Andrew Jacobes hated the cold. No, he abhorred the cold. So what was he doing in the middle of nowhere, in the dead of winter, in freaking ALASKA?! He had no idea. Only a week ago he had been studying in his lab, researching an amazing artifact he had come across in the southern jungles of Africa, when out of nowhere a swarm of black-clad men burst into his home and took both him and his research, hostage. The next thing he knew, he was on a plane flying to this god-forsaken hell-hole. Andrew glanced at the man beside him, still wary of the giant, and shivered. The man looked like he could break him in half, and not even break a sweat.
"So, ummm, where are we going?" Andrew asked his voice raising an octave. He swallowed, and his voice steadied "Is it anywhere I've heard of?" He pushed his thick rimmed glasses higher up his nose with a shaking hand.
"No." The giant of a man rumbled his fingers tightening on the wheel. Andrew hoped he imagined the cracking of hard plastic, and that he was not acctually hearing the steering wheel breaking under the man's harsh grip. Andrew turned back to fiddling with his fingers, something he always did when he was nervous or unsure. Turning his gaze to the window Andrew watched as the plain white landscape flew by. Slowly he felt his eyes grow heavy and he nodded off.
"Wake up." The baritone rumble is what awoke him. He snapped up into his seat, the seatbelt nearly choking him as he came too. He looked around a little wild eyed, before he focused on the scene outside the window.
It was almost like a creepy horror movie set. Their truck was driving through a small town that was scarcely more than a few ramshackle huts covered in blankets of snow. Not one light was on. Andrew could almost feel the hostile atmosphere of the small town settle around his shoulders like the bubonic plague.
After a few torturous minutes the car slowed and finally stopped outside the only lit building in the entire town. Even inside the car, Andrew could hear the booming music and loud roars of sports fans. At least, that was what he was assuming; he'd never met any sports fans before, locked up in his lab all the time.
Andrew shivered as a rush of cold air entered the once warm car. He looked to the side to see his dark companion exit the car. With fumbling hands and frantic movements he soon followed after. With stiff jerky movement he forced his way through the knee-deep snow, stepping in the foot prints of his predecessor. Only after falling in the snow twice, tripping on the curb and stumbling into the sign that read 'Joe's Pub' (After dumping buckets of snow on him), did he finally make it to the door. Pushing into the crowded building, the two paused as the entire place fell eerily silent. Andrew offered a sheepish smile to all the bearded, fur clad men sitting at the bar.
Andrew felt a strong hand wrap around his upper arm and had to smother a girlish squeal of fright. He looked at the meaty fist and then followed the trail up to the stony face of his companion. With a jerk, the giant began forcing his way through the crown, easily ignoring all the hostile stares aimed in their direction. Andrew, on the other hand was barely containing his fears, he was shivering. In his mind he imagined any one of these burly men jumping up and beating him until he was nothing more than a puddle of goo on the floor.
Forcing his way to the bar of this run down pub was easy for Special Agent Michael James. He kept on hand locked around the arm of the pathetic excuse for a scientist. He knew that this Andrew was afraid of him, and that he was an imposing figure, a fact that he took pride in. Standing at 6'7", with a muscular frame, he all but dwarfed Andrew Jacobes. As if the small man could feel his gaze, Andrew looked up with fear in his eyes. Michael kept his face void of emotion, fighting to keep the sadistic grin off of his face. The one thing he enjoyed about his job is that he had total control over every situation, and when he didn't, he took control.
Michael turned to the man on the other side of the bar, "We're looking for information." Michael's voice rolled out low and threatening. He pulled out his badge and showed the bar tender. Michael did grin when the man became instantly uneasy, "We ain't got nothing the dang government needs..." The bar keep, a large burly looking man, shifted nervously from foot to foot. Michael's grin grew wider.
"Oh really? You're looking quite nervous for having 'nothing the dang government needs'." Michael leaned against the bar, mocking the man's accent. He ignored the fact that everyone else had stood up and were now glaring silently.
That was when the door burst open, a large ominous shadow filling its frame.
Andrew had almost fainted when his companion practically threatened the bar keep. Was the man insane? Yes, yes he was. Andrew scrambled forward as the stupid giant leaned up against he bar to antagonize the bar keep further. A movement caught his eye, and all of the blood left his face as all of the patrons stood up and glared death glares from all angles. Andrew could see the paper's now, "YOUNG SCIENTIST KILLED BY DEATH GLARE!" Andrew wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.
Andrew will forever deny it, but when the door burst open he screamed like a little girl, and he might have peed his pants a little bit. Everyone froze and stared at the figure in the doorway. The monster lifted on hand and looked like it was about to remove its giant head, when in reality it as only removing layer, upon layer, upon layer of scarves. Slowly the creature revealed it's face, all the while Andrew swore his heart would stop.
"What's with all this tension? I could cut it with my dullest butter knife." A withered voice emerged from the last scarf just as a bright head of snow white hair emerged from the top. The monster wasn't a monster at all, it, she was nothing more than a little old lady. It was an old lady with sparkling blue eyes, and a face that was a virtual roadmap of wrinkles. All at once, the entire bar let out a breath.
Margaret (Maggie) Millers drove almost an hour to get to Joe's, with the snow comin' down like there was no tomorrow, never mind the fact that her hands were killing her and, according to her doctor she shouldn't be driving, with her going blind and all. She was an 82 year old woman for crying out loud, she'd been living alone and raising her little Angel for 60 of those years! There wasn't any doctor in the world who could tell her what to do when it came to taking care of her baby girl. That and Joe's was the only place with free internet, and there wasn't no store anywhere near by that sold the size of clothes her little Angel needs. So, every few months Maggie drove down to Joe's Pub, just so she could get on that dang contraption called a computer to order her daughter some clothes!
