nuns of the parish thankfully trusted Miriam's wisdom.
And why should they not? She was constantly on a one to one basis with the almighty.
She had to be.
She'd given birth to his enemy's pawn.
'NO! It's not true!' she screamed silently to herself.
Her child couldn't be the beast of the devil, he just couldn't be!
This shark creature, he was more of a beast than her deserted son, and had a heathen name, none the less!
Atlas....
ATLAS!!!
He had to be the REAL beast. His namesake implied it!
Atlas, who carried the heavens on his shoulders.. The heavens of heathen gods...
But what plagued her mind, was how?...
How had Ariel become pregnant with such a child? Was is the same force that had given Miriam her baby?
Could they both have become entangled in the will of the ocean?
It seemed logical enough, but Ariel wasn't afflicted with the same irrationalities and maddening that Miriam had suffered...
In fact, she was much stronger.
Bitch!
How could she be?! She had lost her child after only days, and she remained defiant and confident, even more so than her husband.
"If only my man had been as supportive, my child could have been properly loved," she softly said to herself, then frowned in reflection, "Charles...You bastard."
If she could see him again, she'd crush him. She'd break him.
Spanish inquisition style. She'd make him admit that he was wrong, that God loved their child, and that he was the father. No madness of the ocean had created her baby!
He was mad! He couldn't deal with being a father!
He was weak! Weak, pathetic men, creating ways to disprove God. They would learn...
They'll all learn!
'When my baby comes for me,' she said to herself, 'and destroys this monstrous Atlas!
When God comes for us all...
And destroys this monstrous world!
Then they'll all see!
Bastards!
Then they can look to their Atlas! Then they can have their evolution, and their theories,
and they can all rot in hell!'
Especially Charles!
But for now, she'd have to settle for finding out just how the parents were cursed with that infernal child.
Monday, September 13, 2010
Dinner... is served
The Ogopogo slithered back to it's murky home.
A cave outside of the Okanagan Lake, with cleaner water, and enough seclusion from the human race to raise it's head above water when it felt the desire for air. An ideal place to foster the fledgeling man shark.
The child had been in it's care for several rotations of the sun, barely eating anything, as the ancient creature was unsure of what the child's body could even process. But after endless amounts of searching, it had found a nest of mollusks, easy for the child to swallow, and shells that the ogopogo could easily open.
But it returned to an empty nest.
The giant sea snake opened its enormous ears. Like sails raising to catch wind, the angular webbed fins on the sides of it's reptilian skull opened into a conical shape, shifting and turning from side to side, scanning the reverberations of the water for signs of the child.
'Interesting', it mused. Atlas was in the middle of sticking his head out of the water.
The Ogopogo slithered it's tremendous body up to just below the surface, perched itself on a submerged edge of rock, and raised it's monstrous head into the air.
Baby Atlas was struggling to crawl on to a rock, while feebly whipping his under developed tail.
"Silly thing.." The Ogopogo thought to itself, as it stared in derision.
As he did, Atlas opened his eyes, becoming aware of its presence, stretched his frail arms, and pulled himself up, suddenly not sure how to breath, as his mind wasn't yet developed enough to automatically switch from breathing through gills to lungs.
As his head, neck, and torso emerged from the water, Atlas paused. His eyes bugged out, unsure what to do, simply frozen between his worlds.
The Ogopogo leaned close to Atlas, opened it's nostrils, and inhaled, curious as to what exactly this unfortunate little miscreant's smell would be.
He smelled like a man. A salty, scaly man.
The Ogopogo snorted in disgust, the power of the air escaping its nose blowing Atlas back into the water, where he breathed deep through his gills.
The Ogopogo waited above water to see what Atlas would do next, and to it's amusement, Atlas swam back to the rock, wagged his tail until his tiny arms could catch hold of the rocks face, and he began to pull himself up.
He failed.
The Ogopogo opened it's mouth and emptied out the mollusks, kept in a pouch located under its tongue, which was forked and long like a snake's.
It rolled them onto the rock, and picked one up with the two prongs on the end of its tongue, raised the shelled mollusk to it's mouth, and placed it between it's back teeth, which unlike it's pointy spiked front teeth, were wide and serrated.
It waited for Atlas to make his way to the surface again.
When he stuck his head out of the water, crawling onto the rock, Atlas matched eyes with the great sea snake, who at that moment, cracked the shell of the mollusk between it's teeth, and rolled the pulsing mussel out on to the top of the rock.
Atlas stared at the mussel, and then at the Ogopogo, then slank back into the water.
The sea snake waited.
In a mad splash, Atlas popped up out of the water, getting his entire body onto the rock, scrambling to the top. He'd never used his legs before, and they scraped and scratched against the rocks face, while his arms worked to pull him up, and his tail pushed against the granite slab, giving him the balance and base he needed to force himself to the top, and open his mouth to devour the mussel.
But it wriggled away from him and fell into the water.
Dumbfounded, Atlas momentarily just stared after his evasive meal, then finally dove for it, catching it on the way to the bottom.
The Ogopogo felt his lips curl, and caught himself smiling at Atlas' efforts.
But before he would allow himself a father's pride, he cracked another shell, rolled out the mussel from within, and waited for round two.
A cave outside of the Okanagan Lake, with cleaner water, and enough seclusion from the human race to raise it's head above water when it felt the desire for air. An ideal place to foster the fledgeling man shark.
The child had been in it's care for several rotations of the sun, barely eating anything, as the ancient creature was unsure of what the child's body could even process. But after endless amounts of searching, it had found a nest of mollusks, easy for the child to swallow, and shells that the ogopogo could easily open.
But it returned to an empty nest.
The giant sea snake opened its enormous ears. Like sails raising to catch wind, the angular webbed fins on the sides of it's reptilian skull opened into a conical shape, shifting and turning from side to side, scanning the reverberations of the water for signs of the child.
'Interesting', it mused. Atlas was in the middle of sticking his head out of the water.
The Ogopogo slithered it's tremendous body up to just below the surface, perched itself on a submerged edge of rock, and raised it's monstrous head into the air.
Baby Atlas was struggling to crawl on to a rock, while feebly whipping his under developed tail.
"Silly thing.." The Ogopogo thought to itself, as it stared in derision.
As he did, Atlas opened his eyes, becoming aware of its presence, stretched his frail arms, and pulled himself up, suddenly not sure how to breath, as his mind wasn't yet developed enough to automatically switch from breathing through gills to lungs.
As his head, neck, and torso emerged from the water, Atlas paused. His eyes bugged out, unsure what to do, simply frozen between his worlds.
The Ogopogo leaned close to Atlas, opened it's nostrils, and inhaled, curious as to what exactly this unfortunate little miscreant's smell would be.
He smelled like a man. A salty, scaly man.
The Ogopogo snorted in disgust, the power of the air escaping its nose blowing Atlas back into the water, where he breathed deep through his gills.
The Ogopogo waited above water to see what Atlas would do next, and to it's amusement, Atlas swam back to the rock, wagged his tail until his tiny arms could catch hold of the rocks face, and he began to pull himself up.
He failed.
The Ogopogo opened it's mouth and emptied out the mollusks, kept in a pouch located under its tongue, which was forked and long like a snake's.
