# Tears in Hell (UPDATED OCTOBER 11th)



## Puppy Kicker (Jul 12, 2004)

*The game: *  We run a D20 Modern game.  The rules for Chases and Backgrounds are pulled out of the Spycraft, the rules for Mental Stability are a mixture of D20 Call of Cthulhu and some hombrew.  Magic is a mixture of  D20 Modern Urban Arcana, D20 Call of Cthulhu, and Old Drew Id's Medallions.

*The setting:*  "Tears in Hell", the introductory adventure, is set in eastern Virginia, modern day.  The characters are all non-magical 1st levelers who have had little to no exposure to any of the dark magical nastiness that exists in the shadowy-nasty places.  The characters hail from various places (CA to NY) but are all in Virginia when the adventure starts.  

*The characters:*  Each player decided which actor would play their character in the made-for-TV-movie version of our campaign.  Inspired by Old Drew Id, I wrote up an introduction for each character to explain where they are right now and what got them there.  Those introductions are shown in the next 5 posts.

For an easy and quick reference while reading, a character summary follows:

_Armani Determan:_ (Strong Hero 1)  Played by Clancy Brown.  A street thug from New York.  He got himself in some trouble in the City by stealing something too valuable for his own good and was forced to flee south.  He's ugly, he's tough, he's ugly.  _Allegiances:_ None.  _Backgrounds:_ Hunted.

_Devin Cole:_ (Dedicated Hero 1) Played by Nicholaus Brendon.  A hard-working kid who's had one too many bad turns in life.  He's up to his ears in debt as he tries to support himself and his little sister as well as pay off some money he had to borrow from a local crime boss.  _Allegiances:_ Family, Good.  _Backgrounds: _ Rival, Debt.

_Meadow McLean: _ (Dedicated Hero 1) Played by Robbin Tunney.  A young wicca and student of child psychology at the University of William & Mary.  She's had some odd (some might say mystical) experiences in life and is currently struggling with both her grades and her sexuality.  _Allegiances:_ Wicca.  _Backgrounds:_ Forbidden Love.

_Quinton Stark III:_ (Charismatic Hero 1) Played by Scott Speedman.  Pretty, charming, rich, addicted to gambling.  Quin's family is from New York and he's come down to Virginia, ostensibly to attend college far from his parents.  In reality, he has some other things he'd like to investigate while he's down here. _Allegiances:_ Family.  _Backgrounds:_ Vow, Defeated.

_Rebecca Michaels:_ (Smart Hero 1)  Played by Kirsten Dunst (4 years ago and 15 pounds heavier).  Torn between getting good grades at William & Mary and making a lot of cash with Mary Kay, Rebecca's life is in an upheaval.  She DID just get her first Mary Kay car though, and her romantic attentions to a cute professor WILL be noticed... any .... day .... now.  _Allegiances:_  Good, Mary Kay, William & Mary.  _Backgrounds:_ Mistaken Identity.


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## Puppy Kicker (Jul 12, 2004)

*Introduction: Armani Determan*







*Introduction: Armani Determan*
11:25 PM July 12th, 2004

You’re a bad-mutha-(shut yo' mouth).  You know this, and most of the people you meet know this.  But damned if the cab ride from the Greyhound station to the McDonalds isn’t the most terrifying experience of your life!  This foreigner is insane! He's driving through sheets of rain over a lake of water at somewhere slightly below the speed of sound.  Dude probably wants to meet his maker as soon as possible and he has no problem taking you along with him.  This had better be worth the trip.  Your left hand rests on your leather briefcase – if you get in a car wreck this insanely valuable thing is coming with you.  Your right hand, of course, firmly grips the _oh-sh** _ handle.  Car wrecks happen.  This you know.

---​
_Four Days Ago: You’d been hanging on the street, keeping it real with your posse.  You were a little luckier than Johnny when the gunshots started.  You jumped out of the way – to the right.  Johnny jumped left.  Johnny’s legs were messily removed by a large black sedan as it careened into a brick wall.  The top of Johnny’s body was splayed across the mashed hood of the car, as were the bodies of the car’s driver and a passenger.  Neatly resting on the hood of the car was your big break._

---​
You take your hand off the _oh-sh** _ handle long enough to massage your right cheek.  The gash there is scabbed over now, but very tender.  You curse.  You’re a bad mutha (shut yo' mouth), as everyone knows, and some little gash ain’t enough to make you pansy out.  It’s a painful reminder of why you’re in Virginia now though.  What a miserable state.  All warm and wet.  Probably not a lot of Corleones here though, and that’s priority number one, brother, staying the hell away from that bunch.

---​
_Twelve Hours Ago:	
“Where’s the rock, you little sh**?”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about, man!”  Your lip was bleeding already and the various bruises were starting to swell.

“You’re going to talk, kid.  You’re going to talk or you’re going to scream.  And then you’re going to talk anyway.”  The big Italian produced a pocket knife, flipped the blade open.  

You weren’t scared.  You've been telling yourself that.  You were brave and you kicked that bastard in the nuts as hard as you could.  It threw the guys holding you off balance and you ran, throwing a good kick into the ribs of the knife holder as you ran by.  It was time to get your goods and get the hell out of town for a while._

---​
It will be good to get this damn thing out of your life for good.  All you have to do is get to this McDonalds, make the trade, and get on with your life.  There’s nothing left for you in New York anyway.  Maybe this Yorktown area will work for you.  Hell, you’ve already got yourself a contact here that you might be able to do some work for.

---​
_Two Hours Ago:
“Mr. Nickels is interested in making the deal.  Tonight, 11:30, the McDonalds at Route 17 and Victory Blvd.”  The voice coming out of your cell phone was bossy and in charge.

“That’s in Virginia, right?”  You were still on the Greyhound, making your way to some bus stop in Newport News.

“Where the hell you think it is?  Yeah, Yorktown.  Better be there, kid.  Mr. Nickels doesn’t like to be disappointed.”

“F***er, I’ll be there!”  Oops.  You sometimes do that, just saying sh** without thinking about who you’re talking to.

“Watch your language, kid.  I don’t like to be disappointed either.  And I’m meaner than Mr. Nickels.”

“Yeah, man, I’ll be there and I’ve got the sh**.  Who I looking for?”

“He’ll be looking for you.  Combo is 5-3-5-2.  Don’t open it in the restaurant, kid.”

“Bullsh**!  How will I know it’s enough cash?”

Dead line.  You slid the cell phone into your dufflebag and waited out the rest of the bus ride._

---​
The cab pulls into the McDonalds parking lot.  The rain hasn’t let up at all and your dufflebag’s in the back.  Damn, man, looks like you’re gonna get soaked.  You flip the cabbie a few bucks, no tip, and get out.  He waits a bit longer than necessary to pop the trunk, but you manage to get your dufflebag and sprint to the door of the McD’s without getting every part of your body soaked.

You open the door and look around.  Some young dude at a table, a couple hot chicks with him and some old guy.  Some guy sitting alone, a briefcase on the floor near his feet.  That's your man.  You order yourself a double-quarter-pounder-with-cheese-meal and head towards his table.


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## Puppy Kicker (Jul 12, 2004)

*Introduction: Devin Cole*






*Introduction: Devin Cole * 
11:15 PM July 12th, 2004

“It’s my liiiiiiiiife, it’s now or never.  I ain’t gonna…”

You listen to FM 99 for hard rock.  What the hell is this Bon Jovi crap?  You flick off the radio in frustration and crank the windshield wipers up to high.  The rain has always gotten you down, some nights worse than others.  This is one of those nights.  It’s pouring here in Williamsburg and it’s a crappy night to be out driving.  In fact, it’s a crappy night to be out doing anything.  

---​
_Thirty Minutes Ago:
It was a crappy Monday to begin with, working for a crappy boss on a crappy construction site in the non-stop crappy rain.  You’d just settled down with a crappy light beer to some crappy sitcom when you got the crappy phone call.

Your little sister started looking worried about the time you said “Look, I can’t pay that right now,” and she was already looking up the phone number for a babysitter by the time you said “Sure, I’ll do it.  This’ll pay off the debt for this week, right?”  You hung up the phone and asked her to get a babysitter for a few hours while you went out to take care of some business.  She agreed of course.  What time will you be home?  Don’t know.  She nodded.  Good kid.  Makes the crappy days easier to deal with.  You stormed out into the rain and hopped into your truck.  It started, eventually.

Some thug you’d seen a couple times before met you four blocks away.  He handed you a locked metal briefcase and gave you the instructions you needed.  “Go to the McDonalds at the intersection of Route 17 and Victory Blvd in Yorktown.  It’s by the Wal-mart.  You’re looking for a big guy, scars, brown hair, a leather briefcase.  Make the trade.  Meet me back here at 0200.”  You took the briefcase and tossed it in the seat next to you.  Probably drugs or money.  _ 

---​
The drive to Yorktown is wet and miserable and dangerous, but you survive.  You pull into the parking lot of the Wal-Mart and look over at the McDonalds.  Looks pretty empty.  Good, you don’t want too many people seeing these transactions.  You don’t know how your life ended up at this point, doing trades for Sammy in the middle of the night, but it’s better than being dead, or worse, losing custody of your little sister.

---​
_Five months ago:
“Look man, I need the cash.”

“Everybody needs cash, Mr. Cole.  If you understand the terms, agree to the terms, the money’s yours.  I don’t care what you do with it.  You're a big boy, I'm sure you'll use it wisely.”

“I understand and I’m good for it.  Just got to get on my feet.”

Sammy Nickels nodded and pulled a paper bag from behind the counter.  “It’s all here.  You are welcome to count it if you wish.”

Of course you wanted to count it, but that’s not how you did business with Sammy.  “Naw, I trust you.”

“Of course you do.”  Sammy grinned, flashing two gold-plated incisors.  “The first payment is due next month.  I'd appreciate it if you do not force me to be aggressive in the collection process.”

“Of course not.  I’m good for it.”

The money was gone by the end of the week – lawyers, doctors, mortgage.  When the next month came and you couldn’t pay, Sammy was very understanding.

“All I ask is a small favor and I’ll let you off this time.”

“Sure Sammy, whatever you need.  Thanks for being understanding.”

The incisors flashed again.  “My pleasure, Mr. Cole.  Don’t fail me.”

“Of course not, Sammy.  I wouldn’t dream of it.”_

---​
You sprint through the pouring rain and slam through the door into the McDonalds.  No big guys with briefcases that you can see.  A few college-age kids and an old guy sitting together, that’s all.  Could have been you sitting there, joking with your college friends and getting all warmed up to make something of your life.  Not in the cards for you, though. 

You order a Number 1 with a Dr. Pepper (can't really afford to supersize) and have a seat in a quiet corner.  The conversation at the student’s table is getting loud, but you ignore them as you munch your fries.  A few minutes later a big ugly guy stumbles through the door, carrying a duffle-bag and a little leather briefcase.  A little older than you, big and kinda mean looking.  He gets something to eat at the counter then approaches you.

Guess it’s time for the deal.


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## Puppy Kicker (Jul 12, 2004)

*Introduction: Meadow McLean*






*Introduction: Meadow McLean*
11:25 PM July 12th, 2004

You’re a little distracted right now.  Of course, that’s why you’re here in the first place, because you’ve been a “little distracted” this entire term and your grade in this class pretty much requires some extra credit.  But really, you’d think a professor would be a little more understanding of the problems you’ve been going through.

---​
_Last Week:
“Hi, Meadow.”

“Uh… hi Jared.”  Your eyes darted around.  Escape path.  “How’ve you been?”

“Good.”  He was looking at her.  A little suspicious.  “Introduce me to your friend.”

“Uh… this is my…” You looked at Allison and then looked away.  “This is my… friend.  Alli.”  Allison looked hurt.  Of course.

“Yeah.  Good to meet you, Alli.”  Alli smiled and said hi.  “Meadow and I used to date, y’know.” 

Alli knew.  “Oh really?  How nice.”

“Yeah, it was good.  Really good.”  Jared stared at Allison a few seconds too long.  “Anyway, good seeing you again, Meadow.”

You nodded.  He walked away.  When he was far enough away you wiped a tear off Alli’s cheek.  You skipped class that afternoon - again._

---​
You’re not a big fan of McDonalds, but their salads are pretty good.  You can smell the death around you though, all these animals slaughtered so people can make themselves fatter.  The rest of the people at the table are eating meat, of course.  

There's Rebecca – nice enough, but a little too pretty-girl for you.  She’s often trying to “help” you bring out your inner beauty.  Of course, that involves selling you cosmetics.

Then Quin – handsome and charming and smart and manipulative.  He’s hit on you a few times, but then, he’s hit on every woman in the class at least a few times.  Usually successfully.

Professor Gallivan – intelligent and very troubled.  His daughter died not long ago, but he kept teaching.  You may not be a psychologist yet, but you know that’s not healthy.  

The door opens and some guy comes in, orders some food.

“So you all want some extra credit.”  You all nod.  Professor Gallivan reaches under the table and rummages around in his satchel.  He sets a small stone figurine on the table, shaped like a bear.  You spit out a mouthful of salad and almost vomit as waves of nausea sweep across your body.  

---​
_You were 16 when you last felt this nausea.  Sitting in a circle with three other high school girls playing a little game of witchcraft.  At least, it seemed like a game.  All of you had your hands resting on the Ouija board, willing it to answer your secret questions about boys.

“Stop pushing it towards the A, Meadow.  I don’t like Alan!”  All the girls giggled.

“My turn!  What will I be when I grow up?”  At that point you really wondered. It was suddenly really cold in the room.  You felt a little queasy.  

The pointer moved.  E -------- V --------- I ---------- L.

“Stop it, Anne!”

“I’m not doing it!”  All four of you pulled your hands away from the board then.  The pointer continued to move, faster and faster.  E – V – I – L – E – V – I – L – E – V – I – L – E – V – I – L – E – V – I – L

You got sick, threw up all over the floor and the Ouija board.  The other girls ran away.  Nobody talked about it again._

---​
“Are you alright, Meadow?”  

You nod at the professor.  “Just a little bad salad, thanks.”  You’re not alright. You feel like you're going to puke.

“I found this on my dig in Mexico last year.”

“Mexico?  They have a lot of bears down there?”

“Not really, Quin.  Interesting, isn’t it?  Anyway, we’re all going to find out a little something about this artifact.  I’ve…. done…”  Professor Gallivan rummages through his satchel and pulls some papers out. “…some research already…”

Another customer comes in.  Professor Gallivan tosses the note-scrawled papers on the table.  Time to get down to some research.


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## Puppy Kicker (Jul 12, 2004)

*Introduction: Quinton Stark III*






*Introduction: Quinton Stark III*
11:25 PM July 12th, 2004

Your BMW M3 takes the corners like a champ, even in this pouring rain.  Good investment, if you do say so yourself, paid for with profits from a batch of finals.  It looks hot.  You tell yourself that’s why you bought it – for the girls.  But it goes fast, and you know that sometimes it’s good to have something that will get you somewhere fast – or away from somewhere fast.

---​
_Like John.  Uncle John wasn’t fast enough.  He died in a very messy manner, splattered across a Manhattan street with a “suicide” note resting on his desk, 12 floors above his corpse.  It wasn’t in his handwriting, even the cops knew that.  And the last line, “I shouldn’t have crossed the Nickels” gave you your only hint who was responsible.  The cops didn’t care and the case was closed within days.  Suicide.

Uncle John had returned from a trip to the North Carolina Outer Banks shortly before his murder.  He was worried and secretive, even with his favorite nephew, when he got back.  Guess he got caught.  Should have gone faster.  Perhaps that’s why you chose William & Mary.  Someday you may find out whodunit._

---​
You arrive at the McDonalds a few minutes early and kick back the seat to relax and listen to the radio bump.  You’re in no hurry to go in there.  You need the extra credit to pass your _Anthropological Study of Native American Cultures_ class, but you figure as long as you show the effort you’ll have no trouble getting a passing grade.  Hell, you could talk yourself into a B without doing any homework in most classes.  Professor Gallivan is a hard ass though.  His classes used to be so much easier, but now he’s just a bit of a dick.  

Enough thoughts about ugly old professors.  You gaze at the photograph on your rear view mirror.  Vanessa Steel.  Daaaaaamn...

---​
_She took you for a fool, took you for a ride, and took you for a load of cash.  You never lost like that, and you never enjoyed losing more.  Vanessa was an incredible woman with the types of talents that you only dream of.  There have been plenty of women in your bed since she turned you down, and plenty before.  But that’s the one you will have.  Oh yes._

---​
Time to go.  You sprint through the rain, thoroughly soaked by the time you slam through the doors of the Yorktown McDonalds.  Meadow (she’s a cute enough girl who seems to think she’s a witch) and Professor Gallivan (hard ass) are here.  Rebecca is, of course, not.

You’ve been waiting a while when Rebecca finally arrives, looking pretty hot.  She comes to the table, carrying her backpack and purse and a soaked umbrella.

“Hi Professor Gallivan.”  Oh, she’s totally macking on the old teacher.  That’s disgusting.

“Have a seat, Ms. Michaels.”

“Thank you, Martin, I will.”  She squeezes into a seat too close to Gallivan.

“Yorktown’s a bit out of the way, isn’t it, Prof?”

“A bit, Mr. Stark, but I wanted some privacy.”

“Privacy then, great.  Well let’s get down to it.”  You’re impatient to get this crap over with.

Rebecca nudges closer to Gallivan.  “Yes, let’s get down to it.”  Disgusting.

The door opens and some guy comes in, orders some food.

“So you all want some extra credit.”  You all nod.  Professor Gallivan reaches under the table and rummages around in his satchel.  He sets a small stone figurine on the table, shaped like a bear.  Yee ha, more boring anthropology crap.  Suddenly, Meadow spits out a mouthful of salad and keels over.  

“Are you alright, Meadow?” Professor Gallivan asks.

She nods at the professor.  “Just a little bad salad, thanks.”

Gallivan nods and continues.  “I found this on my dig in Mexico last year.”

“Mexico?” you say.  “They have a lot of bears down there?”

“Not really, Quin.  Interesting, isn’t it?  Anyway, we’re all going to find out a little something about this artifact.  I’ve…. done…”  Professor Gallivan rummages through his satchel and pulls some papers out. “…some research already…”

Another customer comes in.  You squirm uncomfortably.  Rough looking guy.  He doesn't look interested in your table though.

The Prof tosses the papers on the table and you deftly move your Diet Coke out of the way before it gets knocked over.  Time to "show some effort."


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## Puppy Kicker (Jul 12, 2004)

*Introduction: Rebecca Michaels*






*Introduction: Rebecca Michaels*
11:00 PM July 12th, 2004

You apply the final finishing touches to your face – perfect.  Your hair is brown today, and it goes well with today’s face.  Martin, er, Professor Gallivan, will probably pretend not to notice again, but you know he’ll fall for you eventually.  He’s still hurting from his daughter’s death and you understand that you need to give him time.

You are especially careful as you run out to your car (shiny and red and new, the Mary Kay logo prominently displayed) to avoid the rain.  It would just NOT DO to have your face ruined right before you see Martin.  

Your phone beeps at you as you drive out of the campus parking lot.  You pull over to check your messages.  You’ll be a bit late to the “study group” but that’s all right.  You know it’s best to keep the customer’s appetite wetted by letting them wait just a bit, and Martin is just a customer – a cute and bookish customer.  Beepbeepboopbeepboopbeepboop… your answering service tells you that you have one message.

"Uh, hi.  This is Tom again.  Didn’t get an answer on my last call.  Uh.  Anyway, they said they’d buy it.  Five hundred alright for you?  Just let me know.  They said it’s time… uh, a time issue.  You know?  So call me back soon. Beeeeep."

Whatever that means.  “Tom”, whoever he is, left a message earlier this week too.  You DO NOT give your cell phone number out, even to customers, so who knows how this L-O-S-E-R got it, but he had best stop bugging you or you’ll get a restraining order.  You *are * mildly curious as to what he’s selling though.

You delete the message and pull onto the road.  Someone honks at you as you cut them off.  You flip a very well manicured finger his way and continue on your journey.  Yorktown is a long drive, especially on a night like this.

It’s almost 11:30 when you get to the McDonalds.  Martin’s Subaru Impreza is parked out front, and you recognize that sports car that Quin is so fond of.  You rush through the rain, carefully positioning the umbrella, and push the door open.  The rush ends there – you enter the McDonalds like a lady.   

Martin is there, so is Quin (spoiled rich kid, but very cute) and Meadow (good skin, potentially good hair, could use some help to find that “inner beauty”).  You nonchalantly walk over to their table.

“Hi Professor Gallivan.”

“Have a seat, Ms. Michaels.”

“Thank you, Martin, I will.”  You squeeze into the seat closest to him, slightly pushing Meadow out of the way.  You set your daypack on the floor near Martin’s satchel and your purse near his cheeseburger.

“Yorktown’s a bit out of the way, isn’t it, Prof?”

“A bit, Mr. Stark, but I wanted some privacy.”

“Privacy then, great.  Well let’s get down to it.”

You nudge a little closer to Martin.  “Yes, let’s get down to it.”

The door opens and some guy with a briefcase comes in.  Cute, in a rugged, blue collar sort of way.  You could help him with his hair, and he could probably use some skin conditioning.  He orders some food.

Your attention returns to Martin.  “So you all want some extra credit.”  You nod, not entirely honestly, but whatever.  Your grades are fine - that’s not the sort of extra credit you’re looking for.  Martin reaches under the table and rummages around in his satchel.  He sets a small stone figurine on the table, shaped like a bear.  Suddenly, Meadow spits out a mouthful of salad and keels over.  

“Are you alright, Meadow?” Martin asks.  He’s always so thoughtful.

She nods at the professor.  “Just a little bad salad, thanks.”

Martin nods and continues.  “I found this on my dig in Mexico last year.”

“Mexico?  They have a lot of bears down there?”

“Not really, Quin.  Interesting, isn’t it?  Anyway, we’re all going to find out a little something about this artifact.  I’ve…. done…”  Martin rummages through his satchel – he’s adorable when he’s concentrating – and pulls some papers out. “…some research already…”

Another customer comes in.  This guy could really use your services.  Horrible hair, facial sun damage, a couple cuts and bruises, the outfit is *atrocious*.  He has a dufflebag and briefcase, looks like a vagrant.  Probably can’t afford your makeover services.  

You ignore him and get down to researching.


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## Eyas (Jul 12, 2004)

*Sticks his head in to watch the opening scene* "Oh, this looks interesting. Think I will stick around for awhile. Now, where is ledded with that bottle? He is usually around for shows like this..."


Good stuff man. I am looking forward to seeing how it goes.


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## Puppy Kicker (Jul 12, 2004)

*“Tears in Hell” - McHoldup*

*“Tears in Hell” - McHoldup*

_11:30 PM Monday, July 12th
Yorktown, Virginia_

Sirens blared in the background.  Bad weather meant bad accidents all over town and the emergency vehicles were busy tonight.  It was pleasantly cool inside the McDonalds.  Even in this weather, the heat outside was formidable and most dining establishments kept the air conditioners pumping.  A couple of bored employees relaxed behind the counter, pretending to clean up but mainly just swapping high school stories and discussing how many Happy Meals they'd spat in today.

The large, ugly man approached the table Devin sat at, opposite the restaurant from the students.  He tossed his duffel bag on the bench across from Devin, set his bag of food on the table and sat down.  A puddle of water formed on the seat around him - rain like this made everyone appear to be wearing faulty Depends. 

“You here for me?”  Devin nodded.  Armani set the leather briefcase on the table between them.  “Let’s get this sh** over with then.  Lemme see the money.”  Devin placed his metal briefcase on the table, facing the leather one.  Armani looked it over once.  A 4-digit combination lock was inset on the front.  He slid the leather briefcase across the table.  “Check it.”

The door to the McDonalds swung open yet again, letting in a gust of humid air and sheets of rain.  Devin and Armani remained engrossed in their transaction.  Across the restaurant, Professor Gallivan and his students rummaged through sheets of paper on the table, discussing the specifics of an archeological dig in Mexico.  They tried to politely ignore Meadow's sudden flu symptoms.

Thus they didn’t really notice the new group who entered the McDonalds.  The McEmployees did notice, and their discussion of high school problems and saliva stopped suddenly.  There was something odd about this new group.  What was it?  Possibly that they were all dressed in dark clothing and masks and carried an assortment of deadly weapons.  Yeah, that was it…

Their apparent leader, a short and lithe woman dressed in the same dark clothing as the rest, waved a gargantuan revolver in the air and shouted “Don’t move and nobody gets hurt!”

Everyone noticed the newcomers then.  Rebecca, peripheral vision always slightly focused on her latest crush, noticed Professor Gallivan as he surreptitiously snuck the stone bear off and under the table.

There were six of them.  All dressed in black clothing and wearing open-mouthed ski masks.  The leader was waving her slug-thrower in the air.  Two men wielded smaller pistols, which they pointed at the customers.  Another held a sawed-off shotgun and he trained it on the employees.  A short, muscular man held a less intimidating weapon – a metal baseball bat.  Armani noticed that, poorly armed or not, he was the only one in the group who looked eager to use his weapon.

The last member of the gang was a taller woman, red hair peaking out from beneath her ski mask, who hid behind the rest of group.  She held nothing more intimidating than a Palm Pilot.  Rebecca noticed that she was looking at the PDA and whispering, but not to anyone in particular.  

The newcomers fanned out at the entrance.  The man with the shotgun hopped the counter and took control of the cowering teenage employees.  The baseball slugger looked over at Devin and Armani’s table and noticed a briefcase.  He approached the two men, menacing them with his bat.  “You got something for me there, esse?”  The rest of the gang seemed focused on the student’s table.

“There’s nothing of value here,”  Devin lied.  The man with the bat reached for the metal briefcase.  The leather case nestled unnoticed on the bench, thanks to Aramani’s sleight-of-hand.

Under his jacket, Armani threaded the fingers of his right hand into his set of brass knuckles and tensed for action.

The PDA-wielding woman whispered something to the leader and pointed towards the students' table.  The leader nodded and approached the table.  The two pistol-men followed her, flanking her like obedient puppies who were proud to show of the new "heel" command they'd just learned.

“Professor, we know you have it.  Give it to me or people start dying.”  She thumbed the hammer back on her revolver and it clicked home menacingly.  Her cronies to either side replicated her movement.  The click from their semi-automatics was not nearly as impressive.

The normally softspoken professor stood then, a sudden rage appearing in his eyes.  “MORE PEOPLE START DYING, YOU MEAN!?”  His right hand reached under his tweed jacket.  “F*** YOU, MURDERING B****!”  He produced a small pistol from a concealed holster.

“Oh …” said Quin.

“Oh …” said Meadow.

“Martin, the language,” said Rebecca, shocked.

The sound of gunshots echoed through the McDonalds and was lost outside in the torrential downpour.


