Austin came into the research lab where he found Dez and Jimmy. He glanced at both of them. "Do you have anything?" he questioned, curiously and hopefully. Jimmy sighed, taking a seat. Dez shook his head as he looked at Austin.
"No, I'm sorry. There haven't been messages or threats." Dez responded, "this terrorist attack could happen at any given moment."
"It's been three weeks since the last message, right?" Austin clarified. Jimmy and Dez nodded. "Maybe she changed her mind?"
"Doubt that," Trish added as she set two coffee on the table, one for Austin and one for Jimmy.
Austin shook his head, "I can't drink right now," he told her. His stomach was in knots. He was concerned for the world's safety, his families and friends safety, and mildly his own safety. He moved the cup towards Dez. Dez wasn't hesitant to take the coffee.
"But maybe we're wrong," Austin voiced out after a long pregnant moment. "Maybe she's not going to attack...maybe she decided against it?" Austin sighed, a piece of him knowing his curiosity and wondering was all wishful thinking.
Jimmy sipped on his coffee, "Or maybe she loves surprises."
. . . .
"I'm busy!" Ally bellowed from the next room, glaring at the door where there was obnoxious knocking.
The visitor didn't hesitate to walk in now. Ally sighed and looked at the man in annoyance. "Ally, you've been cooped up in here all day."
"Ronnie, I need my space," Ally ground out, stomping her foot childishly. Mr. Romone sighed as he looked at the girl who he treated as his own daughter.
"Ally Dawson, what are you even doing?" he questioned. The place was wickedly clean. She normally had papers scattered everywhere - she was a writer.
She smiled at him, but the smile was tight. "Well, I don't plan to leave my place with a mess. When I get back I doubt I'll want to clean." Ronnie couldn't help the chuckle that left his lips. Ally stared at his figure that looked uneasy. "Is there something wrong?"
"No, Well, yes, I mean no," he stammered.
"Ronnie," Ally bit out at him.
"Everyone wants to know when." Ronnie finally spilled. That was all he needed to say for Ally to know what he meant. Ally rolled her eyes and threw herself down on the couch.
"When I'm ready, I don't know!" she said, aggravated. "Why can't they leave me alone? I'm supposed to destroy the world, can I at least have some time to myself?" Ronnie sighed. Then Ally sat up slowly. "Plus...Why would they want me to hurry? Do they really think they're spared?"
Ronnie looked at Ally with semi-larger eyes. Had he heard her right? "Pardon?"
"Oh, come on, Ron." Ally let her lips curl with a smile, "They want me to defeat the entire human race - What makes them so special?"
Ronnie felt his heart flip flop in his chest. They hadn't thought that through. He knew Ally was much stronger than anyone in the world, if she had a plan of her own, she would use it without a doubt. "Right," he whispered. "That means me?"
"Would it be fair if I spared you and nobody else? No." Ally replied, but she didn't like the way the words sounded on her tongue. She loved Ronnie, to an extent of course. He was still the man that let The Board get away with what they were doing with her.
Ronnie nodded slowly. "I...I agree." He didn't really.
Ally hated what The Board made her out to be - a villain. It was only two years ago that she was a small, fragile girl who was heartbroken, sitting by herself in quarantine, unsure of what to think of herself; now they've turned her into their own puppet to do the inevitable.
"The Board just wants to know when it'll begin," Ronnie voiced. Ally shook her head, smiling softly at the man.
"It's a surprise," she said, smugly. Ronnie half-smiled and nodded. He made his way towards the door before hearing her gently call after him, "Ronnie?" He turned back to look at the young girl. He was surprised when he saw her eyes were big, wide, and vulnerable. "I don't want to." she whispered. There was Ally. That was the real her. Scared, anxious, and afraid. Ally Dawson was not evil; she just gets scared.
He felt turmoil churn in his gut as he replied, "You have to." He opened the door and then left her room. Ally let her eyes drop and she stared at the ground.
. . . .
More time had managed to pass by and still, as far as they all knew, Ally Dawson had made no attempts on her attack yet. How stressful was the anticipating for Mister Austin Moon.
