7 September 2012

Early the next morning--earlier, even, than they’d been leaving to go on the trapline, for Einar wanted to be sure they were clear of large areas of exposed snow before the sun had time to soften it too much, rot it, make travel difficult and cause them to leave behind unmistakable trails in the snow--the three of them, led by Muninn, went in search of the elk.  Far above them the raven soared at first, dipping, swooping, chortling and generally teasing them, knowing, Einar was quite sure, exactly what was expected of him but taking some perverse ravenly joy in delaying their progress.  Finally he’d had enough, called the bird and glared at him as he made a final rollicking pass before perching on an outstretched arm.

“What’s the idea here, critter?  You gonna show us that elk, or what?  Wanting to keep it all for yourself, maybe?  Couldn’t blame you too much for that, I guess.  But surely you must realize you’ll never get to all of it before the other critters come in and do their own devouring.  You’ll get more of it, in the end, if you go ahead and show us, let us protect whatever’s left.”

Liz wanted to laugh at him, reasoning with a raven as he was attempting to do, but apparently his logic must have had some effect on the creature, for presently he took wing, demeanor changed and an obvious purpose and direction in his flight.  Through the timber Einar and Liz followed, Einar in the lead as he communicated now and then with Muninn, calling to him with rasps and chortles much like the raven’s own, keeping track of the bird, following him.  Up through the timber they traveled, and by the time Einar realized that they were headed straight for the spring and dropoff, they had nearly arrived.  Liz had been aware of the trend somewhat sooner, wishing the bird would take them in some other direction--away from the dropoff and that dead tree Einar had for so many days been wishing to visit; she knew, though he’d thought he was keeping the desire from her--but the bird showed no sign of deviating from his course.  Until, that was, they had nearly reached the spot and the blackened, twisted form of the tree was in sight, at which the raven perched briefly on the topmost branch, launching himself with a rasping chorus and took off sharply to the right, down over the edge of the cliffs that dropped steep and in places nearly sheer to the basin below.  Trouble.  Einar stopped beneath a spruce, staring, shielding his eyes against the brightening sun and seeking the fallen elk, but seeing nothing.  Muninn saw, circled, and then Einar saw, too, disturbed spot in a half-melted wind-drift up against a bank of low-growing subalpine firs where it appeared a number of creatures, both winged and four-legged, had been focusing a good deal of activity over the past days, and it was here, he knew, where they would find their elk.  Or whatever was left of it.  Might be little more than hair and hide at this point, polished bones and antlers.

“Looks like the doggone bird forgot we couldn’t fly,” Einar observed somewhat unnecessarily, kicking a bit of snow down over the nearest portion of the cliff while making sure to keep himself far from the abyss.  Was different with Will on his back, daring feats which would have called and nearly compelled his action in the past appearing dangerous and unnecessary, and Liz saw it, and was glad.

“Yes, he took us right to the edge here, didn’t he?  I guess we’re going to have to find a better way down, if we want to go see what he’s found…”

Einar squinted at the cliffs, the trees, slid Will around to the front and eased him into Liz’s parka.  “This way looks alright.  Want to wait here while I scout out the best way down?”

She did not want to wait, saw how he was swaying and stumbling and knew that if he went over that edge, it might be the last time she ever saw him alive.  Which seemed quite an unnecessary risk over so small a matter as the possibility of the frozen and scavenged carcass of a winterkill elk, and she wanted to tell him so, but knew pointing out the risks would only be counterproductive.  Best take another angle, and she joined him at the brink, critically studying the exposed descent before stepping back, shaking her head.

“It’s too open, don’t you think?  Too much exposed snow.  Even with it all crusty and hard from the melting and refreezing, we’re sure to leave some marks, maybe some really noticeable ones, if larger chunks of snow are brittle and break off, and fall…it would leave a mess that’d show up pretty plainly from up above, I would think.”

He hesitated at that, weighing her words, motivations, seeing right through her attempt at persuasion but seeing at the same time that she was right.  Not something they ought to risk, not when there were other choices, and ignoring the raven’s outraged squallings, he led them into the timber to the side of the cliffs, zigzagging down through the steep but navigable terrain, seeking the basin.