It rolled them onto the rock, and picked one up with the two prongs on the end of its tongue, raised the shelled mollusk to it's mouth, and placed it between it's back teeth, which unlike it's pointy spiked front teeth, were wide and serrated.
It waited for Atlas to make his way to the surface again.
When he stuck his head out of the water, crawling onto the rock, Atlas matched eyes with the great sea snake, who at that moment, cracked the shell of the mollusk between it's teeth, and rolled the pulsing mussel out on to the top of the rock.
Atlas stared at the mussel, and then at the Ogopogo, then slank back into the water.
The sea snake waited.
In a mad splash, Atlas popped up out of the water, getting his entire body onto the rock, scrambling to the top. He'd never used his legs before, and they scraped and scratched against the rocks face, while his arms worked to pull him up, and his tail pushed against the granite slab, giving him the balance and base he needed to force himself to the top, and open his mouth to devour the mussel.
But it wriggled away from him and fell into the water.
Dumbfounded, Atlas momentarily just stared after his evasive meal, then finally dove for it, catching it on the way to the bottom.
The Ogopogo felt his lips curl, and caught himself smiling at Atlas' efforts.
But before he would allow himself a father's pride, he cracked another shell, rolled out the mussel from within, and waited for round two.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Tea and conflicts
The elevator opened into the room that the three heads of the organization occupied. Charles' return was of no surprise to them, and they received him with the same sedate welcome that was shown to Dr. Grant the morning prior.
Charles moved around the room as if it were his own. He bowed his head in salutation and strolled over to the left side of the chamber where he found the tea pot, and set it on top of a black mat underneath several mirrors, coming down from the still open ceiling.
The mechanics of the kettle involved heating the water inside it via solar power, but quite rudimentary.
Like cooking ants with a magnifying glass, the mirrors reflected concentrated sunlight to heat the black mat and the water in the kettle.
He walked to the back of the room, and where the doctor hadn't noticed another door handle, Charles opened a hidden door which led into a greenhouse, where he picked a fresh bunch of dandelions. He walked them back to the shelf where the teapot heated, and tore the weeds into bits, then put them into the top of the teapot.
After a moment he removed the kettle from the pad and mirrors, and sat it down in the middle of the circle of men, leaving it to steep.
"Gentlemen," he eased into conversation, "as you may have already concluded, the child has been taken by the lake." he paused to confirm that his peers understood, saw that they did, and went on, "This isn't immediately a problem, as the Ogopogo has been living in the murky waters of the Okanagan to long to be of much trouble. It's highly unlikely that it would hurt or damage the child, if anything, the presence of new life may cause the ancient creature to rebirth itself."
As he said this, Charles stepped over to the shelf again to retrieve cups, which he filled, and handed out one at a time to his peers.
"The ocean has become aware, too. Like little birds, the rivers and streams carried the news to the sea. I could feel it stirring as I came here. There is much unrest in the sea. The beast is growing, I could sense him... I could feel him," he paused to find the right words, "blaming me."
"For separating him from his mother?" Smith suggested.
"It felt more like, it blamed me for not treating it like my own son. It thinks I'm its father. But I never had the chance to be. That child is half madness, half Miriam."
"So... all madness?" Dr. Grant put in.
"Hah!" this prompted a cynical snicker from Charles. The other men just ignored the jib.
"She wasn't always the She-bitch that she's become today, Thaddeus." he scolded his brother in law, "The child made her that way. The madness made it's way into her womb, like a twisted version of the Mary Magdalene story, but instead of an angel delivering the messiah into her womb, it was the madness of the ocean, the living chaos that twists the fate of the earth to its own will, that delivered the beast into her body! It's the same principle that the Ogopogo will employ if it decides to rebirth. To create a new body able to host an intelligent mind, it requires the DNA of an aptly evolved egg!
For ages there were plenty of pickings in the ocean, and the sea lords thrived as the madness gave birth to new life time and again. But the poisons we've introduced into their natural habitats; oil, sonar, excrement, all these things cause deformities and obstructions in the random course of evolution in the sea.
Hence why the madness inseminated a woman with a creature bent on destruction of our species. It's the ocean's way of retaliating!"
"Then why the shark child? Was one affliction upon us not enough?" Dr. Grant was trying to piece it together.
Charles smiled. Even the elders of his organization pricked their ears and paid close attention to the wisdom that he was revealing.
"That, my dear man," he drew out his words, relishing the truth he was laying upon them, "is the beauty of the madness. It creates a demon to inflict suffering and false hope upon our species, and then without a second thought gives us salvation in the form of something even more hideous and unwanted! The madness doesn't see the world in good or evil, only in struggle! It thrives on conflict... Or rather, it feeds on conflict. The natural order of the world outside of our species is to eat and be eaten. That's the balance that is spawned from the madness. But in all its chaotic intent, order is inevitably formed. So it forms new life, forcing evolution and adaptation for survival of those that have settled into dominance.
Now it's our turn."
"Why ours? Are we not beasts of land, feeding on the sea?"
"Yes, we have been for an age, but the waters are going to rise, and if we are to survive, we're going to have to learn the rules of the sea. The age is about to turn, brother. The age of man is going to change.
We're going to have to put our faith in someone who understands both worlds."
"Someone like a half man, half shark."
"Precisely."
Charles moved around the room as if it were his own. He bowed his head in salutation and strolled over to the left side of the chamber where he found the tea pot, and set it on top of a black mat underneath several mirrors, coming down from the still open ceiling.
The mechanics of the kettle involved heating the water inside it via solar power, but quite rudimentary.
Like cooking ants with a magnifying glass, the mirrors reflected concentrated sunlight to heat the black mat and the water in the kettle.
He walked to the back of the room, and where the doctor hadn't noticed another door handle, Charles opened a hidden door which led into a greenhouse, where he picked a fresh bunch of dandelions. He walked them back to the shelf where the teapot heated, and tore the weeds into bits, then put them into the top of the teapot.
After a moment he removed the kettle from the pad and mirrors, and sat it down in the middle of the circle of men, leaving it to steep.
"Gentlemen," he eased into conversation, "as you may have already concluded, the child has been taken by the lake." he paused to confirm that his peers understood, saw that they did, and went on, "This isn't immediately a problem, as the Ogopogo has been living in the murky waters of the Okanagan to long to be of much trouble. It's highly unlikely that it would hurt or damage the child, if anything, the presence of new life may cause the ancient creature to rebirth itself."
As he said this, Charles stepped over to the shelf again to retrieve cups, which he filled, and handed out one at a time to his peers.
"The ocean has become aware, too. Like little birds, the rivers and streams carried the news to the sea. I could feel it stirring as I came here. There is much unrest in the sea. The beast is growing, I could sense him... I could feel him," he paused to find the right words, "blaming me."
"For separating him from his mother?" Smith suggested.
"It felt more like, it blamed me for not treating it like my own son. It thinks I'm its father. But I never had the chance to be. That child is half madness, half Miriam."
"So... all madness?" Dr. Grant put in.
"Hah!" this prompted a cynical snicker from Charles. The other men just ignored the jib.