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## Retto (Jul 13, 2004)

Fun so far--can't wait to read more!  And good title, by the way.


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## Puppy Kicker (Jul 13, 2004)

*“Tears in Hell” - McGunfight*

_11:35 PM Monday, July 12th
Yorktown, Virginia_

Armani Determan’s street-honed muscles tensed for action as his fingers clenched the brass knuckles in his pocket.  Mr. Louisville Slugger glanced towards the action on the other side of the McDonalds, just for a second when the shouting started, but it was all the time the street punk needed.  Armani leapt to his feet and propelled his brass-equipped fist towards the batter’s nose.  Cartilage *crunched * and blood *spewed * through the air.  

“What’s mine is mine, a******.”  Armani struck a dramatic combat pose.  The thump of the slugger’s body hitting the ground was drowned out as the bullets started flying.

---​
Professor Gallivan leveled his Pathfinder at the lithe woman, but in his hurry he displayed his ineptitude with the small pistol.  The shot flew wild.  The .22 round took out an innocent overheated Big Mac behind the counter.

The woman responded, the hammer on her pistol *slammed * home and propelled a .45 slug into Professor Gallivan’s midsection.  The bookish man collapsed to the floor, blood dribbling from his clenched lips.  “The bear….”  Then his eyes closed.

“There goes my extra credit.”  Quin slowly stood up and raised his arms to the flickering fluorescent lights.

A terrified Meadow tried to slide under the table, but it was too crowded!  Backpacks, a satchel, Happy Meal wrappers, Rebbeca.

Meadow took a deep breath.  _What am I about to get myself into?_  She snatched the professor’s satchel from beneath the table and vaulted the back of the bench towards the door.  She skidded to a halt at the door, fumbling to open it as her momentum and the slick floor carried her into the adjacent wall.

“She’s got the satchel!”  The revolver-toting woman pointed at Meadow’s retreating back.  “Get her!”

One of the gun-toting men leveled his pistol at Meadow’s back.  “Drop the satchel or die, bitch.”  The other man jammed his gun into Quinton’s ribs.  “No funny stuff.”  Quin shook his head.

Rebecca’s voice whimpered up from beneath the table. “Please don’t hurt me, just take my purse.  There’s a cell phone… some money… a nice shade of lipstick?”

Meadow managed to get the door open and sprinted out into the rainy darkness, the satchel trailing behind her like an overfed tail.  One of the pistol wielding men followed her, shooting wildly at her retreating form.

Putting her pistol to the side the gang leader approached the professor’s body and checked the pulse.  “Good.  Help me get him out of here.”  One eye (and one gun) on Quinton, her crony helped her drag the unconscious professor towards the opposite door.

“Get out of my way,” the crony growled at Quin.

“Will do, sir.  Just get my things…”  Quinton began to grab handfuls of paper from the table with one arm while he reached under the table with the other and grabbed his backpack.

Rebecca dodged Quin’s groping hand and found her own backpack.  Odd.  She was pretty sure she hadn’t left it unzipped….

---​
The baseball batter scrambled between Armani’s legs, skittering across the floor and out of reach of the huge pugilist.  He staggered to his feet several yards from where he’d fallen, readied his bat and turned to face Armani… and was again knocked on his butt.  The little cartilage that was left in his nose disintegrated under Armani's powerful blow.

“Take it, punk.  Take it all.”  Armani struck another dramatic combat pose over the KO’d batman, then barely ducked beneath two bullets that _whizzed _ by his head and shattered the window behind him.

The gang leader and her crony had dropped the professor and were aiming their pistols at Armani.  He screamed in rage and charged at them.  His powerful legs carried him to the leader in seconds and the brass knuckles *slammed * into her belly and chest.  Somehow, she stayed on her feet, gasping for air.  The injured woman stepped back, out of the way of the deadly fists.  Her next shot didn't miss.  Her crony's shot didn't miss either.  The force of the two rounds propelled Armani backwards.  A trail of blood sprayed the ceiling above him and lubricated the floor as he slid to a stop against a table.  He did not strike a dramatic combat pose. 

Quinton Stark III snuck quietly to the door, arms loaded with his backpack and reams of notes.

The top of a perfectly-groomed head, a well-powdered forehead, flawlessly plucked and penciled eyebrows, and faultless eyelashes appeared over the edge of the table.  “Can I just go?” asked Rebecca.  “Quin got to go.”  Nobody answered, so she grabbed her purse and backpack and went.

---​
Devin looked around.  Across the restaurant bullets were flying, brass knuckles were pummeling, people were falling.  Over in his corner, not much was happening.  “Looks like a good time to make an exit.”  He picked up the metal briefcase.  He looked at the leather one.  “You work for crooks, Dev.  That doesn’t mean you are one.”  He left it sitting there and slid off the bench seat.  

Standing between him and the exit was a woman holding a PDA.  Standing between him and the woman was a man with a sawed-off shotgun.  “I don’t want to hurt you.  But I will.”  The man raised the gun and advanced on Devin.  Devin dropped the briefcase.

“There’s something we can agree on.  I don’t want to get hurt.”

He saw two of the assailants drag the old guy’s body out the door.  The leader stopped long enough to speak to PDA-woman.  “We need the briefcases.  Get them and get out of here.”  Devin held his hands up and waited.

---​
From outside, more gunshots cracked.  Meadow zigged and zagged and zogged and zugged, trying desperately to avoid the bullets hurling towards her back.  She slid around the end of the McDonalds, dodged around a trash dumpster, and skidded to a stop on the other side of the restaurant.  She peeked around the corner.  Her assailant was nowhere to be seen.

Then a chunk of the wall an inch above her head EXPLODED.

Meadow leapt around the corner, sprinting for all she was worth towards the parking lot.  She skidded to a halt when she reached it, looking around desperately for an escape route.  The streetlights illuminated Quin.  His butt was sticking out from the driver-side door of his BMW M3 and he was rummaging around in the glove compartment.  “Quin!  Help!”  He backed out of his car and turned around, one hand grasping a small nickel-plated pistol.  He waved at her.  A shot rang out from behind her and she fell, muscle torn from her thigh by the bullet.  The satchel skittered across the parking lot and landed under the bumper of a large white Dodge Caravan.

Quin looked around, eyes piercing the darkness for the source of the gunman.  Nothing.  He saw Rebecca, talking frantically into her cell phone, near the door he’d just exited.  Then, from around the corner of the McDonalds a man sprinted into view.  He ran towards Meadow, stopped over her body, looked around on the ground.  The gunman’s eyes met Quin’s the moment Quin squeezed the trigger on his Ruger Service-Six.

---​
“Thank you for calling 911 emergency.  What is your situation?”

“Guns!  McDonalds!  Martin!  Victory Boulevard and 17th!”

“Has there been a shooting?”

Rebecca nodded.

“Miss.  Are you there?”

Rebecca nodded again.

“Miss?”

“I said yes!  People are shooting.  Martin was shot!”

“Stay calm.  Where are you?”

---​
Armani pushed himself up to his hands and knees.  He watched some old man get dragged out the door by a couple of masked assailants.  He watched the man he came to make the deal with back up with a shotgun in his face.  He watched blood drip from two large and amazingly painful wounds in his chest and shoulder.

“It’s all I got.”  He began to crawl towards the leather briefcase, a trail of blood marking his path like a gory Hansel and Gretel tale.  “It’s all I got.  It’s all I got.”

They were going to take the gem.  And they were going to take the money.  And he was going to die in this f***ing city with no money and no homies.

Armani watched the man with the shotgun glance at the table, just for a second.  Armani watched in amazement as the man he’d come to make the deal with grabbed the shotgun, twisted the shotgun, yanked on the shotgun.  “Oh, that’s some smooth sh**.”

Devin pointed his newly earned weapon at his ex-assailants.

---​
Quinton Stark III missed.  The gunman fired a quick shot back at Quin, but the round flew wide as Meadow kicked at his leg.  The gunman sprinted towards the Caravan, ducking for cover behind it as Quin fired another round.  The bullet punched a hole in the van, but the gunman was unscathed.  The gunman returned fire.  He didn’t miss this time.  Quin looked down at the blood ruining one of his favorite silk shirts.  “Bad day at the tables, Mr. Stark.”  He slumped to the ground and tried to crawl towards his M3.

Meadow scurried across the parking lot, desperately seeking cover.  She saw Rebecca on the other side of some parked cars, yelling at a cell phone.  “Help me!” Meadow cried.

Rebecca scanned the parking lot.  Quin was on the ground, barely moving.  Meadow stumbling towards her, in obvious pain.  There was a man with a gun.  He was looking on the ground for something.

“Just remain calm.  Help is on the way,” the Verizonified voice droned on from the cell phone.

“People are shooting.  Real guns!  I DO NOT have time to chat right now!”  

Rebecca dug through her purse, fumbling for anything to help her ailing classmate.  The car keys!  “Get in the car and drive!”  From the passenger side of her Grand Am she underhanded the keyring towards Meadow.  The Mary Kay keyring vanished into the night, somewhere well out of Meadow’s reach.  Meadow failed to hide her irritation.

“Nice toss.”

The gunman found what he was searching for – the satchel.  He picked it up and hopped in the driver’s side of the Caravan.  The engine revved to life and the headlights glared at Rebecca and Meadow as they fumbled around the puddle-covered parking lot looking for keys.

“Found them!”  Triumphant, Meadow held the keys up.  More gunshots rang from the McDonalds, the sounds of shattering glass.  Quinton saw one of the restaurant patrons fall to the ground.

---​
Devin menaced the two wanna-be ninjas with his newly earned shotgun.  “I don’t want to kill you.  But I will.”  PDA-woman and the recently disarmed man backed up towards the door.  Devin noticed the man he’d come here to meet crawling towards him.  _Glad he’s alive, though not by much._  He waved the shotgun again.  “Get out of here!”

Devin sensed it.  Somehow he sensed what was about to happen.  His head turned in slow motion.  His eyes focused on the window to his left.  Through the window.  Focused on the barrel of a pistol.  The woman with the revolver.  He saw the pane of glass shatter.  He saw the bullet in slow motion as it approached his head.  He saw nothing.

Armani lunged at the shotgun as it fell from Devin’s nerveless fingers.  Lying on the ground, half his body protected by a McTrashcan, he leveled the shotgun at the PDA-woman and her companion.  “If you take a single step towards me I will blow both of your motherf***ing heads off.”  He meant it, but he knew that in his present state the kick from the shotgun would probably finish him off.

The assailants didn’t know that.  They rushed from the restaurant without a backward glance, leaving both briefcases untouched.

---​
The masked assailants dragged the professor into the back of the van as Meadow and Rebecca cowered in the Grand Am.  The doors of the van slammed shut and its engine revved into reverse, turned, leapt forward.

Quinton, pulling an amazing matador maneuver, hurled himself out of the way as the Dodge Caravan squealed out of the parking lot and nearly overran him.  

Rebecca spoke into her cell phone. “The bad guys are in a van.  They’re heading down Victory Boulevard towards Jefferson.  It’s a white Dodge Caravan.  I can’t read the whole license plate… umm…. North Carolina.  Last half is 544.” 

Frustrated, the students watched as the van disappeared into the darkness.

“Thank you.  Please remain calm.”

“People are dying.  I’ll be a lot more calm if you can get a darn ambulance out here!”

Meadow and Rebecca dug through the trunk of the Mary Kay Grand Am, looking for medical supplies.

Quin groaned and leaned against his BMW, the rain washing blood down his silk shirt and onto his Dockers.  “This is why I only eat at Burger King.”


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Jul 13, 2004)

*“Tears in Hell” – Bearly Involved*

_11:45 PM Monday, July 12th
Yorktown, Virginia_

Armani and Quin crouched over Devin’s body while Meadow applied pressure and bandages to his head.  “He might make it,” she said.  “He might not.”

Quin glanced at Armani’s wounds.  “Not looking too good there, pal.  Might want to have a seat.  I’m sure the briefcases aren’t going anywhere.

Armani scowled at him and hugged the metal and leather briefcases to his chest harder.  He almost passed out.  “I’ll have a seat if I want to, man.”  Then he sat down.  “You ain’t looking too good neither.”

“Please remain calm.”  The voice droned through the earpiece of Rebecca’s cell phone.  “We are sending help.  Just stay calm.  Stay on the line and remain calm.”  Rebecca rolled her eyes.  She set the cell phone down on the trash can.  The droning voice continued.  “Help will be there any minute.  Just remain…”  The voice faded as Rebecca walked over to the body of Mr. Louisville Slugger and checked his pulse.

“This guy’s dead.”  Rebecca thought she sounded remarkably calm while she said it.  He was poorly dressed.  The clothes still had that new-clothes-from-a-cheap-store smell to them.

“Good!  Swing a bat at me, motherf***er.”  Armani coughed in agony from the strain of his sudden outburst.

The emergency vehicles arrived a few minutes later.  Almost everyone rode an ambulance to the hospital.  An armed police escort rode shotgun.  Quinton objected at first.  

“I’m alright.  I think I’ll just go home.”  

“You’ll go to the hospital with us or you’ll go downtown with us.”  

“Hospital it is.”

Rebecca followed in her Grand Am.  She fixed her makeup at the stoplights.

---​
After checking in on Devin to make sure he was alive, Armani left the hospital and checked in to a Motel 6 a few miles away.  Checking the caller ID feature of his cell phone, Armani dialed in the digits for Sammy Nickels.  The deal had gone bad and Armani wanted to clear the air as soon as possible.

Busy signal.  He’d try again later.  But for now…

In the peace and quiet of the air conditioned hotel room, Armani finally sat down and took a long relaxing breath.  On the floor near his feet rested the leather briefcase he’d brought from New York.  In front of him on the desk was the metal briefcase he’d collected from McDonalds.  He’d killed a man to make sure he got at least one of them.

He rolled the dials to the proper combination.  5 – 3 – 5 - 2.  The lock clicked.  The case creaked as the young thug opened it.  “Ohhellyeah.  OH… HELL… YEAH!”

Armani fell asleep an hour later, as visions of thirty THOUSAND dollars in cash danced through his head.

The clock blinked 4:12 AM at him when he awoke to the pounding on his hotel room door.

---​
_02:30 AM Tuesday, July 13th
Riverside Hospital_

Rebecca sat in an uncomfortable chair in Meadow’s hospital room.  The ugly looking man (he’d introduced himself as Armani, and Rebecca thought THAT was an amazingly inappropriate name) had checked himself out a couple of hours ago.  The nice-looking man with the bullet wound in the head was still at the hospital, still unconscious.  Quin was in this room too.  A curtain separated his quiet snoring from the girls.  Meadow was awake.

“All that for nothing.  The professor got shot.  Innocent people got shot.  I got shot.  They stole the bear.  They stole the professor.”  Meadow looked shell-shocked, like a woman who had lost everything – and then been shot.

“Well, I have the little bear statue.”

Meadow looked at Rebecca, eyes wide.  “You stole the bear?”

“Well I didn’t STEAL it.  It was in my backpack.  I guess Martin put it in there before he got shot.”  Rebecca smiled.  “Unless it crawled in there by itself!”

Meadow suddenly looked a bit pale.  Rebecca leaned away.  SHE certainly didn’t want to catch whatever seemed to be making Meadow queasy all the time.

---​
_04:12 AM Tuesday, July 13th
Newport News, Motel 6_

Armani fumbled with the sheets as the pounding on the door continued.  He fell out of bed, kicked the briefcase full of cash into a corner, peaked through the peephole.  A huge man’s fist came in and out of view as he pounded on the door.  He was dressed professionally in a tailored suit.  The jacket almost-but-not-quite hid the bulge of a pistol.

“Who is it?”

“We’re looking for Armani Determan.  We’re here from Mr. Nickels.”

“What do you need?”

“Let us in.”

Armani double-checked the security chain.  Locked.  He maintained his view through the peephole as he unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door open … just a little.  The large man tensed and propelled himself towards the door.  Armani was ready for this and slammed it shut.  The huge man’s shoulder slammed against the door, but it held.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT, A**HOLE?!”

“Better let us in, kid.”  The big man reached under his tailored jacket and produced a large pistol, silenced.

Armani thought quickly.  He was in no shape to take on armed thugs.  His gunshot wounds had been treated at the hospital, but they were by no means healed.  There was no escape path.  No window in the bathroom.  Armani did the only thing he could think to do.

He politely opened the door.  “Come in.  Uh, have a seat.”

The man filled the doorway when he entered.  “Thank you.  I will.”  Another man followed.  He was slightly smaller, but still intimidating.  He also held a silenced pistol.  He closed the door and stood in front of the doorway.  

“You had a deal with Sammy,” said the bigger man.  He leaned against the TV stand and scanned the room.  “Sammy never got his merchandise.”

“It wasn’t my fault, man!”  Armani argued.  “We were attacked!  Man, I tried to call.”

“We’re not here to listen to excuses, Mr. Determan.  Where’s the merchandise?”

Armani pointed at the leather briefcase on the other side of the room.  The man reached it in two steps, picked it up, opened it.  “This is it.”

The other man opened the door and stepped out.  The large man glanced at the metal briefcase, then at Armani.  “Anyone know you’re here?”

Armani nodded.  “I told the cops where I was gonna stay.”

The big man nodded.  “Don’t tell anyone we were here tonight.”

Armani assured him that nobody would know and locked the door behind the men as they left.

Armani’s heart returned to its normal pace within a few minutes and his frenzied mind began to relax and assess the situation.  

_How did they know I was here?_

Tuesday morning Armani deposited thirty thousand dollars in two separate bank accounts.

---​
_12:30 PM Friday, July 16th
Riverside Hospital_

It was Friday when Devin finally awoke.  The pain in his head was intense and his vision swam as he tried to focus on the neatly suited figure sitting in his hospital room.

“Glad to see you’re finally awake, Mr. Cole.”  The voice sounded familiar.

“Glad to be awake.”  Devin managed to get his eyes focused on the man.  One of Sammy’s cronies.  “What day is it?”

“Friday.”

“What do you want?”

“Mr. Nickels was wondering what happened to his property.”

“I got shot in the head.  I sort of lost track of it about then.”

The man nodded.  “Sorry to hear that.  I’ll go let Mr. Nickels know.”  He stood to leave.  “Oh, your little sister is in good hands.”

Devin tried to sit up, swooned, collapsed to the bed.  “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH LISA?!?”  The world swam around him.

“Oh, she’s safe.  We’ll just take care of her while you’re busy looking for Mr. Nickels’ property.”

“WHERE IS SHE!?!”

“I hope you feel better soon, Mr. Cole.”  The man walked out.

---​
Rebecca, Quin, and Meadow had returned to the hospital to check on the stranger with the head wound.  Some quick words with the nurse and Meadow found out his new status.  “Cole’s awake.”  

“Well let’s go see him.  I’ve got some questions,” said Quin.

The three students had spent the better part of the week healing and researching the artifact they had been mysteriously left with.  They recapped their findings as the wound their way through the hospital passageways and elevators.

“He found this thing in Mexico…”

“Southern Mexico, near Chiapas.  Darn near in Guatamala,” specified Rebecca.

Quin continued.  “Right.  So southern Mexico, some Mayan village or something.  But he found a bunch of other things too.  Like, tons of little tourist toys.”

“We call them artifacts, Quin.”

“Right, Meadow.  Artifacts.  So why was this one so important?”

“The notes didn’t really say how he decided it was more important than the others.  But he is REALLY smart.  And he found out its name... Uh... Mentos... Mannequin...”

"_Mensajero de la Muerte_," said Meadow.  "Spanish.  It means Messenger of Death.  The notes MIGHT have said why, if they hadn’t been soaked by the rain.”  Meadow glared at Quin.  

The elevator dinged at the third floor and the doors opened.

“Hey, I did the best I could.  And who knows what we missed out on because you couldn’t keep your hands on that satchel.”

“Oh, children.  Enough!”  Rebecca walked off the elevator.  The others followed.  “It doesn’t matter HOW he knew it was different.  But there was definitely something different.  His notes talked about some ritual that made the bear talk to dead things.”

“The bear sees dead people!”  Quin grinned.

“Yeah, sounds silly to me too.  But so what if it’s all bogus?  Somebody thought it was important enough to kidnap and kill for.  Martin didn’t know the specifics of the ritual anyway.  Plus I’m sure he’s smart enough to realize that that’s all hokey anyway.”

“We shouldn’t just assume it is fake, Rebecca.  We should, perhaps, assume it is real and then see where that leads us.”

“Whatever, Meadow.”  Rebecca stopped at an open door.  “This is his room.” 

Devin Cole was pulling on a pair of pants with one hand and removing various IV needles with the other.  Armani was in the room with him, but there was no conversation going on.

“Hi.  Devin Cole I presume?”  Devin didn’t answer.  Quin extended his right hand  “Quinton Stark III.  Nice to meet you.”

Devin continued to get dressed.

“Listen.  I don’t care what kind of attitude you’ve got going on here, Mister.  We’re all in this together.”

Devin looked up then.  “I’m not in this with anyone.  I was shot because of your old friend.  I just need to get home.”

“Well… I… he’s not that old.”

They all followed as Devin hurried out of the room.  He still wore his hospital gown.  It was partially tucked into his jeans.

Quinton grabbed Devin by the shoulder and spun him around.  “Listen.  Like it or not, you’re involved in this.  Those people were after all of us, for one reason or another.  The least you can do is talk to us.”  

“I’ve got other things to worry about.”

Devin was silent as they rode the elevator to the ground floor.

“Well let us help you.  Do you need…”

Devin spun around and shouted at Rebecca.  “I DON’T NEED YOUR CHARITY!”

“Um, Mr. Cole.  There’s a problem with your insurance.”  The nurse looked nervous as she tried to intercept Devin.  He walked around her and continued towards the door.

They arrived on the sidewalk outside the hospital.  The group watched as Devin searched the parking lot.  He scratched his head.  "Umm..."

“No charity, then."  Rebecca dangled the Mary Kay keychain in Devin’s face.  "Would you like a ride?”


----------



## ledded (Jul 15, 2004)

Pretty good so far, keep up the good work.  I'm interested to see where this story goes.


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Jul 15, 2004)

Thanks for the input, ledded.  Didn't realize when I started what I was getting in to!  Anyway, the players seem to like it so far so I'll keep it up.  Another session tonight, so we'll see where they go from here.  Wish them luck... muwahahahaha......

Oh, and as a bit of advertising, Devin's owner said he might be posting the "inner struggles" of his character on this board too.  So look forward to that!


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Jul 16, 2004)

*“Tears in Hell” – Bearhunters*

*“Tears in Hell” – Bearhunters*

_3:30 PM Friday, July 16th
William & Mary Campus, Williamsburg, Virginia_

Rebecca parked her car in the parking lot outside her dorm and said goodbye to Meadow.  She walked up the three flights of stairs to her dorm room and stuck her key in the lock.  It didn’t turn the right way… already unlocked.  Rebecca’s heart rate ratcheted up to aerobic levels as she cracked the door open and peaked in.  Her room was a MESS!  Things were thrown all over the place.  MK business cards littered every flat surface. Drawers were open, overturned on the floor, and… and… HER CLOTHES WERE ALL MESSED UP AND WRINKLY ON THE FLOOR!  Rebecca plopped down on the floor and cried.

She landed on a piece of paper on the floor, directly in front of the door, as though it had been slid under.  She picked it up.

_You have something we need.  You know to 
what lengths we will go to recover it.  If you 
are interested in making a deal, send your 
intentions to the following address:

Bearhunter443@hotmail.com

We WILL get it, one way or the other.  It 
would behoove you to hand it over before 
you get hurt._

Rebecca jumped when her cell phone rang.

---​
"I like it when you do that right therrrr..."

The bass bumped.  Quinton Stark III read a back page of the days old newspaper as he sat in his Beemer and moved to the music.  

*Shootout at Yorktown McDonalds*

Yorktown, VA - Shots were fired at the Yorktown 
McDonalds located at 17th and Victory Blvd Monday 
night.  Minor property damage occurred.  One male 
was killed and several restaurant patrons were 
hospitalized.  One is reported in critical condition.  
The identification of the slain man has not been 
released.  Police reports speculate that the violence 
was gang related.  A police investigation is ongoing.

“Guess that’s us.”  He hopped out of the car and tossed the newspaper in the trash as he headed into campus housing.  His room was as he’d left it, with the exception of a handwritten note that had been slipped under the door.

_You have something we need.  You know…._

When Quin finished reading the note he flipped open his cell phone, quick-dialed a number.  A teary voice answered.

“Hello?  This is…” Some sniffling.  “…Rebecca.”

---​
“Meadow, is that you?”

Meadow closed her dorm room door behind her.  “Yes.  What are you doing here, Alli?”  Meadow's voice was sharper than she intended.

Allison walked out of the bathroom.  “I was worried about you.  I haven’t seen you for a week.  And… um… are you ok, Meadow?”

“It’s been a rough week, Alli.”  Meadow sat down at the foot of her bed and started taking off her shoes.  She needed a shower and some alone time to meditate.

“You were studying at that McDonalds that got shot up?  Were you there when it happened?”

Meadow nodded.  She hiked up her skirt enough to show the bandages wrapped around her wounded leg.

“Oh Meadow!”  Allison hugged her.  After they embraced, Alli pulled away.  “You are in trouble, aren’t you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Other than the gunshot wound?”  Alli smiled.  Meadow smiled back and looked down.  “There was this note under your door when I came in.”  Alli handed Meadow a small handwritten note.

_You have something we need.  You know…_

Meadow read the note.  “I’ll be fine, Alli.  Some kind of practical joke.”

Allison stood up.  “If you think it’s ok then I believe you.  I have to go to study group.  Call me?”

Meadow nodded.  “We’ll do something this weekend.  Maybe tomorrow night?”  Allison smiled and nodded.  They hugged and Allison left.

A few minutes later Quin and Rebecca knocked on the door.  Meadow let them in.  

“Note?”

“Yes.  Both of you as well?”  Rebecca and Quin nodded.

“And someone tore my room apart!”  Rebecca cried.

Quin and Meadow both looked confused.  “Mine was fine,” said Quin.

“Mine too,” said Meadow.

“Well what are we going to do?”

“Cops,” said Meadow.

Rebecca nodded.  “We need to talk to the police.”

“You two go to the cops,” Quin agreed.  “I’m going to see what I can find out about Bearhunter.”

---​
_4:00 PM Friday, July 16th
Williamsburg, Virginia_

Devin pulled the ’69 Chevy pickup into the parking lot.  The engine sputtered a few times, groaned in agony, then fell asleep.  Devin sputtered and groaned just as much as he lowered himself out of the cab.  Good lord his head hurt!

The lights were out in his house.  No sound coming from inside.  He unlocked the door and entered.  Empty.  He checked every room just in case.  Nothing.  Lisa was gone.  Devin could feel the bottom drop out of his stomach.  It hadn’t hit him before.  His little sister was in danger because of him.  His answering machine flashed 3 at him.  He hit the PLAY button.

