"Passengers bound for Whitecap City may now board at Gate Seven," the unemotional voice declared.
Max,
who had his nose buried in a book by Gregory Bateson called "Mind and
Nature", glanced at his watched and smiled. He closed the book and
dropped it in his travel bag. Mags was lying next to him on the seat. He
shook her; Mags eyes flickered open and her hand reached for her back.
Then she smiled.
"That's us," Max said as he stood up. "Gate Seven."
Mags stood and stretched; she had fallen asleep 45 minutes ago, and now she was ready for action.
"You sure about this?" she asked.
"I
am damn sure about this," Max replied. Both of them headed towards the
Gate. On the way there Mags stopped and shuddered a bit.
"What's the matter?" Max asked. "A shift occurring?"
"I think so," Mags replied.
20130618
When the Morning Comes
His name was Max and he had perched himself, like a gargoyle, on the
roof of the building. He knew that there was something wrong with him, but he
didn't know what it was. He just knew that there was something beyond
what he was seeing, if only he could reach the tapestry to pull it
open.
Lately in life he had been living one day at a time, hiding in his bedroom away from the world. It was very rarely that he ventured forth, since his room was like a safe haven to him. On rare occasions he found himself on the rooftop, looking over the city.
He muttered, "What's the matter with me?" And waiting for the the city to answer, he felt that the city was like some entity that was waiting for the right moment to say something profound.
He knew something was happening, but he had attributed that to growing older, since growing older your body goes through some changes.
He had become invisible. Because Invisibles lived.
Max sat perched on the edge of the building. His fingers fiddling with a pencil, twirling it like a baton. He had a sketchbook in his hands.
The sketchbook was decorated with drawings of cities, faces, peoples, and other weird drawings. He began to sketch in the book; dawn was approaching.
"Time to snap out of it," Max whispered to himself.
The morning breeze swept over him like a mother covering a child. After all, he was 11 years old and his whole life was ahead of him.
Lately in life he had been living one day at a time, hiding in his bedroom away from the world. It was very rarely that he ventured forth, since his room was like a safe haven to him. On rare occasions he found himself on the rooftop, looking over the city.
He muttered, "What's the matter with me?" And waiting for the the city to answer, he felt that the city was like some entity that was waiting for the right moment to say something profound.
He knew something was happening, but he had attributed that to growing older, since growing older your body goes through some changes.
He had become invisible. Because Invisibles lived.
Max sat perched on the edge of the building. His fingers fiddling with a pencil, twirling it like a baton. He had a sketchbook in his hands.
The sketchbook was decorated with drawings of cities, faces, peoples, and other weird drawings. He began to sketch in the book; dawn was approaching.
"Time to snap out of it," Max whispered to himself.
The morning breeze swept over him like a mother covering a child. After all, he was 11 years old and his whole life was ahead of him.
Pilot
Max awoke in his apartment, a beeping sound emitting from one of the twelve TV sets that were on in the room. He sat up,
grabbed a remote and turned up the volume on TV 3.
He had been sleeping on the couch a lot lately; a bed didn't feel right to him anymore. Something was missing and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Not just yet. He turned his attention to the TV; Letterman was chatting with a contestant from "SpyGame".
The contestant was a tall lad, bald, and sat relaxed in the chair. Max thought he had seen the man before, though he wasn't sure that he had ever seen an episode of the reality TV show.
His cellphone rang; he reached for it and tapped the pad.
"It's a go," the feminine voice said on the other end. "It's got to be good."
Max taps the cellphone off and looks up.
He's startled for the moment, as he finds himself sitting around a table in Bunny's, a seedy strip-club owned by Fat Eddy.
Around the table sits: a monk, Callan; an off-duty detective, Dex Washington; and a mysterious woman who just went by the name of Wraith. He knows these people, he has been with them a few times now, and they are starting to become a family.
Felix Gavin is coming back from the bathroom. He sees Max sitting there, looking distracted.
"What's the matter, Max?" Felix asks, slapping Max on the back. Felix slides into the chair next to him.
"How long was I here?" Max asks; he checks his watch to see that the time is 8pm.
