A poetic journey through my mind

Fiction Relay: Suzi’s Saga Chapter 38

(Once again I get to play in the awesome writers playground that is the shared story, “Suzi’s Saga” or “A symphony in Blue”.  ;p  Hopefully you’ve read some of the other chapters, but if not and you want to catch up, follow this link to find links to the other 37 chapters, and even the names of the perpetrators of this deed.  Here’s to my fellow FR’ers…hope you like it!)

With a squeal born of pure rage and hysteria, Melissa stared wide-eyed at the apparition, the sudden appearance of the hated one temporarily destroying her fragile hold on sanity. Fingers like claws, she grabbed for Blue, trying to grab her collar, eyes still locked on Suzi’s. As Suzi’s mocking grin grew wider, Melissa’s fingers groped impotently, and she turned her head…and saw an empty seat.
“Wha…what??” She scrambled across to the door, tried the latch, and shook her head again, confused. “It’s still…still locked? But…” With a snarl, she turned on Suzi, eyes glowing as she gathered her power to her…only to find the window closed as well. Scrabbling at the latch, desperate for some explanation, some…sense, she heard the sound of car horns fade in, outside, and the rush of traffic.
The window slid open, and the voice of the driver drifted back, sounding bored and impatient. “You ok, lady? Need some help getting out? We’re here…” Baffled, she looked to the car windows, and saw the street in front of her hotel, as noisy and real as if it’d never gone away. “I…”
~Come on, Mel…pull yourself together, girl. Something freaky is happening…what’s new about that? But above all we can’t let anyone know we’re upset…or inconvenienced…in any way. Just breathe…~
With a deep breath and a brush at her ruffled hair, she spoke, pitching her voice low to sound in control. “No, this’ll be fine…thank you for making such good time. How much do I owe you?” The man shrugged. “Well, with the extra stop to pick up your friend, I guess…$40?” Bemused, she pulled the money out of her bag and paid, stepping carefully and slowly out onto the well lit pavement of the hotel entrance.
As she turned to go, the man called out. “Hey! Don’t forget your “luggage”!” and she heard the trunk latch click. Moving slowly still, she moved to the open trunk, and blinked at the blanked-wrapped bundle inside. For some reason she felt as if she should recognize it…didn’t it belong to her? But the memory fell from her confused mind like water, evaporating as it went.
Blinking again, she motioned to a bellman, and asked for help carrying the bundle to her room. Following the cart, locked in her own head, she made her way to the room. Placing the bundle on the floor at the foot of the bed, she slumped down beside it, one hand resting on it…and fell asleep.

As Blue opened her eyes, the familiar walls of Spence’s room at the compound fading into view, she burst into delighted laughter, picturing the look on Melissa’s face. “Oh, lord. I wish I was there to see it. Wonder how soon it faded? Hope she made it “home”…we still need her. Need all of them, unfortunately. For now. Until mom and I are together again…”
She sobered for a moment, turning the image she’d plucked from Melissa’s mind over and over in her mind.
~Hmm…I do kinda look like her. Good. More her than him, thank god. That’ll help her recognize me, I hope…if she can’t just feel me, like I feel her.~
Still a bit dizzy from the effects of the unexpected alcohol, and the brand new feeling of “Jumping”, she sat down on Spence’s bed, briefly considering how nice a quick nap would feel. Sighing, she shook her head, and stood. “Time to go get my baby back…and show that guy what happens when he drugs the wrong person.” Grinning happily, she strode out of the room, her steps confident and sure.

