Knock On Wood
Eheh...yeah. scratches the back of her neck thoughtfully Yay! A review from Skylark! Er...uh...yay. I'm out of interesting things to say. As always, by bitterly mulched replies are posted at the bottom.
Klox: And how.
-------------------
Chapter Six: Outcast
The wind tore at the shutters of a window, causing it to clatter in a fine-tuned symphony of the recklessly abandoned village. Dust swirled around the road, clouding and dispersing on the faded, white walls of the surrounding houses, while no voices, no sounds or even familiar smells greeted the senses of the returning Drifters.
Virginia led her mount into a slow walk. Her gaze did not linger for long in one spot as she busily scanned the terrain of her former hometown. The wind howled through the stovepipes on the rooftops, adding the occasional effect to the banging shutters and filthy atmosphere. She didn't speak for a long time, but instead sat astride her white mare and stared in melancholy disbelief.
Jet rode in silence beside her. He glanced at her from time to time, as if to make sure she hadn't fallen off her horse, but chose to keep his sarcastic comments to himself.
Not that he had anything to say. He was almost as shocked and dismayed as she, which confused him ever more. That confusion led his mind astray, to a particular moment a long time ago, but in a hurried state of self-discipline he dismissed those thoughts and clenched his teeth shut.
All signs of life had been erased from the exterior of the town. There were no footprints, trampled grass orlaundry hung out to dry, let alone a resident following out his daily business. While the air was warm and dry, there was no aroma of brewing dinners that normally wafted the settlement at this time of day. It was all barren, vacant, quiet and filthy.
Their horse's hooves left hollows sounds on the packed dirt, ceasing when they were drawn to a gradual halt. Virginia inhaled sharply before dismounting her mare, quietly tucking the reins behind the left stirrup to both prevent her horse running away at a full gallop should she spook, and for easy access when she needed them again. Jet followed suit, although his actions were noticeably lacking the remorseful insight that she bore.
"I...don't understand," she said, walking stiffly towards the dried out well in the midst of the town. "Why would everyone leave...where would they go? What happened here!?"
Jet's eyes widened with her loud outcry. He seemed to freeze in one spot, his nerves completely overshot and numb. He didn't know why, or even how this feeling existed within him, but it felt horrible...like he wanted to help her, but a much more powerful and annoying force kept him still.
Virginia collapsed on the crumbling well wall, not feeling at all well enough to cry or show her feelings. Instead, she shook her head and folded her trembling arms across her stomach. "Uncle Tesla, Aunt Shalte, everyone...how did this happen?"
"Hey, Vir-" Jet cut himself short, and sighed. "Ginny, shouldn't we at least check the place out? I dunno, maybe someone stayed behind, or..." His voice trailed away. Great, now he felt like an idiot. "Never mind."
She lifted her head to look at him, cautiously, if not with a certain amount of curiousity. "Jet?" she wondered allowed.
"What?" he snapped back, perhaps a little too harshly.
She didn't mind. The harshness she was used to, but the optimistic, encouraging Jet that had peeked through his impassive exterior was an unusual (however welcome) side to him that made her feel...consoled? Comforted? Solaced?
"Um..." Taking a shaky breath, she shook her head. "Nothing, I'm sorry. You're right...let's look around a bit and see what we find."
He shrugged. "Whatever," he almost muttered. "I'll take over there," he added, gesturing towards the houses near the southern end of the settlement..
Virginia composed herself, drawing her strength from a foreign reserve somewhere in the most coveted place in her heart. "Okay, I'll look around the entrance. If we find anyone...anything...we'll meet back here at the well. Does that sound good?"
"Whatever..."
Obviously that was the best response she was going to get from him, but it did reassure her that he was in agreement and wouldn't slack off the job. She nodded firmly before standing up and setting a unbreakable pace towards the front of the vacant town. No matter how unnerving, jittery, or indecent it seemed to be prying into the depths of his shrouded mind, it was necessary. It was necessary, because...
She stopped short, shaking her head free of those nagging thoughts. This was her hometown! She had to search for stragglers, survivors, and a single resident, anything...now was not the time to be wallowing in feelings she didn't even understand.
There was nothing outside of the houses. Nothing could be seen around the buildings, in the cellars, beneath the rock foundations or in the sheds. When she had fully scoured everywhere but inside of the buildings, she found herself lingering just in front of the door that belonged to Jeff, her long-time and separated friend. All she had to do now was open that door and face whatever lay inside.