“Mr. Cole.  This is Don from Dominion Power.  We have not received your payment for this billing cycle…”

DELETE

“Mr. Cole.  This is Retta from Verizon Telephone Services.  We have still not received your payment….”

DELETE

“Mr. Cole.  Lisa is with us and she is being taken care of.  We will make sure she’s safe while you recover Sammy’s lost merchandise.”

Somehow, the bottom of Devin’s stomach dropped even farther.  He grabbed his baseball bat.  Sammy was going to get some Louisville Lovin’.

Almost to the truck, he put the bat away.  Calmer heads prevail.  Devin climbed in the truck and turned the key.  The old piece of crap took its time, but it started.  Time to go see Sammy.

---​
_4:30 PM Friday, July 16th
Yorktown, Virginia_

Armani finished his double-quarter-pounder and Coke.  Several of the windows were boarded over, but other than that the McDonalds was fully functional only four days after the shootout.  He contemplated calling a cab, but decided he’d rather walk back to his hotel room.

An hour later, and covered in sweat, Armani reached the top of the stairway leading to the second floor of the Motel 6.

“Armani Determan?”  Three cops were there, waiting at his hotel room door.

Armani looked around.  All three had pistols drawn.  But he’d done nothing wrong, had he?  “Yeah, that’s me.”  He put his hands up.

“Armani Determan, you are under arrest for the murder of Miguel Cervantes.  You have the right to remain silent.  If you…”  Armani did not struggle as he was read his rights, led to the waiting cruiser, and brought downtown.


----------



## Zelfast (Jul 18, 2004)

*Devin search for direction*

The old pick-up sputtered at the stoplight.  The red light just seemed to increase Devin’s complete annoyance and the bright sun did little for his pounding head ache.  These last few days had been very strange; bullets, blood, and the old familiar…money.  _Money, it always ended up there it seemed.  Jesus will this light ever change._  Devin’s head pounded but the tears slipping down his cheeks stemmed from another source.  His sister, a prisoner of that bastard Sammy Nickles, was gone and he had no way of knowing if he could ever get her back.  _Money…always the money.  Well Devin, this one isn’t going to be found in your parenting magazines is it._


	Devin lowered his head gently against the steering wheel.  _Lord, please give me the strength to see this through…for her not for me for her…Lisa…she is an innocent. _ His sobs broke his prayer for a few seconds, his shoulders rose and fell with each sputtering intake of breath.  _Please keep Sammy and his goons from harming her and show me what is right…And help me keep them from getting hurt…all of them._


HONK!  HONK!


	The light was green as Devin looked up.  His foot pressed down gently on the gas and the truck lurched forward only to sputter and stall as it rolled into the middle of the intersection.  The cars behind him began to honk their horns in protest.  One by one they sped around him as he got out of the truck and popped the hood.  Shaking his head he walked slowly to the bed of his truck and his toolbox.  The passers-by showed him their appreciation by flipping him the bird or cursing him as they sped off.  Coming back around the truck with a large wrench Devin looked in at the mass of metal crap that was his trucks engine.  He smashed the wench into the block twice for good measure then fiddled with the loose spark plug wires and then closed the hood.  _It could have been worse I guess._


	The truck started up a few minutes later and Devin sped off through the now red light, no one having even stopped to help him. _ I guess that’s your way of saying ok I have got your back son._


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Aug 2, 2004)

*“Tears in Hell” – Deals Made, Meetings Cancelled*

*“Tears in Hell” – Deals Made, Meetings Cancelled*

_5:30 PM Friday, July 16th
Newport News City Jail, Newport News, Virginia_

Armani was led out of his cell to a waiting room.  He sat at the table, hands still shackled, and waited for his visitor.  A few minutes later a professionally dressed young man entered the room.

“Nicky Nickels.”  He presented his right hand to Armani.  “I’m here to get you out of this trouble.  I suspect you know who I work for.”

Armani shook Nicky’s hand and they got down to business.

One hour later Armani was on the street, free for a while but twenty thousand dollars poorer.  He hoped it was a temporary setback.  He had a meeting that night with Sammy Nickels to discuss some business.  Nicky Nickels’ services were not free.

---​
_7:00 PM Friday, July 16th
Williamsburg, Virginia_

He’d stopped at Taco Bell to kill some time and cool his temper before visiting Sammy.  His truck had broken down on the way – twice.  By the time Devin Cole finally rolled into the seedy establishment that Sammy Nickels called his base of operations it was late and the establishment was empty, with the exception of the single bartender.  Devin pulled himself onto a stool and held his throbbing head.

“What’ll it be?”

“I need to see Sammy.”  The bartender ignored him for a moment.  He filled a pint and slid it towards Devin.  “He’ll be out in a while.  This one’s on the house.”

“Thanks.  First one’s always free, isn’t it?”

The bartender ignored him for good this time and wiped the bar.  The bar was immaculate.  The bartender still wiped.

A few minutes later the outside door opened and a tall, bulky figure entered the bar.  The figure approached Devin and pulled up an adjacent stool.

“Whatcha drinkin’?”

“The cheap stuff.”

“Bartender.  Get me a drink.”

The bartender grabbed a dirty glass, filled it, and slid it towards Armani Determan.  

“We both here for the same dude?”

Devin nodded.  They waited in silence.

---​
_5:00 PM Friday, July 16th
William & Mary Campus, Williamsburg, Virginia_

Quinton Stark III was leery as he entered the computer lab.  He didn’t spend much time here – some would say his grades showed it.  But he did know some of the people who spent a lot of time in here and he had an idea of what they could do for him.

“Heya Robby.  How’s it going?”

A lean young man crouched over a computer console in the corner of the room straightened up and looked warily around.  He adjusted his glasses and focused on Quin.

“Not bad.  How you doing?”

Quin had a seat next to Robby Bunt, one of the premier computer geeks on campus, and discussed what he needed.  Robby discussed what he needed.  The deal was made.

---​
_6:00 PM Friday, July 16th
11th Precinct, Williamsburg, Virginia_

Rebecca ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.  Meadow tried not to slap the insolent young cop.

“We’ve been here for an HOUR!  Have you even told anyone we’re waiting?”

The young cop glared at Meadow.  “Yes.  Have a seat.”

“I’ve had a seat for the last hour!  We are in DANGER!”

“Sit down, miss.”  Meadow and Rebecca scowled identical scowls at the cop and plopped themselves down on the miserably uncomfortable waiting seats.  

“They’re busy,” scowled Rebecca.  “Busy eating donuts and drinking coffee.”  She clicked on her cell phone and pretended to make a call.

A young police-woman entered the foyer.  “Miss McLean and Miss Michaels?”  Meadow and Rebecca faced her.  “My name is Sergeant Betty Richardson.  Please follow me.”  They did.

“Don’t tell her we have the bear,” whispered Meadow.  Rebecca nodded.

“You mentioned that, like, ten times.”

Sitting in front of Sgt. Richardson’s desk they recapped the events of Monday night, explained the threatening notes they had received, failed to mention that they still had the bear, learned that the police had closed the case on the McDonalds shooting and abduction.

“What!?  But Martin’s still missing!” shouted Rebecca.  “How can they close the case?”

“Shhh….”  Sgt. Richardson looked around the office.  Several of the other police were looking at the desk.  “We can’t talk about this.  The POLICE are no longer OFFICIALLY investigating this case.  That does NOT mean that NOBODY is investigating this case.  It would probably be best if we spoke about this somewhere else.”

Rebecca calmed down.  Her hands clasped her knees.  “We can meet at my room on campus tonight.”

“Isn’t your apartment wrecked?”

“You’re right, Meadow.”  Rebecca looked from Meadow back to Betty Richardson.  “We can meet at Meadow’s room.”  They gave Sgt. Richardson directions to the dorm and a time to meet.  8 PM.

They left the police station and headed towards Rebecca’s Grand Am.

“Think we should call Quin?” Rebecca said as she pulled out her keys.

“Do we have to?”

“Probably.”  

Meadow sighted and dialed some digits into her cell phone.

---​
_7:30 PM Friday, July 16th
Williamsburg, Virginia_

Devin and Armani watched a hulking but well-dressed figure walk from the back room of the bar and settle his large form into a chair.  “That him?”

Devin nodded.  “Let’s go see him.”  They sat down at Sammy Nickels’ table.  The bartender brought fresh beer before any words were exchanged.

“Gentlemen.  We have a problem.”

“You have my little sister.  That’s a problem.  It’s all I can do to not kill you right now.” 

“Calm down, Mr. Cole.  Lisa is perfectly safe.  In fact, she spent a lovely day at Busch Gardens today.  You lost a large portion of cash that belonged to me and I’m upset that you couldn’t have done a better job at protecting my belongings.”

“Yeah?  And how good a job would you do with a f***ing bullet in your head!?”

Sammy waved a dismissing hand at Devin.  “Mr. Determan here took care of that and ensured that the goods got to where they needed to go.”  Armani smiled proudly.  “But the process of recovering involved hiring one of my more expensive men.  For that, Mr. Cole, you owe me.”  Sammy Nickels turned his attention to Armani.  “Mr. Determan, I trust that Nicky has taken good care of you?”

“I’m here ain’t I?  Not in f***in’ jail.”

“Good.  So I suppose it is safe to say that you owe me.”  Armani nodded.  He knew how the criminal barter system worked.  “I need something recovered.  An Indian artifact.  A carved bear.”

Sammy explained that the bear had been in the possession of the old man kidnapped at the McDonalds.  He needed the artifact for a businessman he was working with.  He claimed not to know about who took the bear or where it was, but he had ideas about who might have a better idea.

“There were some college kids there with their professor.  They may have an idea of where the artifact could be found.  Recover it and we are square.”

“Where d’ya want it delivered?”  Armani asked.

“I’ll deliver it up his f***ing ass,” whispered Devin.

Sammy didn’t seem to hear.  “Just bring it here.  It will get to me.”

“You want a ribbon on it?”

“Thank you, Mr. Determan.  No.  That is all I have for you, Mr. Cole.”  Devin and Armani both stood to leave.  “Mr. Determan, if you would stay for a moment longer.”

Armani sat down as Devin strode out of the bar, slamming the door behind him.

“Yeah?”

“You killed a man on Monday.”

“I don’t give a f**k.  He deserved it.”

“That’s what I thought.”  Sammy smiled.  “That’s just the man I want for this job.  I DO know who was involved in the kidnapping.  Her name is Wendy Johnson.  I want her dead.”

“What’s it worth to you?”  Sammy named a number.  There were a lot of zeroes.  “You got my attention.”

“I suspect that when you find the bear artifact you will find her.  I imagine a man of your temperament will be able to find a way to get her head back to me.  The rest of her body is unnecessary.”

“I’ll get it.  We’ll find them college kids and go from there.”  Sammy nodded and Armani left.  Outside the bar he saw Devin parked in his pickup, trying to get it started.  Armani hopped in the passenger side.

“Give me a ride to see them kids.”  The engine sputtered and died..  Armani remembered briefly how to behave in society.  “Please.”

“On my way.”  The engine didn’t so much roar to life.  It sputtered.  It choked.  It retched.  Then it whimpered to life and they left the parking lot – destination William and Mary Campus.

---​
_8:00 PM Friday, July 16th
William & Mary Campus, Williamsburg, Virginia_

“What are you typing?”  Meadow asked.  She was sitting on the foot of her bed as Rebecca sat at Meadow’s computer, typing vigorously.

“Just a little e-mail about this bear.  Don’t worry, I’m being subtle.”

“Nobody else knows we have this thing, Rebecca.  I’d rather keep it that way.  I mean, somebody is after it and if they knew…”  Meadow shut her mouth as Quin walked into the dorm room.  He closed the door behind him.

“Hey girls.”  They greeted him.  “I have a friend of mine working on finding out about that e-mail address.  Hey, either of you know Jenny Patson?”

Rebecca and Meadow shook their heads.  “Why?” asked Rebecca.  

“Well, this guy doesn’t come free.  He’ll find out about the e-mail address I’m sure.  But in return I need to get him a date with this girl he’s got a crush on.  This Jenny.”

“Quite the little pimp aren’t you, Quin?”  Rebecca jibed.  She reviewed her e-mail one last time.


TO: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com>
FROM:  Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu>
SUBJ:  Bears that talk to dead people

Dear Mr. Edward,

I'm writing in the hopes that you can help me with an 
extremely urgent problem.  My fiance, who is a professor 
at a well-known university, has recently found an artifact 
that is reported to speak to the dead. Since this is also 
your line of work (which I love!), I was wondering if you'd 
heard of it.  (If not, perhaps you could ask some of your 
clients if they've spoken with a bear recently?)  If they 
have, or if you know of it, I'm very interested in any 
information you can give me.  I would certainly grant 
permission for you to use my story in an episode.  

Sincerely,
Rebecca Michaels

P.S. I'm in a hurry, and in danger, so it would be best if 
you respond by e-mail.  But I'd really appreciate it if you 
could also send a paper copy of your response, signed, 
by mail.  Thank you, RM  


Rebecca clicked SEND.  She logged off the computer.  “All done.  Now were is that nice Sergeant lady?”

“What are we here for, anyway?  What did you lovely ladies find out at the police station?”

“Well we dealt with this big fat jerk who wouldn’t let us talk to anyone for, like, an HOUR, and he had bad skin.  He could really use some of my…”

Meadow interrupted.  “ANYWAY… we got to see a lady who we’re meeting tonight.  Betty.”

“Who’s Betty?” Quinton asked.

Someone knocked on the door.  “That might be her.”  Rebecca got up and walked to the door.  She peered through the peephole.  “Drats.  It’s those thugs from the McDonalds.  Should I let them in?”

“C’mon, let us in.”  A gravelly voice came through the door.

“Don’t you thugs have other things to worry about besides us?” Rebecca said to the peephole.

“Damn it, I’ll break the door down!”  “Shut up, Armani.”  “Bunch of pansy college students.”  “They might be doing something gay.  Lots of gay people on this campus.”  “Let us in!  We don’t want to break in on anything gay, but we got to talk.”

Rebecca opened the door.  “I’m not gay,” objected Quin.  Armani and Devin stood in the doorway, looking inside but not looking too hard.  Meadow objected to their presence as Armani insisted that he needed to talk to “all you gay college kids.”

Rebecca’s phone rang.  The arguing continued as she answered it.

“Hello, this is Rebecca Michaels.”  There was silence for a moment.  In the background Rebecca could hear car noise, some strained breathing.  "Hello?"

“Ms. Michaels, this is Sgt. Richardson.  I can’t make our meeting tonight.  They’re on to me.  They’re following me right now…”  The phone clicked off.

Rebecca clicked her phone off.  The argument in the hallway had bounced between “why should we help you?” to “how can you help us?” to “why are you such thugs?” to “where is the bear?” to “why don’t you just go away?”  It was at the “why don’t I just beat the answers out of you” stage when Rebecca interrupted.  

“Betty can’t make it.”

Meadow looked worried.  “Why not?”

“Who’s Betty?”  Quin asked.

Rebecca ignored Quin and faced Meadow.  “She says someone is following her or something.”

The stream of arguments continued.  “Just help me get the goddamn bear.”  “Look, I just want to get my sister back.”  “Are you gay?”  “We can help you if you help us.”   “Who’s Betty?”  

The flood of voices was interrupted by the screeching of tires and the SLAM of metal on metal from outside.  More squealing tires as the group ran down the stairs to investigate.  Outside they saw a large black pickup peeling out of the parking lot and a virtually destroyed Toyota Tercel crunched against a light post.

“There’s someone in there!” Rebecca shouted.  Devin sprinted towards the car, the others a few steps behind.  A woman was in the driver’s seat, pinned in by seatbelt, airbag, and crushed metal.  Devin yanked on the door with all his might.  Nothing.

“Back off, little man.”  Armani shoved Devin out of the way and wretched on the door.  It gave, but only slightly.  “Ok, need help.”

“Just use a crowbar, man!”  Quin made a prying motion towards Armani.

“What, you think I carry a f***in’ crowbar in my pocket?”

Meadow chimed in.  “You’re a thug!  Isn’t that what thugs do?”

Armani opened his mouth.  Closed it.  Opened it.  Closed it.  Cursed under his breath.

Devin’s attention shifted from the growing puddle of fuel at his feet to the jammed door.  “We’ve got to get her out of here!”  

Armani and Devin threw their collective strength into the door and slowly it groaned open.  

“Get her out!” Devin shouted.  “We can’t hold it for long.”  A flicker of flame was visible under the accordioned hood and the puddle of fuel at their feet was spreading.

Meadow and Rebecca carefully tried to pull the body from the car, avoiding projecting metal.  “We’ve got her!”  

Armani and Devin released the door, which SLAMMED shut inches from Meadow’s face.   Armani hefted the woman’s body up on his shoulder and the group sprinted towards the protection of the housing building.  The fire and fuel connected as Quinton, bringing up the rear, reached the doorway and the explosion hurled him into the building.

Armani carefully set the woman’s body down on the ground.  She was breathing weakly.  “Stupid broad.  Chicks can’t drive.”

“That’s Betty,” said Meadow.  “I guess whoever was after her almost got her.” 

“Who the hell is Betty?” asked Quin.

Meadow sighed loudly as she helped Devin apply first aid.  “Pay attention, Quin.  We’ve been discussing her all evening.”


----------



## ledded (Aug 3, 2004)

Puppy Kicker said:
			
		

> _“What are you typing?” Meadow asked. She was sitting on the foot of her bed as Rebecca sat at Meadow’s computer, typing vigorously._
> 
> _“Just a little e-mail about this bear. Don’t worry, I’m being subtle.”_
> <snip>
> ...



 
Okay, *that* little scene just made me nearly spit coffee all over my monitor.  Nice touch.

The story is coming along quite well, your characters are developing in very interesting and 'normal' ways, and the plot has already got a couple neat little twists in it.  I'm liking it.

One question; do your players play these characters like they are written, dialog and all, or do you take a little bit of 'poetic license' with their PC's based on how they act?


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Aug 4, 2004)

ledded, the group is used to mainly combat in a fantasy game.  So for the first session (and the first time they'd ever played a Modern game) there was a lot of dialogue derived from what they did and how I thought their characters would talk.  Frankly, that's why (in my opinion) the first session just wasn't as funny.  I just can't make these things up that well.    There were, however, a couple taken straight from their mouths...  

“Please don’t hurt me, just take my purse. There’s a cell phone… some money… a nice shade of lipstick?”  (said as Rebecca's player was reading out her equipment list) “Take it, punk. Take it all.”  “Nice toss.” (said as Meadow's player gave Rebecca's player a legitimate angry scowl)

... for example.

The second session was pretty much verbatim as far as the clever and witty dialogue went.  The players had gotten a handle on their characters and started having fun with them.  Plus, we have an official "wit recorder" so whenever someone said something cool it would get written down.  When I went back to write the story hour I typed in the quotes first and then started writing the story around them.  This is working well I think.  Otherwise I might have forgotten quotes like “You want a ribbon on it?” or the “What, you think I carry a f***in’ crowbar in my pocket?” “You’re a thug! Isn’t that what thugs do?” scene.

As far as the non-witty "filler" dialogue to present information to the reader or advance a long scene, I pretty much make that up the way I think their character's would say it.  I stick in whatever they said that was cool during that scene and then type in the filler around it.  I'm good at non-witty.  The players are good at witty.  It's what I call teamwork.  

I think it's only going to get better from here now as everyone gets more into the characters and they get stuck in wierder and wierder situations.  Stay tuned!

* As for the e-mail.  I'll just let Rebecca reply about that.  I think the girl gets a certain perverse pleasure out of watching the GM almost choke on his drink laughing.

** Oh, and if anyone happens to have d20 Modern stats for John Edward, well I know one GM who suddenly needs them.


----------



## pogre (Aug 4, 2004)

Well, your post in my SH led me here and I'm glad it did.

One of the things I struggle with in modern settings is the question of how I would bring the group together. You did a great job of bringing a diverse bunch of folks together in an interesting way. The whole thing reminds me of a CoC campaign I ran years ago...


This is a long way of saying - great job!


----------



## ledded (Aug 4, 2004)

Puppy Kicker said:
			
		

> ledded, the group is used to mainly combat in a fantasy game.



Ours was too before Modern.  OldDrewId's Medallions d20 Modern really introduced us all to playing normal, flawed characters who did more than just whack things with a big stick.  We like it a lot more that way now; games are much more interesting when there is a little more than 'open the next door, whack the baddie, take his stuff, lather, rinse, repeat'.



> “What, you think I carry a f***in’ crowbar in my pocket?” “You’re a thug! Isn’t that what thugs do?”



Heh.  My character gets this kind of stuff a *lot*.  But our in-character bickering and prodding adds a lot to our game and subsequently our Story Hour.  It's great fun.  Your folks seem to be doing quite well in that department.



> I stick in whatever they said that was cool during that scene and then type in the filler around it. I'm good at non-witty. The players are good at witty. It's what I call teamwork.



That is very much how I write my own story hour .  Most anything amusing was taken straight from a player, the rest I sort of fill in from things they said and their general attitudes.  In our modern game we actually started taping the sessions, then Pierce transcribes them later for OldDrewId.  We taped some of mine, but I don't have the patience to wade through the tapes so I just write how I see fit.  



> ** Oh, and if anyone happens to have d20 Modern stats for John Edward, well I know one GM who suddenly needs them.



A bunch of Charismatic with some levels in Personality.  Waaaaay maxed out bluff.  He's gotta have some kind of enchantment or illusion magic going  



			
				Pogre said:
			
		

> One of the things I struggle with in modern settings is the question of how I would bring the group together. You did a great job of bringing a diverse bunch of folks together in an interesting way. The whole thing reminds me of a CoC campaign I ran years ago...



I've actually found that it's sometimes easier and almost always more interesting and believable in a modern setting myself.  Our group was so tired of the '5 adventurers with disparate personalities and professions meet up at a Tavern...'.  In a modern setting, you can draw from your own personal experience, movies, books etc on the strange or not-so-strange events that draw people together, whether they be traumatic or not.

Good work Puppy Kicker.  You have a good SH going and it sounds like you have a really fun group to work with.


----------



## Retto (Aug 4, 2004)

*Good stuff!*

Been a while since I've been in here.  Originally just looking for ideas, but now I'm just enjoying the stories.  Thanks for the tips on running a modern adventure and keep it coming!


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## Puppy Kicker (Aug 6, 2004)

*Character Stats*

For anyone who has been wondering about the numbers associated with our rabble of... er... heroes (?), I've posted their character information to the Rogue's Gallery for public consumption.  As they get levels I'll try to keep it updated.  I also intend to add the important NPCs to the Rogue's Gallery once they are no longer of great interest to my players.

Armani Determan

Devin Cole

Meadow McLean

Quinton Stark III

Rebecca Michaels


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Aug 7, 2004)

Thanks for the kind words ledded and Retto!  Keeps me going during those long typing nights when the words aren't flowing easily and the cats are meowing and the wife is saying "The typing is keeping me awake!"



			
				pogre said:
			
		

> The whole thing reminds me of a CoC campaign I ran years ago...




Do I hear hints of another story hour?  We can always use more good modern stories, and if you have minis to demonstrate the proceedings, even better!


----------



## Rebecca M (Aug 7, 2004)

*Not bad*

Hey PK!  (What's with the name, anyway?)  Good job on the story.  I like how you've used the things that really happened in the game--and abbreviated the long arguments.    I do have to point out that you've misrepresented Rebecca a little.  She's not quite as interested in skin care as you make her out to be.     Other than that, nice work!


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Aug 8, 2004)

*“Tears in Hell” – Pizza Party*

_8:30 PM Friday, July 16th
William and Mary Campus, Williamsburg, Virginia_

The flames from the explosion had died down and a crowd was gathered outside.  The campus was fairly empty during summer courses but it seemed that everyone within a five mile radius had shown up to witness the excitement.  Quin wandered through the crowd, questioning everyone who would talk to him about what they'd seen.  Nobody had seen much.  By the time he returned to the group he had very little information.

"A big black pickup chased that car into the parking lot, then crashed into it.  Then it backed up and rammed it again.  Then it drove off.  Tinted windows.  New model Ford.  Nobody got the plates."  A frown crossed Quinton's face.  "And the windshield on my Beemer is all f****d up.  A chunk of her car landed on it."

"That's just horrible!"  Meadow said.

"Well it's insured.  It's just going to be a hassle to deal with.  I mean, the shop..."  
Meadow looked genuinely appalled.  "No I mean, about the attack."  Meadow noticed the impish look in Quinton's eyes.  "Oh... Quin... just... please... shut up."

"What?"  Quin shrugged and grinned toothily.

Emergency vehicles had begun to show up and Sergeant Richardson was rushed into an ambulance.  In addition to the ambulance and fire truck, there were police questioning the crowd.

Meadow looked around at the growing number of cop cars.  “Uh, should we be going now?”  

“They’re the police, Meadow.  They’re here to help us.”

“Rebecca, HELLO!  Who do you think was after Betty in the first place?  Probably other cops.  And the kidnapping case was closed after less than a week?  I don’t think cops are our best friends right now.”

Armani was also looking around nervously at the growing number of flashing blue and red lights.  “Listen, gay people, I gotta get goin'.  Dev and I are gonna go snag some pizza.”

“You buying?”  Devin asked.

“Yeah.”

“Ok."  Devin spoke to the rest of the goup over his shoulder as he and Armani headed for the truck.  "We’re going to go get some pizza.”

Meadow and Quinton left a short time later, avoiding the police questioning.  Rebecca gave her statement and followed them.  They all met at Uno's Pizzeria, coincidentally the same place Devin and Armani had gone to.

---​
_10:30 PM Friday, July 16th
Uno’s Pizzeria, Williamsburg, Virginia_

"I know this chick, Wendy Johnson, was one of them that was pointing a gun at us.  It ain't none of your business how I know," Armani said through a mouthful of extra pepperoni.  Three of the other people at the table sighed or growled in frustration.  Devin quietly listened to the proceedings while he concentrated on his own ham and pineapple (paid for by Armani).

"Dude, how do we have any way of knowing you're not just BSing us?"  Quinton asked.  "We don't have any clue who this girl is."

“I do.”

Everyone at the table looked at Meadow.  “Oh?”  “Yeah?”  “How?”  “You going to eat that?"  "No, go ahead." "How do you know her?"

“She was a member of WoWaM.”  Meadow pronounced it wow-‘em.  

A universally confused look washed across the faces at the table.

“WoWaM,” enunciated Meadow.  “Wiccans of William and Mary.  It’s a Wicca group on campus.”

“A Wicca group?” Rebecca asked.  “Like witchcraft.  You’re in that club, right Meadow?  Did you know her well?”

Meadow nodded.  “Yeah.”  She shook her head.  “No.  I mean, yeah, I’m in WoWaM.  But I didn’t know Wendy very well.  She was in the coven when I first joined.  But then she left.  Left campus completely I think.”