"She wasn't always the She-bitch that she's become today, Thaddeus." he scolded his brother in law, "The child made her that way. The madness made it's way into her womb, like a twisted version of the Mary Magdalene story, but instead of an angel delivering the messiah into her womb, it was the madness of the ocean, the living chaos that twists the fate of the earth to its own will, that delivered the beast into her body! It's the same principle that the Ogopogo will employ if it decides to rebirth. To create a new body able to host an intelligent mind, it requires the DNA of an aptly evolved egg!
For ages there were plenty of pickings in the ocean, and the sea lords thrived as the madness gave birth to new life time and again. But the poisons we've introduced into their natural habitats; oil, sonar, excrement, all these things cause deformities and obstructions in the random course of evolution in the sea.
Hence why the madness inseminated a woman with a creature bent on destruction of our species. It's the ocean's way of retaliating!"
"Then why the shark child? Was one affliction upon us not enough?" Dr. Grant was trying to piece it together.
Charles smiled. Even the elders of his organization pricked their ears and paid close attention to the wisdom that he was revealing.
"That, my dear man," he drew out his words, relishing the truth he was laying upon them, "is the beauty of the madness. It creates a demon to inflict suffering and false hope upon our species, and then without a second thought gives us salvation in the form of something even more hideous and unwanted! The madness doesn't see the world in good or evil, only in struggle! It thrives on conflict... Or rather, it feeds on conflict. The natural order of the world outside of our species is to eat and be eaten. That's the balance that is spawned from the madness. But in all its chaotic intent, order is inevitably formed. So it forms new life, forcing evolution and adaptation for survival of those that have settled into dominance.
Now it's our turn."
"Why ours? Are we not beasts of land, feeding on the sea?"
"Yes, we have been for an age, but the waters are going to rise, and if we are to survive, we're going to have to learn the rules of the sea. The age is about to turn, brother. The age of man is going to change.
We're going to have to put our faith in someone who understands both worlds."
"Someone like a half man, half shark."
"Precisely."
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Charles return
Dr. Grant wandered the ship, pondering all that had taken place in the last days.
Miriam... How long had he known her for? She had been his head nurse for months... Was it years?
At the hospital he concluded that he hadn't known her for long, but with a clear head, and time to meditate, he realized that she had worked there for some time, not always as head nurse. She had stayed low, intentionally or not, she hadn't moved into position as head nurse of the ward until the winter of last year.
How did she know all about the child?
No, that's not the question. How would she not have known...
The real question is how come it never got out of the hospital and into the world.
Hmmm...
But more than that, what was going to become of his wife? Would Charles fetch her?
Certainly a man of such secrecy and tact wouldn't allow any harm to befall his own sister. What if it was Charles' implementation and strategy that had kept word of the child low?
It must have been.
And just what was he supposed to do, he considered.
He had vowed to the parents that he was in it with them, that he would ensure that child survives.
So that was it. He had made a promise, and he had to make good on it.
"Thaddeus." Charles greeted him from behind.
The doctor had barely had the chance to see his face when Charles saved him from the quay, he almost didn't know what to expect as he turned around.
The man looked young. Much younger than he had to be. His sister was in her 50's, and she wasn't much older than Charles, only by several years. Yet he carried himself like a man in his early thirties, lithe, fit, and clearly active. Only by looking into his eyes could you see the age of his soul.
"Charles," he began, but didn't know where to start, "What the blazes man, Angie never told me you had a boat!"
Charles looked upset, but realized his sister's husband was reverting back to his usual clowning around.
"Well, why would I tell her? So I could have her come on and bang her pasty scottish lover all over my beautiful ship?"
It was Dr. Grant's turn to be surprised. Charles had always been a ghost, and when he did show himself he was quiet, reserved, and somber. Never had the doctor heard him joke, or even seen him smile!
After a perplexing moment they shared a good laugh, and embraced.
"Alright, Thaddeus," Charles demeanour slightly changed,
"I have news, and we have work to do."
Miriam... How long had he known her for? She had been his head nurse for months... Was it years?
At the hospital he concluded that he hadn't known her for long, but with a clear head, and time to meditate, he realized that she had worked there for some time, not always as head nurse. She had stayed low, intentionally or not, she hadn't moved into position as head nurse of the ward until the winter of last year.
How did she know all about the child?
No, that's not the question. How would she not have known...
The real question is how come it never got out of the hospital and into the world.
Hmmm...
But more than that, what was going to become of his wife? Would Charles fetch her?
Certainly a man of such secrecy and tact wouldn't allow any harm to befall his own sister. What if it was Charles' implementation and strategy that had kept word of the child low?
It must have been.
And just what was he supposed to do, he considered.
He had vowed to the parents that he was in it with them, that he would ensure that child survives.
So that was it. He had made a promise, and he had to make good on it.
"Thaddeus." Charles greeted him from behind.
The doctor had barely had the chance to see his face when Charles saved him from the quay, he almost didn't know what to expect as he turned around.
The man looked young. Much younger than he had to be. His sister was in her 50's, and she wasn't much older than Charles, only by several years. Yet he carried himself like a man in his early thirties, lithe, fit, and clearly active. Only by looking into his eyes could you see the age of his soul.
"Charles," he began, but didn't know where to start, "What the blazes man, Angie never told me you had a boat!"
Charles looked upset, but realized his sister's husband was reverting back to his usual clowning around.
"Well, why would I tell her? So I could have her come on and bang her pasty scottish lover all over my beautiful ship?"
It was Dr. Grant's turn to be surprised. Charles had always been a ghost, and when he did show himself he was quiet, reserved, and somber. Never had the doctor heard him joke, or even seen him smile!
After a perplexing moment they shared a good laugh, and embraced.
"Alright, Thaddeus," Charles demeanour slightly changed,
"I have news, and we have work to do."
Monday, September 6, 2010
The deep
The waters of the Okanagan receded.
Chester handcuffed Osmond and threw him in the back of his damaged cruiser, while he radioed other members of the church to come and tend to the broken Ariel.
Miriam just stared at the lake.
"It's not that deep." she said to no one in particular. "You'll have to come out sometime..." she continued, this time speaking in the direction of the lost baby.
"And when you do, I'll be waiting..." 'and so will my son', she thought to herself, but dared not speak, in case anyone of importance may be listening.
"What do ya have in store fer these here folks, ma'am?" Chester broke her reverie.
"To find out just how that baby came to be. They must know the ocean, Chester. There's no other way."
"Ain't bein' the beast explanation enuff? If'n ya don't mind me say'n so."
"No Chester, it's not. If we have to, we're going to take her womb apart and examine it, bit by bit."
"That don't sound like the works o' no god I ever known."
"No, you're right. We may just have to have faith that they'll co-operate. And maybe we can stop the beast from controlling the land."
"Amen. Amen to that, ma'am."
Miriam just stared at the lake....
Atlas sunk. Less than four days old, this would be his first memory. Not because he was separated from his parents, and not because he was taken by the lake. He would always remember the feeling of breathlessness, the cutoff from air, and the liberation of it.
He sunk deeper and deeper, to where he could not see. To where no creature could see, and next to no creature could smell or taste. Touch and sound ruled down below, and when the Ogopogo first came upon baby Atlas, he could hear no sounds of breath, and felt no movement of lungs.
'What is this?' It thought to itself, 'A creature with gills and lungs, but needs not breath?
What demon spawn could this be?'