She knew very well what she was expecting. What she expected in her heart was the worst possible scenario...perhaps bones, perhaps dried blood or bullets embedded in the walls and furniture. Just like the horror novels she read when she was little...when the lonely traveler returned home one evening to find their family murdered and their village burnt to the ground...
But her village was not burnt. And she was not the lonely traveler in those stories. For one, she was not alone...she had Jet, Gallows and Clive. They were her teammates and her friends. And secondly, she was not just a fictional character bound in the papery world of a novel. She was a Drifter, and she would fold her wings tightly to her body and bravely step forward into the worst of all situations.
Gently, her hand closed around the handle to the door. She turned it, both relieved and dismayed to find that it was not locked. With one fell motion, she swung the door open and stepped inside.
There were no bullets. No blood, no bodies or bones. No signs of a struggle or any evidence that the residents had been removed forcibly. There was nothing that even suggested that they had lived here at all. Everything was gone – the pictures on the walls, the flowers in the vases, the vases themselves, the books, the blankets and couch covers and all forms of ornamentation. There was no note, no clue that she could see that would have given her an idea as to where they went.
Slowly, she advanced a few steps. When nothing happened, she strode across the room and peered into the adjoining bedroom at the far end. Simply nothing, except for the mattress on the bed and empty shelves. Dust covered everything in thick layers. Her feet left trails in the filth on the floor, stirring up clouds of it that itched her nose. It was warm, dry and stagnant. No one had lived here for years, it seemed.
Virginia retraced her steps towards the door again and emerged into the warm sunlight. There had been no true horror to her overly active imagination, but the results still invoked trouble in her mind. If no one remained behind, and everything was gone...had something happened to drive them away?
She held her sleeve to her forehead, wiping away some of the perspiration that had gathered there. As she neared the entrance to the town, she turned around and gazed with solemn anticipation at what remained of her hometown. There was nothing left, nothing that she could relate to her old home, at least. She wondered what Jet had found, if he'd found anything at all...
She stifled a scream when someone placed a hand on her shoulder. Automatically, she grasped the handles to her ARMs and spun about to face her opponent...
...and exhaled her relief. She released her weapons and lowered her arms to her sides. "Clive...you scared me half to death!" she scolded angrily, although it was clear she was happy to see him.
The green-haired sniper half-grinned his apology, reaching behind his head to scratch his neck. "Ah, please forgive me for startling you. Is everything all right? I saw you standing here from a distance and assumed you were in danger."
"No, it's fine..." Virginia lowered her voice suddenly, as if she had just remembered that nothing was 'fine'. "Everything...is just fine."
Clive didn't feel obligated to believe her, knowing full well what that expression she wore and her posture meant. "Where is Jet?" he asked suddenly.
Virginia lifted her head, glancing over her shoulder for a moment. "Oh, Jet...he's-" She stopped herself as she realized something important. If Clive was here, and it had only been minutes since she had arrived herself, then he must have used the Teleport Orb. Which meant..."Gallows! Clive...you...where's-"
"Aunt Virginia!"
Virginia was hardly able to move before a storm hit her dead on. Suddenly, there was a widely grinning, clinging, happy thirteen-year-old squeezing the life out of her lungs. Virginia gasped in surprise and tried to lift her arms to return the hug, but she found they were pinned tightly to her sides.
When Kaitlyn pulled away, she was completely aglow. And boy, had she changed since the last time anyone had seen her.
What Virginia saw was not the cutely dressed, well-behaved eight-year-old girl she'd been acquainted with before. Instead, there stood a very young lady with her golden-brown locks tied back in the fashion of a ponytail. Her blue ribbons were there, but they were strung so that they interwove with her hair. She did not wear a dress, but a baggy, red-and-brown outfit. Over her shoulders was draped a short, tan jacket with red trimming and tassels at the belted cuffs. She wore a white blouse beneath the jacket with a much lighter, tight-fitting maroon garment beneath that. There was a strap over her front, which wrapped around so that her holster for her ARM was attached to the back. Her pants were nothing but simple, brown breeches littered with a belt that held her extra ammunition. There were six straps on each of her boots, buckled in a criss-cross fashion until the leather encasing stopped below her knees. Her skin was not as bronze as one would expect, however, but nearly as pale as her fathers'. Apparently, Clive's inability to burn or tan was genetic.