"You walked through the doors about a half hour ago," Felix replies. He looks at Max, trying to read his face.
"15 hours," Max mutters.
Max looks down at his clothes: jeans, a neon orange t-shirt with the words "Pilot Episode" on it.
"Did anyone just feel that?" Max asks.
"Feel what?" Wraith asks. She is dressed in black clothing and her hair is shoulder length.
"Something," Max says. He realizes that the rest don't sense what he is going through.
Around him the others sit there chatting, waiting for their contact who has the information they need. Max's cellphone buzzes.
"Isn't this all too convenient?" Max asks Callan. "Us being here, sitting around all of sudden - like waiting for something to happen?"
Cellphone buzzes again.
"Life is mysterious, Max," Callan replies. "It's these mysteries that keep us alert and on guard."
Max brings the phone up.
"Make it look good," the voice says. "The teaser had them intrigued enough. The next scene determines the outcome. Do something freaky in a few seconds."
He had been sleeping on the couch a lot lately; a bed didn't feel right to him anymore. Something was missing and he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Not just yet. He turned his attention to the TV; Letterman was chatting with a contestant from "SpyGame".
The contestant was a tall lad, bald, and sat relaxed in the chair. Max thought he had seen the man before, though he wasn't sure that he had ever seen an episode of the reality TV show.
His cellphone rang; he reached for it and tapped the pad.
"It's a go," the feminine voice said on the other end. "It's got to be good."
Max taps the cellphone off and looks up.
He's startled for the moment, as he finds himself sitting around a table in Bunny's, a seedy strip-club owned by Fat Eddy.
Around the table sits: a monk, Callan; an off-duty detective, Dex Washington; and a mysterious woman who just went by the name of Wraith. He knows these people, he has been with them a few times now, and they are starting to become a family.
Felix Gavin is coming back from the bathroom. He sees Max sitting there, looking distracted.
"What's the matter, Max?" Felix asks, slapping Max on the back. Felix slides into the chair next to him.
"How long was I here?" Max asks; he checks his watch to see that the time is 8pm.
"You walked through the doors about a half hour ago," Felix replies. He looks at Max, trying to read his face.
"15 hours," Max mutters.
Max looks down at his clothes: jeans, a neon orange t-shirt with the words "Pilot Episode" on it.
"Did anyone just feel that?" Max asks.
"Feel what?" Wraith asks. She is dressed in black clothing and her hair is shoulder length.
"Something," Max says. He realizes that the rest don't sense what he is going through.
Around him the others sit there chatting, waiting for their contact who has the information they need. Max's cellphone buzzes.
"Isn't this all too convenient?" Max asks Callan. "Us being here, sitting around all of sudden - like waiting for something to happen?"
Cellphone buzzes again.
"Life is mysterious, Max," Callan replies. "It's these mysteries that keep us alert and on guard."
Max brings the phone up.
"Make it look good," the voice says. "The teaser had them intrigued enough. The next scene determines the outcome. Do something freaky in a few seconds."
Hospital Occurrence
"Where am I?" asked Mags. She startled the nurse beside her, who was just doing her rounds.
"Well, hello there Jane," the nurse said, regaining her composure; she hated when that happened. "How you feeling?"
"I feel fine," Mags replied, trying to garner where she was. "But I am awfully dry."
The nurse poured a glass of ice water and handed it to her. She cautioned Maggie on gulping it down. "Now, now, you have gone through an ordeal. Let's take it one sip at a time."
"How long have I been sleeping?" she asked.
"You have been here for thirteen days," the nurse replied. "You were brought in by an elderly couple who found you naked on the the side of the road."
"Naked? What happened?" Maggie asked.
"That's what we would like to know," the nurse replied with a fake smile. "I will fetch the doctor."
The nurse disappeared out the sliding door. Mags looked around and didn't recognize anything at all. That must of been some shift, she thought; a radical change it was.
She swung her feet around and sat up. She felt weak and tired, though she knew that she had been out for days. She brought up her right hand and looked at it, and smiled.