The ancient sea snake inhaled a monstrous amount of muggy, dark, sea water into its maw, held baby Atlas in his palm, and expelled the fluid with tremendous pressure, forcing Atlas' gills to open and accept their purpose.
Atlas became began to choke, but could not cry.
The change in his body was immediate, from boy to shark, he transformed seamlessly.
The Ogopogo rejoiced at this. A new life in its hands, so long had it been alone.
It examined the body of this strange creature, felt its fins and tail, its disproportionate head, and it's human genitalia.
"By the madness," it thought to itself, "It has been given unto me to raise this child? To train and develop this wonder which the world itself has been waiting for?!"
He himself doubted the prophecy of the earth's saviour, but the madness had done it. It had created its own evolution, it's own child, through the womb of a human.
But the Ogopogo was old.
It had become anemic from it's centuries of seclusion. Adapted to it's chosen environment, the sea snake had spent its time learning from the water. Learning how to move as one within it, how to control it, how to bond with the madness that lies in all things.
It had done this in hope of the truth that now lay in it's palm. Waiting for the time to draw near when the world would turn, and the Ogopogo could have revenge on the lords of the ocean, and regain it's place as king.
But it could not do these things in it's current body.
Which was no matter, for it had been far too long without reproduction. The Ogopogo thanked the madness, and went in search of nourishment for his protege.
It was time to find an egg.
Chester handcuffed Osmond and threw him in the back of his damaged cruiser, while he radioed other members of the church to come and tend to the broken Ariel.
Miriam just stared at the lake.
"It's not that deep." she said to no one in particular. "You'll have to come out sometime..." she continued, this time speaking in the direction of the lost baby.
"And when you do, I'll be waiting..." 'and so will my son', she thought to herself, but dared not speak, in case anyone of importance may be listening.
"What do ya have in store fer these here folks, ma'am?" Chester broke her reverie.
"To find out just how that baby came to be. They must know the ocean, Chester. There's no other way."
"Ain't bein' the beast explanation enuff? If'n ya don't mind me say'n so."
"No Chester, it's not. If we have to, we're going to take her womb apart and examine it, bit by bit."
"That don't sound like the works o' no god I ever known."
"No, you're right. We may just have to have faith that they'll co-operate. And maybe we can stop the beast from controlling the land."
"Amen. Amen to that, ma'am."
Miriam just stared at the lake....
Atlas sunk. Less than four days old, this would be his first memory. Not because he was separated from his parents, and not because he was taken by the lake. He would always remember the feeling of breathlessness, the cutoff from air, and the liberation of it.
He sunk deeper and deeper, to where he could not see. To where no creature could see, and next to no creature could smell or taste. Touch and sound ruled down below, and when the Ogopogo first came upon baby Atlas, he could hear no sounds of breath, and felt no movement of lungs.
'What is this?' It thought to itself, 'A creature with gills and lungs, but needs not breath?
What demon spawn could this be?'
The ancient sea snake inhaled a monstrous amount of muggy, dark, sea water into its maw, held baby Atlas in his palm, and expelled the fluid with tremendous pressure, forcing Atlas' gills to open and accept their purpose.
Atlas became began to choke, but could not cry.
The change in his body was immediate, from boy to shark, he transformed seamlessly.
The Ogopogo rejoiced at this. A new life in its hands, so long had it been alone.
It examined the body of this strange creature, felt its fins and tail, its disproportionate head, and it's human genitalia.
"By the madness," it thought to itself, "It has been given unto me to raise this child? To train and develop this wonder which the world itself has been waiting for?!"
He himself doubted the prophecy of the earth's saviour, but the madness had done it. It had created its own evolution, it's own child, through the womb of a human.
But the Ogopogo was old.
It had become anemic from it's centuries of seclusion. Adapted to it's chosen environment, the sea snake had spent its time learning from the water. Learning how to move as one within it, how to control it, how to bond with the madness that lies in all things.
It had done this in hope of the truth that now lay in it's palm. Waiting for the time to draw near when the world would turn, and the Ogopogo could have revenge on the lords of the ocean, and regain it's place as king.
But it could not do these things in it's current body.
Which was no matter, for it had been far too long without reproduction. The Ogopogo thanked the madness, and went in search of nourishment for his protege.
It was time to find an egg.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Revelations 2
Dr. Grant sipped his tea.
He could feel a change in the atmosphere in the room.
Smith breathed deeply, closing his eyes, meditating, and giving the doctor time to digest the problem presented by the ogopogo.
The issue lay in the fact that the Ogopogo was ancient and bitter.
Once king of the sea, he'd fled the deep centuries ago, to lie in wait for the waters to change, as well as the order of power in the ocean.
What concerned the scientists is the fragility of the Ogopogo's mental state.
Would it raise the child as its own, and refuse to let it go? Or would it use the child as a pawn to strike back at the Megaladon?
The only concrete evidence the scientists had of this knowledge had come from Charles himself.
In his youth he had been able to tap into the madness of the sea, and had become engulfed in the mysteries of the ocean. Some had feared that he had been lost in some sort of ocean black hole, never to return.
But he did.
Sort of.
"Something has happened." Smith declared. "I can feel it in the earth... something's changed."
"I can sense it too." chimed Jones.
"An eruption... an unnatural change of the dynamics of the planet... but not huge.
I can feel it through the air.. not the sea.." Smith continued.
"Maybe they got the child to the lake?" the doctor suggested.
"We can only hope it's not so. It would be devastating to lose another child." Commented Ryan.
"Another child?" This was new to the doctor.
"When Charles came from the ocean, he wasn't alone. His wife had gone to find him, and she too had been taken by the madness. She returned from the sea with child. A child not unlike that of the Mano's.
A child that we wanted to study. To learn from, as well as teach." Ryan went on.
"Yes," Smith interjected, "but Charles began to lose his love for her, as he knew more of the child than she. He understood the purpose of the baby, it's prophecy to raze the world we know. So he brought his wife and the baby to a laboratory and safe zone outside the Okanagan. The very same one that the shark child was destined for, so that his genetic make up could be studied, and the catastrophic future he would bring could be averted. But his wife began to lose her mind.
Infatuated with the madness, unable to let go of her child, she made off with it, and returned him to the sea."
"What happened to this woman?"
"We're unsure. We believe she turned to the church, and changed her name to Miriam."
He could feel a change in the atmosphere in the room.
Smith breathed deeply, closing his eyes, meditating, and giving the doctor time to digest the problem presented by the ogopogo.
The issue lay in the fact that the Ogopogo was ancient and bitter.
Once king of the sea, he'd fled the deep centuries ago, to lie in wait for the waters to change, as well as the order of power in the ocean.
What concerned the scientists is the fragility of the Ogopogo's mental state.
Would it raise the child as its own, and refuse to let it go? Or would it use the child as a pawn to strike back at the Megaladon?
The only concrete evidence the scientists had of this knowledge had come from Charles himself.
In his youth he had been able to tap into the madness of the sea, and had become engulfed in the mysteries of the ocean. Some had feared that he had been lost in some sort of ocean black hole, never to return.
But he did.
Sort of.
"Something has happened." Smith declared. "I can feel it in the earth... something's changed."
"I can sense it too." chimed Jones.
"An eruption... an unnatural change of the dynamics of the planet... but not huge.