In the Clubs private dining room, its panoramic glass windows looking out over the beautiful view, dominated by the sacred mountain that loomed in the distance, three pairs of eyes stared at the man calling himself Sanderson. Jose, a confused look on his face, looked at them. “You did not know this? You did not know that this…this witch, this destroyer-of-beauty, was their leader? And yet you came seeking him…” His eyes thoughtful, he settled back in his chair, watching them all now, warily.
“Sanderson” laughed, the hearty laugh of a strong man, and nodded his head to one of the brick walls. “Bring me Spencer…I need to have a word with him, and I want these folks to hear.” With a nod, the man left. He moved surprisingly lightly and silently, although he had to turn sideways to fit through the door.
“So…” “Sanderson” turned back to face the others, winking at Ephraim as he did. “You must be “Ephraim”. The Seer. It is a pleasure to meet you again. I am pleased to see that you have learned discipline and discretion as you matured.”
Chuckling at Ephraims baffled expression, he turned to Sam. “And you would be “Sam”…the See-er.” He laughed at his own joke, even though the rest just looked puzzled. “Be careful how deeply you See…some things do not -wish- to be seen, and have the power to make you regret crossing them. On the other hand, you are the father of my favorite pupil, so I can forgive you much.”
“And last, but most important…my little Suzi. I’m glad you managed to find us again, despite your sisters efforts to the contrary. She never quite trusted me for some reason..”
Startled, Suzi opened her mouth…but shut it again as the brick wall returned, ushering in a young man of about 18. As he approached the table, she gasped, fingers tightening on the table, and glanced at Sam to see if he felt it as well. Finding him looking down the table at her, she mouthed “He feels like Sammy!” and watched him nod, once, before turning to watch as “Sanderson” began to speak.
The young man stood impassively in front of the big man, almost seeming to stand at attention, military style. “You asked to see me, sir?”
When “Sanderson” spoke, they all stifled a gasp…his voice had completely changed! This voice was that of a much younger man, although still older by far than the young man…a peevish and fretful voice, used to being in control but holding on to that control with both grasping hands.
Stealthily and warily, Ephraim risked a peek at him, controlling his reaction at what he saw. A man sat in the chair, balding and middle-aged, in an approximation of a military uniform. From the markings and the younger mans attitude, Ephraim deduced that he was of a high “rank” in whatever organization he belonged to.
“Yes, soldier, I “asked to see you”. I shouldn’t have had to! What were you thinking?” The young man, presumably “Spencer”, stared resolutely at a point just over “Sandersons” shoulder as he spoke, his voice crisp. “Sir…I was tending to an asset, sir. Per your previous instructions, sir.”
Ephraim watched as the shadow-man pinched the bridge of his nose, obviously a habitual gesture, and shook his head. “Spencer…son…she’s dangerous, you know that. I don’t want you risking yourself in case…no, -when-…she goes rogue.”
The young man seemed to pull himself even straighter. “Sir…understood, sir. With all due respect, I believe I can handle her, sir. She listens to me. And, sir…grandfather believes I can handle her. That is enough for me. Sir.”
The man bristled, fists clenched in his lap under the table. “Your grandfather is no longer in charge of this organization, soldier. He is unwell, and has turned all policy making and organizational matters over to me. And I -order- you to stand down re Private Blue. Just this once…do as I say?”
Startled, Meagan clapped her hands over her mouth, senses reaching out almost automatically to “read” the boy who stood before her. Recoiling as she felt the strength of his connection to…Blue…to Sammy…she glared at him behind her hands. Sammy is 14, for gods sake!
With a crisp salute, the boy half-turned to the door. “Sir, yes sir! Understood sir!” He turned and headed out the door, still speaking, but softly now, his voice fading as he stalked down the hall. “…comprehende…gotcha…dohn…comprendre…”
Shaking his head, “Sanderson” settled back, looking back to Meagan. (Ephraim watched the shadow-man fade, and the coyote-man come to the fore once again) “I apologize for that. The boy has his own brand of courage, true…but much like your Sammy, not an ounce of discipline.”
Meagan frowned at him. “I don’t understand…how can he be your son? I mean…I know you’re not…well, not human?”
He chuckled. “Ahh, but he is -not- my son. He is “Sandersons” son. And Sanderson is -my- son…at least as far as the Club is concerned. You understand that I am handing you some of the deepest secrets of the Club? And I know you’re all smart enough to wonder…what does he want, in exchange for these secrets? Well, I will tell you…”