Virginia remained at a loss for words, but Gallows was quick to steal her chance at responding. He appeared at the gate, waving a greeting and hollered, "She's a grown-up lady now, full of spunk and ready for action!" Immediately, he caught Clive's apprehensive glare and flinched. "I mean…uh, she sure got big, didn't she?"
Virginia blinked and smiled, despite her current worries. "Kaitlyn…?" she said with a short laugh. "Is that really you? You look so much…well…"
"Older?" the teenager offered. "So do you! I think I see gray hairs, right about…there." She demonstrated with her index finger, pointing to a spot above Virginia's brow.
"Kaitlyn," Clive warned with an amused tone.
Gallows was now grinning like a madman and jumped at his chance to make a comment. "Clive has some too, Katie," he said mischievously, messing up the sniper's hair with one his large hands. "Hey Clive, why didn't you tell us you were getting so old?"
Clive's face flushed, either with temper or embarrassment, or both. "You are nearly the age I was five years ago," he pointed out, calmly flattening his hair again. Then his voice gained a seriousness that quelled the light-hearted feeling of the reunion. "I am more concerned about the condition of our surroundings. It's strange to see an unoccupied town, especially when water reserves are almost nonexistent outside settlements."
A pang of discomfort shot through Virginia's chest. Her joyful bearing faded in a near instant, replaced with a solemn uncertainty. "I don't know what happened," she said truthfully. "I've looked and looked…but no one's left. They took everything, too…"
"They packed up and moved away?" questioned Gallows. "That just doesn't seem right. You would think someone would run away from something they're afraid of. Either that, or the water supply is gone…"
Virginia shook her head. "No…the well dried up, but Jet and I just drank from the reservoir a few hours ago. That was our emergency resource for water, the reservoir…but no one was there."
"Where is Uncle Jet?" Kaitlyn wanted to know. Her pet name for Jet hadn't come easily, especially in Jet's case, but Clive's daughter was dead set on considering each one of them as an aunt or uncle.
Gallows looked around, evidently noticing for the first time that Jet was gone. "I knew someone was missing…usually that guy's so quiet we never notice him."
"Jet's searching the other end of town," Virginia explained quietly. "We split up to look for anyone who might have stayed behind…or a survivor…"
"Should we go help him?" said Gallows.
"It may be dangerous," Clive pointed out, looking straight at Kaitlyn as he spoke. "The cause of Boot Hill's desertion may linger here. Whether it is an unfriendly creature, thieves or noxious disease, we are all imperiled by staying here."
"Clive's right," said Virginia. "After we find Jet, I think it's best we head back to Humphrey's Peak. After all, Bell will want to know if Kaitlyn's safe, and if Clive…"
Clive noticed the reason why the female Drifter had left her sentence unfinished. He shook his head in response. "Thank you for being concerned," he said plainly. "However I do not wish to leave Kaitlyn so soon. Humphrey's Peak is no longer a safe haven from the Ark now that it governed by commercial means."
Gallows face grew thoughtful, to everyone's mild surprise. The Baskar held his hands out at his side as he made his suggestion. "Why not leave her with Shane? Without Granny around, he'll need someone to nag at him."
"Excuse me," said Kaitlyn, a little loudly but still with all proper politeness. "In case anyone was wondering, I'm still here. And I'm not letting Daddy go away again! Not until we find Mommy, and we all move back home and everything is the way it should be!"
There was a difficult silence after that. For a long minute, everyone seemed to look at each other and avoid eye contact, no one approaching the young girl's vigorous, astonishingly hopeful claims.
At last, Clive shattered the hushed cloud over their heads. "Kaitlyn, you are still very young to be a Drifter. I do not doubt your skills as one, but your wings are not completely grown in to take flight in the wastelands. Please understand…"
Kaitlyn stood as rigid as a boulder, staring at her father as if he'd insulted her with every swear word created in the history of Filgaia. She had opened her jaw to say something, but she closed it quietly. Then she drew a sharp breath and looked away. "Are you saying that as my Daddy…or a Drifter?"
Another awkward pause. Virginia spoke up next. "Kaitlyn, Clive doesn't mean you're a burden! I think he's-"
"I don't care," said the girl, cutting her off. "I just don't! I'm going to find Uncle Jet! I don't need you to tell me I can't fight!" Before anyone could stop her, she took off towards the far end of town at an incredibly brisk speed.