I can feel it through the air.. not the sea.." Smith continued.
"Maybe they got the child to the lake?" the doctor suggested.
"We can only hope it's not so. It would be devastating to lose another child." Commented Ryan.
"Another child?" This was new to the doctor.
"When Charles came from the ocean, he wasn't alone. His wife had gone to find him, and she too had been taken by the madness. She returned from the sea with child. A child not unlike that of the Mano's.
A child that we wanted to study. To learn from, as well as teach." Ryan went on.
"Yes," Smith interjected, "but Charles began to lose his love for her, as he knew more of the child than she. He understood the purpose of the baby, it's prophecy to raze the world we know. So he brought his wife and the baby to a laboratory and safe zone outside the Okanagan. The very same one that the shark child was destined for, so that his genetic make up could be studied, and the catastrophic future he would bring could be averted. But his wife began to lose her mind.
Infatuated with the madness, unable to let go of her child, she made off with it, and returned him to the sea."
"What happened to this woman?"
"We're unsure. We believe she turned to the church, and changed her name to Miriam."
Thursday, September 2, 2010
The lake
Ariel had never been to the Okanagan before, but she knew that it couldn't have been as far a drive as it seemed. The destination on the map they found in the van was only around 6 hours from Vancouver.
Yet it seemed like they had been driving for twice that.
She noticed a land mark that she had seen already once before when Osmond was driving. A large windmill, with what looked to be a farm several kilometres away. She opened her window, and even through the air conditioning she could smell the lake.
It took her a moment to convince herself that she had seen that same windmill before.. And it was because last time the sky was dark. This time it was lighter out. She nudged Osmond, who snapped to alertness.
The baby woke as well, and started to squirm about.
"Miriam, where about's are we?" she inquired.
"I'm not exactly sure where the safe house is. Like I said, I grew up around here, but I've never been to the place we're supposed to be."
Something about her voice resonated with Ariel. The calm command was shaken.
Miriam wasn't telling the whole story, there's no way that she was this lost.
Osmond looked concerned too. Ariel was at least comforted that she wasn't alone in her suspicions of their 'nurse'.
Atlas grew more and more restless. Ariel lifted his mouth to her left breast, but he shirked the opportunity to feed. Sudden fear shot through Ariel. A newborn resisting the chance to feed? That's not right at all... not that Atlas was by any means conventional, but it still filled her full of dread.
Osmond grabbed her hand, and squeezed it in warning.
A squad car up ahead.
Miriam didn't seem bothered though. In fact, she seemed relieved.
"Keep him covered babe," Osmond instructed as he moved to the passenger side bucket seat.
"Don't worry, this should be nothing." Miriam eased. But her words were cold and unsettling. They'd been driving in circles far too long, and only now did any other cars show up on the deserted road, and a squad car? Bad news.
Miriam slowed to a stop as an RCMP officer stepped into the middle of the road, and walked up to her window.
"Mornin' ma'am," he spoke with a southern accent.
"You lost little lady?"
"Yes sir, we've been trying to find our family farm." She spoke with such ease and unconcern. All the shakiness in her voice evaporated.
"Well now, just whereabout' that be, sugah?"
Osmond couldn't help but wonder why in the hell a southerner would end up as a mountie in British Columbia... And parked in the middle of the road, with nothing around but a windmill in the distance behind them... He'd seen that windmill, shortly before Miriam suggested she drive.
The alarm in his head started ringing again, he could barely concentrate on what the officer was saying, he looked at his wife, and back at the windmill, then back at his wife, who's eyes began to bug out as if to say, "We're in deep shit. Do something!"
"Osmond, would you pass me that map out of the glove compartment, please?"
As if unable to control himself, he reached for the map and passed it to her, trying with all his will to hide the look of fear creeping onto his face.
"You aw'right there son?"
"Yeh...yeah...We're just having a hard time finding the place..." he stumbled over his words.
The mountie took the map, and with barely so much as a glance at it he frowned in contemplation.
"I'm afraid there's been a bit o' trouble down thar. I dunna suggest you folks head that there way jus' yet.
If'n ya like, I could guide ya's to a nearby chapel ya could hold out fer a spell."
"Oh, that would be just wonderful," Miriam obliged.
This time Osmond couldn't help his shock. He just stared at her, and she turned to him with that same calm face, "See? The lord provides."
He looked back at his wife, who just stared at him with the same look, and mouthed the word 'no'.
The mountie continued, "Aw 'right then, jus' folla me, now. It's jus' a tad up the way."
He walked back to his car, and Miriam turned her head to smile at Osmond.
Before she could form a smile, Osmond cranked her right in the face, then again. He unbuckled her seat belt, opened the door, and kicked her right out of the van.
He revved up the van and slammed it right into the back of the cruiser, turning it slightly to the side, and then rammed it again. He backed up quickly, and before the cruiser could get its engine turned on he plowed the van into the side of it and ran it right off the road.
Ariel began screaming "What the hell did you do! What are you thinking! Where are we gonna go!"
"We're going right to that farm by the windmill. We've been circling it for hours! That bitch knows EXACTLY where we were supposed to go! Why in the fuck would a canadian mountie have a southern accent and take us to the church? She's been waiting for them to show up and lead us right into their trap!"
"So what?! We're just going to show up to a safe house with a cruiser and that mad bitch on our tail?!"
"Would you rather go to that church?!"
"Aaaaaahhh!" She wailed.
But he was right. They were out of options.
Miriam and the mountie followed as soon as they could. But they were in no rush. Ariel was right, Miriam knew that farm. Knew it well, too. And she finally had the validation to bring the hand of God down upon it.
She smiled as she contemplated just what Osmond and Ariel were going to do.
As she and her partner followed them she smiled in spite of herself at their intuition. She didn't think they'd noticed how many times they'd passed the windmill as she waited for the van to be spotted.
However, if they thought the safe house was just going to let them waltz right in, they were sadly mistaken.
"So what do you plan to do, honey? We don't know how many people may be working with Miriam. She could have an army down here in no time! We don't know what she's capable of!"
Ariel was coming undone.
And with all the tension in the van, Atlas began to squirm and flop about like a fish out of water.
Ariel tried to sooth him with her voice, and a tender touch. But as she pulled the cover back over his head, she looked into his glossy eyes, and he stared straight faced right back at her, then began crying.
Osmond pulled the van around the back of the barn, and skidded up to the door.
He paused for a moment to think.
"Can you make him quiet for a second!" he couldn't help but yell. He was losing his shit too.
Trying to find calm, she just shot him a look of anger.
Then someone knocked on the window.
Osmond jumped back and stared at a young man, large in stature, covered in dirt and grease, an all around farmhand looking guy.
He rolled down the window enough to hear what the man had to say.
The farmhand stared at him for a moment, looked off to the side as he heard the squad car peeling down the gravel road leading into the property, then back at Osmond, and lastly at the baby.
He soaked this in for a minute, then lifted his hand to the window, with two pills in his palm.
"You can't be here. There's ammunition in the seats. Take that kid to the lake and throw it in."
"What!!!" Osmond couldn't believe what he heard, where as Ariel could barely hear him, he talked so calmly.
"We'll have a better chance of saving him through the lake than through them. Eat these when they catch you." And he put his hand through the window.
Osmond took the pills, and just stared at the farm hand.