“So we lookin’ for a chick with warts and a pointy hat.  Easy enough,” said Armani.

“We don’t all wear... I don't have… Damn it.  Just shut up.  You men are all the same.”  Meadow scowled into her iced tea.

“Ok, so we have an idea of who might have been after us, now we just need to find her,” Quin recapped.  “And we have someone tracking that Bearhunter e-mail address.  So hopefully we’ll get some clues about that tomorrow.  What else have we got?”

“We’ve got the license plate number for the van, or at least part of it.”  Rebecca reminded him.

“Right.  We’ll see what we can do with that tomorrow.  Anything else before we head to bed?”

“I’ve got some fear for my life going on here, if that counts,” said Meadow.  “The cops dropped the whole investigation, and then the one cop who was willing to help us gets attacked.  Someone wants this case dropped and I’m concerned that we may be next on their hit list.”

“The pointy hat chick here has it right.  I don’t trust these cop motherf***ers a bit.”

“I don’t think the policemen are as bad as you think, Meadow.  But just to be safe perhaps it’s best if we stay somewhere besides campus tonight," said Rebecca.

They all agreed to find a place to stay, far from the campus, where they could discuss their plans in safety.  After a short discussion it was determined that the Budget Inn on Buckaroe Beach would be a perfect place to lay low.

Devin finished his pizza.  “Who’s paying for the room?  Not me…”


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## Puppy Kicker (Aug 8, 2004)

I just posted pictures of the characters in their introduction section (on page 1) as well as their rogue's gallery entries (links posted a couple entries ago.)  If you've been wondering what they look like now's your chance to find out!


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## Q Stark III (Aug 9, 2004)

Word up!
This is Q here yep thats right boys and girls the one the only the original. I'd just like to say that this is the first time I've played with this system and it rocks. I enjoy a modern setting alot more than I imagined I would. That and what better type of character to play but a stuck up rich college kid.


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## LostSoul (Aug 9, 2004)

Just finished reading.  Very good stuff!  I'm starting to grow fond of these Modern d20 stories.


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## Puppy Kicker (Aug 10, 2004)

*“Tears in Hell” – Dueling E-mails, Road Trip*

*“Tears in Hell” – Dueling E-mails, Road Trip*

_10:30 AM Saturday, July 17th
William and Mary Campus, Williamsburg, Virginia_

Quin sank into a chair in the computer lab.  He was drained to begin with and all this accursed technology and thinking that emanated from the computer nerds was just sucking the last bit of energy out of him.  It had been a late night, an exciting night, an exhausting night.  

“Any luck, Robbie?”  Quin asked the hunched figure next to him.  He ran a hand through his frost-tipped hair.

Robby Bunt quickly clicked the minimize button on the screen he was browsing as he suddenly noticed his companion.  "Oh, uh, hi Quin."

“Whatcha looking at there, Robbie?”

“Nothing.”

“Robbie.  I am having a bit of trouble trusting people these last few days.  You don't want to hide anything from me.”  Quin stared, intimidatingly.  “What are you trying to hide?”

Robbie looked a little flustered and opened the window.  A banner flashed across the top of the page …HOT GEEK ON GEEK ACTION…

Quin smiled.  “Way to go, Robbie!  You can go ahead and hide that again.”  Quin looked over his shoulder, worried.  She wasn't here yet.  “Yeah, close it.  Good.  So, back to the original question.  Any luck?”

“I found out a little.  You have any luck?”  Robbie stopped typing.  Quin noticed a distinct odor wafting from him.  Good ol’ Robbie “Blunt” Bunt had obviously taken a little smoke break.

“Haven’t had the time to talk to Jenny just yet, dude.  But rest assured, you will have yourself a date soon enough.”  Robbie looked disappointed, so Quin pulled out his hidden gun.  “Have you met Rebecca?”  Quin pointed towards the doorway, where Rebecca Michaels had just appeared.

“…….”  Robbie said.

“She’s working with me on this little investigation.  She’s interested in the e-mail address too.”

“…….”  Robbie continued.

Rebecca noticed Quin and approached the computer desk.  She presented a perfectly manicured hand to Robbie.  “Robbie I assume?”  She flashed a winning smile, perfectly framed by Raisin Berry(TM), and daintily presented her hand.  “It is such a pleasure to meet you!”

“……..”  Robbie enunciated, fluently.

“So what have you found out that might help us, Robbie?”

“Well the address, bearhunter443@hotmail.com, was created just a couple days ago.  Honestly, I don’t even see why.  There has been hardly any activity on it since it was created.  Not a single e-mail out, and only one received.”  He looked at Rebecca, googly-eyed and proud of himself.  “And I would know, because I know my computers.”

“What was that one e-mail?”  Quin asked.

“Sorry, I couldn’t actually open the e-mail.  All I could see was where it came from.  It was… let me see…”  Robbie was clicking and typing furiously as he talked.  “There it is,  michaelsr@wandm.edu.”

“Ah, that was the one I sent last night from the hotel,” said Rebecca.  “Just said that we don’t have the bear and to leave us alone.”  

Quin nodded.  “OK, so that’s not very helpful.  What else?”

“Well somebody checked it last night.  This was before you sent your e-mail, Rebecca.”  Robbie purred her name the way a retarded cat purrs as it’s choking to death on something really tasty.  “Normally, I wouldn’t be able to do much with that, but they were on this network!  The i.p. was…”  Robbie noticed the suddenly glazed looks that crossed Quin and Rebecca’s faces.  “Uh… anyway.  The person who logged on to check the mail logged on from this campus, or at least onto a computer that is somehow connected to the campus.”

“Well, who was it!?!”  Rebecca gasped.

“Uh… there’s the problem.  I recognized the i.p. as having the routing...”  Glazed looks.  “Er… basically, they logged off before I could catch them.  But I’ve been keeping an eye on it, just in case.”

Quin started to get up to leave.  Rebecca followed.  Desperately, Robbie grabbed at Rebecca’s sleeve.  “Wait!  Don't leave.  What if they log on soon to check for messages?  We could catch them!  You should stay.”

Quin and Rebecca sat down again.  “Sure thing, Robbie.  We’ll stay for a little bit.”

A half hour later they had been effectively bored to tears by tales of hacking and i.p. this and lan that and bla bla bla.  Quin was about to leave when…

“Someone logged onto it!  Let me just…”  Robby tapped some keys, moved the mouse, clicked a few times.  “Yeah.  The i.p. is…” He typed some more.  Moused some more.  “Yup! … logged onto a campus account.  Login was ‘johnsonw’.  Dunno who that is.  But definitely someone on the campus network.”

Quin and Rebecca looked at each other.  “Wendy Johnson.”  Rebecca stated.

Quin nodded.  “Hey, Robbie.  You manage to find out anything about that license plate?”

“Oh, yeah man.  Totally.  It’s pretty easy to find out the information about a car from the license plate.  Of course, you guys only had half of it so I found out the information about a LOT of cars.  This is the list though.”  He opened another file.  “No Dodge Caravans though.  Maybe you got the numbers wrong.”

“Or maybe someone changed the plates.  Look!”  Rebecca pointed at a name near the beginning of the list.  “It’s a Toyota Camry, but the last 3 numbers fit.”  Her Berry Bliss(TM) fingernail rested on the screen, directly below a name.  

JOHNSON, WENDY S.        TOYOTA       CAMRY       1998           NC ERF-544

“What are the chances you could find me a home address for this name?”  Quin asked.

“You’re such a computer noob, Quin.  Anybody can do that.”  By the time he had finished his brief insult, an address had popped up on the computer screen.  Rebecca scribbled it down in a small red notebook.  “Is that all you guys need?”

“Word,” said Quinton.

“I think it’s time for a trip to North Carolina.”  Rebecca said, as she rose from her seat.  Quin rose as well and rushed out the door.  Rebecca planted a quick kiss on Robbie’s cheek before she jogged after Quinton.  “Thanks, sweetie.”

Robbie “Blunt” Bunt had to go find some alone time.

---​
_12:00 AM Saturday, July 17th
Budget Inn, Newport News, Virginia_

"Glad you're back.  This hasn't been an entirely fun wait." Meadow said as Quin and Rebecca entered the too small and slightly smelly hotel room.

“Whatever, love, I’m sure a trooper like you can handle these little boys.”  Quin said as he rushed past her and into the bathroom.  He slammed the door shut behind him.

Devin tied off a new set of bandages on his head as he spoke up.  “Like Sabrina the Teenage B*tch here has room to complain.  We’ve been quietly hanging out while she talked to her friend…”

“Gay friend.”  Armani interrupted.

“Yeah.  Gay friend.  Talked to her all morning.  Us ‘thugs’ didn’t say a word to her.  What’s with Quin?”  Devin asked, waving at the bathroom door.

“Oh, he’s been complaining the entire ride here.  Starbucks.  _Venti._  Times two.”  Rebecca shrugged.  “But we’ve got some GREAT information!”  Rebecca filled them in on what they had discovered from talking to Robbie.  “We’re thinking of doing a road trip!  We can go down there and check out her place.  See if we can find some clues!”

“Uh huh.”  Devin said, nodding slowly.  “And what if she, or her gun-toting friends, are there when we arrive?”

“We know she's not there because she logged on from campus, or at least close to campus.  Oh, what’s the worst that can happen?”

Devin pointed at the bandages around his head.  “I can think of some bad things.”

Rebecca smiled sweet-and-sourly at Devin.  “I know your noggin’ hurts, honey, but it’s the only lead we have and that means the only chance we have to get Martin and Lisa back.”

“I’m sold,” said Devin.  “When do we leave?”  The toilet flushed and the bathroom door opened.  Quin staggered out, looking much relieved.

"Let's leave now.  I want that Wendy Johnson b****'s head on a f***ing platter!"  Armani slammed his enormous fists together.

"We're going there to investigate, not to kill people, you big dumb thug!"  Rebecca shouted.

"I'll kill whoever the f*** I want to, little girl."

Quin stepped between the two.  "Calm down.  We can all work this out."

"I will NOT be part of this group!  I will NOT help this criminal murder someone!"

"Dumb little girl."

Rebecca stormed to the door and hurled it open.  "I'm done here.  And I'm done with you."  She said, glaring at Armani.

"B**** is going to die, with or without your help."

Rebecca slammed the door behind her.

The door almost hit Quin in the nose as he rushed out after her.  "Rebecca, stop."

Rebecca spun around, face flushed and eyes glaring.  "He's a murderer, isn't he?  How can we work with him?"

"He's just loud.  All bark, you know?"  Quin put his hand on Rebecca's shoulder.  "We need your help, here, Becka.  And Armani, thug or not, can help us as well."

"He's going to get someone killed.  I can't have that on my conscience."

"We don't have a lot of people on our side right now, Rebecca.  We need his help.  And we need your help.  None of us want to see someone else get killed.  We'll all keep him in line.  Promise."  Quin winked at Rebecca.  "I'm a pretty tough dude when I need to be."

Rebecca smiled.  "No you're not."  She approached the hotel room door.  "I'll give this a shot.  I need to find Martin."  She opened the door and walked back in.

“Thanks for leaving me with the thugs,” Meadow scowled, as Rebecca and Quin entered.

Rebecca stepped up, face to chest with Armani.  "We're working together.  But understand this, you don't kill anyone."  She turned around to face the others.  "We taking my car?”  Rebecca asked.

“Mine’s not fit to drive.  Windshield’s all f***ed up.”  Quin said.

“Mine’s not fit to drive either,” said Devin.  “Entire vehicle is terminally f***ed up.”

“Mine it is.  Let’s go.”  They all started for the door.

“SHOTGUN!”

Everyone looked at Meadow, started by the forcefulness of her demand.  “I have long legs, girlie.  I get the front seat.” Armani insisted.

“The thug has a point, Meadow.”  Rebecca said.  “You ARE the shortest one here.  Plus I don't like having him behind me.”

Meadow looked intently at Rebecca.  “I get car sick.”

“Oh, no.  I have great air conditioning!  You’ll be fi…”

“I … get … car SICK … when I ride… in the BACK seat… of your CAR.”  Meadow enunciated every syllable.

“Oh….”  Rebecca slowly nodded, getting it at last.  “Meadow gets shotgun.  Let’s go.”

They drove for three hours, and Meadow didn’t get sick.


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## Rebecca M (Aug 10, 2004)

Puppy Kicker said:
			
		

> *“Tears in Hell” – Dueling E-mails, Road Trip*
> 
> “Thanks for leaving me with the thugs,” Meadow scowled, as Rebecca and Quin entered.




Meadow's comment and perfect delivery provided much-welcomed comic relief.  The argument had been pretty tense (and overly long--nice job putting in only the important parts, PK!)  but it was important for the characters.  Armani and Rebecca's relationship became quite cold and suspicious (who didn't see that coming between a mercenary street punk and a good-girl college student?!).  Rebecca and Quin, on the other hand, became actual friends instead of competitors in the Mr/Ms Charisma pageant.  It did help that Quin is the only one with a gun and he promised to use it on Armani as necessary.


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## Devin Cole (Aug 10, 2004)

*Tears in Hell....and at the bank*

As a long time lover of the d&d game i was a little worried about playing in modern but with the great work of the game master and some wonderful friends and players this game has been nothing but fun.  Im very impressed and i do pray that we all have many more chances to see me not be able to afford anything and get shot in the head...

Thank you PK...............but i have a question.....with my wealth of three can I afford a bottle of liquid band-aid.  I think im gonna need it and these bandages are really cramping my style.


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## Rebecca M (Aug 10, 2004)

Awwww, poor Devin. I'm sure Moneyboy would buy it for you, but then there's that whole "no charity" thing you have going.   

By the way, I liked the post you did a while back about Devin's "inner struggles".  For some reason I hadn't seen it until now.  Enjoyed seeing what someone else was thinking!


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## ledded (Aug 11, 2004)

Niiiiice update.  I especially liked the touches with Robbie "Blunt".  And the dialogue just keeps getting better too.  Keep up the good work, it sounds like ya'll have a good group to game with.


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## Rebecca M (Aug 12, 2004)

ledded said:
			
		

> I especially liked the touches with Robbie "Blunt".




I liked that too.  One of the players christened Robbie "Blunt," then the reason for the nickname sort of evolved throughout the session.  It was a fun conversation.


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## Puppy Kicker (Aug 13, 2004)

*“Tears in Hell” – Opening a Door the Long Way*

*“Tears in Hell” – Opening a Door the Long Way*

_3:00 PM Saturday, July 17th
Oceanview Community, Duck, North Carolina_

The five investigators sat in the car as the engine idled and the sea breeze whistled through the windows.  They were parked on a curving back road in front of several large beach condos, a few houses down from the address belonging to one Wendy Johnson.  The sounds of the beach and the vacationers playing on it floated over some dunes, reminding them that this was a very busy area.

“Seems like a pretty busy area,” said Quin.

“Uh huh.  Lots of rich mother****ers rent these kinda places for the summer.  Good place to make a quick buck if you’re fast enough, or mean enough.”

“You appall me,” Rebecca said to Armani.  To the rest of the car, “So what are we going to do?  The curtains are all closed on the place Wendy supposedly lives at.  There is no hint of her car anywhere.”

“Let’s break the f*** in.”

Rebecca ignored him.  “I think we should go knock on the door.  See if anyone’s there.  If so, we talk our way in and look around.  If not, well, we’ll think of different options.”

“I don’t think knocking on the door is the best plan.  Chances are she’s going to recognize us.”  Devin said.  “Then what’s she going to do?  Shoot us in the head, that’s what.”

Rebecca shut down the car and popped the trunk.  “I don’t think she’ll recognize us.”

As Rebecca was applying a masterful coat of disguising makeup and hair highlights to herself and Quin, the group discussed their plan.

“You and Quinton will be trying to talk your way in while Devin and I wait at the car for a quick getaway if things go south.”  Meadow summarized.  “But that leaves one big hole in the plan.”

“What’s that?” asked Quin.

Meadow pointed at Armani.  “That hole.  What is he going to do?”

“I’m going up to the house with them two, witch-girl.”

“You’re the last person I want up there as we try to bluff our way into her home.”

“How ‘bout I try not to talk too much,” said Armani.

“Good idea,” replied Rebecca.  “But no.  Quin and I will go.  You stay back here.”

“Yeah, you can protect Meadow and Devin,” said Quin.  “And if you hear screams and gunshots and bloody murder then you know that you can rush to our aid and be right in your own element.”

“How come we have to be protected?”  Devin asked.  “I think you two need to be protected more.”

“Yeah.”  Meadow agreed.  “You two definitely need the protection more than we do.”

“Fine!”  Rebecca’s hands were on her hips and her jaw jutted out aggressively.  “You come up there with us.  But you stay out of sight and if you kill anyone I’m going to be MAD MAD MAD!”

“Alright, so we know who’s going.” Devin said.  “And if you guys need to run, we’ll be here as the wheelmen.”

“Wheelpersons.”  Meadow corrected.

“Yeah.  Now if nobody is home, then we try to come up with an alternate plan.”

Thus planned, the strategy was executed.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.  Quinton rapped on the door.  He and Rebecca stood in the doorway, looking for all the world like nothing more threatening than a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses out for some soul saving.  In fact, they looked considerably less threatening than that.  Hiding around the corner was someone who was quite threatening, and would probably have made the average Jehovah’s Witness change his religion.

Armani hissed at them.  “Hey!  Gay people.  Anyone answering?”  His attempt at a whisper failed.

“Nobody.”  Quin continued to rap on the door, now breaking down to a funky beat.  Rebecca squinted through closed blinds, trying to see any hint of what awaited them inside the house.  She waved down to the Devin and Meadow.  They stopped the car and climbed the stairs.

“What’s up?”  Devin asked?

Quin gave Devin and Meadow the Reader’s Digest.  “Nobody home.  Door’s locked.  Don’t have key.”

“Any ideas on how to get in?”  Meadow asked.  

“If I had the right tools I could open this door,” said Rebecca.  “But I don’t.”

“The right tools?” Quin asked.  “Like a crowbar?”

“Not really.  Um.  Nevermind.”

“I can open the f***in’ door for you, and I don’t need no crowbar.”

“Well if Armani can open the door, what are we waiting for?”  Quin asked.

“When Armani says ‘open the door’ he means ‘OPEN THE DOOR’ in the aggressive sense,” explained Meadow.  “Like splinters and shattered glass and jail time.”

They all noted the vacationers who regularly walked by the building.  “I don’t think Armani’s way would avoid detection.”  Devin said.  “Maybe as a last resort when it gets much later.”

Armani smiled.  “We can wait.”

Rebecca sheeshed.  “I’m SURE there’s another option.”

“Well you go ahead and figure it out then, girlie.  In the meantime, I’ll warm myself up for some f***in’ door opening.”  Armani cracked his knuckles.

“Let’s discuss this somewhere slightly less suspicious.  People are going to get worried about a gang of people hanging out in front of an unoccupied home.”  Devin suggested.

They all returned to the car and sat in silence.

Quinton broke the quiet.  “Maybe we ought to just hang out here and see if anyone comes by.  I mean, if this is some kind of witch hangout where they do their sacrifices and stuff, they probably come back here regularly.  Like with goats and all.”

“Witches don’t just go around sacrificing animals!” Meadow growled.

“Then what do they do with all the people they kidnap?”  Quin asked.  “I mean, sacrifice just seems like the witchly thing to do if you’ve got a bunch of extra kidnap victims lying around and nothing to do with them.”

“Sounds logical to me,” said Devin.

Meadow seethed.

“I guess waiting is as good a plan as any we have right now.” Rebecca said.

“We should wait 'til it gets dark.  Then I can open the door.”

“Looks like we have plans B and C now.”  Quin said.  “Can we change the radio station?”

The radio had scanned through the entire radio spectrum countless times by the time Meadow tugged on Rebecca’s shirt and they got out of the car to talk.  Armani, Quin and Devin stayed inside to argue about the radio station.  After a couple of minutes Rebecca and Meadow got back in.

“Meadow and I need to head back to Williamsburg while you big boys play private investigator.  I’ll be back this evening to pick you up.  Don’t get yourself in too much trouble.”

“Why do you have to go back?  That’s going to be, like, six hours.”

“I have somewhere I need to be.”

“Where?”

“She just has somewhere she needs to be.  I’ll be back.  It’s not like this stakeout needs all of us here anyway.”

“Oh, sure.  Get out of here.”

As Meadow and Rebecca drove off, the guys looked around uncomfortably.  

“I think we stand out.”  Armani said.

“If by ‘we’ you mean ‘you’ then I would have to agree.”  Quin pseudo-agreed.  “Let’s go find a place to hang out that’s a bit less conspicuous.”

About an hour later, having wandering all along the beach, up and down the road, and finally to the gatehouse of the beach community, they returned to Wendy Johnson’s house.

“I can’t believe he bought it, man.”  Devin was still amazed.

“I can’t believe I don’t get to break the damn door down.”  Armani complained.

“Hey, I just have a way with words.  The old guy was worried about little Miss Johnson and I just had to play on those fears to get the key.  It’s all very simple if you know what you’re doing.”

Quin turned the key and the lock opened.  He pushed open the door to Wendy Johnson’s home and flicked on the light.

“Honey, I’m home!”

“B**ch, we here to kill you.”

Neither greeting elicited a response.  The rooms were small and sparse.  Cobwebs in the corners indicated it was not cleaned very often, but a couple of slightly dirty dishes showed recent use.  There were very few personal items either.  Some toiletries in the bathroom hinted at a woman’s presence.

And there was a phone.  And there was an answering machine.  Quin tapped the play button.

_“Ms. Johnson.  Sammy has yet to hear from you about his merchandise.  We expect a response by the end of the day or there will be problems.”   _ 

BEEP

_“Ms. Johnson.  We have not heard from you regarding Sammy’s goods.  We now have a problem.”_

BEEP

“Seems our friend, Sammy, had a bit of a problem with this Johnson gal.  Wonder what’s going on there,” Devin said.

Armani didn’t say a word.

They searched the house for an hour, finding little else.  Armani plopped on the couch.  “B**ch don’t even have a TV.  And we gotta kill a few more hours before that chick gets back with our ride.”  By chance he glanced at the trashcan next to the couch.  He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.  “Hey, I found somethin’.”  Quin and Devin rushed over to look at the note.


KOA

1900​
“What’s that?”  Armani asked.

“KOA campgrounds.  There are a few of them near Williamsburg.”  Devin said.  “I’ve stayed there before, when I was younger.  No idea about the 1900 though.”

“Nor do I,” said Quinton.  “It could be an address at one of the campgrounds.  Maybe it’s a time, like military time.”

They all sat down and made themselves comfortable.

“At least we have lots of time to talk about it.”  Devin said as he looked at his watch.  He looked at it again.  He tapped it.  “Dammit!  Does anybody know what time it is?”


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## Devin Cole (Aug 13, 2004)

Ok so that’s just messed up PK.  I, as a "financially challenged American", find all these jabs at my "broke-ness" somewhat hurtful (mumbles about his broken watch).....well that or at least darn funny.  Keep it up.....

Everyone remember...Laugh now cause I play the lottery and when I strike it rich I will be laughing at you all from the drivers seat of my new hummer...with spinners...ya you too quin.....rich little turd


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## Puppy Kicker (Sep 7, 2004)

All apologies to my loyal readers for taking so long to update!  I had to go keep the world safe for democracy for a couple weeks, but now I'm back and an update is en route.  In the meantime I'm going to pop up a little survey to get my players into a competitive mood.  (Assuming I can figure out how to do it.)


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## Puppy Kicker (Sep 8, 2004)

*Skirt Chase, Car Chase, Goose Chase*

_8:00 PM Saturday, July 17th
Shields Restaurant, Williamsburg, Virginia_

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it.  We’ve really had some trouble getting together lately, haven’t we?”  Alli sipped her wine.  Her salad sat mostly untouched in front of her.

Meadow took Alli’s hand across the table.  “It’s just been a hectic couple of weeks.  I PROMISE we’ll spend some more time together.  And…”

“And you’ll try not to get shot anymore?” Allison interrupted with a sly wink.  She squeezed Meadow’s hand.

Meadow chuckled.  “You always have a way of setting me at ease, Alli.  That’s one of the things I love about you.”

“One of the things?”  Alli leaned forward.  “And what are the other things?”

Meadow leaned towards her and kissed her gently.  “Those lips for…”

“Who’s this?”  It was a forceful voice, and a voice Meadow had come to recognize and eventually loathe.

“Uh…” Meadow leaned back quickly, wiping her lips with her napkin.  “Jared… You’ve met Alli.”

Jared scowled.  He was a big man, not overly tall but thick and muscular.  A bit too possessive, Meadow thought, which was why they had broken up.  He folded his arms over his chest now and gave Allison his Alpha Male stare.  Meadow could just imagine him thumping his chest before speaking.  “Alli, huh?  Your ‘friend’ from the library?”  Jared turned his aggression back towards Meadow.  “Is this how you treat all your ‘friends’, you little lezzy whore?”

“Jared, I…”

“Shut up, whore!”  People from nearby tables were staring now.  A waiter was weaving his way towards the ruckus.  “I don’t want to hear your whoring stories!”  Jared kicked the table.  A shower of white wine and leafy greens rained down on an adjacent table.

The waiter skidded to a stately halt next to Jared.  “Sir.  I have to ask you to leave.”

“Sure, let the whore and her little… uh… other whore stay and eat.  I want nothing to do with this sh**.”  Jared kicked the table again.  “Nobody does this to me, Meadow.  Nobody humiliates me like this.”  His glare was dangerous.  He turned and stormed out of the room leaving a fine-dining mess and a freshly stocked rumor mill in his wake.

Alli wiped away a tear.  “I think that a**hole ruined my appetite.  Let’s go home.”

Meadow agreed.  They left.

---​
_9:00 PM Saturday, July 17th
Duck, North Carolina_

“She had someone she had to meet.  That’s all you need to know.”  The streetlights of Duck slipped by at three MPH over the speed limit.  Armani, crunched in the back seat, fidgeted and crunched Quinton.  Quinton groaned and tried to squeeze himself even tighter against the door.

“Probably some f***in’ gay stuff anyway.  At least some of us did somethin’ worthwhile.”

“Oh, I’m sure you were sooo happy to get your chance to break a door in.”  Rebecca scowled into the rear-view mirror.

“Actually, we just got the key from the guy at the gate.”

“The nice old man who let us onto the property!?”  Rebecca gasped.  “How could you beat up an old man?”

Quin patted Rebecca on the shoulder.  “We just talked to him, Becca.  No violence was done.”  Over the next hour Devin, Quin, and Armani filled Rebecca in on what they had discovered and what they planned to do.

“So we’re just going to investigate this campground…”  Rebecca’s voice trailed off.  She was looking in the rearview mirror.  “We need to make a little detour.”  She flicked on her turn signal and turned down a random street.  She checked her mirror again.  “Someone’s following us.  Don’t look.”

