Disclaimer - They aren't mine, and I'm not making any money with this. I'm just borrowing them for a bit and playing with them for a bit. I'll give them back, I promise. Please don't kill me...
[Author's note: I was privileged to have one of my valiant beta readers, Nans, up here for a visit with me recently. In the midst of all our fun, I took her to a place not far from here and showed her a place that I told her I'd *love* to have Sydney visit - but that I hadn't thought through a story in which to do it yet. I also told her again about my intent to do a Sydney/Lyle piece as soon as I finished other on-going projects. She came up with an idea that put the two ideas together - and over the course of the rest of that afternoon, evening and into the next morning, the two of us pounded out the main plot events of this story. I hope you enjoy our first collaborative work. - MMB]
White Owl
by MMB & NIOMR
Prologue
It was dark, and the road ahead was winding and narrow. Tendrils of ground-hugging fog floated across the roadbed, occasionally hiding the white strips down the center that were floating past underneath at a regular pace. On either side, darkness against darkness spoke of the density of an impenetrable forest that arched over the top of the roadway, blocking illuminating moonbeams or starlight.
The road grew narrower and narrower, and it slowly changed from painted pavement to black asphalt, then to gravel, and finally to a parallel set of worn dirt ruts through the dark underbrush. The trees on the side pressed in closer and closer, and the few glimpses of the star-studded sky above grew rarer and rarer. The ground fog swirled just a little thicker and just a little higher, until finally nothing less than two feet high could be discerned. And yet, the perception of movement persisted.
Suddenly the pressing darkness of trees began to ease, and finally the canopy of branches overhead was gone, letting the starry night sky be visible in all its glory. The ground fog lingered and swirled lazily in the openness of the secluded meadow, occasionally wafting upwards slightly where the midnight breezes would snag it and pull it into the air. All was a deafening silence - not a cricket chirped, and not a blade of grass rustled.
The soft "Hoo!" of an owl shattered the silence and brought Jarod straight up in bed, his eyes peering into the darkness of his warehouse lair as if trying to discern the shape of the threat that had managed to come so close. His heart was pounding as if he'd run a marathon, and the overpowering feeling of desperation and dread hung about his mind like the persistent ground-fog of his dream had hugged the roadway. He wiped the perspiration from his face and then rose to prowl the perimeter of his lair, checking the status of the security alarms and testing the strength of the steel bar that held the heavy warehouse door shut.
Eventually, he laid himself back against his pillows with a deep sigh - whatever danger he'd sense had been nothing but his own imagination. He should be used to this by now he chided himself ruefully. Nightmares had been his constant companions for the better part of his life - indeed, he could count on one hand the number of nights in the past few years that HADN'T been broken at least once by one. Remembering the details of the dream, he had a hard time even classifying this as a nightmare.
And yet deep and restful sleep eluded him completely for the rest of the night.
Feedback, please: mbumpus_99@hotmail.com
[Author's note: I was privileged to have one of my valiant beta readers, Nans, up here for a visit with me recently. In the midst of all our fun, I took her to a place not far from here and showed her a place that I told her I'd *love* to have Sydney visit - but that I hadn't thought through a story in which to do it yet. I also told her again about my intent to do a Sydney/Lyle piece as soon as I finished other on-going projects. She came up with an idea that put the two ideas together - and over the course of the rest of that afternoon, evening and into the next morning, the two of us pounded out the main plot events of this story. I hope you enjoy our first collaborative work. - MMB]
White Owl
by MMB & NIOMR
Prologue
It was dark, and the road ahead was winding and narrow. Tendrils of ground-hugging fog floated across the roadbed, occasionally hiding the white strips down the center that were floating past underneath at a regular pace. On either side, darkness against darkness spoke of the density of an impenetrable forest that arched over the top of the roadway, blocking illuminating moonbeams or starlight.
The road grew narrower and narrower, and it slowly changed from painted pavement to black asphalt, then to gravel, and finally to a parallel set of worn dirt ruts through the dark underbrush. The trees on the side pressed in closer and closer, and the few glimpses of the star-studded sky above grew rarer and rarer. The ground fog swirled just a little thicker and just a little higher, until finally nothing less than two feet high could be discerned. And yet, the perception of movement persisted.
Suddenly the pressing darkness of trees began to ease, and finally the canopy of branches overhead was gone, letting the starry night sky be visible in all its glory. The ground fog lingered and swirled lazily in the openness of the secluded meadow, occasionally wafting upwards slightly where the midnight breezes would snag it and pull it into the air. All was a deafening silence - not a cricket chirped, and not a blade of grass rustled.
The soft "Hoo!" of an owl shattered the silence and brought Jarod straight up in bed, his eyes peering into the darkness of his warehouse lair as if trying to discern the shape of the threat that had managed to come so close. His heart was pounding as if he'd run a marathon, and the overpowering feeling of desperation and dread hung about his mind like the persistent ground-fog of his dream had hugged the roadway. He wiped the perspiration from his face and then rose to prowl the perimeter of his lair, checking the status of the security alarms and testing the strength of the steel bar that held the heavy warehouse door shut.
Eventually, he laid himself back against his pillows with a deep sigh - whatever danger he'd sense had been nothing but his own imagination. He should be used to this by now he chided himself ruefully. Nightmares had been his constant companions for the better part of his life - indeed, he could count on one hand the number of nights in the past few years that HADN'T been broken at least once by one. Remembering the details of the dream, he had a hard time even classifying this as a nightmare.
And yet deep and restful sleep eluded him completely for the rest of the night.
Feedback, please: mbumpus_99@hotmail.com