"Kaitlyn!" Clive called after her, stepping forward. His face was twisted with both guilt and (naturally) fatherly concern. Why had he said that at all? He knew very well what she was capable of, although he still worried…
"Don't worry, Clive," said Gallows, scratching the back of his neck. "She's still the little Kaitlyn we knew, but she's got a mind of her own now. Trust me, it's not worth taking personally."
"That's right," agreed Virginia, trying her best to be on the bright side of things. "Kaitlyn's a teenager now. In fact, she's really like me when I started out, when I thought everything could be sorted out with trust, and justice…"
Clive looked down and subconsciously adjusted his glasses as they slid forward. "How will I manage to keep her safe? While with Catherine, the residents of Humphrey's Peak would watch over her during my absence. I am the only one remaining that can look after her."
"What are you talking about?" said Gallows, slapping the sniper none too roughly on the back. "We're here to look after her, too! Or did you forget?"
"Let's find Jet," said Virginia, abruptly changing the subject at hand. "We'll all talk to Kaitlyn after we've settled down and decided where we're heading next."
"Of course," came Clive's response. "I am grateful, both of you. I somehow imagined that asking for help with Kaitlyn would be unsuitable…under the circumstances."
"That's silly!" Virginia was quick to point out. "We know how much she means to you, Clive. What are friends for, anyway?"
"Agh, I keep feeling that something's wrong," said Gallows. He was staring at the largest house at the far side of town, which had been previously occupied by Virginia's aunt and uncle. "C'mon, guys, let's find that sulky punk before he gets his pretty head shaved."
Virginia raced after Gallows, checking behind her shoulder to make sure Clive was with them. The green-haired sniper ran alongside her with a fixed expression of concentration on his face. Whether he was worried about Kaitlyn, or he was simply preparing himself for a possible encounter with trouble, his mental state was as solid as the dragon fossils that constructed his ARM.
Virginia's house loomed just before them. Automatically assumed to taking the lead, she leapt onto the porch just ahead of Gallows. She knew this was where the Guardian's fear was emanating from, for the feeling the Baskar had expressed moments ago was beginning to spread. Jet was inside her house, and something bad had happened to him to make the Guardians call out like that.
"You know how it goes," she half-whispered to the two males behind her. "Should…anything happen, you have to rescue Jet first."
Both Gallows and Clive nodded, accustomed to the drill they had constructed together as a team. Satisfied with their answers, Virginia turned the knob on the door and stepped into the dim room beyond.
The first thing she saw was the last thing she expected to see. At first, she had to blink and shake her head to make sure that the scene was real. It did not change.
A huddled figure -- a little girl -- sat crouched in the corner of the kitchen. She was staring at Virginia with wide, frightened eyes and soundless to the point of sheer tranquility. With a sudden surge of shock and pity, Virginia darted towards her without stopping to think twice about her situation.
"Stop right there."
Her head shot up, along with her torso. When she turned to face the other end of the kitchen, she came to face Jet. The silver-haired Drifter was looking sullen and somewhat irritated, and looking past his motionless frame, Virginia discovered why.
Attached to the barrel hovering inches from the back of Jet's head was a gun, and attached to that gun was a hand that was in turn attached to an arm attached to a middle-aged, female Drifter with a grave expression.
"Unarm yourself," said the woman, tediously brushing a lock of black hair from her face. "Unless you want me to give your Drifter friend here a sixth hole in his head."
----------------------
Quack. I think it's picking up, don't you? Anyway, cliffy. You'll be very acquainted with cliffies in the chapters to come, don't worry. As for the reviews…
Ah, BW0, you will simply have to wait…I'm glad you're still enjoying it. And your bones tell the truth. This fic will get much darker, even sadder, soon……and Teefa, yes…it's a cutey wooty dragon puppy! He's so adorable! giggles Well, you'll see soon enough. And Hana no Kaze, you flatter me! It's nice to hear a compliment about my writing, though…'tis kind of you. I'm glad you like my song, too. Anywayz, ah, Skylark! Nice ta finally (er, sort of) officially meet you. You are goddess of all Clive fics. I bow down to you…er, actually I hope you don't mind if I don't. Really bad back. Anyway, let's see…story summary…check. Review replies…check. Merciless groveling…check. All rightzy, see ya next chapter.
(later on that day…)
Klox: Sixth hole in his head? That was beyond lame…
Yachi: Do you want to write it? HERE! whips the keyboard at him
Klox: gets bonked …..wheee….pretty birdies…..