Devin, Armani, and Quinton all turned to look.  “Where?”  “I don’t see it.”  “My head hurts.”  “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure.  The same lights have been following us for quite a while.”  She flicked on her turn signal again and turned back towards the highway.  “We’ll see if they keep following us now.”  She merged onto the highway.  The lights were still there, back a ways but identifiable.

“Who would be following us out here?” Quinton asked.  “I mean, who knows we’re even out here?”

Rebecca shrugged in the dark.  “Dunno.  I hope they don’t have guns.”

“Not nearly as much as I hope they don’t,” said Devin.  His head wound began to bleed just a bit as a poignant reminder.

“Just pull over.  I’ll beat their punk a**es down.”

“That has been, historically, ineffective.”  Quinton said.  “Maybe we ought to try to lose them.”

“Lose them?”  Rebecca looked a little terrified.  “I don’t know if I can drive fast enough to lose somebody.”

“Dude, you drive with your knees while applying makeup and talking to customers.”  Devin said.  “You’re probably a better driver than anyone here.”

“How about I pull over here and see if they follow us?”

“Works for me.  Just be ready to get going fast if anyone hops out with a gun.”  Devin said.

“Word,” said Quinton.

Rebecca pulled the car over in front of a Wal-Mart, idling in a parking space.  Their pursuer slowed down, but continued down the street until they vanished in the dark.

“Anyone recognize it?”

“Ford Escape.  Very pimp.”  Quin said.  “Couldn’t see the license plate though.”

“This is all a waste of my f***in’ time.  Get back on the road and let’s get goin’.”

“Whatever.”  Rebecca pulled back onto the road.  Two blocks later the Escape pulled up behind them from a side street.

“They’re following us again!”  Rebecca exclaimed.

“We’re driving at 20 miles and hour.  It’s hardly a high speed chase.”  Quinton said.  “Just pull over at this gas station.  It looks busy.”

Rebecca pulled over again.  As soon as the car stopped Devin hopped out and inched his way towards the Ford, which had pulled over across the street.  As he got closer the vehicle pulled onto the road and drove off.  Devin returned to the car.  “Let’s get out of here.  Take a back route.”

“See anything interesting?”

“Got their plates.”  Devin looked at his scribbled-on palm.  “VA AOW-2134.”

Quin slapped him on the back.  “Good job, man!  I’ll get those to Robbie tomorrow.  I bet he can figure out who it is.”

Rebecca pulled the Grand Am back onto the road and continued the long drive to Newport News.  Armani scowled in the back seat.  “That was the lamest f***in’ car chase I’ve ever been in.”

---​
_1:00 AM Sunday, July 18th
Virginia Beach, Virginia_

The Grand Am, fully loaded now with five people, bumped along the rut-filled KOA campground road.  Armani, Devin, and Quin were crowded in the back while Meadow luxuriated in the passenger seat.

“I don’t know why witch-b**** always gets the front seat.  This is f***in’ bull****.”  Armani elbowed for more room and got it.  “And we ain’t finding sh** here anyway.”

“Yeah, I think we’ve seen every side road of this place,” Quin said.  “I don’t see any sign of that van from the McDonalds.”

“Or anything promising, for that matter,” agreed Meadow.

“There are a couple more KOAs in Williamsburg,” Devin said.  “I bet if they were going to be doing stuff near that area they would go to those ones instead of driving all the way down here.”

“How are you doing, Becca?” Quin asked.  Rebecca looked exhausted and she kept shaking her head trying to stay awake.

“Tired.  A lot of driving today.”

“Yeah, no kidding.  So did you get everything taken care of that you needed, Meadow?” Quin asked.

“Sure,” Meadow snapped.  She had been untalkative ever since they’d picked her up at the motel.  They all gave her some space.

“Let’s head back.” Quin said.  “Pull over, Becca.  I’ll drive.”  

Quin got them back to the hotel safely and quietly (exhaustion was the best argument solver they'd found yet.)  Back in the safety of the motel it took 15 seconds to reach a group concensus that all further plans would be made in the morning.


----------



## Rebecca M (Sep 9, 2004)

*Vote for Rebecca!*

So far, this attempt at democracy is a miserable failure.  It appears that SOME people get to vote for everyone, and the election is being decided by one real vote.  (Thanks for voting Gina, but wrong guy.   )


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## Q Stark III (Sep 9, 2004)

Thought I would just pop in to say a little something.......WORD!


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## johndaw16 (Sep 9, 2004)

Hey PK saw the story hour and since I'm running a Modern campaign myself I took a look (one can never have too much inspiration).  One quick question for you though, I attend William and Mary and grew up in Newport News.   Do you live in the area as well ? You seem to have a pretty good idea of whats in the area locally and I thought it was cool to see places I've been to before (including the good ole N.N. jail) mentioned.  Keep it coming.


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## Gina (Sep 9, 2004)

Rebecca M said:
			
		

> (Thanks for voting Gina, but wrong guy.   )




What can I say? The poverty factor and the endangered baby sister just make him sympathetic.....

Actually, all of these characters are interesting and nuanced.


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## ledded (Sep 9, 2004)

Rebecca M said:
			
		

> So far, this attempt at democracy is a miserable failure. It appears that SOME people get to vote for everyone, and the election is being decided by one real vote. (Thanks for voting Gina, but wrong guy.  )



Well, I felt compelled to vote for Rebecca, mainly because of the John Edwards email but also because she is often the catalyst for some of the more fun arguments.  Flailing on each other is something we do a lot in our own Modern game, and it makes for great roleplaying fun.  

Nice updates, this thing is really cooking Puppy Kicker.  I like what you've done with the place.


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## Puppy Kicker (Sep 9, 2004)

> Hey PK saw the story hour and since I'm running a Modern campaign myself I took a look (one can never have too much inspiration). One quick question for you though, I attend William and Mary and grew up in Newport News. Do you live in the area as well ? You seem to have a pretty good idea of whats in the area locally and I thought it was cool to see places I've been to before (including the good ole N.N. jail) mentioned. Keep it coming.




I do indeed live in the area, but I'm the newbie around here (a couple years, most of that as little more than a visitor).  I actually get a lot of feedback - during game and between games - from the other players on where I've messed up.  Often they just tell me what they're doing and I have to take their word that the place even exists!  They've all lived in the area a long time (except for Rebecca, who's new here too.)

And I have to give thanks to Gina for voting.  I think you voted just fine.  And I'm sure Devin's head is a bit swollen from the vote (not to mention the gunshot wound!)




> Nice updates, this thing is really cooking Puppy Kicker. I like what you've done with the place.




Thanks for the kind words, ledded.  You may like Rebecca even more when you see where the JE sidetreck takes the group.  You're right, she's a GREAT catalyst for making things happen and I'm really happy to have her in the group.


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## Devin Cole (Sep 10, 2004)

*Thanks to all for the love!*

Well, just so you know im healing well Gina.  I would like to thank you in person but i really doubt my old truck could make it all the way out to you.  I looked into getting a new engine for the old beast but the mechanic told me that if i loosened the bolts of the engine mounts the truck may fall apart, again.  I am deaply touched that you care about my plight.  I assure you that I will keep little lisa safe until i am taken from this world.  She depends upon me and I thank god for each blessing he gives to us.  

I have a question for you.  Tomorrow i am going to wear my best shirt.  Its missing a button but i will try to hide that with my jacket.  The question is what color should my bandages be to match my light blue shirt.  You see im trying to impress a girl and she is all into her appearance and the appearance of others.  Any kind of aid her would be great.  Thanks so very much.

Well my head is kinda pounding from all these misspellings and word usage errors i have brought to everyone....well that and the bullet....

Night all


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## armani (Sep 10, 2004)

Hey all.  I like the story so far PK.  It has been very 'interesting' so far.  Who knows, I may even have a f**king heart by the end of it     Btw, I don't think I swear THAT much when we game, but if so... You gotta get in character at some point.  After all, isn't that the whole point of roleplay?  

Laters


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## Meadow M (Sep 14, 2004)

Alright so whats up with barely anyone voting for poor little me. You know being a witch is hard work and well I work on that more than my classes but who cares. Pretty soon you might even see my do something impressive with my witchcraft. I wonder what its gonna take to get intimate with Alli...she is a hottie after all. Either way, vote for me people!!


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## Puppy Kicker (Sep 18, 2004)

*Hospital Visit*

_9:00 AM Sunday, July 18th
Newport News, Virginia_

The companions crowded in the motel room the next morning, discussing what they’d discovered and what their plans were for the day.  Rebecca sat at a table in front of Quinton’s laptop.

“The KOA on the Beach was a waste of time, but there are two more that I know of up here.  I think we ought to go check those out.”  Devin paused as he finished wrapping fresh bandages around his head.  “We find where that Wendy girl is at, we find that bear, we get my sister back.  Simple as that.”

“F***in’ A.”  Armani agreed.  “I think them campgrounds are the best bet.  You know how to get to them, Devin?”  

Devin nodded.  “Been to both at one time or another.”  He turned to the others.  “So is that the plan?  Are we all going to the KOA?”

“Sorry guys, I’ve GOT to go get my car fixed.” Quin said.  “I’ll just drop it off at the shop and then I can join you for the camping trip.”

Devin sighed.  “Fine, we’ll go with you to the shop first.  Anyone else want to change the plans?”

Meadow paused from drying her hair long enough to answer.  “I think I’m going to go see if I can find out how Betty’s doing.”

“Who’s Betty?” Quin asked.

“The cop… the one that we saved from certain death…”  Meadow caught Quin’s sly grin.  “Jerk.”  She turned to Rebecca.  “You want to come with me, Rebecca?”  Rebecca seemed engrossed in something on the computer screen and was typing furiously.  “Rebecca.  Rebecca!”  Rebecca turned.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go see if we can find Betty and see how she’s doing.  What are you up to, anyway?”

"I've been... following some leads," said Rebecca.  She clicked the SEND button on her latest e-mail.

TO:   John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com>
FROM: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu>
SUBJ: Re: Interested in bear, please tell me more <nt>

Mr. Edward,

	Thanks for your reply.  I’m sorry to sound 
ungrateful, but there seem to be some mob-type 
people interested in this artifact.  I’m sure you 
understand why I’m being cautious.  In order to 
verify that I’m talking to you and not some freak 
who hijacked my e-mail, could you please ask my 
grandmother to tell you what her favorite breakfast 
food was?  Thank you for your help!

Rebecca Michaels

Rebecca turned off the computer.  “Do you know where Betty is?”

Meadow tossed the towel onto the bed and sat down on it.  “Nope.  Maybe we can call the police station and see if they’ll tell us where she was taken.”

Devin shook his head.  “Right, like they’re just going to up and tell you the location of one of their cops who was just ATTACKED and nearly KILLED.  I don’t think so.”

“Dumb chicks,” Armani agreed.  “F***in’ cops ain’t gonna tell you where she is.”

Five minutes later Rebecca hung up the phone and wiped a few tears from her eyes.  “She’s at Riverside Community.  The nice police lady was very sorry that they had neglected to call me and tell me what had happened to my sister.  She promised it would never happen again.”

“That was amazing,” said Quin. He looked genuinely awed.

“So are you going to break down in tears when we get to the hospital too?”  Meadow asked.  She looked genuinely appalled.  

“If I have to,” smiled Rebecca.  “Come on, Meadow.  I’ll drive.”

---​
_11:00 AM Sunday, July 18th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

Rebecca and Meadow stood in the waiting room of Riverside Community Hospital, looking at the line of people in front of the receptionist.  They tried to look inconspicuous.  They succeeded.

“Did we get her any flowers?”  Meadow suddenly asked, breaking what passed for silence in the waiting room.

“Umm… no.”

“Should we have?”  Meadow asked.  “I mean, if we’re family it would seem appropriate to bring flowers or something.”

Rebecca glanced at a vase of flowers resting innocently on the waiting room table.  “Oh, we DID bring some.”

Meadow looked furtively around as Rebecca inched towards the table.  “Rebecca!” she hissed.  Rebecca ignored her and placed herself between the receptionist and the flowers.  With one hand behind her she gently lifted the flowers out of the vase, then froze in place as the receptionist glanced her way.  The receptionist made brief eye contact and then continued helping someone.  Rebecca snuck back towards Meadow with her new prize.

“I think they’re her favorite.”  Rebecca smiled sweetly.

Meadow tried not to smile and failed.  “Let’s go talk our way into some more trouble.”

---​
“She believed you were Betty's sister?  You two don’t look even remotely similar, Rebecca.  How the hell do you do that?”  Meadow asked a few minutes later, as she and Rebecca rode the elevator to the hospital’s third floor.  “I mean, I don’t think it’s even natural.”

Rebecca shrugged.  “I just have a way with people I guess.”  They got off the elevator and approached the slightly ajar door that led to Betty’s room.  “Here we are.”  Rebecca slowly pushed the door the rest of the way open and walked in.  Meadow followed.

The room was very dark – the blinds were shut and the lights were off.  A couple of machines gave off an eerie greenish light and the television ran a _Will & Grace_ rerun, volume off.

Betty was alone in the two-person room.  As Rebecca and Meadow entered her head rolled towards them, her eyes barely open.  “Miss Michaels.  Miss McLean.  Glad you could…” Betty groaned then continued.  “Glad you could come.”

“We were worried about you, Betty.”  Meadow said as she walked over to the bed and crouched down next to the injured police woman.  “You got yourself pretty beat up the other night.”  Meadow gently patted Betty’s hand.  It was about the only part of the woman’s body not covered with plaster, bandages, or sensors.

"And we brought you these," said Rebecca, holding forth the pilfered flowers.

"Thank you."  Betty tried to chuckle and stopped as the pain hit.  “They…”  Suddenly Betty’s eyes *rolled * back in her head and spittle *sprayed * from her lips.  “BAD BLOOD!!!  BAD BLOOD!!!  BAD BLOOD!!!”  She shouted and spasms rocked her body.  All around them the previously comforting beeps of the machines picked up to a frenzied pace.

Rebecca looked worried.  “Should we call a nurse?” she asked.

Meadow shook her head.  “I’ll take care of her.”  Meadow caressed Betty’s hand and whispered comforting words to her until the spasms stopped.  A line of saliva dribbled down Betty’s cheek and her eyes rolled back and forth, watching something that wasn’t really there.  “Going to kill me… bad blood.  Bad blood killing me…”  Betty at last relaxed and her eyes closed.  “Going to kill you.  Your blood… my blood… bad blood…  Killing me…  kill…. blood… “  Betty faded into unconsciousness.

“I don’t think we’re going to get any more information from Betty today, Rebecca.  Let’s get out of here.”

Rebecca looked a little pale.  “Uh huh.”  She was still nodding as Meadow walked out of the room.  Rebecca followed a few moments later, leaving Betty alone in the dark...

... but not completely alone.

As the elevator door closed on Meadow and Rebecca, a shadowy figure stepped from Betty’s room and snuck towards the stairs, unseen by anyone.


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## Gina (Sep 20, 2004)

Puppy Kicker said:
			
		

> As the elevator door closed on Meadow and Rebecca, a shadowy figure stepped from Betty’s room and snuck towards the stairs, unseen by anyone.




C'mon! Give us a little more here! 

Need to know what happens....

Of course, what else should I expect from a guy called "Puppy Kicker".   

Please, more updates.


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## recursive_1 (Sep 27, 2004)

> Please, more updates.




Yeah no kidding.  I'm going crazy here....


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## Rebecca M (Sep 27, 2004)

*I agree!*

Yes--update already!    There's two sessions to post and it's been so long I'm forgetting what happened.


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## Gina (Sep 28, 2004)

Rebecca M said:
			
		

> Yes--update already!    There's two sessions to post and it's been so long I'm forgetting what happened.




See, you have to update PK. 

How can you resist Rebecca? She's one of those girls who always looks perfect!


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## Puppy Kicker (Sep 28, 2004)

Gina said:
			
		

> See, you have to update PK.
> 
> How can you resist Rebecca? She's one of those girls who always looks perfect!




You are too correct, Gina!  It's late, so this will be a quick one.  Things are starting to move fast though, and get ugly.


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## Puppy Kicker (Sep 28, 2004)

*Coffee n Donuts*

_11:15 AM Sunday, July 18th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

As the elevator doors clunked shut behind them, Meadow and Rebecca discussed their next stop.

“I’d like to get ahold of Allison.  I haven’t talked to her since our fiasco with the a**hole.  She was a bit flustered.”

“It sounds like he was totally out of line,” Rebecca agreed.  “I just don’t understand mean people like that.  Have you called her today at all?”

“Tried this morning, couldn’t get through.”  Meadow pulled her cell phone out of her purse.  “I’ll give her a try really quick.”  

“Sounds good to me.”  Rebecca said.  “I’m going to go talk to the receptionist lady for a sec.”  Meadow half-nodded at her, occupied with whatever she was hearing on the other end of the Verizon electrons.

Rebecca approached the receptionist.  Rebecca stopped at the desk and the tired looking young woman looked up from her paperwork.  “Ah, Miss Richardson.”  Rebecca looked confused for half a second, remembered her lie, and reconfigured her facial features into a slightly perturbed look.

“Yes.  I just talked to my sister.”  Rebecca turned on her worried face.  “I’m worried about her.  She seems very sick, and she was attacked by some mean men just a couple days ago.”  Rebecca flipped to her commanding face.  “I REALLY think it would be best if she had a nice policeman at her room to keep her safe.”  Rebecca settled on her sweet and persuasive face.  “Don’t you think so?”

The receptionist squinted at some papers on her desk.  “Betty Richardson?  She has one.”

“But… Where…” Rebecca began.

“No luck.”  Meadow said as she approached the desk.  She dropped her cell into her purse.

Rebecca gathered her interrupted thoughts.  “Betty’s supposed to have a police guard?”

The receptionist nodded.  “Says so right here.  I’m pretty sure I saw him come in too.”

"Guess the cop wandered off.  Maybe somebody should have got him a mini-fridge, some coffee, some donuts," Meadow said to Rebecca.

“You think it’s something that innocent, Meadow?”

“Nope.”

They started for the elevator, quickly, worried.

---​
“I guess that’s his chair.  Didn’t even notice it when we came by the first time.”  Meadow said.  “Look, even a cup of coffee on the floor next to it.  Are you getting a bad feeling about this too?”

Rebecca nodded.  “Let’s see if we can find him.  Ummm….”  Rebecca looked around.  “Bathroom maybe?”

“I’m going to check on Betty first.”  Meadow pushed open the door to Betty’s room while Rebecca headed towards the restrooms.  They met again a minute later as Rebecca left the ladies’ room.  “Betty seems to be OK.”

Rebecca was holding her nose.  “Nothing in there that we want to deal with.”

“Men’s room then?”  Meadow asked.

Rebecca nodded and pulled the door open as an orderly pushed a cart around the corner.  He stopped his cart and gave the two women standing in the entrance to the men’s room a quizzical look.  "What are you two doing?"

"Looking for a cop."

"Check the ladies’ room," he instructed.

"It stinks."

The orderly shook his head and continued pushing his cart down the passageway, muttering something about not having time for this kind of crap.

The ladies returned their attention to the men’s room.  “See anything?”  Rebecca asked, holding the door but not looking in.

Meadow whispered.  “Someone’s on the toilet.”  Louder, she said, “Hello?”  Nothing.

"You look," said Rebecca, looking a bit queasy.

"Over or under?"  Meadow asked.  Rebecca continued to look queasy and didn’t answer.  Meadow approached the stall door.  It was slightly ajar.  With a single finger she pushed it.  Creaking, the door swung inward.  Meadow staggered backwards, slamming into the wall.  “Ohmygod…”

Seated on the toilet, a wire garrote twisted around his throat, face blue and bloated from strangulation, was a young police sergeant.  From Betty’s room, directly across the hallway, the steady beep of a stopped heart droned through the sudden silence.


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## armani (Oct 6, 2004)

Ohhh, the tension...  When do I get to kill someone?


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## ledded (Oct 6, 2004)

Man, *great* timing in your writing, and the characters continue to be well written and well played (I love the reply to Edwards... d*mn that Rebecca makes me laugh).  You seem to be stretching your legs and hitting stride now, I can feel the roller-coaster clack-clack-clack-clackclackclack-ing to the top of the big hill right now...


Post soon, PK, I gotta see how this shapes up.


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## Puppy Kicker (Oct 11, 2004)

*Crunched and Weepy*

_11:30 AM Sunday, July 18th
Williamsburg KOA, Virginia_

“You think the girls are finding anything interesting?” Quin asked, slightly breathless.  He was crammed into the middle of the bench seat of Devin’s truck, squeezed on one side by Armani’s bulky frame and the other by Devin’s constantly shifting right arm.  

“Probably not.  I doubt that cop will be…”  Devin shifted into second and Quin grunted in pain.  “Sorry… I doubt she’ll be talking that much.  She was seriously bashed up.”

Quin tried to scoot back farther to avoid the shifter’s uncomfortable position.  "Hey, Armani."  Armani had slumped against Quin’s shoulder and was drooling a bit on his silk shirt.  Devin nudged him away.  “Aramani.”  Armani let loose a snore, but continued to drool.  Quin slammed his elbow into Armani’s side with all the force he could muster – not much.  "Hey, suit guy!"  

Armani awoke long enough to mutter a short non-inventive stream of expletives and then fell asleep again.  “Not like we need him anyway.  He’s more hindrance than help when it comes to talking.  I think that little kid we talked to nearly peed himself when d***head here tried to smile at him.”  

Quin managed to push Armani over towards the window enough to get some breathing room.  “Phew!  Much better.  Where to now, boss?”

Devin looked a bit surprised.  “Oh… uh.  Well, we’ve pretty effectively searched both of the campgrounds here and nothin’.  Not a 1900 block at either of them, so maybe it was a time like you said.”  The truck groaned as Devin shifted it into third.  “That’s right baby, keep running…” Devin cooed.  The truck didn’t die and Devin sighed with relief.  “I guess back to the hotel, see if the girls found anything.”

Quinton wiped sweat from his brow.  “Yeah, at least they’ll have been nice and comfortable in that air conditioned hospital.  Remind me to complain to them about our miserable day.”

---​
_
11:35 AM Sunday, July 18th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

Meadow struggled under the dead cop’s weight as she tried to balance him on her legs while unwrapping the garrote wire from his neck.  The cord was twisted too tightly and she only succeeded in knocking the unbreathing body – and herself – to the floor.  “Rebecca, get help!” she yelled as she tried to get out from under the body.

Rebecca sprang into the hallway, looking desperately left and right for any help.  The orderly!  "We need help in the bathroom!" Rebecca screamed at the orderly’s retreating back.

He glanced back.  "Calm down, girl.  It can't be that bad."  He chuckled a little and turned his back on her.

“GET OVER HERE AND HELP US NOW!”  The young woman’s voice reverberated through the halls of Riverside.  Several newborns woke up crying.  A glass surreptitiously cracked.  

The orderly moved the fastest he ever had in his life, and tried to help.

---​
“I don’t know what we’ve gotten ourselves into, Meadow.”  Rebecca was sitting in the waiting room, head resting on clasped hands.  Meadow paced back and forth.  She alternately looked at the clock, the receptionist, her cell phone, and the clock.

The women had watched the hordes of hospital personnel flood the restroom and Betty’s hospital room.  The cop was pronounced dead at the scene.  He didn’t even make it to the emergency room.  Betty was dying when they were forced to leave the premises and they had heard nothing on her condition for over an hour.  The police had questioned them and were still in the building, investigating the crime scene.

And Meadow had been calling Allison for an hour with no answer.

“I mean, I don’t know what could have happened to her.” Meadow said.

“I don’t either.”  Rebecca said and stood up, stretching.  “Maybe whoever killed that policeman did something to her.”

“What?”  Meadow looked confused for a moment.  “Oh, no.  I mean I don’t know what happened to Alli.  I haven’t really talked to her about that thing with Jared.”

Rebecca nodded, put on a sympathy frown, and patted Meadow on the shoulders.  “I’m sure she’s alright.  Probably just needs a little time.”  As she patted, a doctor approached.

“Miss Richardson?”

Neither of the women answered.

“You are Miss Richardson, correct?  Betty Richardson’s sister?”

Rebecca quickly faded into character.  “Yes.  Is Betty…”  Rebecca sniffled.  “Is Betty OK?”

“I’m afraid Betty didn’t make it, Miss Richardson.”

Rebecca burst into tears, playing fully the part of grieving family member until the doctor left.  “I suppose we should leave now.  Go fill the guys in on what happened here.”

“Yeah, I guess so.  That’s so horrible about Betty.”  Rebecca and Meadow hugged, then prepared to leave.  As they were heading towards the door the receptionist shouted at them.

“Miss Richardson!”  Rebecca froze, slowly turned.  

“Yes.  That’s me.  Miss Richardson.”

The receptionist hurried up.  “Would you like to collect your deceased sister’s personal belongings?”

Rebecca tried not to nod too enthusiastically.


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## Puppy Kicker (Oct 11, 2004)

***


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## Puppy Kicker (Oct 14, 2004)

*Foreshadowing x2*

_1:00 PM Sunday, July 18th
East Manhattan, New York_

The man was hunched over a computer screen, piles of papers and newspaper clippings scattered around the small desk interspersed with fast food wrappers and crumpled up coffee cups.  A fresh cup of midnight black coffee rested to the right of the monitor and the figure occasionally sipped it while he surfed.  The light and noise of New York seeped in through dirty blinds, cars and their fumes, shouted insults and greetings, life.

The man pushed himself away from the computer and stood, glancing one last time at the website that had just loaded.  Natural grace and a muscular frame belied the lethality of his demeanor.  He stretched, rubbed his eyes, wandered to the kitchenette to refill the now empty coffee cup.  The kitchenette was dirty and cluttered.

Before setting down the empty coffee cup, the man picked up the case lying next to it.  A metal briefcase.  His livelihood.  He popped it open, out of habit more than necessity.  The rifle was disassembled, immaculate, deadly.  Had Charlton Heston seen it, he would have proclaimed “That needs to be illegal!”

But Charlton Heston was not there to see it, and if he had unexpectedly arrived there, someone would have been prying something from his cold dead hands shortly thereafter.  Spence Ryland gently clicked the case shut, filled his coffee cup, and returned to the computer screen.  He stood before it, reading the headline.

Suspect Arrested in McDonalds Shooting

Newport News, VA – Armani Determan of New York 
City has been arrested for the alleged murder…

Spence clicked the PRINT button and dressed himself while he waited for the printout to arrive.  Slacks, dress shirt, shoulder holster (concealed), and a sport coat.  Spence grabbed the printout and headed for the door, stopping long enough to toss his rifle into a duffle.  “Time to pay the piper, Mr. Determan.”  The door slammed shut on the squalid safehouse.