Muninn was waiting for them when they emerged from the trees at the bottom of the slope, soaring lazily over his find as if awaiting permission to land and feast, wanting Einar to have a look at the thing first, and Einar, also, was anxious, not only to see what cold-preserved meat and hide might await their use, but the study through track-signs the comings and goings of the numerous predators and scavengers who had been traveling back and forth between carcass and timber, offering the possibility of yet another successful trapline location they might run for a few weeks before the advancing thaw rendered furs less and less useful.  Stepping cautiously around the wind-sculpted bank which had been concealing the spot from sight since their reaching the basin, spear in hand and slightly raised lest he surprise some hungry and irate clawed creature at its meal and pistol at his side by way of backup, Einar’s excitement drained away in a hurry at the sight that met his wide-startled eyes on the other side of that snow bank.

6 September 2012

Muninn, having figured after the disappointment of several empty snares that he wasn’t going to see any meat on the trapline that day--Einar always tossed him little scraps here and there, on more successful days--had parted ways with the trio shortly before they’d reached the turn-around point at the far end of the line, flapping off on his own for a while in search of anything that might provide him a tasty morsel or two.  He did not find much, all the rabbits who had survived the winter thus far proving fairly healthy specimens and not at all likely to succumb to the cold as some of their weaker cousins had months ago done, and for a time he soared and circled about the basin, disappointed, ready to head back for the cabin in the hopes that his people had reached it and could be persuaded upon to give him a bit of jerky or perhaps even some leftover stew.  He liked the stew best, with its rich, enticing globs of bear fat, tender-cooked meat chunks and often also the sweetness of stewed berries, or honey, or both…

While largely a scavenger of the carnivorous variety, Muninn, as most ravens, had a taste for variety, his perhaps more strongly developed due to his long familiarity with humans and their cooking.  His snacks of stew had, of late, been far less forthcoming.  Einar used to be a tremendously reliable source, frequently providing him as much as half a pot full of the stuff, secretly, quietly when he thought no one was looking…but no more.   Now, though taking what seemed in the bird’s experience an inordinate amount of time at the task, the man cleaned the pot, sharing only an occasional bite in addition to the slab of half-frozen meat which was his daily fare, and the raven was not pleased.  Perhaps today there would be more.  Only, he was not going to have to wait!

The elk had been a big bull, majestic creature, no doubt, in its day--not that the raven gave any thought to such matters--but that day was long past and now its mostly-frozen carcass lay stretched in the snow, partially covered by the shrinking bulk of the wind-drift which had covered it during the storm that had marked its last few hours of life, sapping from its emaciated limbs what little strength had remained after half a winter of attempting to browse and forage for food through snow that had been much too deep, pushing always through snow that came up past its shoulder and exhausting itself until finally there had been nothing left.  Why the creature had attempted to live out the winter in such a place was anyone’s guess, but it had not been successful, and now the raven would feast.  Only after he had carried the news back to his people, however, and swooping down he lighted on the lowest tine of the great bull’s craggy rack, twisting free a beak-full of hair from its icy carcass and taking wing.

Einar was nearly back to the cabin by the time Muninn reached him, circling once with a great chorus of raucous rasping before landing heavily on a shoulder, nearly bowling Einar over, filling Will’s mouth with feathers and leading to a great chorus of spluttering laughter from the youngster.

“What’s the big idea, bird?  Hey!  Shoo!  Little guy can’t breathe with you roosting on him like that, you big vulture.  Here.  Try my arm instead.  Yeah, that’s better.  What’ve you got there?  Elk, huh?  Just a hide again, or did you find the whole critter this time?  Hopefully it’s gonna be the whole thing, because I’d hate to think hunters had been that close.  You haven’t been gone for too long.  Thing must be from the basin, somewhere.”

Muninn dropped the plug of hair, tilting his head and chortling happily at the man’s seeming happiness at his find, hungrily accepting the twist of deer jerky he was presented by way of prize.  Wanted more, but the need was no longer urgent.  He knew where to get more meat, wanted to go to it but waited, expecting Einar would want to be led to the spot.  Which he dhd, but Liz could see him swaying with weariness when he did not fight hard to prevent it, figured he’d had plenty of walking for one day.

“If he’s found an elk, it’ll still be there tomorrow.  How about if we skip the trapline tomorrow, and go find it instead, in case there’s any salvageable meat?”

Einar frowned, not wanting to wait but knowing better than to argue.  He had, in fact, been surprised that she’d not only “allowed” him to run the trapline with her for the past two days, but had actually suggested the idea.  Best not push his luck.  The elk would, indeed, still be there the following day.  Nodding to Muninn he dismissed the bird with a swing of his arm, releasing him skyward in a great arc, on his way to a much-coveted feast.