The farm hand started to look exasperated. He scrunched his face up, and almost with a snarl barked at Osmond, "Go!" then walked away from the van.
Osmond peeled off just as the cruiser pulled up behind the van.
The squad car spat up dust and gravel as it spun around, giving Miriam enough time to make eye contact with the farm hand. For a moment they stared at each other, reading each other's soul. Then something clicked in the farmhands head, and his surly demeanour changed as a smile crossed his face.
This turned Miriam furious.
She could feel her plot slipping through her fingers. But it wasn't over yet. There was no way that van could outrun the cruiser.
It wasn't long before the squad car was neck in neck with the van, speeding down the highway.
Ariel placed little Atlas inside the cooler filled with water, swaddling clothes and all.
This freed her hands so she could tear the seats apart in search of weaponry.
She had never held a gun, or would even have dreamed of it, but she'd never have dreamed she'd be running to throw her 'first born shark' into the okanagan lake!
But she found no guns.
Just grenades.
"Ozzy!" she reverted to his old nickname, "can you use these? My windows only open from the bottom!"
"Lob it over the van from the right side." he directed.
She pulled the pin and did as he said, but the grenade missed the car and exploded off the road.
"Too far!" he yelled.
"You think I don't know that!?" she retorted.
Miriam had thought there may have been fire power in the van, but never had the time to check.
Oh well, two can play that game. She pulled the shotgun out from it's holster in the faked out squad car.
"Now Chester, remember, we want that child alive."
"Livin' critter, check. Yes ma'am."
Osmond could see the lake to their right. So close, yet so far away.
Up ahead he spotted a place to turn right towards the lake, "Not too far now doll..." he stated, more to reassure himself than her.
Ariel pulled another grenade out, pulled the pin, and hurled it over the van. It exploded to the left of the cruiser, causing the driver to swerve into the van, which caused Miriam to misfire, right into the vans front carriage, but missing the engine.
Osmond just about lost control. But he managed to steady the van just long enough to make it to the turn off.
Chester saw this coming, and slowed down to bump the back of the van, trying to mess up their turn, but it was in vain.
The van made it down to the lake side, and Ariel pulled the pins of two grenades and launched them behind the van, both misses.
Miriam opened fire again, this time blowing out the back right tire.
The van skidded and flipped, all of it's passengers thrown around like rag dolls.
Osmond was hurt bad. But Ariel was worse, her arm had been crushed by the van, as it was still out the window when they flipped.
Atlas!
Osmond could hear him whimpering. He unbuckled himself, and crawled through the van, which lay on its side, and found his child, still wrapped in a hospital sheet, soaked, but not bruised.
He held Atlas tight for a second, then crawled out of the van.
Standing there waiting for him was Miriam, triumphantly holding the shotgun. She cocked it and pointed it at his head.
"It's the end of the line, Mr. Mano." that calm cool command again.
Bitch. She'd won.
"Noooooo..." Ariel croaked out from inside the van, barely conscious, barely alive.
"Never! You burn in hell! " Osmond yelled in defiance.
"You first." she responded.
But she couldn't do it. She couldn't just kill the parents. She almost started to cry, but the child was still hers. He was in her possession, and so were the parents.
Chester could hear the water.
He could hear the waves.
He could almost taste the lake, then he felt drops of water on his head...but there wasn't a cloud in the sky..
He tugged Miriams arm.
"What is it, Chester?"
He turned her around.
The lake had grown, and a tidal wave was coming from out of nowhere.
"There's no way..." She barely had time to believe her eyes before they were all enveloped by the lake.
Osmond did as best he could to hold on to his son and to the van, but the current ripped at his child, and he just didn't have the strength. Then he remembered that the whole reason they were at the lake was to deliver the baby to it... but this was just insanity.
Against all of his instincts, he kissed his son and the forehead, and let him go.
He could feel the van being pushed out of the lake immediately after he did so.
And in a moments time he was back on the land with his wife, his enemy, and her partner.
He could hear Miriam screaming, "Nooooooo! Noooooo! Goddammit! He was mine!!!"
With precious seconds of her attention paid elsewhere, he crawled over to Ariel, and recessitated her, once she had regained consciousness, he forced her to choke back a pill,
which he then took himself, right before the cuffs clinked around his hands.
Their son was gone.
And to the rest of the world, so were they.
Yet it seemed like they had been driving for twice that.
She noticed a land mark that she had seen already once before when Osmond was driving. A large windmill, with what looked to be a farm several kilometres away. She opened her window, and even through the air conditioning she could smell the lake.
It took her a moment to convince herself that she had seen that same windmill before.. And it was because last time the sky was dark. This time it was lighter out. She nudged Osmond, who snapped to alertness.
The baby woke as well, and started to squirm about.
"Miriam, where about's are we?" she inquired.
"I'm not exactly sure where the safe house is. Like I said, I grew up around here, but I've never been to the place we're supposed to be."
Something about her voice resonated with Ariel. The calm command was shaken.
Miriam wasn't telling the whole story, there's no way that she was this lost.
Osmond looked concerned too. Ariel was at least comforted that she wasn't alone in her suspicions of their 'nurse'.
Atlas grew more and more restless. Ariel lifted his mouth to her left breast, but he shirked the opportunity to feed. Sudden fear shot through Ariel. A newborn resisting the chance to feed? That's not right at all... not that Atlas was by any means conventional, but it still filled her full of dread.
Osmond grabbed her hand, and squeezed it in warning.
A squad car up ahead.
Miriam didn't seem bothered though. In fact, she seemed relieved.
"Keep him covered babe," Osmond instructed as he moved to the passenger side bucket seat.
"Don't worry, this should be nothing." Miriam eased. But her words were cold and unsettling. They'd been driving in circles far too long, and only now did any other cars show up on the deserted road, and a squad car? Bad news.
Miriam slowed to a stop as an RCMP officer stepped into the middle of the road, and walked up to her window.
"Mornin' ma'am," he spoke with a southern accent.
"You lost little lady?"
"Yes sir, we've been trying to find our family farm." She spoke with such ease and unconcern. All the shakiness in her voice evaporated.
"Well now, just whereabout' that be, sugah?"
Osmond couldn't help but wonder why in the hell a southerner would end up as a mountie in British Columbia... And parked in the middle of the road, with nothing around but a windmill in the distance behind them... He'd seen that windmill, shortly before Miriam suggested she drive.
The alarm in his head started ringing again, he could barely concentrate on what the officer was saying, he looked at his wife, and back at the windmill, then back at his wife, who's eyes began to bug out as if to say, "We're in deep shit. Do something!"
"Osmond, would you pass me that map out of the glove compartment, please?"
As if unable to control himself, he reached for the map and passed it to her, trying with all his will to hide the look of fear creeping onto his face.
"You aw'right there son?"
"Yeh...yeah...We're just having a hard time finding the place..." he stumbled over his words.
The mountie took the map, and with barely so much as a glance at it he frowned in contemplation.
"I'm afraid there's been a bit o' trouble down thar. I dunna suggest you folks head that there way jus' yet.
If'n ya like, I could guide ya's to a nearby chapel ya could hold out fer a spell."
"Oh, that would be just wonderful," Miriam obliged.