---​
_5:00 PM Sunday, July 18th
Newport News, Virginia_

“What the hell took you chicks so damn long?” greeted Meadow and Rebecca as the walked into the motel room.  Armani and Devin sat at the table, scowling at the ladies.

“It was a very… very…” Rebecca answered.

“…very ….horribly…” Meadow continued.

“…amazingly long day.”  Rebecca finished.

“So don’t flick us any crap, Armani.”  Meadow looked around.  “Where’s Quin at, by the way?”

Devin dropped his scowl.  “He went to grab some food.  Said it would be nice for the ladies to have something to eat when they got back.”

"He probably just wants sex," Meadow mumbled, mostly under her breath.

Rebecca nodded, but smiled a bit.  “Probably.  But I AM hungry.”

There was a quick knock at the door, then it opened suddenly and Quin staggered in.  His arms were full of pizza, sandwiches and Chinese food.  “I come…”  He staggered over to the table and emptied his arms. “…bearing gifts of munchies.”

“You’re such a…” Meadow began.

“…SWEETHEART!”  Completed Rebecca.  “Thank you SO much, Quin.  I was starving!”

After deflecting a grumpy look from Meadow, Rebecca began to tell of their misadventure at the hospital, or the cop, of Betty’s death, and of Betty’s belongings.

“They gave us some of her clothes, of course.  Poor girl really could have dressed better.  Some vertical stripes…”

“Damn, chick.  Get to the f***in’ point!”

Rebecca scowled at Armani, then continued.  “Well anyway, some clothes of hers.  But we also got the keys to her apartment and… something else.  Guess it’s a mailbox.”

“So … what.”  Said Devin.  “So we have some keys belonging to a dead girl we didn’t even know.  Should we just go breaking and entering?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” said Meadow, with a grin.

“And we have the keys, so really it’s just unlocking and entering.  I’m almost CERTAIN that’s not nearly as illegal.  Aren’t I right, Armani?” Rebecca said, sweetly.

“What?  How should I?  ******in’ *** **** *** * sonofa **** *** ****”  Armani trailed off in a stream of curses.

“She might have something that can help us figure all this out.  I mean, she was involved it seems.”

“Sure, Becca.  She might.  And she might not.  And someone might get shot in the head.”  Devin said.  “Unless she had the bear, I don’t really feel like putting my life on the line again.”  He glanced around.  “Anybody think she had it?”

Quin, Becca, and Meadow exchanged surreptitious glances.  “Umm..” Rebecca began.  “It’s certainly possible.  And no harm in checking.”

“Fine, let’s go check it out.  You know where she lived?”

Rebecca nodded.  “I got the address from the nice receptionist.  It’s not too far from here.”  Rebecca licked some sesame chicken off a Passion Strawberry fingernail and stood.  “Well let’s all go then.”  The rest got up to go, except Armani.

“I’m staying here.  I’m sick of running around like a chicken with its legs cut off.”

“Fine, we’ll see you when we get back.” Meadow said.

“…legs cut…?” Quin whispered.

“Oh, just let him stay here and make up sayings.” Meadow said.  “It’s not like we’re going to need his particular breed of diplomacy anyway.”

“Probably right,” said Rebecca.  “Shouldn’t need to beat anyone up in the next half hour.”

Devin closed the door behind him and they headed for the car.  “I sure hope we don’t need him…”


----------



## Captain Tagon (Nov 22, 2004)

This is great stuff, must have more...soon.


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## Puppy Kicker (Dec 22, 2004)

*Breaking and Entering v2.0*

_8:00 PM Sunday, July 18th
Newport News, Virginia_

A flickering streetlight illuminated the entrance to the late Sgt. Betty Richardson’s apartment complex.  The sticky air amplified the stench of old garbage in the parking lot and the underlying scent of despair.  Rebecca jumped back in response to a crunching noise under her foot and suppressed a gag at the cockroach that scuttled away, completely unharmed.

“Somehow this doesn’t seem like the best place for such a nice police lady to live.”  Rebecca shook her foot vigorously to get any residual cockroach nastiness off her pumps.

“In order to know your enemy you must become your enemy,” Quin said, his hands pressed together Confuciusly.  

“You’re stupider than you look.”

Quin looked a bit hurt at Meadow’s jibe.  He restored his manhood by taking the lead.  “Let’s get this over with.”  He strutted towards the complex entrance.  The others followed.

The building was dark and smelly and smokey.  “What is that?” Rebecca asked.  She sniffed.  “Cigars?”

Quinton Stark coughed politely into his hand.  “You need to get to know Robbie better, Becca.  He can help get you educated.”  He continued down the hallway.  Rebecca looked a bit confused.

“What’s he talking about, Meadow?”

Meadow smiled.  “Let’s just say it probably isn’t oregano.”

Rounding a corner they found apartment 202.  Betty Richardson’s place.  Quin held his left hand up and reached into his jacket pocket with his right.  In a hushed voice he said “Should the door be open?”

Devin, Meadow and Rebecca shook their heads.  Quin slowly pulled his Ruger Service Six from his jacket and unlocked the safety.  Rebecca pulled two pepper spray canisters from her purse and handed one to Meadow.  “I did some shopping after McDonalds,” she whispered.

“Are we ready?”  Quin asked.  Meadow and Rebecca both nodded and held their pepper sprays aggressively, a couple of overly effeminate Dirty Harries.  Devin looked at his empty hands and started to object.  What he was going to say was “Maybe we ought to discuss this a bit more.  We are not well armed.  We have no idea what we are getting into.  There may be many people with guns in that room.  One of them may shoot me in the head.”

What Devin actually said was “…”

Quinton Stark III kicked the door in like he’d seen the people on NYPD Blue do so many times and it worked – since the door was already partly open.  He lost his balance a bit and stumbled into the room, barely keeping the barrel of his gun trained in the general not-shooting-his-friends direction.  The ladies flanked him, pepper sprays at the ready.

Two thuggish men looked up from the trashed apartment in surprise.  Both were unarmed but looked more than capable of defending themselves.  The closer of the two was shorter, but built like an adamantium sh**house.  Tatoos covered his hands.  The taller was also muscular and his head was shaved into a Mohawk.

“Freeze!” Quin shouted.  He brandished the Service Six like an angry monkey might brandish a banana.  The larger of the two men put his arms in the air and looked towards the other.  The smaller man also put his hands up, but more slowly and deliberately.

“No need to wag that thing around like that, esse.”  He was a short man with the steely eyes of a killer.  He looked over Quin’s shoulders and past the Quinton’s Angels.  “Heya Mr. Cole.”

Devin stepped up beside Quin.  “Eddie.”  Quinton started to lower the gun when he saw that Devin recognized the man.  “No Quin, keep the gun on him.  He’s not to be trusted.  If he makes any sudden moves, shoot his a**.”  Quin raised the barrel again.  “This is Rough Eddie.  He took my sister.”  Quin thumbed back the hammer on his pistol.  This time he looked less like a monkey and more like a gunslinger.  “You have a gun,” continued Devin.  “Slowly take it out and slide it across the floor.  Your crony too.”

Eddie nodded to his companion and both slid pistols from under their jackets then kicked them across the floor.  Devin bent to pick them up and gazed in wonder at the pistol he was holding.  "Holy... Wow... Nice..."  He pointed the silver plated Desert Eagle at its original owner.  “What are you doing here, Eddie.”

“I might ask you the same thing,” grinned Eddie.

“You might,” agreed Devin.  “But you might not get an answer.  We have the guns, y’see.”  

Eddie nodded.  “We’re here to find something.”

“A bear.”  Quin guessed.

“THE Bear,” Rough Eddie agreed.  “But it ain’t here.”

“We’ll decide that for ourselves.  Get out of here.”  Devin brandished the Desert Eagle.  “Get out of here before I take my frustrations out on your evil ass.”

“I’m with you, esse.  We’re done here anyhow.  Mind if I get my baby back before I go?”  He looked meaningfully at the Desert Eagle.

Devin gripped the pistol more firmly and took a step forward.  “I’ll keep your ‘baby’ for now.  Maybe you’ll see it another time.”  Devin stepped out of the doorway.  “Now clear a path for the nice criminal.”  

Eddie put his hands down.  “Hey, bro, I just want to take SOME baby home with me tonight.  If I can’t have my silver baby then maybe I’ll take the curvy baby there.”  He leered at Rebecca.  She vomited a little in her mouth.

“I don’t think so, ugly.”

Eddie pimped his way towards the apartment door, his crony in tow.  Rebecca squeezed up against the wall to avoid any contact with him.  She brandished the pepper spray canister especially authoritatively. 

"What are you planning to do with that, pretty thing?"  Eddie kept his hands up as he slid past Rebecca in the narrow hallway, but he let himself rub up against her in a less than innocent manner.  Rebbeca didn't put up with that kind of behavior.  She pressed the release tab on her pepper spray can...

...and thoroughly coated the opposite wall with the stinging substance.

Eddie chuckled.  "You missed, baby."

"That was a warning!"  Rebecca shouted, indignant.

"It's a single shot canister, chica."  Eddy turned his back to them and advanced down the hall.

"I have more of them," Rebecca pouted.

“Quin, let’s escort them to their vehicle.”

“Yeah, I want to make sure they get home safely,” Quin agreed.  

Devin and Quin followed the thugs out to the parking lot where they got into a vibrantly painted El Camino.  “Subtle little gangsta, isn’t he?” Quin said.

“F***er is going to die if anything happens to my sister.”

“I’ll put a bullet in him too, brother.”  Quin patted Devin's back.

They watched the El Camino vanish onto the street.  A purple neon light illuminated the license plate left them with PMP RID embedded in their memories.  

“Now let’s go search the apartment.”  Quin and Devin returned to the apartment, where Rebecca and Meadow where only casually searching.

“Get to it,” Devin said.  “If that damn bear might be here then we need to find it.”  He was short of breath and some blood was seeping out from under his bandaged head.

“The bear isn’t here,” Rebecca said.

“It’s got to be SOMEWHERE!” Devin shouted.  “My little sister is trapped by these …. These evil sons of bitches!!!”  Devin slammed his fist into the wall.  Again.  Again.  Again.  His knuckles were bleeding and tears were streaming down his cheeks.  “I need that godd**n bear!”

Meadow and Rebecca looked at each other.  Then Rebecca walked up to Devin as he slumped against the wall.  She put her hand on Devin’s shoulder.  “We’ll get your sister back.”

“HOW!?!”

Rebecca looked back at Meadow. Meadow nodded.  “We know where the bear is," she said.

---​


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## Gina (Feb 8, 2005)

Come on! Its just mean to leave us hanging for so long! 

Update, please?


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## (Psi)SeveredHead (Feb 10, 2005)

I can't _believe_ I never saw this SH before. I always read through those.

Anyway, the links to the characters are broken... got old I guess. Could you post them again?


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 14, 2005)

*Lies and Crappy Hideouts*

_9:00 AM Sunday, July 18th
Newport News, Virginia_

The Grand Am bounced across a stream of potholes on Interstate 64.  “I wish they’d fix this dang road,” Rebecca scowled.  She was trying to avoid the issue.

“I know!” Meadow exclaimed.  “They’ve been working on this section since I first moved here and they’ve made NO progress.”  She was also trying to avoid the issue.

The issue wouldn’t be ignored.  The issue said, “You’ve known where this goddamn thing is ever since the first night and you haven’t told anyone!”

“We told you.” Rebecca said.  Meadow nodded.

“They totally did, dude.” Quin said.  “They told you and now you know and we’re just going to go get the problem fixed.”

Devin wasn’t sure whether to strike out or scream or laugh or cry, so he punched the roof of the Grand Am.  The newly created dent matched perfectly the four others he’d created since the conversation began.  “Just… take me to Sammy and we’ll make a deal.  I’ll get my sister back…”  He trailed off, holding his head in his hands.  Ugly bruises were starting to spread across his knuckles and the bandages on his head were bloody again.  

“Take this exit.  I can get us to Sammy’s place.”

Half an hour later the Grand Am pulled off into a side alley in the nasty part of Newport News.  Somehow the shiny wax job and Mary Kay sticker didn’t seem to match the décor of the surrounding street – trash and advertisements for various not-quite-illegal products.

“That’s it over there,” Devin pointed at a decrepit looking bar.  A neon sign advertised Coors Lite, but the rest of the scene implied that the place was not open for business.  

“This is his hide-out.  I should be able to find him and get a trade arranged.”

"So this is what a secret hide-out looks like?  We need to find some better enemies." Quin complained.  

Rebecca reached into her purse and rummaged around a bit.  "Here.  Take a pepper spray."  Devin took it and slid it into his jeans pocket.  The Desert Eagle he’d stolen from Rough Eddy rested uncomfortably in his inner jacket pocket.  “If I’m not back in an hour…”

“We’ll go for coffee,” Quin finished.  “Don’t worry, we’ll bring you some.”

“I feel so much support here.”  Devin slammed the door and strode towards the hide-out.  The Desert Eagle banged conspicuously against his side.

Twenty minutes later he was engrossed in conversation with Rough Eddy and Sammy Nickels.

“Let’s recap, Mister Cole.  You know where the bear is.”

Devin nodded.  “Yes.  I just need to go recover it.”  

“Then you will recover it tonight.  I will have the bear in my possession tomorrow morning.  In return, Lisa will be returned to you this evening.”  Devin nodded.  Sammy Nickels sipped his Bloody Mary before continuing.  “And if I do not have the bear tomorrow morning?”

“You’ll have it, Mister Nickels.  I promise you that.”

“If I don’t have it tomorrow, then you won’t be the one I take it out on.  Do you understand?”

Devin nodded.  “I understand.”

“I don’t think you understand clearly enough, Mister Cole.”  Another sip.  “You return the bear to me tomorrow morning or Lisa suffers.   Lisa suffers in ways you cannot imagine.”

Devin clenched his teeth and fists.  “That’s the deal.”

Rough Eddy chimed in. “And you’ll give me my baby back now, esse.”  He was looking at the pistol jutting from Devin’s jacket.  “Tha’s part of the deal too.”

"Rough Eddy here lost his gun to a Mary Kay lady and her troupe."  Devin said as he slid the pistol across the table to its original owner.  “I just thought you ought to know that, Mister Nickels.”  Rough Eddy looked abashed as he grabbed his pistol and rushed from the table.  Devin stood slowly.  He still had dizzy spells from his head wound and fast vertical movement was something he avoided.  “I’ll get my truck running and be back with the bear tomorrow morning.  I expect to see Lisa tonight before I leave.”

“You have my professional word, Mister Cole.  She will be returned this evening.”

Devin walked out into the July heat and leaned against the outside wall, heart beating furiously.  The stress of maintaining the charade and his own cool had exhausted him.  He slowly made his way back to the Grand Am.

“It’s done.  Take me home.”

●​
_11:00 PM Sunday, July 18th
Newport News, Virginia_

Devin dragged himself out from under his pickup when he heard the SUV pull into the driveway. It was getting too dark to work anyway, and the truck was running as well as it was ever likely to.  He wiped his greasy hands off and approached the black Escalade.  Familiar – a license plate he recognized from the trip to North Carolina.   He peered at the tinted windows but could see nothing.  The passenger side door opened and his heart leapt.  

“Devin!” Lisa hopped out of the truck and rushed towards him.  He hugged her tightly and glared at the driver of the SUV – Rough Eddy.  

“Hi sweetie.  How was your trip?”  Lisa was a little unsteady and pale, but other than that seemed uninjured.

Eddy leaned over and slammed the passenger door shut.  The SUV hurled gravel into the air as it sped off.  Lisa squeezed Devin and buried her face in his chest.  “It was alright Devin.  I missed you though.  And I’m tired.”

“That’s alright sweetie.  We’re going to go see some friends.  You can sleep there.”

An hour later Devin had dropped Lisa off at the hotel and he and Armani were on the road towards North Carolina.  

“So I get it that Sammy wants the in’ bear.  But where do you plan to get it?”  Armani slammed another mouthful of Mountain Dew.  “I mean, we driving down to that resort again for nothing if you ask me.”

“You’re right ,” Devin said.  “I already have the bear - it’s in the glove compartment.  Rebecca had it all this time.”

“You shittin’ me!”

“Nope.”

“So we have the bear.”

“Yup.”

“And why we driving all this way tonight?”

“Just keeping up appearances.  Sammy’s probably going to be keeping tabs on us.”  

“Right.”  Armani looked a bit confused.  “Hmmm… still lost.”

“I told Sammy I know where the bear is, I said it’s in North Carolina.  So in order to maintain the façade that that’s where it was, I’m going to drive there, pretend to pick something up, then drive back.  In case I’m being followed.”

“Sounds stupid to me.”

“You’re not wrong.”

They didn’t talk much for the next six hours.


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Mar 15, 2005)

*E-mail Plans*

_11:00 PM Sunday, July 18th
Motel 6, Newport News, Virginia_

Quin was passed out on the floor of the Motel 6 amid a sea of empty Chinese food boxes.  Meadow and Lisa played Poker on one of the beds.  Rebecca sat at the laptop checking her e-mail.  The response she’d been waiting for had arrived.


TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu>
FROM: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com> 
SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people

Rebecca,

Grammy Bertha says hi.  She says her favorite 
breakfast was grits, but that you probably 
wouldn’t know that.  She says she always 
pretended what you made for her was her 
favorite, and that varied.  She says she’s 
sorry for the “fib” but that you’ll understand.

John

“Yeah, that sounds like Grammy.”  Rebecca began to type furiously, and finally clicked SEND.


TO: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com>
FROM: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu>
SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people 

John,

The bear is an ancient artifact, presumably 
Mayan.  It’s not usual for that area, however.  
Apparently it aids in communicating with the 
dead.  A bunch of people are looking for it – 
and killing people.  That’s all I know right 
now.  We’re turning the bear over to a thug 
tomorrow morning in exchange for a little girl 
the thug was thinking of killing.  What do you 
think?  Thanks again.

Rebecca

P.S.  Did you send the other info (signed) yet?  
Thanks!

She moved on to the next message in her inbox then, after carefully saving the message from John Edward in its very own folder.  As the next message popped onto her screen she caught her breath.  “Oh my…”


TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu>
FROM:  BEARHUNTER443@hotmail.com
SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people

We need to meet.  Mr. Gallivan needs to talk to you.  Meet us at the McDonalds tomorrow at 10 AM.


“Umm.. Meadow.”  Meadow looked up from her poker game.  “Martin wants to meet us tomorrow.”

“Professor Gallivan?  How do you know?”  Rebecca showed her the e-mail.  Meadow scratched her head, took a deep breath.  “Do you think we can trust this bearhunter, er, Wendy Johnson?”

Rebecca shrugged.  “I don’t know if we can trust her.  But I don’t know if we have a choice.”  Rebecca glanced over at Quin’s dozing form.  “Let’s wake up sleepy head there and figure out what we’re doing.”

Her e-mail dinged with a new message notification just as she was about to shut down the laptop.

TO: Rebecca Michaels <michaelsr@wandm.edu> 
FROM: John Edward <johnedward@crossingover.com>
SUBJ: RE: Bears that talk to dead people

Rebecca,

I’m sorry to hear about the trouble you’re 
having with the thug.  Do what you feel you 
need to do.  I didn’t mail the letter yet.  
For this I apologize.  I will make it up to 
you by giving it to you in person this 
Thursday.  Let’s meet at the airport.  I’ll
Be on UA flight 440, arriving at 11:25.

John


Rebecca quickly sent her eagerly affirmative reply to the e-mail and then she, Meadow and Quin discussed their plans for the next day.  Quin filled Armani and Devin in when they arrived early Monday morning.


----------



## Puppy Kicker (Mar 16, 2005)

*Old Haunts*

_10:00 AM Monday, July 19th
McDonalds, Yorktown, Virginia_

Quinton sat up in the driver seat of the M3 as the Dodge Caravan pulled into the McDonalds parking lot.  “I think that’s them.”  Rebecca was sitting in the passenger side and he poked her in the side.  “That’s the van we saw the other night, right?”

Rebecca scowled.  “I SEE it, Quin.  Stop poking.”  She peered at the van.  “Yeah, I think that’s it.”  The van pulled into a parking spot near the M3 and the passenger door slid open.  A red-headed woman stepped out and stretched.  She looked around the parking lot.

Meadow leaned forward from the back seat.  “That’s Wendy Johnson.  Her hair’s longer than I remember, but I recognize that gorgeous… I mean…” Meadow coughed uncomfortably.  “That’s her.”  She leaned back again, face red.

Quinton opened the door and started to get out.  “Let’s see what she wants.”

Rebecca grabbed him by the back of the pants and tugged him back into the car.  “Meadow and I will go.  You stay here with Lisa, in case something happens.”  Lisa was sitting in the back seat next to Meadow.  She was looking pale and weary and hadn’t said much all morning.

“No problem, dude.”  Quin slammed the door and cranked up the radio.  “The little lady and I will stay here and jam while you two put your lives in danger.”

Rebecca and Meadow got out of the car and approached the van.  As they got closer Wendy saw them and said something into the van.  The driver door opened and Professor Gallivan stepped out, looking a bit worse for wear but healthy enough.  “Miss Michaels, Miss McLean.  I am so glad to see you!”

They stood in the parking lot, discussing the events of the previous week.  Professor Gallivan explained that the group that had abducted him was really not that bad and that they had been able to help him uncover some more information about the Messenger of the Dead.  

“Interesting,” said Rebecca.  “They shot you, shot Quin, shot Meadow, shot Armani, and almost killed Devin.”  Her hands were on her hips and she had a vicious scowl.  “But that’s OK, because they were able to tell you a little bit about that little stone bear.  Fair trade.”

“Yeah.  I’m going to have a scar, dude.”

Rebecca turned around and looked at Quin, who had snuck up sometime during her tirade.  “Aren’t you supposed to be watching Lisa?”

“No way, Becca.  She wanted to listen to Britney.”  He deflected Rebecca’s scowl with his own hurt look.  “I couldn’t turn her down, she’s sick.  But I couldn’t handle it myself.”

Wendy looked genuinely sorry.  “I’m really sorry that things went the way they did.  You have to believe that I never wanted that to happen.”  She slid the back door of the van open.  “Please, climb in the van.  I have something to show you.”

"Nope," said Rebecca.

Quin said "Nuh uh."

"I don't think so," Meadow concluded.  And then she explosively vomited all over the side of the van, with some collateral damage spewing onto Wendy’s feet.

●​
_10:00 AM Monday, July 19th
“Nickels”, Newport News, Virginia_

Armani and Devin sat down at the bar in Nickels.  The same bartender was there as always, wiping the immaculate counter.  “Mister Nickels will be out soon.  He’s expecting you.  Want a beer?"

“Sure.”  Devin nodded and looked around the bar.  Completely empty.

"Naw, too in' early for beer.  How 'bout a Tequila Sunrise?"

They were nursing their drinks when Sammy Nickels entered the bar through a back door.  He sat at a small table and the bartender brought him a Bloody Mary.  Once he’d had a sip he directed Devin and Armani to join him.

“You have what I need?”

“I said I would, and I do,” Devin said.  He slid a paper bag across the table to Sammy, who picked it up and closed his eyes.

●​
_10:15 AM Monday, July 19th
McDonalds, Yorktown, Virginia_

"Should we tell Wendy about the messages on her answering machine?" Rebecca whispered.

Quinton shrugged.  "Hey, uh, Sammy was trying to get ahold of you."

Wendy was too busy trying to avoid the pool of vomit at her feet to answer.  Meadow was holding her stomach as she stumbled away from the van.  Professor Gallivan moved the van a couple spaces down to avoid the vomit puddle and they all gathered around it again, with the exception of Meadow, who remained a few feet further from it trying to maintain her upright position.  She felt really bad.

Wendy pointed towards a large object in the van’s back seat, covered with a blanket.  “This is why we need the Messenger of the Dead.”  She pulled the blanket back to reveal a large obsidian block, immaculately clean but for a few darker-than-black stains.  There were several receptacles in the block in various shapes.  One was obviously bear shaped, and sized to fit the Messenger of the Dead.  The others were about the same size, but in the shapes of various animals.  Wendy continued, “And this is why it is so important that the forces of evil do not get their hands on the Messenger.”

“Forces of evil, you say?”  Quin said.  “So forces of evil would be forces that break into a fast food restaurant and start shooting people.  Right?  Or are we talking about DIFFERENT forces of evil?”  He shrugged.  “Just asking.”

“Gotta agree with Quin, here.  And by the way, I don’t have a crush on you anymore.” Rebecca said to the professor.  Then she turned her attention to Meadow.  “Meadow, what’s wrong?”

Meadow was cowering against an adjacent car, shivering.  “Too strong…”

“Cover that  up,” said Quin.  “Now.”

Wendy pulled the blanket back over the obsidian block and some color returned to Meadow’s face.  “What’s wrong with her?” She asked.

Rebecca ignored the question.  “Just tell us what’s going on.”

Professor Gallivan closed the van door.  “You’re going to have to take some things on faith here, guys.”  He looked very stern.  “Magic is real.”  He looked around, perusing the faces of his students.

Meadow looked much healthier with the van door closed.  “Yeah, magic’s real.  So what’s that have to do with us?”  Quin and Rebecca both seemed equally unimpressed and awaited a response.

“Well.  That was supposed to be the hard part.”  Professor Gallivan went on to explain that the Messenger of the Dead was but one of several Mayan artifacts that could be used to not only communicate with the dead, but also control the dead.  When combined in the obsidian receptacle the power of the artifacts was fantastic and could have devastating repercussions.  The coven Wendy belonged to was attempting to recover them in order to prevent them from falling into the hands of evil.

Professor Gallivan looked stern again.  “It is vitally important that the Messenger of the Dead not fall into the wrong hands.  We have it on good faith that some of the other artifacts are already in the area, possibly in the hands of those who would abuse their power.”

“And…”  Quin looked a bit nervous.  “So, who would you consider being the ‘wrong hands’?”  He asked.

Professor Gallivan stared into Quin’s eyes.  “There are those in this world who are evil.  Who abuse the trust, the very lives of others without a second thought.  If men like this were to gain control of the Messenger of the Dead then who knows what they might do with it?”

“Yeah… about that…”

●​
_10:15 AM Monday, July 19th
“Nickels”, Newport News, Virginia_

After a minute of holding the still-closed paper bag, Sammy set it on the table.  “You have delivered what I asked for.”

“Then we’re square?”  Devin asked.

“We’re square, Mister Cole.”  Sammy looked to Armani.  “You and I are even as well.  Though there is other unfinished business that you may have with me.”

Armani nodded.  Wendy Johnson’s head on a platter.  “Yeah, I might get around to that .”  He shrugged.  “Might not.”

“Your choice, Mister Determan.”  Sammy stood up, the paper bag containing the Messenger of the Dead in his hand.  “The offer stands.”  He left through the same door he had entered.

Devin finished his beer. “Productive day.”