Liz was glad to see Einar put up little resistance to her suggestion that they wait until the next day to search for the fallen elk.  She had been growing increasingly worried for him over the course of the day.  Though he was diligently keeping his word and following her direction as he’d said he would do, eating and drinking everything she set before him and even staying more or less warm, most times, Liz worried that her efforts were leaving him worse off, in some ways, than he’d been before.  Oh, it was certainly a relief to see him take a step or two back from the brink of the imminent and irreversible physical annihilation which had been stalking him so closely as his starvation advanced, body beginning to function a bit more the way it was designed to do and consciousness an easier thing for him to maintain as he ate more, but with these changes had come, it seemed, an increasing difficulty with sleeping at night.  Though he strove to keep still and prevent her knowing, she was well aware that he spent long stretches of the nighttime hours lying wide awake and rigid by her side, struggling to keep still and almost certainly wishing he might be able to get up and go wandering off in the snow as he had so frequently done, in the past.  And when he did get to sleep…well, after that last night, she had some idea of what the dreams must be like.

Seemed that the nearness of complete starvation, itself, had been the only thing allowing him the sleep he had previously been getting, and now that its grip was beginning to ease, he barely slept at all.  Which--in addition to being counterproductive to his growing stronger and healthier--she knew would in time probably lead to his giving up eating once again, for one reason or another, despite his best intentions to the contrary.  She did not have the answer.  Didn’t want to release him from their agreement, not until he’d got a bit further from the edge on which he’d been precariously balancing for far too long, but neither did she want to make things worse for him--or for her and Will.  Too many more nights like the last one, and she might have to take to camping in the timber with Will just to put some distance between the two of them and the action.  Though she did not want to push the matter too much with him, knowing he already felt badly about it and not wanting to drive him to anything drastic, she was more concerned than she might have liked to admit about the past night’s incident with Will.  Far gone as Einar had been in his dream world, she knew the only thing--on a physical level, at least-- preventing him from taking off into the snowy night with the child had been his own inability to open the bolted tunnel door in his sleep.  Not tremendously comforting.  Next time, he might get it right.  Made her want to sneak yarrow into his nightly pot of juniper tea, just to see if it led to his sleeping any more soundly.  Probably not a good idea.

Well. Perhaps the dreams would subside with time.  And more food.  Despite apparent evidence to the contrary, she was certain part of his problem must stem from the ongoing lack, and would be alleviated by its remedy.  She would have to hope so, hope he could endure the attendant difficulties in the meantime--and that she could do the same.  Sighing, kicking the crusty snow from a nearby tree stump, she hurried to catch up with Einar and Will, who had made the final descent and were ducking in through the tunnel.

5 September 2012

The snares and traps were empty that morning, every one of them, which only seemed to add to Einar’s sense of apprehension, the very silence and stillness which prevailed in the timber that morning confirming to him the veracity of his suspicions.  Liz, pausing now and then to check on his progress, could see that he was distracted, not entirely sure of the world around him, but she kept on, hoping the exercise might prove helpful and finally when it did not appear to be doing the job--if anything he was looking worse, glancing furtively at sky and ground alike and appearing ready to bolt at the slightest sound--standing aside, allowing him to pass, lead.  There on the sharp end of things with the responsibility of Will on his back and the timber closing in all around him, Einar did indeed have an easier time keeping connected to the immediate realities of the trapline, phantom tracks and half-heard rumblings fading so as to be nearly undetectable, and by the time they reached the high point of the trail and were ready to turn around--still critter-less, for everything had been empty--Einar was nearly himself, again.  Weary though, felt as though he’d spent the entire night dashing at top speed up through the snowy timber, and he needed all the strength and balance he could muster simply to keep himself on his feet and avoid spilling Will in the snow.  Before they once more reached the more level ground around the cabin, Liz caught up to him and pulled him down on the snow-free trunk of a fallen aspen for a rest.

“You were saying something earlier about our needing a plan, more caches, things like that…  Tell me about it.  What do you have in mind?”

It took him a minute to catch his breath sufficiently to be capable of speech, hands braced on knees and Will protesting softly at their stillness, urging him back to his feet.  Einar slid the little one around to his front, freeing him from the parka and handing him to Liz for a snack.  “We’ve talked about it before, put a few caches out there last fall but after last night…”

“Yeah, what about last night?  That must have been quite a dream, huh?”

Shook his head, not wanting to talk about it, shadow of the thing still hanging just over his shoulder.  “It was a reminder.  Just a reminder.  Don’t know how much we can really do before the snow goes down some more, since it’d be real counterproductive to leave a bunch of tracks all over everything, but soon as it’s reasonable we’ve got to get a lot more stuff stashed, routes planned and rehearsed so that if the day does ever come…we’ve got the best chance we can have.”