Something was different about Joe's tonight, though. The tension was thicker than her Mama's homemade molasses. Everyone was in the bar starin' at a mean looking man and a scared little boy, what an odd picture they made. Maggie could see Billy was itchin, to reach under the bar and pull out his trusty rifle and scare off these new fella's. The little glasses wearin' man would probably faint if he even caught a glimpse of the gun, his friend though, Maggie had a feeling he wouldn't go down without a fight. Time ta break the tension.
"What's with all this tension? I could cut it with my dullest butter knife." Her deep southern twang flowed like smooth honey, and just like honey all the tension flowed outta the room. Maggie could visibly see everyone relax.
"Hello Maggie. I thought ye wouldn't be due till tu'marrah." Billy Joe's brother Mickey called out to her, startilin' quite a few folks with his loud voice and rotten breath. Maggie just laughed, and shrugged out of her last layer. She reached behind the door and pulled out her heavy wooden cane, Billy always kept it there for her, that and it made a good bat in a bar fight.
"Ya'll know my Angie, The dang girl won't stop growin'. I'm thinkin' her daddy musta been part giant." Maggie smiled when everyone chuckled along with her little joke, further draining the tension in the room. She hobbled along, saying her 'hello's' and making small talk. When she reached the bar she stopped right beside the tall man in black, offering the shy looking boy a smile and said, "Ya'll new? I don't think I've ever see you 'round here before. I'm Maggie, the town's crazy old coot. What's your name, sweetie?" She placed a wrinkled hand on the taller man's sleeve.
Andrew couldn't help but smile slightly as the old woman took control of the entire situation with only a smile. He risked a glance up at his companion, he didn't look happy. Andrew could see why, any man would be upset if he couldn't order respect and was upped by a little old lady who looked like she could be blown away with a small wind. When, Margie? Mary? Maggie? Made her way through the bar the patrons parted way, kind of like Moses and the Red Sea. Maybe she was important somehow, or more likely, it was that big cane she was using.
Andrew let out a strangled little squeak when the woman placed an innocent hand on his companion's heavily muscled arm. What was the lady thinking?! With just a flex of his arm, he could probably break every single one of her bones. The woman just smiled up at him as if she weren't staring into the face of death. Andrew couldn't help but be terrified, mostly for the old woman's health, but partially for his own. If Big, Bad and Glaring decided to use force to get rid of Maggie, they were going into be in a world of hurt. He had a feeling that everyone in the bar would pummel them. Andrew swallowed stiffly, a new line of sweat appearing on his brow.
Michael glowered down at the hand resting on his arm, he didn't like to be touched not unless he had his hand wrapped around the person's throat and they were fighting for their lives. It was his dark secret; it was what made him so good at his job…He liked pain, to feel it, to cause it, to revel in it. In his mind he was a flash of a very satisfying picture. Wrapping his hand around hers, slowly tightening until you could hear each and every bone snap, and when she was begging for mercy, to break her other hand.
He knew that his fantasy shone clearly in his eyes, and he had to stop the sadistic smile from forming on his lips when he saw her already pale skin whiten even further. "A pleasure." The smile that did form was only a shade lighter than the one that truly wanted to make an appearance. The bar tender was reaching for something behind the bar, and in a second, Michael shrugged off the offending woman's hand, reached into his jacket and pulled out his pistol. Before anyone could react, he had it leveled so it rested right between the balding man's eyes.
"Now that all the pleasantries are done and over with, where's the alien?" His eyes narrowed to dark slits and his finger tightened on the trigger. No one bothered to catch Andrew as he fainted to the floor.
Maggie blanched as she saw the monster in the darker man's eyes. This man enjoyed inflicting pain, he thrived with it, and he wouldn't think twice about killing Billy, or anyone in this bar. His words, however struck an unrelenting fear in her, though. Just as everyone knew, he was talkin' about her Angel. Her baby girl. She spared a glance for the poor boy that had fainted, but then returned her eyes to the killer in front of her.
"I'd hurry up, my hand is kind of twitchy." The man growled, and to prove his point, he moved and fired a shot right next to Billy's head. The mirror behind the bar shattered and cascaded to the floor. Out of the corner of Maggie's eyes, she saw Billy's wife standing at the entrance to the kitchen, one hand pressed to her mouth and silent sobs wracking her body. Holding her hand was Billy's 5 year old little girl, holding her beloved stuffed bear, the bear that Maggie herself had made for her.
"There ain't no alien! We ain't got no idea what yer talkin' about!" Billy's voice cracked and he was quivering worse than a chiwawa. This angered Maggie to no end, how dare this man, no, this monster threaten her home town. She was sorely tempted to take her cane and whack him upside the head, but she was afraid the gun would go off. Instead he used the hook at the top of her cane to hook around the man's wrist, she tugged at it, his arm didn't move an inch.
"These folks don't know what you're talkin' about, boyo. You want to find your alien," Maggie spat the word, it tasted absolutely foul on her tongue, that was her baby girl, and she hated using that word to describe her. "Then you should pay more attention to who you're threatening. Pick up your friend and follow me." She glared right back at the intimidating man, and without another word turned and walked to the entrance, struggled into her multiple layers and walked out the door.