Armani finished his Tequila Sunrise.  “Yup.  Looks like this  is all over with.”

Devin stood up.  “Time to get back to a normal life.”

They left.


----------



## Gina (Mar 17, 2005)

PK, you are so great! 

I LOVE this story hour and seeing all these updates at once is great!

Thanks!


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 17, 2005)

I do it for the fans, Gina.    We're running our last session this weekend and then I'm going to be unable to post for some time so you can expect the story hour to be completely posted by the end of March (expect one major update every day until it's complete).  It's not the end of the entire campaign, but the story will take a major shift and end up in a different story hour then.  Plus it will take a half-year vacation before we play again.


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 17, 2005)

*Sick and Tired and Dead*

_1:00 PM, Monday, July 19th
Motel 6, Newport News, Virginia_

Quin, Meadow, Lisa and Rebecca entered the motel room to find Devin and Armani sitting at the little guest table playing cards.  “How’d the meeting with the professor go?” Devin asked.

Rebecca and Quin sat down at the table.  Meadow took Lisa over to have a seat on the bed – the little girl was still feeling sick.  Quin dealt himself in while Rebecca explained what had happened at their meeting.  “So you see, the bear really shouldn’t be in the hands of bad guys like Sammy.”

“Well tough sh**.  It’s in the hands of bad guys now and we’re out of the whole situation.”  Armani scowled.  He looked Quin in the eyes with a hint of malice.  “You have any sixes?”

“Go fish,” said Quin.

“F**K!” Armani shouted, and fished.

Devin flashed a glare at Armani.  “Don’t talk like that around Lisa,” To Rebecca, “So explain to me why this thing is so important, anyway?  You said it had some kind of magical powers?” 

Armani scoffed.  “Seems to me you’ve been watching too much fu…” Armani glanced over at Lisa.”  …umm… too much durned Buffy the Charmed sh.. stuff or something.” 

While the conversation was going on Meadow had been examining Lisa.  Lisa’s skin was slightly burnt from even the short time she’d spent in the sun that morning.  Beneath the burn it was very pale and her heart rate was weak and unsteady. 

“Guys, Lisa’s not looking great.”  Meadow looked concerned.  “I think we need to get her to the hospital.”

●​
_2:00 PM, Monday, July 19th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

Quin drove Lisa to the hospital.  His car was the only one with tinted windows and she seemed to be very sensitive to the sunlight.  After he dropped her off Quin left the hospital muttering about being “late for a very important date.”

“Ah, Mister Cole.  I see you were here just a week ago.  How is your head?”  The receptionist asked.  

Devin rubbed the bandages self-consciously.  “Still aches.  Umm… about the bill.”

“What bill?”

“The cash I owe you for my stay.  I’m good for it, it’ll just take a bit.  And my little sister really needs…”

The receptionist furrowed her brow.  “Your bill’s been paid, Mister Cole.”  She slid a clipboard full of papers to Devin.  “Now please fill these out and we’ll get Lisa in to see someone right away.”  A nurse led Lisa away.

Devin looked a little dazed as he grabbed the clipboard and stumbled over to a chair.  Armani scowled at the receptionist out of habit and then sat down next to Devin.  Rebecca and Meadow took a seat across from them.  

“So, who paid for the last visit?” asked Rebecca.

Devin glanced up from the paperwork.  “Dunno.  Probably some computer glitch and I ain’t going to ask for clarification.”  He returned to his paperwork.  “I sure can’t afford to pay for this visit.”

“Look, man.  I got some cash.”  Armani squirmed uncomfortably on the small chair.  “I can cover the bills from this f**kin’ visit.”  He looked up at Rebecca and Meadow, who were both staring at him slack-jawed.  “What the f**k are you looking at?  I ain’t no bad guy.”    

“Thanks, man.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Devin finished the paperwork.  He brought it up to the receptionist who took it and directed him to where Lisa was being examined.

“I’ll be with Lisa, guys.”  He looked at the floor for a second.  “Look… thanks for being here.”  He left the reception area to be with his sister.

“Looks like the f**king paintings are watching us.” Armani said, perusing the walls.  “Must be magic.”

Rebecca sighed and looked up from her _Redbook_.  “Look, Armani, I don’t believe in magic either, but this is weird.  Martin said some stuff that made sense and…”  She flipped a page in the magazine and began to read about '10 Ways to Please Your Man (With Food)'.  “Meadow can probably explain better.”

Meadow took a deep breath.  “It’s magic.  It’s real.  Ever since I was a kid, whenever I was around things that were otherworldy I got sick.  That bear made me sick like I’d never been sick before.  Until we talked to Professor Galivan and he showed me that bowl.  Then I got even SICKER!  There is some major magic going on here and we’re involved in it.  And now Sammy Nickels has magic that he shouldn’t have and we need to get it back.”

“Uh huh.”  Armani nodded.  “I guess I can pretend that’s true.  They’ve got some weird sh*t on Unsolved Mysteries and sh*t.”  He stood up and stretched.  “I’m going to go grab some f**kin’ coffee.  I hear it has the magical ability to wake a motherf**ker up while he listens to boring women jabber about bullsh*t.  Anyone want some?”

“Please.”

“Yes, two creams, one sugar, please.”

Armani returned a minute later with a single cup of coffee.

●​
Devin returned to the waiting room a half hour later and sat down.  He looked like he’d aged years in the last week and the hospital visit wasn’t helping.  

“Any idea what’s going on with Lisa, Devin?”  Rebecca asked.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her.  The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with her.  She needed a blood transfusion.  Her heart rate is abnormally slow and kind of fluttery.  Doc says her body temperature is abnormally low too.”  He looked half-despondent, half-pissed.  “She has things wrong with her that don’t happen from going to Busch Gardens, but she insists that all they did was go there and Chuck-E-Cheese’s and to that bar.  Sammy did something to her, and he’s about to end up in the hospital with some severe injuries…”

“Why do I get the feeling we’re going to be committing even more felonies in the near future?” Rebecca said.

An hour later a doctor approached the group.  “Mister Cole, I need to talk to you a moment.”  Devin got up and the two talked in private.  He returned a few minutes later and sat down.  The others looked at him expectantly.

“She had needle tracks on her arms, recent tracks.  They’re testing for drugs.  They’re testing for all kinds of stuff.  There’s something in her blood they can’t identify.”  Devin’s head was bleeding a little.  “She doesn’t do drugs.  Never has.”  He reached under his jacket to where the Desert Eagle used to be.  “Sammy’s going to pay.  Who has weapons?”

“I got a couple pistols.”  Armani patted the back of his pants.  “I think Quin gots one too.”

“I’ve got pepper sprays.”

“I think Allison has a sword that she got at a ren fair.”

Rebecca’s brow furrowed, slightly.  “Anybody else worried that we’re talking about guns in a hospital waiting room?”

Devin shrugged.  “Yeah, and we’ve been talking about magical bears too.  If anyone asks we’ll just say we’re talking about Dungeons and Dragons.”  He looked around though, to make sure nobody was in obvious earshot.  “Look, I just want to know that we have options.  I’ll stay here with Lisa tonight.  You guys go do what you need to.”

“We’ll get a hotel room closer to the hospital, Devin.  I’ll call Quin and have him close out the other room.”  She got up to leave and Meadow got up with her.

Armani remained seated.  “I’m gonna stay here for a while.  I’ll give you a call later.”

“Suit yourself.  We’ll find the closest hotel and get a room.”  She handed her cell phone to Devin.  “Take this.”

Devin pushed the phone away.  “I don’t need your char…”  

Meadow interrupted him.  “Look.  If someone can sneak into the hospital to kill a police officer, then we know it’s not completely safe.  Something odd is going on here and you need to have a way to get ahold of us in an emergency.  Take the damn phone.”

Devin took it.

●​
_12:00 AM, Tuesday, July 20th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

It was midnight.  

Armani had gone to the new hotel.  Rebecca had called Quin’s cell phone and left a message asking him to check out from the old motel.  Devin had fallen asleep plagued by nightmares and the steady beeping of the heart monitor attached to his little sister – the only person he had ever really cared for and the only thing that kept him going.

He awoke to the steady tone of a stopped heart.


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## Gina (Mar 17, 2005)

Puppy Kicker said:
			
		

> _12:00 AM, Tuesday, July 20th
> Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_
> 
> It was midnight.
> ...




Poor Devin. 

Really, I am enjoying this a lot!


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 19, 2005)

*Massacre at Nickels*

_6:00 AM, Tuesday, July 20th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

“Sammy needs to die.”

Armani slapped Devin on the shoulder and nodded.  “Then let’s kill him.”

“We don’t know that Sammy had anything to do with it,” Rebecca pleaded.

“Don’t we?”  Devin stared at Rebecca hard.  There was no doubt in his eyes.

Rebecca looked at the floor of the hospital waiting room.  “I don’t want anyone to die, that’s all.”

“Like my sister?”

“She’s not dead, Devin.”

“She’s alive because a machine is keeping her heart pumping.  She hasn’t opened her eyes.  She…”  Devin’s shoulders slumped.  “Sammy did this, Rebecca.  And he needs to die.”

“If the motherf**kerer need to die then he need to die.” Armani interjected.  “But you know damn well we need a plan.”

“Then let’s go make a plan on the way to Sammy’s hideout.  Rebecca, stay here and watch Lisa.”

“YOU need to wait with Lisa,” Rebecca said.  “Not me.  I’m a stranger to her.  You’re her brother.  She needs you.”

“What, should I wait in the room while she dies?”

“Maybe it would be comforting to her, and to you.  I just don’t think that driving over and killing Sammy is a good idea… right now.”

“I need to do something.  I can’t just sit here and let Lisa die.”  Devin slumped into a seat and held his head.  The bandages hadn’t been changed in two days and were crusted with blood.  He hadn’t really slept in days.  He was a mess.

“Stay here.”  Armani sat in the seat across from Devin.  “I’ll go check out the bar.  I’ll set that motherf**ker straight and find out what he did to her.”

“Yeah?” Rebecca asked.  “And you think he’s just going to tell you everything?  He’s a thug, even more than you, and he’s not going to help you.  Who knows, he might even just kill you.”

“I think it’s a good idea,” said Meadow.  “Armani, you should go investigate.”

“If that’s what you’re going to do then go.”  Rebecca reached in her purse.  “Here are the keys to my car.  Don’t wreck it.”  She rummaged around some more.  “And here’s my cell phone in case you need to call us.  If a cosmetics customer calls don’t tell them you’re a thug.  Just take a message and tell them I’ll call them back.”  She rummaged around some more.  “And here, take a pepper spray.”

Armani lugged the armful of Rebecca-condiments out of the hospital and set off towards Sammy’s place.

Devin stood up.  “I have to go see how Lisa’s doing.”

Rebecca and Meadow both gave Devin a hug before he left.  “We’ll be here if you need us.”

Devin sat in the chair next to Lisa and held her cold hand.  He fell asleep that way.

●​
_7:00 AM, Tuesday, July 20th
”Nickels”, Williamsburg, Virginia_

Armani approached the bar carefully, staying to the shadows and keeping an eye out for any threat.  It seemed quiet, unlit.  The morning light sparkled off some pieces of glass on the sidewalk and Armani stopped.  He looked at the boarded up windows.  The glass in front of the boards was shattered and the boards had small holes in them.  Bullet holes.

The door to the establishment was slightly open, but no sound came from inside.  Contrary to everything he’d learned watching a lifetime of horror movies, Armani pushed it just enough to allow entry and stepped in.  He stopped to allow his lights to adjust to the shadowy interior.    

Broken glasses and shattered furniture littered the room.  A couple of lights spread a sickly glow over the shattered room – just enough to allow Armani to see the two feet sticking out from behind the bar.  

Armani dropped to a crouch and slowly approached the bar.  The feet were sticking toes up, like their owner was lying on his back.  They didn’t move.  Armani pulled the pistol from his waistband and slid his brass knuckles on the other hand.  He rounded the corner of the bar, where he saw the owner of the feet – the barkeep.  Bullet holes riddled his body and a single hole directly between his eyes removed any doubt of his status.  Armani had seen dead bodies before.  The barkeep was not the reason he vomited.

The body behind the barkeep had been mutilated.  It had once been a man (presumably) in an all black outfit and what might have been a ski mask.  An ocean of blood surrounded his body.  It oozed from the talon-slashes that had shredded both his clothing and his flesh.  .  The flesh had been stripped from his face, leaving a single lidless eye to stare unseeing at Armani as he emptied his stomach on the bar floor.  A huge pistol lay on the floor next to the shredded body and several spent shell casings littered the bloody floor.

Armani stumbled out of the bar and sprinted to the car.  He would be getting no information from Sammy or his cronies that day.

●​
_8:00 AM, Tuesday, July 20th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

Armani walked into the waiting room.  “How’s the little girl?”

“The same,” Rebecca said.  “What happened at Sammy’s?”

“You don’t wanna know… I’ve got to make a phone call.” 

“Fine.  Meet me up in Lisa’s room when you’re ready to talk.”  Rebecca and Meadow went up to Lisa’s room while Armani wandered off to find a phone.  He found one and called the cops.  He told them about what he’d seen at Sammy’s place.  He didn’t tell them his name.

Armani entered the hospital room to find Devin holding Lisa’s hand, Rebecca and Meadow both standing next to him looking concerned.  Armani filled them in briefly on what he’d seen at Sammy’s, then waved towards Lisa.  “So, how she doing?” Armani asked.

Devin looked up.  “Same.  Doctors don’t have any clue what’s wrong.”

“So her heart rate is nothin’.  She’s cold as ice.  She’s hurt when the sun shines on her.”  He looked around at the others, who were all nodding.  “So if we’re dealing with magic,” Armani ventured.  “Maybe she’s a f**kin’ vampire.”

“We’re dealing with John Edwards or Harry Potter type of magic, not Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Dusk ‘Til Dawn magic.”  Rebecca said.  “She’s a little girl with a medical problem.  Not a bloodsucking beast.  Note the lack of bloodsucking around here.”

“Well if you would have seen what I saw at that bar you’d think something different.”  Armani looked a little shaken.

“You’re freaking me out, Armani.  Give me your gun before you get crazy.”  Devin said.

“The way that man was torn to shreds…” Armani was pale.  “Maybe we are dealing with something… something big and something bad.”

Devin smacked Armani.  Some color came to the big man’s face.  “Yeah, that’s a bit crazy.”  He shrugged and coughed.  “I was just joking anyway.”

The wave of tension that had flooded the room ebbed out.  “F**king vampires.”

“Yeah, f**kin' vampires.  Buffy’s hot though…”

“Yeah… I’d nail her.”  Devin said.

“Me too,” Meadow concurred.

Rebecca shook her head.  “Ok, so not vampires, but it’s not unreasonable that this could have something to do with magic.”

Meadow nodded.  “Yeah, blood is often associated with powerful magic.  What if Sammy was using Lisa’s blood in order to power some kind of magic?  Should we call Wendy?”

“If something they use needs blood then that’s reasonable.  I’ll make the call.”  Rebecca left the room, pulling her cell phone out.

“I don’t think any f**kin' human did what I saw in the bar though…”

Rebecca returned a few minutes later.  “She didn’t know anything specific about the bear needing blood.  It’s used to talk to the dead.  But blood is a powerful tool in magic, and it can be used to tie a person to magic.  Like, to draw energy from a person.  She really wasn’t much help.  And she says she isn’t a vampire.”

●​
_9:00 AM, Tuesday, July 20th
Motel 6, Newport News, Virginia_

Quin punched the digits into his cell phone as he pulled into the parking lot of the motel.  Rebecca’s voice mail picked up.  “Hey Becca.  I’m gonna check out from the old motel here in a bit.  Give me a call when you get the chance and let me know what’s happening.”  He clicked off the phone as he pulled into a parking spot behind the motel.

_Better check to make sure we didn’t leave anything there_, he said to himself.  He hopped out of the car and it beeped at him as the alarm armed itself.  Five minutes later he was leaving the motel room.  Thirty seconds after that he was gasping for air and fighting against the hooded man holding a foul-smelling cloth over his face.  Twenty seconds after that he was unconscious.

●​
_1:00 PM, Tuesday, July 20th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

Rebecca entered the small hospital room having left to check her voice mail.  “Quin called a bit ago, said he was checking out from the old hotel.  Oh, and Professor Gallivan is on his way here.  He wants to see how Lisa’s doing and he wanted to talk to us about some other stuff.”

Professor Gallivan showed up at the hospital at 2 PM.  Rebecca, Meadow and Armani met him in the waiting room.  “How’s the little girl.”

“No change.  We think Sammy Nickels had something to do with it, but when Armani went to talk to him…”  Rebecca filled the professor in on what Armani had seen.  “Armani thinks it’s vampires.  I think maybe Sammy was using Lisa’s blood in some kind of magic ceremony with the bear.”

“I don’t think vampires are likely.  And since Lisa wasn’t with Sammy when he got the bear I don’t think the two are related – at least not that directly.”  He shrugged.  “I do have some information about what might have happened at the bar though.”

Martin told them that some of the more militant member’s of Wendy’s coven had gone to recover the Messenger of the Dead from Sammy the night before.  They haven’t been heard from since.  

“Same motherf**kers that was at the McDonalds?  Same outfits?” Armani asked.

“Yes.  I think they were clothed the same.”

“Then that’s what I saw.  I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies.  I’ve seen a lot of weird sh*t.  I ain’t never seen nothing like I saw there.”

“It sounds like the job went foul.  Miss Johnson has not been very forthcoming about what she knows about it.”

“It doesn’t sound like she’s been forthcoming about much, Martin,” Rebecca said.  “Do you really thing you want to be working with her?”

“I don’t think I want to… but I think I need to.”  Martin Gallivan looked stern.  “I don’t want you to question my decisions.”

Rebecca bristled.  “Well your DECISIONS have gotten my friends shot, maybe this little girl hurt, maybe others dead.”  Rebecca’s voice was getting louder.  “So I think I have EVERY right to question them.  Why are you working with this woman?”

Gallivan’s shoulders slumped under Rebecca’s tirade.  “Wendy didn’t do this.  And she didn’t want anyone to get hurt that night at McDonalds.  But she isn’t the only power in their coven.  The other power, Rain, is more militant.  She’s the one that shot Armani and Devin that night.  She’s more certain that recovering the bear is worth any cost.”  Martin was holding his head in his hands.  “I don’t know who is right.  I just know that the bear is the only chance I have to find out what happened to my daughter, and I will get it back.”  He looked up again.  “Rain went after Sammy last night with her group.  It sounds like she failed.  Sammy has the bear then.”

“Maybe.  But there were two bodies in the front, and who knows where else.  It’s impossible to tell who came out ahead,” Meadow said.

“F**k it.  She may have failed, but she ain’t me.  I say let’s go get the motherf**ker.”  Armani was standing again and looking anything but shaken.  “We’ll get the damn bear.  We’ll beat an answer out of Sammy.  Maybe we’ll even pull down some cash.”

“Well I think the scene bears further investigation anyway,” Meadow said.

“I agreed,” agreed Rebecca.  “Let’s head over there and see what we can find out.  Even if Sammy's gone we might be able to find out something from the scene.”

Rebecca went up to Lisa’s room to fill Devin in on what they had planned.  

“Find out what you can.  I ought to stay here with Lisa.”  Devin squeezed Lisa’s limp hand.  “I need to be here if she wakes up… or doesn’t.”

“I’m so sorry Devin."  Rebecca wiped her eyes.  "Have a pepper spray.”

●​
_5:00 PM, Tuesday, July 20th
”Nickels”, Williamsburg, Virginia_

Armani, Meadow, and Professor Gallivan stayed in the parked car a block away from the remains of Sammy’s bar.  Several police cars were parked in front of the building and the area was roped off.  A couple of cops were outside, talking.  

Rebecca crouched under a strip of CRIME SCENE tape and approached the cuter of the two policemen – no wedding ring.  “Do you know what happened here?”  The other policeman quickly scuttled off to avoid getting wrapped up in dealing with the pesky civilian.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave, miss.  This is a crime scene and we are currently in the middle of an investigation.”

“I might know people who were involved and I’m just trying to find out what happened to them.”

The young policeman pulled out a notepad and pen.  “May I have your name please?”

“Susan Smith,” said Rebecca Michaels.

“And who do you know that might be involved in this?”

“I know some people who MAY have been here last night.  I’m worried because I haven’t heard from them.”

He scribbled some notes on his pad.  “And who is it you are concerned with, Miss Smith?”

“Fred Michaels,” Rebecca said, beginning the process of throwing off the entire investigation.

“And could you describe Fred Michaels for me please?”  Scribble scribble scribble.

“About 6 feet tall.  Brown hair.  Brown eyes.  Caucasian.”

“And why do you believe he would have been here last night?”

Rebecca looked at the young policeman like he was a puppy who just peed on the couch.  “…It’s a… bar…”

The policeman looked a little embarrassed.  “Ahem.  Um… did he say he was coming to this bar in particular?”

“Yes.”

“Oh… ok.  And…”

“And he didn’t come home this morning.  I’m concerned.”

“So this is a CLOSE friend of yours?”

“Yes.”

“Are you living with Mr. Michaels?”

“No.”

“Ooooh… um… were you staying at Mr. Michaels’ house last night?”

“No.”

“Umm… ok… um… please wait here for a minute, Miss Smith.”  The policeman turned to walk into the bar.  Rebecca followed him.  He spun.  “Miss!  Please wait here.  This is a crime scene!”

“Well, there’s no sense in you walking in and out.  I’ll just come along.”  Rebecca smiled innocently.

“It’s a CRIME SCENE!  You might… leave footprints.. or something.”  The cop looked flustered, torn between duty to police force and duty to hot chick.  “Please Miss, just stay here.”

“Ok, I’ll wait right here.”  As the cop entered the bar Rebecca peered through the doorway into the bar.  She saw several other policemen investigating the area.  A couple stood behind the bar taking pictures.  The chalk outline of a couple feet poked out from behind the bar.  Two doors stood open at the back of the bar.  The young policeman she’d been conversing with talked to one of the men behind the bar.  He shook his head, said something, then returned to investigating the scene.  The young cop returned.

“There was no Fred Michaels here.” 

“Well… he doesn’t always go by that name…”  Rebecca paused.  “…when he’s been drinking I mean.”

“Miss Smith.  Let me get your phone number and I’ll call you if we find anything else or have any other questions.”

Rebecca’s saleswoman brain flurried.  “I’m afraid my purse was stolen.  It.. it had my cell phone in it.”

“Do you have any way we can get ahold of you?  Home address?  Home phone?”

“Uh… sure.  Here’s the phone number to the hotel I’m staying in.”  The policeman wrote down the digits.

“Is that where you were planning to meet Fred Michaels at?”

“Yes.”  Rebecca paused.  “What about… John Richards?... There was a bachelor party last night.  They were all going.  There would have been a group of them.”  Rebecca was on a roll.  “None of them came home.  I called all the wives and girlfriends. None of them came home.”

“Just between the two of us, Miss Smith, I don’t think it was a bachelor party.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It does not look like a bachelor party in there.”

“Well NOW it doesn’t!”  Rebecca smacked the cop with a ‘duh’ look.  “That’s why I’m concerned!”

“The people in there weren’t dressed like people dress for a bachelor party.”

Oh yeah, Rebecca thought.  The burglar outfits.  “Well they were all dressed in costumes for the bachelor party.”

“What kind of costumes?”

“Zorro.”

The cop looked a little shocked.  “Umm…”  He looked down at his notebook to avoid eye contact with the soon to be grieving widow.  “Miss… I’ll have to contact you when I have more information.”

Rebecca let a tear fall down her cheek.  “Can you…”  She let one more fall.  “Can you just tell me how many…”  Two more tears.  Don’t overdo it, Becca.  “… how many there were?”

The cop looked around, nervous.  “There were three men in this bar… dressed like your friends might have been.  They didn’t make it through the night.”  Rebecca sobbed.  “There were some others, miss.  Please, just return home and we’ll call you when we know more.”

Rebecca returned to the car and filled the others in.

“I’d like to talk to Wendy about this.  She needs to know what happened,” Professor Gallivan said.

●​
_7:00 PM, Tuesday, July 20th
Riverside Community Hospital, Newport News, Virginia_

“Any change?”  Meadow was sitting next to Devin in the hospital room.

Devin looked downtrodden.  “They cranked up the heat on her electric blanket to keep her temperature from dropping even more.  Does that count?”  Devin punched the chair arm.  “Other than that, not a goddamn thing has changed.”

“Things will get better, Devin.”  Meadow put her hand on Devin’s shoulder.  “They have to.”


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 19, 2005)

And here I just have to add, for the record, that Rebecca's exchange where she's investigating the murders at Sammy's place was almost verbatim from a recording we made.  Everyone at the table was laughing their asses off and I remember wiping a lot of tears from my eyes as I tried to keep a straight face.


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## pogre (Mar 19, 2005)

Wow! You're cranking now PK - keep on rockin'!


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 19, 2005)

pogre said:
			
		

> Wow! You're cranking now PK - keep on rockin'!




Gotta get it done!  Should be finished by Thursday... (hopefully)


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 19, 2005)

*Massacre to the Left, Massacre to the Right*

_6:00 PM, Tuesday, July 20th
Somewhere dark and uncomfortable_

Quin awoke with a throbbing headache and a shooting pain in his left hand.  Before he opened his eyes he knew he was bound – arms and legs tied to a chair, a gag in his mouth.  He slowly opened his eyes and pain shot through his face and his head rocked to the left.  He’d been smacked.  He was in a basement, sparsely furnished and barely lit.  Cement walls and floor, no decorations.  He was in a chair – metal.

“Damn, dude!”  He tried to say.  It came out “Dmmm, dddd!” around the gag. He redirected his gaze to the source of the blow.  A middle aged man, graying at the temples but obviously very lean and muscular – the force of the blow alone had shown him that.  His face stung but the real pain was in his left hand, so he glanced at it.  “What the f**k!!!” he tried to say – “WMMM MMM MMK!!!”  His left pinky was gone, chopped off at the first knuckle.  It looked like the wound itself had been cauterized shut, but the pain belied its appearance.

The man seated across from him looked down at a New York driver’s license.  “Alright, Mister Quinton Stark III.  It seems I have your attention.  Now I want you to tell me everything you know about Armani Determan.”  He looked up from the license at Quinton’s terrified face.  “And rest assured, if you f**k with me that little finger of yours will be joined by numerous friends.”  

"DMMM, FMFMM SMMF."

The man reached forward and tore the gag from Quin’s mouth.  “Talk.”

“Dude, this sucks.”

●​
_6:30 PM, Tuesday, July 20th
Riverside General Hospital_

Rebecca answered her cell phone.  “The guy with the gun, is he still with you?”  It was Martin Gallivan’s voice.  He sounded out of breath.

“He’s somewhere.  Why?”

“I need him here.  There’s something strange going on.”