“That was your dream, wasn’t it?  They came, took us, or took me, and you had to escape with Will…”

A slight tightening at the corners of his mouth, but no other sign that he’d heard her question, and he was on his feet, waiting for her to slide Will back into his parka for the remainder of the walk home, but Will wasn’t done with his snack, and Einar ended up standing awkwardly as he waited, one arm braced against a tree in an effort to keep himself from toppling over.  She wished he’d go ahead and talk about it, the dream-shadow that seemed to hang so heavily over him, expected the thing might lose some of its power if brought out into the high mountain sunlight, but when he spoke, it was only of the future.

“Can do it on the hard spring snow, get out and scout, place caches, so long as we plan the trips carefully so we’ll be back off those routes again before things really start softening up in the late morning or early afternoon.  Under the heavier timber--if it’s had enough sun to melt and then refreeze the snow into that hard surface in the first place--we ought to be able to push it a little later in the day since the sun won’t be hitting it directly, but the air itself is getting pretty warm these days, once we get past morning…”

“It is changing faster now, isn’t it?  More daylight, getting a little warmer.  Maybe it’s almost time to start working on those windows you wanted to make us, this summer!”

“Windows.  Yeah.  Be good to be able to see out the front of the house.  I’ve got that deerskin I saved to use as rawhide, so maybe I’ll stretch it and start scraping to thin it down, start planning where we’ll put the window.  Only one place to put it, really.  Over by the water barrel.”

“That sounds good!  I’ll help.  It’ll let in so much more light, give Will more to look at while we’re inside, and we can make a shutter of some sort to close it up when we need it to be more secure, keep it too small for bears and such to climb in, in the first place…it’ll be great!”

Einar nodded--yeah, I’d like to be excited about it, but I’m just hoping we get to stay there long enough to finish the project and enjoy the results; not looking real likely, right  now--braced himself a bit more securely on the tree as Liz slid a very sleepy and satisfied Will back down into his spot on his father’s back, started down the slope.

4 September 2012

Though exhausted after the long struggle of his dream and so stiff with cold that he could scarcely move, Einar did not want to come to bed as Liz at first urged him to do, fearful lest he slip back into the shadowy world in which she had fallen to a dozen federal bullets and he fought  his way up through the snowy woods in a desperate and likely ill-fated attempt to save the life of their son.  She--not wanting him to go there, either, and in fact just beginning to realize how alarmed she ought to be at his actions, his taking of Will right out from under her nose as she slept and nearly making off with him into the snow--soon saw the wisdom of his desire to stay awake, stoked the fire and sat with him before the stove, silent, listening to the logs crackle and waiting for his trembling to subside.  Einar, for his part, could not help staring at her, the wonder of finding her alive and uninjured still more than he could quite fathom, and in his wordless gaze she read something fierce and perhaps a little frightening, a stony resoluteness behind the solemn joy in his eyes, and she hoped he might, in time, speak to her some of the things he was then thinking.  Perhaps sooner than later. For she would have liked some reassurance that the thing was unlikely to happen again, though she did not see how he could give it.  In which case, perhaps she would have to start keeping track of Will at night by linking his ankle and her wrist with a cord, securing the two together.  Would have liked to do the same for Einar, but knew it would likely prove disastrous in the event of another dream sequence similar to the one he must have just undergone.  He’d fight the cord, probably just pull her out of bed with him and everyone would end up worse off.

No, if he was to go wandering off into the snow--or wandering about the cold cabin, which was, after all, as far as he’d got this time, thought it had looked as though he’d tried his best to go further--then so be it, but he certainly couldn’t be taking Will with him.  Which could all be settled later, and she returned her attention to Einar, who did not seem to be having much success at all in his efforts to get warm, too far from the fire and beginning to look pretty purple.  No wonder.  He was, when she tried to help him nearer, quite damp with sweat, and despite his quiet protests that everything was just fine--so fine, in fact, that it had seldom been better, considering that they were all there together, front door intact, Liz alive and Will sleeping undisturbed in his bed--she insisted he get into some dry clothes.  Which, though a bit of a challenge to accomplish, did help a good deal.  Better able to concentrate once he was a bit more steady, Einar again took in the details of the room, Muninn sleeping on his perch, Will in the mountain goat skin, everything in its place, only this time he noticed the deep furrows on Liz’s forehead, shadow in her eyes, and he did not understand it; she was alive, and ought to have been as overjoyed at the realization as he was, but of course, lacking the perspective brought by the place in which he’d spent his last few hours, and something appeared to be bothering her.  Lack of sleep, probably.  Didn’t seem to be getting any lighter outside, and morning might still be hours away, for all he knew.

