Canticle Of Sephira
Eleven-year-old Meghan Sikes heaved the last pail of water over the lip of the well and carefully topped of the night's water supply. Looking self-satisfied from the exertion she paused for a moment to catch her breath, then let the pail drop back into the inky depths, straining to hear the distant KERPLOOSH! as the pail readied itself for future use.
She smiled softly as the echoes spoke to her, tales of selfless giving, great deeds, and histories that might have been. She nodded into the abyss and breathed a soft 'thank you'. Wiping her face on her hand-me-down to-large t-shirt, she turned to face the cheap clapboard house her father had built, so long unpainted you couldn't tell it's original color. The county had been after him for years to either bring it up to code, or build a new one that properly met the requirements.
It wasn't for lack of money, surely... Though they lacked luxuries everybody else seemed to take for granted, and bills seemed a constant problem, they always managed to afford what they needed. Momma often joked how they were living a nineteenth century lifestyle in the twenty-first century...
A woman's voice called her name from nearby, and Meghan answered with a
lilting hoot indicating 'I hear, all's well, and I'm coming'..
Moving the two 5-gallon water buckets from the floorboard to the ground, she
took the bales, shrugged deceptively thin shoulders, and trundled home
under a load that might tax a full-grown man.
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Holt Sievers and Lemmy killmaster observed from the cover of ghille suits atop an
overlooking bluff. Fixing the child within the viewport of an electronic binoculars, Lemmy growled softly, "This better be the correct target. Our employers are losing faith."
Holt grunted noncommittally. Looking away from his own, identical, binoculars, he
tapped keys on a large expensive-looking PDA. "Better than a 90%
chance."
Lemmy glared daggers at Colt, who ignored him and watched as two adults relieved the child of her burden.
"I don't like those odds. Not now, after three failures. " Lemmy glanced
around their perch uneasily, muttering about how he hated this realm.
Holt chuckled. "Don't worry. I doubt any snakes would have the stones to mess with you.. 94.549%. To be exact. 30% increase in certainty over the last one."
Lemmy drew a large revolver and snap-aimed at Holt's skull. "Only one snake. You're too cavalier about this, boy."
Holt glanced over, mad homocidal gleam in his eyes. "So either
kill me or pocket that thing. They're all inside. Time to go hunting."
*****************************************************************************
Roy put his and Mazie's buckets on the counter next to an ancient 1-tub enameled steel sink and covered them with cheescloth lids as they caught each other up on the day's business. Meghan ladled herself a glass of water and settled onto a rickitty chair at the table, listening intently.
"Looks like a good harvest this year. So far. Crop prices are looking a little slack at the moment, but the biodiesel works might be starting to pay off."
"Great," Mazie said. "Maybe over the winter we could finally afford that computer and internet connection to supplement Meghan's education."
Roy scowled at their old point of contention. "Look, Mazie, we've been through this a
million times. When we..." He paused glancing at Meghan.
Megham shrugged. "Like I haven't already figured out you're really bootleggers." She smiled. "But I still love you."
Roy and Mazie exchanged meaningful glances, and Mazie ventured, "Look at her, Roy. She notices everything. Remembers everything. Hell, she's doing eighth grade work already. Isn't she worth the risk?"
Roy sighed, turning toward Meghan. For a moment, Meghan thought she saw a
glimmer of fatherly feeling in his eye. "Meghan... um... Why don't you go outside and wash up for supper."
Meghan started to say something, then nodded and readied a pot of water. Roy draped a towel across her shoulder and offered her a bar of soap, giving her a peck on the forehead and ushering her out the back door.
As Meghan set up to wash, she heard through the thin walls:
Mazie's voice -- She needs regular schoolin. Which is impossible.
Roy's voice -- Or she needs the internet. Likewise, impossible.
Meghan scowled at the complexity of adult thought as she soaped up and considered how complex her own life was getting.
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The boy searched Meghan's face intently, as though looking for a sign of weakness. Meghan met his gaze mildly, giving away nothing. "Well?" the boy prompted, tossing a wild blackberry into his mouth and chewing. "I'll betcha they don't."
Meghan sighed irritatedly. A few weeks past her 11th birthday, the older boy seemed to have an advantage, but Meghan refused to accept that as she
met the boy's gaze.
"Listen. Did we come here to talk about my family that way? Or to eat blackberries?" She glanced hungrily at a nearby berry vine, mindful not to take her attention fully from the
confrontation.
The boy shoved her hard, and Meghan caught herself from toppling, taking a step back to maintain balance.
"I say your dad's a deadbeat and left home for another woman. Why else would you never come to school?"
Meghan scowled, felt her fist clench of it's own accord. Then as she tensed to
swing, her body betrayed her. Nerves seemed to fire spastically,, her senses clouding fading to a phantasmagoric pinprick of perception, bile gurgled within her like Niagara Falls in reverse. Panting, desperate for something she couldn't name, she sank weakly to her knees as spasms
wracked her body.