“Ya think?”  Rebecca jabbed.  Strange had taken on a completely knew meaning in the last two weeks.  “Yeah, I can find him.  What’s going on?”

Ten minutes later Rebecca, Meadow and Armani were in the Grand Am screaming down I-64 to meet Gallivan.  Meadow drove while Rebecca talked to Gallivan on the phone.  

Professor Gallivan had gone to the coven’s camp to meet Wendy and tell her about what they had discovered at Sammy’s and to discuss their next step.  He hadn’t gotten there – the sounds of screams and gunshots had stopped him a mile from the camp and he’d called for backup.  The backup was on its way.  Armani sat in the back seat, stretching his a**-kicking muscles.  

Fifteen minutes later they were pulled over on the side of the road.

“Sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t.”  Meadow was slamming her hands on the steering wheel.

“You really need to slow down at the overpasses.  They wait for you there, you know?”

“I swear.  Godd**n chicks can’t drive.  It’s not like we have a batch of illegal weapons in the f**king car.”  Armani was trying to be as stealthy as possible as he slid his pistol under the passenger seat.

“Sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t.”

“Look, we’ll make Martin pay for the ticket.”  Rebecca spoke into the phone.  “We’ll be a bit late, Martin.  Meadow just got pulled over for speeding.  It’s a double fine, Martin.  It’s a construction zone.”

“Sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t.”

“Never let a godd*mn chick drive.  If I get arrested for these weapons I’m going to beat your witch a**.”

“NOBODY is going to get arrested as long as you shut up!”  Rebecca shouted.

“Sh*t sh*t sh*t sh*t…”

Another fifteen minutes and they were on the road again, driving slightly under the speed limit.  They met Professor Gallivan at the KOA campground in Williamsburg.

“I haven’t heard the screams or gunshots for a while.”  Martin said.  “Do you have weapons?”  

“We have Armani.  And I have some pepper spray.”  Rebecca popped her trunk.  “There’s a knife in here too.  You can have it Meadow, I’m really good with pepper spray.”

Professor Gallivan pulled out his little pistol.  “It’s a secret area of the campground.  Follow.”

Martin led them up several winding paths.  “The coven dwells here.  The screams came from their camp.”  

“Why are we not calling the police?”  Meadow asked.

“The coven is involved in some illegal activities.”

“All the more reason to call the f**kin’ cops,” said Armani.

Rebecca looked a little shocked.  “For once, I agree with Armani.  If they’re involved in something illegal and it involves gunshots, then maybe the police ought to take care of it.”

“Rebecca, they have information I need.  And possibly information you and your friends need about Mr. Nickels.  If they’re arrested then we will never get that information.”

Armani nodded.  “And we don’t get to beat the f**k out of Sammy.  Let’s go in.”

“Ok, we’re going in.  But Meadow and I had better get an A+.”  

Armani and Gallivan treaded carefully down the path.  The ladies followed, knife and pepper spray at the ready.  The woods were eerily silent.  No voices.  No wildlife.  Around a bend in the path they saw a couple of cabins.  

“This is where they live.”  Martin said.  “The coven practices their craft in a clearing further down, but they sleep and eat here.”

“Their craft?”  Meadow asked.

“It’s magic, Miss McLean.  They practice their magic.”

“Do they use human blood?” Rebecca asked.

“I don’t think so.  Some practice animal sacrifice as part of their rituals, but I don’t think any use human blood.”  He shrugged.  “Some of them are very focused on the craft, at the expense of all else, but I don’t think they’d willingly harm another human unless absolutely necessary.”

“Tell Devin that.” Rebecca scowled.  “I think the bullet is still lodged in his skull.”

“Wendy didn’t want to shoot him.  In fact, she paid his hospital bill for him and went to see him several times while he was recovering.  But she is not the only powerful woman in the coven.  Others, like Rain, have more questionable morals…”  Gallivan stopped as they approached the cabins.  “Oh no…”

A body lay in front of the closest cabin.  It was a woman, hair and blood sprawled out across the steps leading from the cabin.  They saw others then, too.  Several bodies were splayed around the campground.

“There were fifteen people in the coven.  That’s Winter Wind there.  She was kind.”  Martin continued towards the cabins.  “Mellow Yellow.”  He bent over a third body.  “Lover of Puppies.”  Martin opened the door to the first cabin – empty.  The second cabin was not.  Professor Gallivan covered his mouth with his hand and staggered back.  “The rest… the rest are in there.”

“Get the f**k back to the car, Professor.  We’re done here.”  Armani grabbed Gallivan by the shoulder.  The professor twisted around and stepped towards the corpse-filled cabin.

“No.  We’re not done yet.”  He entered the cabin and rummaged around, under bodies and through lockers.  Armani inspected the other bodies, all killed by gunshots, some small caliber, some larger, but no shredded faces.

Gallivan stumbled out of the cabin a minute later, wiping vomit from his chin.  In his left hand he clutched a large leather-bound book.  “Now we’re done.”

Meadow clutched her stomach and stepped away from Gallivan as he left the cabin.

“What is that?” Rebecca asked.

“Answers.”


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 21, 2005)

*Carrots and Sticks*

_6:15 PM, Tuesday, July 20th
Riverside General Hospital_

“Not right now.” 

Devin lifted his head.  He’d been dozing off and on, utterly exhausted.  The slightest whisper, though, had woken him.  

Lisa’s eyes were open, staring at the opposite wall.  Devin leaned forward.

“Lisa?”

“I will.  But not right now.”  Lisa paused, then giggled.  “OK.”

“Who are you talking to, sis?”

“I can’t right now.  You know that.  After sunset.”

Devin looked around the room.  Empty except for the two of them.  “Lisa?  Who are you talking to, sweetie?”

“I’ll meet you after sunset.”  Lisa stopped for a moment, as though she was listening.  “You can send someone if you want, but I won’t need help.”  Lisa’s eyes closed.

Devin called a nurse then went to the lobby to tell the others.  They were gone.

●​
Rebecca, Meadow and Armani were in the Grand Am on the way back to the hospital.  Gallivan had taken the book with him and said he was going to go study the tome he had taken from the coven.  “I’ll call the police, but I need to look at this tome.  I’ll call you if I find anything.  You all do the same.”  They’d parted ways then and everyone was anxious to get back to the hospital to see how Lisa was doing.  

“Oh, I have a message.”  Rebecca looked around.  “Guess I missed it in the confusion.”  The car swerved dangerously as she dialed up her voice mail.  “It was Devin.  Lisa woke up.”

She sped the rest of the way to the hospital - *she * didn’t get pulled over.

●​
“All I know is that she said she was meeting someone at sunset.”  The others crowded around Devin in the hospital room as he explained what had happened.  “It was like she was possessed.  She wasn’t talking to me.”  He squeezed Lisa’s hand but she didn’t respond.  She hadn’t moved since her earlier episode.  “It sounds like someone might be coming to get her too.”

“Sammy?”

“Maybe.”  Devin looked at Armani.  “I want us to be ready in case.  I don’t know what we’re up against, but sunset is any minute now, and Lisa isn’t going anywhere.”  He stood up, dizzy but strong.  “I won’t let her be taken again.”

The sun dipped below the horizon.

●​
Quin reeled as the man smashed him in the face with an open palm.  Quin’s nose was bleeding and he had several small cuts on his arms.  His abductor alternated between smacking him and cutting him with a vicious dagger and asking questions about Armani and some diamond that had apparently been stolen.

“He sold something to someone, that’s all I know.”

“To who?”  Another smack and Quin’s head rocked backward, but he stayed quiet.  He knew that the moment this criminal had all the information he needed he would have no reason to keep Quin alive.  Quin clenched his teeth.

“You know that Armani stole the diamond.  You know that he sold it.”  The man ran the tip of his dagger along Quin’s arm drawing a sizzling stream of blood.  The dagger seemed to cauterize as it cut.  The pain was excruciating, but there was little blood – just an instant scar.  “And I know that you know who he sold it to.”

Quin didn’t talk.

“I’m weary of this game.”  The man picked up Qin’s driver’s license from the table.  “Quinton Stark III.”  He stood and looked at the license, brow furrowed.  “Where do I know that name from…”  He paced.  “Jonathon Stark.”  The man looked at Quin’s face for a reaction.  He got it.

Quin choked through cracked lips.  “Uncle John.”  Blood oozed down his chin.  “My uncle.”

“Killed.”  The man chuckled.  “Jonathan Stark was assassinated.”  He sat down again, knife in one hand, driver’s license in the other.  “Did you know that?”

Quin nodded.  He had moved from New York to Virginia to find his uncle’s killer.  Other things had since taken over in his life, but this one thing still drove him.  “You?”

The man smiled.  “I didn’t kill him.”  He shrugged.  “I wasn’t as good back then, Mister Stark.  Someone else got to John first.”

Quin raised his eyebrows, all pain forgotten.  “Who was it?”

“Ah, just some hit man.  There are a lot of us and we just do a job.”  He poked Quin in the chest with the knife – sizzle.  “The hit man isn’t important, Mister Stark.  But who arranged the hit… now THAT is something you probably want to know.”

Quin nodded.  “Please… tell me.”

“So this is the carrot and stick.”  The man drew the blade of the knife across his own palm.  Quin smelled the burning flesh.  “The carrot.  You tell me where the diamond is, and help me get to Armani.  I tell you who is responsible for your Uncle John’s death.”  The man placed the knife gently on Quin’s left hand, drawing the blade across the back of the hand.  “The stick.”  He rested the blade on Quin’s left wrist.  “You give me the wrong information, or you try to hold a single f**king piece of information from me again…”  With all his strength the hit man wretched the knife down and across.

Quinton Stark screamed as his gold Rolex fell to the floor.  It didn’t crack because it landed on the soft flesh of his severed hand.

“Carrot and stick, Mister Stark.”  The man set the knife on the table.  “Let’s talk.”

●​
Lisa sat up without a word and kicked her feet over the side of the bed.  Devin leapt to his feet and put his hands on Lisa’s shoulders.  “Sit down, sweetie.”

Meadow stepped up to Lisa as well.  “Careful.  You don’t want those wires to come off.”  She put her hands on the wires attached to Lisa’s chest to keep them from coming unattached.  “Rebecca, get a nurse in here.”

Rebecca was already in the hallway, calling for a nurse.  Armani was in the doorway, looking up and down the hallway.  “I don’t see no motherf**kers coming to get her.”  He looked back at Devin, whose muscles strained.  “You need help holding her down?”

“No… I can... do it...” Devin grunted.  _Lisa was never this strong_.  Lisa took a step towards the door and the IVs in her arms ripped free.  Devin staggered back, trying to push her back into bed.  “Come on... sweetie.  We need..." Grunt.  "...to get you back in bed.”  Lisa took another step towards the door and Devin slid backward, shoes squeaking along the floor as he slid.  “Ok, maybe some help.”

Meadow stepped behind Lisa and wrapped her arms around the little girl.  Armani pushed Devin aside and put his hands on Lisa’s shoulders.  The 70 pound girl threw Meadows arms off, grabbed Armani by the waist and hurled him across the room.  The huge man fell to the floor amid a pile of broken glass and hospital equipment.

“The motherf**kin’ chick’s on crack!”

Meadow stepped out of Lisa’s way as the little girl advanced out the door and into the hallway.  Devin had his arms around her shoulders and was being dragged across the floor.  “HELP ME!” he screamed.  “Don’t let her go…”

A nurse and two orderlies were sprinting down the hall towards the commotion.  Rebecca stepped out of the way as they passed and the orderlies latched onto Lisa.  She grunted only slightly as she hurled the healthy youths away from her.  They careened off the adjacent walls.  One collapsed to the floor, unconscious.  The other scrambled to his feet and stepped back as Lisa passed, dragging an ineffective (but valiant) Devin behind her.

Armani pulled himself from the mess of debris and sprinted out of the room, down the hallway, and skidded to a stop in front of Lisa.  She was advancing at a walk towards the elevators and Armani was walking backward, staying a few feet in front of her.  “You ain’t leaving here, girlie.”  

Lisa was 30 feet from the elevator doors when they dinged open.  “Hola, esse!”  Rough Eddy stepped out of the elevator.  “I think the girl wants to come with us.”  He punched an open palm with his fist.  “Don’t make me get physical.”  A mohawked crony, the same one who had accompanied Eddy at Sergent Richardson's apartment, stood to his side, trying to look tough.

Devin readjusted his grip and tried to stop Lisa – unsuccessfully.  “Don’t let them take her…” he groaned.

Armani looked over Lisa’s shoulder at Devin’s straining face.  “I’m sorry to have to do this sh*t, but we can’t stop her no other way.”  Armani stopped, squared himself, and punched Lisa in the face with the full strength of his 240 pound, muscular frame.  

Lisa’s nose crunched and her head bounced backward where it smacked Devin in the face.  He released his grip and fell to the ground.  She continued walking, unfazed.  Armani’s jaw dropped at the utter lack of damage he had done.  He had felt the nose crunch, but there was no visible damage a second later.

Rebecca rummaged in her purse looking for anything to stop the seemingly unstoppable Lisa from escaping with Sammy’s thugs.  Armani turned his back to Lisa and looked at Rough Eddy.  “I may not be able to stop her.”  His fingers searched in his jacket for his brass knuckles.  “But you motherf**kers are goin' down.”

Rough Eddy’s crony reached into his own jacket and pulled out a 9mm.  He leveled it at Armani, but he never got a chance to fire.  

Armani sprinted towards the crony and rammed his knuckles into the man’s stomach.  He keeled over and collapsed to the elevator floor.  Rough Eddy stepped away from Armani and leveled his Colt Python.  The sound of the explosion echoed through the halls of Riverside but the oversized slug scored only a glancing blow on Armani’s left arm.  “You f**ked up my jacket,”  Armani said.

Lisa was almost to the elevators when Rebecca pulled out her pepper spray.  She was fairly confident it would be ineffective, but she was out of options.  She was wrong.  As the spray coated the side of Lisa’s face the little girl screamed in agony and stopped her advance.  She turned to Rebecca, a look of animal fury in her eyes.

“Now now, Lisa,” Rebecca pleaded.  “You know I had to…”

Lisa lashed out at Rebecca, fingernails digging furrows in her face and all the way down her chest.  The force of the blow slammed Rebecca against the opposite wall.  She slid down it, unconscious and bleeding profusely from her facial wounds.  Lisa continued towards the elevator and stepped on the body of the fallen thug.

Meadow rushed to Rebecca’s aid.  She screamed at the orderly for help.  He broke his horrified stasis and rushed over to help stop the bleeding.  Devin pushed himself up from the floor, cradling a broken nose, and sprinted towards the elevator.  He spared no more than a glance at the battle between Armani and Rough Eddy and looked only at his little sister.  “Lisa, please.  Stop.”

As the elevator doors began to close Lisa whispered to Devin through narrowing space.  “Let me go or I will kill you, brother.  I will kill you all.”  The doors dinged shut and Devin barely heard the explosion of another gunshot as Rough Eddy ran down the hallway towards the stairs, firing blindly backward to stop Armani.

“Devin… Rebecca needs our help.”  Meadow was servicing the wounds on Rebecca’s face and chest, but the damage was severe.

“Yeah…”  Devin stumbled over towards Rebecca.  “Needs my help.  Needs my help.  Need help…”


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## Devin Cole (Apr 5, 2005)

erased because i jumped the gun    oops


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## Puppy Kicker (Oct 5, 2005)

*Possession*

_11:15 PM, Tuesday, July 20th
Riverside General Hospital_

“Maybe the professor can help us out with this.  I really don’t know where to turn.”  Devin said. 

Armani, Devin, and Meadow stood outside Rebecca’s room as the doctors worked.  The wounds were severe but they thought she would pull through.  Police had come and gone, interviewing those involved in the shooting and brawl.  Devin had told them that he knew the man who took Lisa and the police had assured him that they would find his sister.  No mention had been made of her super-human strength and cryptic remarks.  The body of the thug Armani had killed had vanished and nobody brought it up.

Meadow rummaged through Rebecca’s purse.  “I’m pretty sure Becca had the professor’s number in her cell phone.  I’ll give him a call.”  She gazed in at the doctors working on Rebecca.  “Goddess knows we need to do something.  I can’t just wait here.”

“I need to kick some motherf***in’ ass.”  Armani was sitting, slamming his huge fists into each other.  

Meadow pulled a cell phone from Rebecca’s purse and started scrolling through some numbers.  “Here it is.  I’ll give him a call and see what he knows.”

Armani and Devin looked up at Meadow’s shocked face.  From halfway across the hall they could hear the screaming coming from the earpiece of the cell phone.  

“Professor?”  Meadow’s eyes were wide.  “Professor, what’s wrong!?”  She flipped the phone shut.  “He’s babbling, screaming.  I think he needs our help!”

Armani and Devin stood.  Devin said “I’ll stay with Rebecca.  You two go see what’s wrong.”  As Meadow and Armani started to leave he grabbed Armani’s shoulder.  “If she’s there… just… don’t hurt my sister.”

Armani grinned.  “Couldn’t if I wanted to.  That’s one tough bitch… er… yeah…  I won’t.”

Armani and Meadow sprinted to Rebecca’s car. 

●​
“All the lights are out.  I don’t hear anything.”

Meadow and Armani stood outside Professor Gallivan’s house in Williamsburg.  It was a picture of scenic suburban life – neatly mowed laws all along a neatly maintained street with neatly detailed vans and SUVs parked all in a row.  Nothing was amiss.

Armani started walking towards the front door.  “Let’s break in and see what’s f***ed up in there.  The motherf***er was screaming.  Something’s wrong.”

Meadow grabbed him.  “No.”  She pointed at the lighted houses all along the suburban street.  “We can’t just break into this guy’s house.  People will see.”

“You’re right.  I’ll break in through the back door.”  Armani jogged around towards the back of the house, hurdling a fence before Meadow could stop him.  She sighed and walked up towards the front door.  A minute later a muffled crashing sound came from the back of the house, and another minute later the front door opened.  “Come on in, witch-lady.”

“See anything?”

“Nothing between the back door and here.  Some f***ed up noises coming from down the hallway though.”  Armani led the way towards a back room.  From behind a closed door groaning and thumping noises could be heard.  A flickering light seeped from beneath the door.

“The professor’s in there.  Something must be wrong.”

“Or maybe he’s just f***in’.  Even stuffy old a**holes like him need to get laid sometimes.”  Armani didn’t look like he believed his own words.

Meadow slowly twisted the door handle and pushed on the door – it moved an inch and stopped, blocked by something heavy.  The groaning noises got louder.  “Help me with this, Armani.”

Armani put his shoulder down and slammed into the door, hurling it open.  His momentum carried him into the room and he almost tripped over Professor Gallivan’s prone form.  “What the f***'s wrong with you?”

The professor screamed as he looked up at Armani and then continued what he’d been doing – repeatedly stabbing himself in the hand with a pencil.  Blood poured from his mangled right hand and from several scratches all along his right arm.  The professor was mumbling and groaning as he desecrated his own flesh.  “It knows… it knows too much….”

“Stop him!” Meadow shrieked.

Armani yanked the pencil from the professor’s hand, but Gallivan was unperturbed.  He began chewing on his right hand, tearing chunks of flesh off with his teeth.  “Mmmmm… tasty knowledge….”

Armani sighed.  “Pretty f***in’ stupid for such a smart guy.”  Armani punched the professor on the top of the head and he collapsed, unconscious.

“We need to get him to the hosp…”  Meadow keeled over, spewing vomit all over the professor.  “… to the hospital.  Bring him…”  She threw up again.

“You are one disgusting b****.”  Armani grabbed Professor Gallivan by the leg and drug him to the doorway.  “When you’re done puking come help me with this a**hole.”  Armani vanished down the hallway, the professor in tow.

Meadow was dry-heaving in the corner.  “What’s wrong with me?”  

_Come to me._

“Who is….”  Heave.  “Who’s there?”

_Take me.  I’m yours._

Meadow heaved again and then her eyes settled on the book resting on the professor’s desk.  It was open and the pages seemed to be moving as though a breeze was shuffling them.

_Yours._

“That’s the book from the coven.”  As Meadow approached it the sickness in her stomach increased.  “You… what are you?”

_Answers._

Meadow’s fingers touched the book.  “You burn.”

_Take me._

Meadow slammed the book shut and the waves of sickness ebbed.  “You’re mine.”

No voice answered.

She rushed out of the house to see Armani trying to stuff Professor Gallivan into the back seat of Rebecca’s little car.  The professor was twisted, quite accidentally, into a yoga position known as _the fornicating octopus_.  Meadow helped Armani get the prof into the back seat, slid the book under the driver’s seat, and hopped in.

“Let’s get him to the hospital.”

“I don’t think he’s going to give us any f***in’ answers now.”

“We’ll get our answers.”  Meadow’s hand rested on the edge of the book protruding from the driver’s seat.  “Sweet answers.”

“Hope so.”  Armani glanced at the professor.  “You think Mary Kay chick’s gonna mind all the blood and puke in her back seat?”


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## Devin Cole (Oct 7, 2005)

Just wanted to say welcome back puppy kicker....the wait is over....more broke adventures of Devin Cole and his Super Friends.....


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## Puppy Kicker (Oct 7, 2005)

Thanks, Devin!  It's been a long few months, but the action is about to get hot n' heavy again.  Hope you brought your bandages...


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## Puppy Kicker (Oct 12, 2005)

*Chapter 22 – Quin Got De-Fingered*

_9:45 AM, Wednesday, July 21st
Riverside General Hospital_

“How are you feeling?”

Devin was sitting next to Rebecca’s bed.  The doctors were done and she was stitched up.  Her face and chest were severely damaged, but she was going to be all right.

“I’ve been better.  Can I have a mirror, Devin?”

“Oh, Becca…”  Devin shuffled his feet and looked at the floor.  “Why don’t you just get some more sleep…”

“Pretty bad?”  Rebecca reached up and gently touched the stitches on her face.

Devin looked up again.  “You got cut up pretty bad, yeah.”

“Will it get better?”

“Doctors say it should heal.  You can leave today if you need.”

“Good enough then.  Lisa?”

Devin walked over to the window and stared at the closed blinds.  “They got her…”  His hands were clenched behind his back.  “Well, she got away anyway.  I don’t even know if they really helped.  She’s strong, Becca.  She’s not right.”  He turned around again.  “She threatened to kill us all.”

“We’ll save her, Devin.”

“Sure we will.”  He wiped his eyes as Meadow and Armani walked into the room.

“How are you feeling, Rebecca?” Meadow asked.

“Lookin’ good, girlie.  Hey, we f***ed up your car.”

“I’m feeling better, Meadow, just… what about my car?”

Meadow and Armani explained what they’d found at Professor Gallivan’s house and the side effects that had gotten all over Rebecca’s car.  Meadow mentioned that she had looked over the book a bit, but it had given her headaches, so she’d given up “just for now.”  

“Quin back yet?” Rebecca asked.

The others looked at each other.  “When did he leave?”

“He was going to close out the old hotel room.”  Rebecca looked around for her purse before realizing she was equipped with nothing more than a hospital robe.  “Uh, Meadow?”

Meadow scowled.  “Sure, I’ll call him.”  She left the room, rummaging in her bag.  A couple minutes later she came back.  “No answer.  Probably forgot he was supposed to check out and is still sleeping there.”

Rebecca inched her way out of bed.  “The way things have been going I don’t think we can assume that.”  She stood up.  “I think we ought to go check it out.”

Armani inched to the other side of the bed, behind Rebecca.  “Yeah, I think girlie’s right…”

“Oh, great to have YOU on my side… what are you LOOKING at!”  Rebecca spun around and glared at Armani, clamping the back of the hospital gown shut with both hands.  “You are just… arrggggg… GROSS.”

Meadow sighed.  “Let’s just go check the hotel out.  You ought to stay here, Rebecca.  You’re still a little beat up.”

“Oh, I can’t stay in this little room with lecherous little thugs trying to get in my pants.  Let’s go.”

●​
_9:45 AM, Wednesday, July 21st
Motel 6, Newport News, Virginia_

Quin, Armani, Devin and Meadow stood gazing into the shattered passenger window of a shiny BMW M3.  It was parked in the back lot of the Motel 6, mostly obscured from the casual observer by a couple of trees.

“Oh God oh God oh God oh God…”  Rebecca stammered as she backed away from the Beemer’s broken window, unable to remove her eyes from the nastiness lying on the passenger seat.

“Guess the motherf***er ran across the wrong guys.  Tough s**t.”  Armani nonchalantly picked up the severed finger and gave it a squeeze.  The bloody stump was fully congealed and no blood oozed out.  Armani squeezed it harder just in case.  “Oh, a note.”

Armani leaned into the broken window of Quinton’s BMW and pulled a note from the bloody passenger seat.  A couple minutes ago he had used a nearby rock to shatter the window and had gotten a little cut on his finger in the process.  He sucked at the wound while he read the note.

“I haf’ your fr’e’d.  Do not ca’ da po’ice.” Armani looked around at the confused looks.  He pulled his finger out of this mouth and continued.  “Do not call anyone else.  Call 757-445-6301.  I want the gem, you want your friend.  We will arrange a deal.”

“Let’s call it!” Devin said.

"What gem?" Rebecca asked.

“Let’s get the f*** out of here first.”  Armani looked around, warily.  “I just busted the window on a pricey car.  Someone’s gonna f***in’ care and they’re gonna call the f***in’ cops.”

Rebecca nodded.  “Yeah, let’s hop in the car and get out of here.”  She watched in horror as Armani tossed the finger in the air and tried to catch it behind his back.  He missed and it fell to the dirty pavement.  He quickly snatched it up.  Rebecca covered her mouth.  “You don’t need to bring that, Armani.”

Meadow stepped forward, eyes wide.  “Yes, we DO!”  She grabbed the finger from Armani and pulled some tissue from her bag.  “Quin might want it.” 

Armani grinned.  “Yeah, a f***in’ memento of our lovely time together.”

“No, thug-d**khead, to have it reattached.”

Devin opened his mouth.  He was going to say “No, Meadow.  The finger has obviously been severed for quite some time and there is no realistic way it can be reattached.  In fact, the chances of us finding Quin alive are pretty close to nothing.  In fact, we’re probably wasting our time even pursuing this and we ought to concentrate on activities that will not get any of us shot in the head.”

Instead he said, “Yeah, let’s keep it for Quin.  He might want it.”  Meadow wrapped the finger in tissue and gently placed it in her bag.

They all piled into Rebecca’s Grand Am and covered their noses – the vomit smell was especially pungent before the A/C kicked in – and discussed their plans while Devin pulled the car away from the scene of the crime.


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## johndaw16 (Oct 12, 2005)

Hey man, good to see the story hour back in action.  Funny enough mine has fallen by the wayside as well.  Coincidentlly my party in our d20 game spent inordinate amounts of time stuck in Riverside recovering.  Keep up the good work.  

Later


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