“Early.  I woke you.  Sorry…”

“You woke me?  It’s a good thing you did!  What would have happened if you’d got that door open?  Were you going to take off into the snow with Will?  How far would you have gone before you realized you’d misunderstood the situation, and came back?  Or would you have come back at all?  Maybe I would have followed you only to end up at the wrong end of an atlatl dart or a bullet, like I almost did just a few minutes ago over by the door.  What do you think?”

Thought he was still pretty confused, that was what, stared at her in dismay as he tried to come up with an answer and then lowered his eyes to the floor, for he had no memory at all of nearly causing her to end up at the wrong end of a dart and as for Will…well, there had been little choice in the matter, with the door down, air un-breathable in the cabin and the enemy soon to storm in…  But he could hardly begin to explain all of that to her.  Knew it would all crumble to nothing if he tried.  Should crumble, perhaps, for clearly it had not been real, and though tremendously glad each time he was reminded of this, the scene remained too fresh in mind and memory to be entirely dismissed.  He had to tell her, make her understand.

“Need to make a plan.  Rally point, more caches, do regular drills so we’ll have some chance if they show up.  Can happen so quickly and we…really, we’re not prepared for it, have ended up too comfortable and complacent here, place is real good and has served us well for an awfully long time, far longer than we might have expected and it’s great that we had a stable, settled place for little Snorri to come into the world but the minute you get too comfortable and complacent, they’re gonna…”

She took him by the shoulders, shook him gently and squeezed until he stopped speaking and looked up at her, panting for breath.  “Whoa, slow down…if you talk any faster, I’m not going to be able to keep up.  Now.  You can be sure that you don’t look the least bit comfortable or complacent to me right at the moment, and while a plan will be good, and we’ll talk about it later, what we really need is to eat breakfast!  It’s not so early.  Not long until daylight, and if we’re going to do that trapline again, both of us are going to need some energy, aren’t we?”

Oh, I’ve got energy, plenty of energy to do that trapline, lay the caches, rehearse our E&E a couple times and be back here before noon to reinforce that front door and set up a few early warning alarms in the woods around the clearing so they won’t take us by surprise next time…  But he said none of it aloud, knew that it wasn’t the answer she was looking for and besides, the energy would never last, would leave him flat on his face in the snow before the passage of much time at all, and despite the confusion which still gripped him regarding the events of the past night, he was very clear on the fact that he must eat, renew and build his strength so he would be ready should the long horror of the night ever find its way to reality in their little basin, in their lives.

“Yes.  Breakfast, then the trapline, and then we’ve got some planning to do.”

3 September 2012

No chapter for today.  I took off hiking this morning, saw the first of the fall colors, and got caught in one incredible storm!  Turned out to be a lot of hail in those clouds...

2 September 2012

Light in his eyes--a harsh, unnatural light, not the light of morning--and a cold terror gripping his throat--must’ve found him, somehow followed his trail in the storm, and now they had him--Einar woke plastered against the tunnel door,  knife in hand, rifle beside him and Will sleeping cozily, wrapped in the mountain goat pelt in the protected little circle formed by his father’s body.  Einar was shaking and so stiff with cold that he could scarce hold the knife, but he had to hold it, had to get Will on his back and make a run for it before they had him for good and took his son away into captivity…

Lighting another candle, Liz saw the confusion in his eyes, did not at all likes the looks of him crouched over Will with the knife, appearing equally ready to fall upon her--or the little one--with the weapon or scramble out the door, probably taking Will with him into the night, and she moved slowly, crouching down beside the bed and setting the candle on the floor before her so that he could see her face.  Didn’t see it though, did not seem to be seeing much of anything that was actually in the room, and indeed he was not, additional light glaring in his eyes and only confirming what he had already known; they’d found him, would soon have him--both of them--if he didn’t act.  And then he heard her voice.  Soft but insistent through the blood rushing in his head and the roar of rotors above the timber--so that was how they’d done it; storm must have stopped and they’d spotted him from the air, seen his heat signature through the trees, and surrounded him--she spoke to him, and he wondered if that was some trick of theirs, too, a ruse designed either to draw him out or simply to unnerve him, make mockery of his loss and drive him mad enough to make the rash decision which would end his life--and spare theirs.  Must be a trick, for it was far too real to be coming solely from his own mind, imagination, and he despised them for it, but kept still, for clearly they wanted him to move, and he must not, not if he wanted to live, and to save the child…not that there was much chance, at this point.  Not unless they hadn’t seen him yet, and he could still slip away…  But he could not, for they were coming for him, then.

