It had been only an two hours and eleven minutes and Brium was already at Red Feather Lakes, sitting in one of the forests far enough away from the lakes themselves as to not draw attention from the tourists that seemed drawn to the area.
Then again, he was drawn to them as well and he was a tourist of sorts. It was all rather funny how things worked out.
He wished he could be out enjoying life at a lake, but it just wasn't to be.
Not now; not yet.
But maybe someday.
He quietly sat now deep in the surrounding forest with bird calls washing over him. It was nearly five o'clock and the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. The shafts of orange light it cast through the immense green of the forest was astoundingly beautiful. It was perhaps on the top ten list for most beautiful places Brium had ever been.
And he hadn't even come for the sights.
The black shotgun lay beside him on his right; he had purchased it at sporting goods store not an hour ago. It was a Mossberg twelve gauge pump action shotgun that held eight crimson shells in its underbelly tube, plus one more in the chamber. Brium had fully loaded it with nine buckshot shells from the box of twenty he had bought to go along with the weapon.
The twin curved machetes sat unsheathed on his left side; they had been purchased at a different sporting goods store.
They were short enough to be used quite well in a duel wield fashion.
Brium had certainly needed his ID to buy all of the above items.
In front of him, the red miniature cooler filled with ice and a single twenty ounce bottle of PowerAid sat sealed and ready for its purpose. And it did have a purpose besides chilling his drink.
He hadn't needed an ID to buy the cooler.
He also had a box of medical gauze, a needle and thread and duct tape. It would probably all be needed soon enough.
All in all, Brium had spent over six hundred and fifty dollars in four different stores for the stuff he had now. It was money well spent.
He would need all of it; every single item.
Brium moved slightly to make himself more comfortable against the large fir tree he was leaning on. Only about forty-five minutes before Jeb and his crew of Erasers got here. He let out a breath and decided it was time to prep everything. It was going to be one hell of a show.
He was already at the location he had picked; it had less trees and wider clearings then most other spots around; he'd need that soon enough.
Brium started by concealing his backpack, the machete sheaths, the box of medical stuff and duct tape and the cooler in a bush near one of the bigger trees; it was all effectively hidden. Next, he pulled his jacket off and put his sweatshirt on. Both were black, so he imagined he didn't appear all that different. But it was easier to move in the sweatshirt, definitely. He concealed his jacket as well. He made sure his wings were folded comfortably under the sweatshirt. He would need them to stay out of the way. Next, he checked his pockets to make sure all he had put there was were he wanted it. It was almost pointless, because he knew it was, but one just can't be too careful.
Good, he thought. His pistol was in his right hip pocket, its three extra magazines in his left. His Harpy knife was in his right thigh pocket, and five extra shotgun shells in the right (the rest were in his backpack. He doubted he would need them).
Next came the hardest part.
Brium took the shotgun, picked a place and began burying it under the fallen pine needles and leaves. He dug a gap under the middle of the weapon where his foot would fit; when he was done, it just looked like a small pothole.
Concealing the shotgun took nearly fifteen minutes, but it had to be done right or the desired effect wouldn't be achieved; Brium was quite satisfied with how it turned out. At a glance there was nothing there; a better look and it was only fallen pine needles, a few leaves and dirt.
Brium knew the pump action shotgun couldn't be jammed by such things and he gave it no second thought.
Next, he buried one of the curved machetes a few feet from the similarly buried shotgun. It was far easier to do than the shotgun.
The second machete, he concealed under his left wing. He felt the cool steel against his skin, and knew a false move would be quite painful.
But it had to be done this way.
He checked his watch just to make sure his own judgement of time was correct; seventeen minutes to go.
His estimate had only been a few seconds off.
It was time to go to the main entrance to the area; the place where Jeb would probably arrive; it was a good fifteen minute walk away.
He set out, and allowed his mind to turn to something else. Something he had been avoiding thinking about while he was setting things up. He hadn't wanted distractions. And this certainly counted as one.
The flock was in Dallas.
And, more bizarrely, they had fled a football game in plain view of over fifty thousand people.
They were real.
And rather stupid, apparently.
But that didn't concern Brium at the moment. All that did was the fact that they existed beyond a shadow of a doubt (several employees of the sporting goods store had been discussing this strange turn of events and Brium had joined in for a few minutes while his items were being rung up)
Once again, there had been six of them (and a dog, or something) So it was most likely the same group from New York. Brium hadn't had time to buy a newspaper to study the pictures that had been taken.
He had been on a tight schedule.
And was still on one.
But he was thinking about it now, so he went with it.
It now seemed impossible that they were working for the School. The School wouldn't want to reveal anything that they did. Brium had proved that just today with his threat to Jeb.
They didn't want their existence known.
That simple.
So the flock was real. And they were just like him.
Brium smiled as he made his way along to what would soon become a most interesting meeting. There were so many thoughts coursing through his mind he didn't know how he was filtering through them all and still coming up with competent answers to each one.
But they were real.
And that was all that mattered.
As he arrived at the main portion of the park (which was what it seemed to be, a park) he could see a few people out enjoying the day (what was left of it) It was past five, so most had left and the few that remained seemed only a few steps away from doing the same.
Good.
The less people around, the better.
As soon as Brium came within sight of the main road that entered the area, he saw a small chain of four white vans moving toward him. He could even see Jeb sitting in front passenger seat of the main one.
And Jeb was looking back. He almost looked surprised that Brium had kept his word.
How utterly insulting.
Brium gave a small, and a small nod, turned around, and began heading with the same pace back the way he had come.
It was time.
And he was ready.
Author's Note:
I said I would, so here's the thank you list to the people who have supported this story:
Makmay04, ElvinDragon, CITCAT826, Jacky06, cullen-o-mania, firesilk,wolfsaver, FlamingFlie, DarkAngels0014 and Kittydog Lover.
You people have been amazingly supportive, and I thank you all!