This time Osmond couldn't help his shock. He just stared at her, and she turned to him with that same calm face, "See? The lord provides."
He looked back at his wife, who just stared at him with the same look, and mouthed the word 'no'.
The mountie continued, "Aw 'right then, jus' folla me, now. It's jus' a tad up the way."
He walked back to his car, and Miriam turned her head to smile at Osmond.
Before she could form a smile, Osmond cranked her right in the face, then again. He unbuckled her seat belt, opened the door, and kicked her right out of the van.
He revved up the van and slammed it right into the back of the cruiser, turning it slightly to the side, and then rammed it again. He backed up quickly, and before the cruiser could get its engine turned on he plowed the van into the side of it and ran it right off the road.
Ariel began screaming "What the hell did you do! What are you thinking! Where are we gonna go!"
"We're going right to that farm by the windmill. We've been circling it for hours! That bitch knows EXACTLY where we were supposed to go! Why in the fuck would a canadian mountie have a southern accent and take us to the church? She's been waiting for them to show up and lead us right into their trap!"
"So what?! We're just going to show up to a safe house with a cruiser and that mad bitch on our tail?!"
"Would you rather go to that church?!"
"Aaaaaahhh!" She wailed.
But he was right. They were out of options.
Miriam and the mountie followed as soon as they could. But they were in no rush. Ariel was right, Miriam knew that farm. Knew it well, too. And she finally had the validation to bring the hand of God down upon it.
She smiled as she contemplated just what Osmond and Ariel were going to do.
As she and her partner followed them she smiled in spite of herself at their intuition. She didn't think they'd noticed how many times they'd passed the windmill as she waited for the van to be spotted.
However, if they thought the safe house was just going to let them waltz right in, they were sadly mistaken.
"So what do you plan to do, honey? We don't know how many people may be working with Miriam. She could have an army down here in no time! We don't know what she's capable of!"
Ariel was coming undone.
And with all the tension in the van, Atlas began to squirm and flop about like a fish out of water.
Ariel tried to sooth him with her voice, and a tender touch. But as she pulled the cover back over his head, she looked into his glossy eyes, and he stared straight faced right back at her, then began crying.
Osmond pulled the van around the back of the barn, and skidded up to the door.
He paused for a moment to think.
"Can you make him quiet for a second!" he couldn't help but yell. He was losing his shit too.
Trying to find calm, she just shot him a look of anger.
Then someone knocked on the window.
Osmond jumped back and stared at a young man, large in stature, covered in dirt and grease, an all around farmhand looking guy.
He rolled down the window enough to hear what the man had to say.
The farmhand stared at him for a moment, looked off to the side as he heard the squad car peeling down the gravel road leading into the property, then back at Osmond, and lastly at the baby.
He soaked this in for a minute, then lifted his hand to the window, with two pills in his palm.
"You can't be here. There's ammunition in the seats. Take that kid to the lake and throw it in."
"What!!!" Osmond couldn't believe what he heard, where as Ariel could barely hear him, he talked so calmly.
"We'll have a better chance of saving him through the lake than through them. Eat these when they catch you." And he put his hand through the window.
Osmond took the pills, and just stared at the farm hand.
The farm hand started to look exasperated. He scrunched his face up, and almost with a snarl barked at Osmond, "Go!" then walked away from the van.
Osmond peeled off just as the cruiser pulled up behind the van.
The squad car spat up dust and gravel as it spun around, giving Miriam enough time to make eye contact with the farm hand. For a moment they stared at each other, reading each other's soul. Then something clicked in the farmhands head, and his surly demeanour changed as a smile crossed his face.
This turned Miriam furious.
She could feel her plot slipping through her fingers. But it wasn't over yet. There was no way that van could outrun the cruiser.
It wasn't long before the squad car was neck in neck with the van, speeding down the highway.
Ariel placed little Atlas inside the cooler filled with water, swaddling clothes and all.
This freed her hands so she could tear the seats apart in search of weaponry.
She had never held a gun, or would even have dreamed of it, but she'd never have dreamed she'd be running to throw her 'first born shark' into the okanagan lake!
But she found no guns.
Just grenades.
"Ozzy!" she reverted to his old nickname, "can you use these? My windows only open from the bottom!"
"Lob it over the van from the right side." he directed.
She pulled the pin and did as he said, but the grenade missed the car and exploded off the road.
"Too far!" he yelled.
"You think I don't know that!?" she retorted.
Miriam had thought there may have been fire power in the van, but never had the time to check.
Oh well, two can play that game. She pulled the shotgun out from it's holster in the faked out squad car.
"Now Chester, remember, we want that child alive."
"Livin' critter, check. Yes ma'am."
Osmond could see the lake to their right. So close, yet so far away.
Up ahead he spotted a place to turn right towards the lake, "Not too far now doll..." he stated, more to reassure himself than her.
Ariel pulled another grenade out, pulled the pin, and hurled it over the van. It exploded to the left of the cruiser, causing the driver to swerve into the van, which caused Miriam to misfire, right into the vans front carriage, but missing the engine.
Osmond just about lost control. But he managed to steady the van just long enough to make it to the turn off.
Chester saw this coming, and slowed down to bump the back of the van, trying to mess up their turn, but it was in vain.
The van made it down to the lake side, and Ariel pulled the pins of two grenades and launched them behind the van, both misses.
Miriam opened fire again, this time blowing out the back right tire.
The van skidded and flipped, all of it's passengers thrown around like rag dolls.
Osmond was hurt bad. But Ariel was worse, her arm had been crushed by the van, as it was still out the window when they flipped.
Atlas!
Osmond could hear him whimpering. He unbuckled himself, and crawled through the van, which lay on its side, and found his child, still wrapped in a hospital sheet, soaked, but not bruised.
He held Atlas tight for a second, then crawled out of the van.
Standing there waiting for him was Miriam, triumphantly holding the shotgun. She cocked it and pointed it at his head.
"It's the end of the line, Mr. Mano." that calm cool command again.
Bitch. She'd won.
"Noooooo..." Ariel croaked out from inside the van, barely conscious, barely alive.
"Never! You burn in hell! " Osmond yelled in defiance.
"You first." she responded.
But she couldn't do it. She couldn't just kill the parents. She almost started to cry, but the child was still hers. He was in her possession, and so were the parents.
Chester could hear the water.
He could hear the waves.
He could almost taste the lake, then he felt drops of water on his head...but there wasn't a cloud in the sky..
He tugged Miriams arm.
"What is it, Chester?"
He turned her around.
The lake had grown, and a tidal wave was coming from out of nowhere.
"There's no way..." She barely had time to believe her eyes before they were all enveloped by the lake.
Osmond did as best he could to hold on to his son and to the van, but the current ripped at his child, and he just didn't have the strength. Then he remembered that the whole reason they were at the lake was to deliver the baby to it... but this was just insanity.
Against all of his instincts, he kissed his son and the forehead, and let him go.
He could feel the van being pushed out of the lake immediately after he did so.
And in a moments time he was back on the land with his wife, his enemy, and her partner.
He could hear Miriam screaming, "Nooooooo! Noooooo! Goddammit! He was mine!!!"
With precious seconds of her attention paid elsewhere, he crawled over to Ariel, and recessitated her, once she had regained consciousness, he forced her to choke back a pill,
which he then took himself, right before the cuffs clinked around his hands.