He saw the man advancing, alone, moving slowly in the beam of the light they’d got trained on him, and he grabbed for the rifle but his enemy agilely kicked it aside, darted away when Einar went for him with the knife and then he had Will, holding him as a shield so that he could not strike.  He sagged back to the ground, mind racing and eyes still badly dazzled by the brightness of that light, knowing that he must act quickly and decisively to stop the man taking Will--I’m sorry little one, so sorry--or he’d be gone, and there would be no second chance.  Gathering himself, measuring with his eyes the distance, he sprung…

The thing hit him squarely in the side of the head, splintering, sparkling fragments of pain and a moment of struggle, and then everything went black…  Einar fought it, the formless darkness which came over him, knew, somewhere in the still-active recesses of his mind, that he must wake, act, yet for all his effort several minutes passed before he was able to do so, and when once again he got his eyes open it was to find himself wrapped securely in something warm, smothering, arms pinned tightly at his sides and Liz standing over him.  Which could not be.  He blinked, shut his eyes and tried again but she was still there, and he knew she must be an illusion, hallucination, glanced about desperately for Will only to see him secure in her arms, still asleep.  None of it was real, and he struggled fiercely against whatever bonds held him so nearly immobile, not knowing whether they, too, might be simply a product of his malfunctioning brain or if perhaps the enemy had managed to restrain him, but either way they had to go, and he was well on his way to accomplishing this when Liz--the image of her, perfect in every way except for the fact that it could not be real, for she was gone--tucked Will safely away in his bed and threw her entire weight across the hide in which he was bundled, securing him more effectively than ever.  Couldn’t breathe.  Tried to roll, throw his assailant off to the side but he lacked the strength and the man pressed him into the earth, crushing his ribs and crushing the air from his lungs until things began going dark again despite the light, and then from somewhere down there in the rapidly encroaching darkness he got a whiff of willow, just the faintest hint but it was enough, and suddenly it was her there before him, his own dear Lizzie alive and present and far too real for any hallucination, and he stopped struggling, lay still as she loosed the wraps of cordage which bound the hide, helped him to sit up.

Still shaking, as much from exhaustion and the unbelievable reversal of the situation now as from cold, he reached out a hand and touched her arm, and she was really there, and it was so far beyond his comprehension that for a moment all he could do was to stare, shaking his head, wanting to be glad but still too tightly held in the grip of the horror that had been.

“They took you.”

“I am here.”

“Yes.”

And she was holding him, gently freeing the knife from his clenched fist, setting it aside and doing her best to rub some warmth back into his chilled frame as his eyes wandered in disbelief from Will to Muninn to the intact front door and then back again to her face, and in the tears that came then was an odd mixture of relief, exultation, shame and a rejoicing so earnest and intense that he could scarce keep it inside, might have broken out in song had not Liz been speaking to him, he struggling to make out her words, and she sounded a good deal less joyful than he felt.

“What were you doing?  What was going on just now?  Where were you taking Will…?”

“Will…  They came in the night and there was gas and smoke and I couldn’t find you, but I found him and we…”  Stopped in silence, gazed for a long moment at the child where he slept safe and warm in his bed, still bewildered at the paradox of it all and looking as though he was not yet fully certain which world he was living in, dream and reality blending and swirling in an indecipherable and still-terrifying amalgamation, and Liz saw it, shook her head and offered him a sip of water.

1 September 2012

Philip said...

Now, Chris.... we promise to behave, not pout or anything, take the weekend off, come back and Wake Liz up, so she can tell Einar that he had just kicked her, in the midst of the most Violent Night Mare that she had ~ever~ seen him have.... 

and that, while he was still scrawny, his kick hurt enough that she was considering a Rabbit Stick BOP on the head, so She could rest, while Einar was "out".... please????
Good Writing as always Brother....

philip

Well, I'm not taking the entire weekend off this time, but did take the day.  :)  Or more accurately, last night. And if anyone has a problem with that, you can talk with Philip, because he told me I could take the time off.  :D

As for whether or not this on is a really, really unfortunate dream, or an even more unfortunate reality...that will have to wait for tomorrow.

Thank you all for reading!