Chapter Six
Remaining Calm
Part One
The only way Marguerite was aware that she was dreaming was by the way the sun rose from the West and settled to bed in the East. In North America the rise and fall of the sun was opposite: even on the mysterious plateau the sun followed that basic rule. She didn't know how she picked up on the trivial detail, but it disturbed her and left her wondering what her night terrors had in store for her this time.
A gust of bitter wind swept past her and she peered out over the railing to gaze blankly at the extending forest. Not a patient woman by nature, she was unnaturally subdued as if she had all the time in the world to take her next breath. Maybe it was the realization that she was dreaming and nothing could physically harm that had her properly poised and eerily calm by the ordeal.
She sensed It enter her imaginary realm, but this time she grasped onto her control despite the yearning to flee. It can't hurt you here. I am safe. With this optimistic and brave idea, she made her way out of the tree house and into the dusky evening without the hassle of grapping weapons and ammunition. Furthermore, she was clad in only her nightwear, but this, too, meant nothing to her as she stepped farther into the woods.
The only way to face your enemy is head on, she reasoned with herself.
Part Two
In the early morning light, Roxton slowly forced open his weary eyes. He lay there listening to the birds chattering outside and wondered what woke him. He had barely slept a wink after finally putting Marguerite to bed. He was exhausted and was sure he would sleep through the Second Coming, but something had arouse him from his deep slumber; something that was nagging on him to get up.
Groaning, he rolled out of bed and snapped his suspenders into place. Rubbing his hands over his face he concluded that he was past due for a shave. With a heavy sigh, he stumbled out of his room in hopes of finding coffee all ready made, but knowing there was no such luck. It was hardly five AM. Unless Marguerite's gotten up. Stranger things have happened.
Thinking of Marguerite, he tapped lightly on her door as he passed by. Not getting a response – or expecting one this early in the day – he poked his head in. Her bed was rumbled and her blouse and skirt were draped on the chair: her boots beside it. The only thing missing was its occupant.
Roxton tore through the tree house. "Challenger!" He ran out onto the balcony. "Veronica!" He rushed down the stairs. "Malone!" Descending to the lab, he rummaged through the lower floor without success.
Challenger, with the other two at his heels, bounded down the stairs, his hair wild and his eyes panicked. "What is it Roxton?" His rifle was gripped in his hands, but seeing no danger, he lowered his weapon. "What's the matter here, old boy?"
Roxton searched the faces of his three friends. "Marguerite is gone."
End Chapter Five
Once again, I know it is short, but I'm trying. Thank you for the reviews. I'll try and get this story wrapped up throughout this week. I hope to have it finished by next Sunday (July 20th).