Their son was gone.
And to the rest of the world, so were they.
inside the van part 2
Dead highways.
Not so much as a cargo truck. Peace. Eerie, somber peace.
Somehow soothing...
As the sun set and the night began, Osmond finally began to relax, and let his mind temporarily at ease.
They were on their way to a safe house. They had a knowledgeable woman with them, and the baby had stopped crying once Ariel began to breastfeed.
But this peaceful reverie soon turned to daunting questions in the back of his mind.
Miriam was on a mission from God. That in and of itself was unsettling, but if that was so, and she worried that scientists were going to abduct and autopsy their child, why was she so willing to help them find the safe house? Were the old couple not trying to abduct Atlas and take him to the same safe house they were destined for? And what were they going to say when the old couple didn't show up, but instead the parents and an unlikely nurse came in their place?
And why did she not flinch for a moment when he told her they were being followed in the hospital?
He was about to unload some of these questions on her, but thought twice after looking through his rear view mirror at his wife.
Ariel was staring daggers into the back of Miriam's head. She had seemed untrusting of her since they parted ways with Dr. Grant. Something had passed between Dr. Grant and his wife, and an alarm went off in his head. Nothing about this woman added up.
Her willingness to help them suddenly began to seem less than charitable.
He decided not to take his eyes off her for a moment. But he had to sleep at some point, and Ariel wasn't going to drive.
After hours of driving he found himself dozing at the wheel.
When he looked up after shutting his eyes for a moment he found Miriam staring not just at him, but into him. The way one looks at a petulant child.
"Maybe I should drive for a while. After all, I have a better idea of where we're going." she invited.
It would be so easy...
So necessary.
"No, that's alright. You should rest. I'm still restless from everything. I'm still buzzing from adrenaline."
His lies were transparent. He knew it too. He could barely speak, he was so exhausted.
"I'm quite capable. You've been through enough today. You needn't worry, you're safe with me. You're in God's hands."
A few hours ago and he wouldn't have hesitated. Now just listening to her calming command was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Not to mention the unsettling use of the name God.
But he didn't really have a choice. Just by looking at her he could tell that she wasn't about to let it go.
He looked in his rear view at Ariel, who gave him a relinquishing nod. She understood the predicament, probably better than he did. So after a while he agreed.
"At the next gas station, we'll fill up and switch. Agreed?"
"Amen." was her consent.
All was as it should be at the gas station. The only unsettling business was the clerk talking to a man of about Osmond's age about the shoot out at the hospital that morning. Osmond managed to act in accordance with how he should, agreeing how much of an atrocity it was that any one could be allowed into a hospital with a gun. He chatted briefly with the two, and said he was on his way to view real estate near the Okanagan.
When the clerk and the other man looked at where he was pointing to on a map they both grew suspicious, but just commented on how poor the dwellings were in that part of the province.
"Nothing grows there, man." commented the gentleman.
"Unless your raising a swamp monster, or the Ogopogo himself!" he continued, in a mixture of warning and jest.
"Oh, well, a friend of mine told me it's affordable and perfect for development" Osmond quickly retorted.
The two at the station took this as a fool's defense, so the clerk gently chided him, "It sounds like your 'friend' is trying to take you, guy. Don't buy nothing up there. That's bat country."
"Bat country?"
"It's just bad is all. Bad place to raise a family. But if you're looking to develop, you probably ain't to keen on that anyhow, eh?"
"Right.. Well, thanks anyhow." and he walked back to the van, replaced the gas nozzle, got in the back seat with his wife, and handed Miriam the keys.
"God help us." his wife whispered in his ear. "And I don't mean her god."
He squeezed her hand tight for a moment, before passing into blessed sleep.
Not so much as a cargo truck. Peace. Eerie, somber peace.
Somehow soothing...
As the sun set and the night began, Osmond finally began to relax, and let his mind temporarily at ease.
They were on their way to a safe house. They had a knowledgeable woman with them, and the baby had stopped crying once Ariel began to breastfeed.
But this peaceful reverie soon turned to daunting questions in the back of his mind.
Miriam was on a mission from God. That in and of itself was unsettling, but if that was so, and she worried that scientists were going to abduct and autopsy their child, why was she so willing to help them find the safe house? Were the old couple not trying to abduct Atlas and take him to the same safe house they were destined for? And what were they going to say when the old couple didn't show up, but instead the parents and an unlikely nurse came in their place?
And why did she not flinch for a moment when he told her they were being followed in the hospital?
He was about to unload some of these questions on her, but thought twice after looking through his rear view mirror at his wife.
Ariel was staring daggers into the back of Miriam's head. She had seemed untrusting of her since they parted ways with Dr. Grant. Something had passed between Dr. Grant and his wife, and an alarm went off in his head. Nothing about this woman added up.
Her willingness to help them suddenly began to seem less than charitable.
He decided not to take his eyes off her for a moment. But he had to sleep at some point, and Ariel wasn't going to drive.
After hours of driving he found himself dozing at the wheel.
When he looked up after shutting his eyes for a moment he found Miriam staring not just at him, but into him. The way one looks at a petulant child.
"Maybe I should drive for a while. After all, I have a better idea of where we're going." she invited.
It would be so easy...
So necessary.
"No, that's alright. You should rest. I'm still restless from everything. I'm still buzzing from adrenaline."
His lies were transparent. He knew it too. He could barely speak, he was so exhausted.
"I'm quite capable. You've been through enough today. You needn't worry, you're safe with me. You're in God's hands."
A few hours ago and he wouldn't have hesitated. Now just listening to her calming command was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Not to mention the unsettling use of the name God.
But he didn't really have a choice. Just by looking at her he could tell that she wasn't about to let it go.
He looked in his rear view at Ariel, who gave him a relinquishing nod. She understood the predicament, probably better than he did. So after a while he agreed.
"At the next gas station, we'll fill up and switch. Agreed?"
"Amen." was her consent.
All was as it should be at the gas station. The only unsettling business was the clerk talking to a man of about Osmond's age about the shoot out at the hospital that morning. Osmond managed to act in accordance with how he should, agreeing how much of an atrocity it was that any one could be allowed into a hospital with a gun. He chatted briefly with the two, and said he was on his way to view real estate near the Okanagan.
When the clerk and the other man looked at where he was pointing to on a map they both grew suspicious, but just commented on how poor the dwellings were in that part of the province.
"Nothing grows there, man." commented the gentleman.
"Unless your raising a swamp monster, or the Ogopogo himself!" he continued, in a mixture of warning and jest.
"Oh, well, a friend of mine told me it's affordable and perfect for development" Osmond quickly retorted.
The two at the station took this as a fool's defense, so the clerk gently chided him, "It sounds like your 'friend' is trying to take you, guy. Don't buy nothing up there. That's bat country."
"Bat country?"
"It's just bad is all. Bad place to raise a family. But if you're looking to develop, you probably ain't to keen on that anyhow, eh?"
"Right.. Well, thanks anyhow." and he walked back to the van, replaced the gas nozzle, got in the back seat with his wife, and handed Miriam the keys.
"God help us." his wife whispered in his ear. "And I don't mean her god."
He squeezed her hand tight for a moment, before passing into blessed sleep.
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