Meghan gasped raggedly, thoughts snapping back to the present, and she realized she was trembling. The waking dreams seemed to be coming more often, but she still dared not mention them to her parents. Taking a deep breath to try to calm herself, Meghan soaped her hands thoroughly and began to scrub, lost in worried thought.
Gradually she became aware of being outside her body, the air seeming sharply electric. There was a pressure in the back of her mind that...
She couldn't quite place the significance. She glanced skyward. Kind of like that wild loneliness she would feel during a thunderstorm. But...
...different, somehow. She wondered distantly if this was another waking dream, but quickly realized it was something new. She tested the boundaries of the experience, then gasped, touching something offensive.
Turning her flesh and blood eyesight toward the encounter, she focused on the unpleasantness. Gradually her tracking eyes settled on a furry shadow between two sheds. Her vision seemed to telescope, and the shadow resolved into a man under some sort of odd rug thing.
The eyes... the eyes reminded her of...
She gasped, bringing a hand up to stifle an inexplicable cry. Tasting soap, she spat and started to rinse, cutting short when the stranger abandoned concealment and charged across the yard.
Shouting a warning, Meghan flung the door open and darted inside, bracing to close and lock the door behind her. Lemmy pounded up the steps and bulled through, flinging Meghan against the adjacent wall. She crumpled in a dazed heap. The adults, already armed and alert, aimed at the intruder.
Roy ordered, "Freeze! You're outgunned! You don't..."
Lemmy snapped a .45 round, aim deadly acurate, at Roy's chest, taking out a
lung and effectively ending any challenge. Roy crashed backward,
overturning the couch, and lay still.
Lemmy taunted the dieing man as he raced toward a window in the far wall. "Stop talking and just shoot me, fool." Mazie opened fire with twin 9's, tracking up behind Lemmy. "And you need to lead your..." Lemmy dove headfirst through the window, the rest of his words lost in a crash of shattering glass and splintered wood.
Mazie took stock of her losses, blinking back tears. Time enough for mourning later. If she survived. Bearing her 9's with shaking hands, she stalked slowly toward the window. The slight whisper of cloth on cloth prompted her to change aim. 9 up, 9 down. Chin
or foot, either way she regains advantage.
Cold steel pressed hard to the back of her head arested the attempt, and Holt's soft rasp grated in her ear. "Uh Uh. You're not fast enough to finish that move. Frankly, " he pressed his tongue against that certain spot behind her ear, sending shivers of revulsion through her body, "I prefer you alive." Licking his lips meditatively, he added, "Yum. Tastey."
"I'll see you in Shamballa, first, scum." Mazie spat, and snapped pistols into position...
... already being shoved aside fiercely as Holt fires a bullet into Mazie's skull...
... and simultaneous explosions of gunfire rattled the small house...
... and Holt screamed. "That bitch! Shot me in the foot!"
Holt hop-danced, sitting hard, and busied himself tending to his foot, removing the shoe. Suddenly something warned him of danger and he snap-aimed his firearm toward where Roy had fallen. Gunfire roared through the house once more and Holt blinked, then glanced to the door
as Lemmy holstered his weapon and glared indictment at Holt. Holt scoffed dismissively. "Yeah yeah, " he considered Roy's nearly headless corpse soberly, "Yeah. You told me these bastards were tough."
Lemmy let the experience speak for itself and, pulling an iPod-sized device from a beltpouch, turned toward Meghan. Meghan, seeming recovered from her earlier injury, knelt in the corner, posture disinterested, eyes oddly feral. Lemmy squatted a distance away, mindful of Meghan's speed, and held up the device. She tensed expectantly, and Lemmy gave a predatory smile. "You know what this is don't you, Sephira?"
Meghan locked eyes with Lemmy for a moment, then dropped her gaze, shaking her head. Lemmy chuckled. "Sephira... You're just not that good at lieing. Yet." He looked toward Holt, keeping half an eye on the girl. "94%, you said..." Holt sneered, concentrating on removing his shoe. "point 549." he corrected.
Meghan screamed, "NO!" and launched herself at Lemmy. Lemmy activated the device, musing, "Right. 94.549." He sideslipped Meghan's leap, slapping the device onto her body. It adhered to her magnetic field and began setting up a neural feedback loop to her limbic region. Meghan gasped, curled fetally and landed in a quivering heap. Spittle oozed from her mouth and she made wretching sounds.
Tough, yes, but predictable." Lemmy leaned over to retrieve the device, whispering softly, "Welcome back home, freak."
synop: a dark action drama about a cosmos-spanning war, focusing on the last known member of the royal house of an evil society. Themes include search for one's own path in life, faced with god-like interlopers. Influences include manga Battle Angel Alita, Rose Hip, Anne Freaks, Gunslinger Girl, Elfen Lied, Greek myth of Perseus and novel Ender's Game/Ender's Shadow/Shadow and Hegemon trilogy.
If any artist would be interested in helping me get this finished and ready for publishing, leave a note here or on mangaelements.aforumfree.com.
Thanks.