"3 Weeks and 8 Days and we've still got nothing," Austin groaned, scrubbing his fingers through his hair aggressively, giving himself a tousled look. Trish rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.
"I know you're stressed but you need to start sleeping," Trish told him, her voice soft and soothing.
"Easy for you to say, you make coffee for a living!" he snapped. Trish dropped her soothing attitude and rolled her eyes at me.
"All for you! And it pays the bills," she barked back.
"Actually I do that!" Dez calls out from the other room where he sat on his lap top. Austin gave Trish a look and she rolled her eyes again.
"Can you just listen to me for once?" she questioned, "You need to sleep. If you don't, she'll show up and you'll just plummet to the ground, weak and tired and we'll all die and it will be all your fault!" she smacked the back of his head with her palm.
Austin growled, "That's supposed to motivate me?"
"Yeah, call them my words of wisdom." Trish said. "Did it work?"
Austin was silent for a moment, before scrunching his nose and looking at her, "Actually yes, it did." Trish grinned proudly. "I'm going to go catch some shut-eye."
"Good. We'll wake you if the world start's ending any time soon." Trish told him. Austin was already half way to the guest room when he nodded and 'peaced' out. Trish heard the door shut and she wandered towards her red-headed boyfriend.
"Are you scared?" asked Dez, looking at his Latina girlfriend. Trish looked at him.
"Who isn't?" she replied softly. He nodded in agreement. Trish sat down across from him, sipping some tea. "Do you think Austin will be okay?"
Dez glanced at Trish. He didn't know what to say because he honestly didn't know. "I hope so," he said sighing. He typed into his computer before slamming his fist down onto the keyboard. "Ugh," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. "A message would be nice!" he barked at the inanimate object. Trish touched his hand comfortingly.
Meanwhile, in the guest room, Austin lay on the bed wide awake. There was no way he was going to sleep. He heard everything that Trish and Dez were discussing. He sighed. He knew his friends and co-workers were upset and worried just as much as he was.
Finally realizing that sleep was of no avail, Austin sat up. He looked around the room before seeing a folder on the table. He walked towards the small table and picked up the folder.
It was Ruby Leimere. One of the many people who had sprouted a supernatural ability over the couple years. Her ability was Mind Manipulation. She could manipulate what anybody was thinking. She was a good person. She didn't use it often and when she did, it was for good purposes. One time she stopped a bank robbery. Austin took a deep breath, scrubbing his fingers through his hair again and tugging on his blonde locks. He's seen the new abilities that these people have suddenly been given - some more vile than others and this Ally Dawson was told to be the most dangerous of all of them. What could she do?
How did this even happen? How do humans just...sprout heroic abilities? Austin threw the file back on the table and drowned out his thoughts with his very own humming. Singing calmed him a lot so he hummed his favourite tune, one that his mother used to sing to him when he was a child before she passed away.
Soon enough, Austin drifted into a calming slumber. One that made up for all of his lost sleep of the last few weeks.
Back in the office building, Jimmy was running through old files. Suddenly the TV flickered on. Jimmy looked over, "Thomas, What's going on?"
The man gestured to the news. The news anchor was smiling at the camera, standing alongside a desert that now suddenly had flowing water. She shared her report about a young woman suddenly gifting the desert with water.
"That desert hasn't had water for years," another man said who was also watching the news with Jimmy and Thomas. There was now a crowd gathered around the television. They were all murmuring to one another, trying to make out what was happening.
"I thought this was a terrorist attack," another worker voiced out, "Not helping the environment!"
"Well, It was definitely her," Thomas finally let out, sending his boss a pointed look.
Jimmy's brows were furrowed together as he nodded, watching the TV. "I know that," he responded, confusion sketched thoughtfully on his dark features. "But what is she doing?" Nobody replied this time.
. . . .
It was the next morning when Trish shrieked, "Austin! Dezmond! Get out here!"
Austin was alarmed as he came barreling out of his room. "Is it now? What's happening?" he was frantic. He stood next to Dez as Trish shook her head.