(*giggles*  On to you, Dawn!  Have fun!  *hugs*)

12 responses

  1. Love it! Do we have the same brain? I love the way you wrote the cab scene, exactly where my mind was headed! This is so much fun! And ps, I’ll be in my bunk 😉 xox

    August 12, 2013 at 4:27 pm

    • KC

      *giggles, lots* Shiny! Glad you liked it! And yeah, it’s definitely beginning to write itself… It’s alchemy. After a while, all the pieces meld in together until we’re just the funnel to pour it onto the page. *grins*

      August 12, 2013 at 4:50 pm

      • “Shiny”! LOL! Joanne told me she knew you were a browncoat. No spoilers though please, i am only halfway through and havent seen Serenity yet…

        August 13, 2013 at 3:13 pm

        • KC

          Np, boss. I’m good at that. Glad you’re watching! *g* Can’t stop the signal!

          KC “Browncoat” Sloan 😉

          August 13, 2013 at 3:33 pm

  2. I love how you pack so much into a chapter – visual descriptions that jump from the page, er i mean screen, straight to the minds eye – the thoughts and motivations of the characters – advancing the plot and exploring the curious “sanderson” (or is it “sanders”).
    i loved the interaction between him and spencer, who seemed so mature and adult around Blue but is so young and inferior around him – nice complexity of character.
    And as always, i ama fascinated to see where this will go next…

    August 13, 2013 at 3:19 pm

    • KC

      Aww, thanks. And believe me, any “inferiority” on Spence’s part was strictly in the observers impression, not his. *eg* Young, yes…but -very- convinced of his own importance…and Blues.

      I’m glad to hear my images are so striking…it’s something I take some little pride in, in all my work. I make “word pictures”, because I can’t make actual pictures. 🙂

      *hugs*

      KC

      August 13, 2013 at 3:38 pm

      • i noticed his grumbling “comprende” as he left the room, quietly reassuring himself.
        and you are right to be proud of your words

        August 13, 2013 at 3:49 pm

        • KC

          Heh…every one of these words mean “understood” or “I understand”…he was more being snarky than reassuring, although in a way he was reaffirming his superiority by “talking back” to an authority figure, even if he did it on the way out the door. Yay, teenagers! 😉

          Also thank you. *hugs*

          KC

          August 13, 2013 at 5:34 pm

  3. Pingback: Fiction Relay — Part 39 | The Mouse's Soapbox

  4. Okay, you left me a whole basket of goodies, here. Thank you, KC!

    LOVE the snark going on w/ the teens — I can totally relate (hear it all the time in my house). They give the story a nice wildcard element. And I’m loving the head-games Sanderson is playing with everyone. Emotional Abuse 101. Excellent! (And much more effective at controlling people than physical torture. 😉 )

    BTW, way to bat it out of the park TWICE in the last go-round. You CHAMP, you! 😀

    August 19, 2013 at 5:54 pm

    • KC

      *snrx* Be careful, you might make my head bigger than it already is, and that’s against the laws of physics. ;p

      Besides, everybody’s been hitting some pretty good balls, if you ask me. *wg*

      Yup. Emotional abuse, confusion, obfuscation…never tell the whole truth when a bald-faced lie will do. *eg*

      And the “kids”…yeah, they’re a lot of fun. Most of my characters are in that age group, although not necessarily emotionally…but these two are, so despite how powerful they are or can be…they are still subject to the usual angst-and-arrogance that is the normal teen. Fun! 😉

      I’ll put my (many) thoughts about your story over on your page so I can re-read it while I write…it’s too awesome to fit in here. *hugs*

      Thanks again…I appreciate the appreciation. *giggles*

      KC

      August 19, 2013 at 8:13 pm

Talk to me, people! ;)

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