"It's good to see you again pinky," she said. She watched it dance for a few seconds. Then she stood up. She removed the hospital gown and looked at her body. It was pocked marked with over a dozen old bullet wounds.
"Well, some things never change," she said.
She walked over to the closet with the name Jane Doe on the label. Inside there was a nice dress, folded, and a note on it signed The Hendelsons. With that was a twenty dollar bill. Probably the old folks who brought her in; she would have to find them and repay them.
She slipped into the dress; it was a nice light colour, and she was thankful that it wasn't a floral print. She looked at herself in the mirror and she smiled. She looked like a student out for a day at the beach.
"Well now, Jane," Dr. Vestlen said as he entered. "It's nice to see you up and about, but I doubt you will be leaving us anytime soon."
Maggie looked over at the good doctor and smiled. "Just stretching my legs after being off them for awhile."
"Well, we have a few questions to ask you... When you came in you had 14 bullet wounds in your body, but no sign of any bullets. And it's amazing that you managed to survive," the doctor said. He motioned for Maggie to sit on the bed. Maggie moved to the bed.
She looked down on the scars on her body, and was quite shocked, since they looked like old scars. "You mean the bullet wounds were just recent?"
The doctor took out a penlight and shined it into her eyes; she turned her head as advised to do so, and the doctor looked inside her ears. That's when she noticed the flowers sitting on the stand.
"Who sent me those?" she asked the nurse.
The nurse said, "You know, I'm not sure... They arrived this morning..." The nurse plucked the card from the flowers and opened it. "'See you soon, LEGACY.'"
That's when Maggie pushed the doctor aside and dove out the fourth floor window.
"Well, hello there Jane," the nurse said, regaining her composure; she hated when that happened. "How you feeling?"
"I feel fine," Mags replied, trying to garner where she was. "But I am awfully dry."
The nurse poured a glass of ice water and handed it to her. She cautioned Maggie on gulping it down. "Now, now, you have gone through an ordeal. Let's take it one sip at a time."
"How long have I been sleeping?" she asked.
"You have been here for thirteen days," the nurse replied. "You were brought in by an elderly couple who found you naked on the the side of the road."
"Naked? What happened?" Maggie asked.
"That's what we would like to know," the nurse replied with a fake smile. "I will fetch the doctor."
The nurse disappeared out the sliding door. Mags looked around and didn't recognize anything at all. That must of been some shift, she thought; a radical change it was.
She swung her feet around and sat up. She felt weak and tired, though she knew that she had been out for days. She brought up her right hand and looked at it, and smiled.
"It's good to see you again pinky," she said. She watched it dance for a few seconds. Then she stood up. She removed the hospital gown and looked at her body. It was pocked marked with over a dozen old bullet wounds.
"Well, some things never change," she said.
She walked over to the closet with the name Jane Doe on the label. Inside there was a nice dress, folded, and a note on it signed The Hendelsons. With that was a twenty dollar bill. Probably the old folks who brought her in; she would have to find them and repay them.
She slipped into the dress; it was a nice light colour, and she was thankful that it wasn't a floral print. She looked at herself in the mirror and she smiled. She looked like a student out for a day at the beach.
"Well now, Jane," Dr. Vestlen said as he entered. "It's nice to see you up and about, but I doubt you will be leaving us anytime soon."
Maggie looked over at the good doctor and smiled. "Just stretching my legs after being off them for awhile."
"Well, we have a few questions to ask you... When you came in you had 14 bullet wounds in your body, but no sign of any bullets. And it's amazing that you managed to survive," the doctor said. He motioned for Maggie to sit on the bed. Maggie moved to the bed.
She looked down on the scars on her body, and was quite shocked, since they looked like old scars. "You mean the bullet wounds were just recent?"
The doctor took out a penlight and shined it into her eyes; she turned her head as advised to do so, and the doctor looked inside her ears. That's when she noticed the flowers sitting on the stand.
"Who sent me those?" she asked the nurse.
The nurse said, "You know, I'm not sure... They arrived this morning..." The nurse plucked the card from the flowers and opened it. "'See you soon, LEGACY.'"
That's when Maggie pushed the doctor aside and dove out the fourth floor window.
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