She turned up the volume on the TV. "No. Look."
"It's raining in Kenya," Austin spoke slowly.
"Kenya has been in drought for the last year and a half!" Trish said, looking at the two boys. "There was no weather prediction about rain, heck, especially not pouring rain!"
"You think it was her?" Dez questioned, gnawing on the inside of his cheek.
"I know it was her," Trish replied. Austin stood back, more confused than he's ever been in his entire life.
"She's helping the world?" Austin let out, dumbly. "But why?" Trish shook her head, shrugging. "This is it. Get Ready." Austin recited the message from a few weeks back. "Get Ready? For what? Helping the freaking environment!?"
"No," Dez said softly, "I know what she's doing."
Trish and Austin looked at the logical boy. "What?" they chorused together, noticing the look of seriousness on his face.
"She's playing us."
. . . .
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" shouted George angrily. Ally was sitting on her counter top, swinging her legs back in forth as she nibbled on her yogurt.
"This yogurt is delicious," she moaned, smiling over at George.
"Giving water to the desert! Dropping pouring rain all over Kenya!" he continued, "This is a terrorist attack, not global warming!"
Ally waved her hand in dismissal. "Oh, George. You're too tense."
"Is this a game to you?" George inquired angrily. Ally jumped down from the counter top, landing on her bare feet as she walked towards him with light steps.
"Yes, George, Yes it is," she replied, "And I make the rules. You're just a pawn on my game board."
George tried not to let her words give him fear. "You're treating the world with happiness! That's not what you were made to do."
"I know," she said, matter-of-factly. "I've got everything under control, George. Just watch the way I play and one day you'll be at the top of my scoreboard." George frowned.
"Is that a challenge?" he questioned. He listened to the sound of her sour giggle. "Ally," he let out, "You're acting different."
"Am I?" she questioned, circling him as she continued eating her small container of yogurt.
"Ally, you never challenge me. Not even an attempt. You're treating me like I'm a child, I don't like it." George glowered.
"Yeah, Well, I'm the end of the world and you were stupid to ever think that you would live happily telling me how to play my game," Ally whispered sickly. George frowned at her. With one sharp look of Ally Dawson's beautiful eyes, George was doubling over clutching at his chest and gasping.
"What...What are you doing?" he could barely get the words out. Ally just stared at the hopeless man in front of her, who was falling to the ground helplessly.
"Did you possibly think that you could ever defeat me if I got out of control?" Ally wondered out loud. She listened the man gasp and cough, moan and groan until finally he fell to the ground limply as he panted, grabbing a lungful of air. "That's what I thought," she whispered. "I'm the end of the world, I decide when I want to play."
George couldn't move. He still needed to recover from his near-death experience. Ally slowly walked towards him. She leaned forward, getting closer to him as she said softly and lethally, "And we start now."
. . . .
A young woman sat at her desk, typing into her computer. "I will make sure to contact you when I am sure that I've found her," the secretary tells the head boss, Mr. Starr. Remember, look for an Ally Dawson. She chants to herself, remembering that the building relies on her for now.
She hangs up the phone and helps a customer, keeping her eyes on the lookout. She sends the customer on their way and suddenly gets distracted when a young, beautiful girl in a pink dress walks towards her with a dazzling, sweet smile. "Hello," she greets thoughtfully.
"Hi," her voice is soft and sweet. The secretary is fooled immediately. "I have an appointment with Mr. Jimmy Starr." The girl leans forward on the desk, her palm cupping her chin as her elbow rests on the desk.
"Of course, Sweetie," the woman responds. "You can go right on up," she grins. She doesn't know why but she suddenly blurts out due to a gut feeling, "Can I have your name?"
She's not even hesitant as her eyes blaze and her smile twists wider. She reaches out her arm and shakes the secretaries hand. "Ally Dawson."
The name echoes in the secretary's mind as she forces herself not to let go of the grin on her lips. She nods her head and watches Ally walk away. Quickly, she grabs the phone and her fingers punch in numerous buttons. "Mr. Starr?" she nods once, "She's here."