by Tom Howard
Michelle nodded as she looked up into Wyatt’s eyes. “Yeah. Why?”
“Because I saw one when I looked through the camera earlier.” Wyatt didn’t want to worry her, but figured she had a right to know. “It was right after Damon made a comment. I can’t explain it, but I think he’s behind those too.”
“Why?”
“Just a hunch. And I’m guessing once we get to the safe house these things may ease up for a while.” At that, Michelle’s eyes lit up with the thought of safety within reach. Wyatt was feeling fatigue set in. He hadn’t gotten much sleep between the fight earlier and being woken by Michelle, so his eyes were getting heavy. “I’ll tell you what, let me get an hour shut eye and we’ll go. Okay?”
Michelle nodded and rested her head back on Wyatt’s shoulder. It wasn’t long at all before they were both out.
As they lay sleeping, Michelle drifted off to a time long ago. One of ancient battles, and beasts not of this world. She found herself standing amid a field of snow as far as the eye could see. The sun was shining brightly, and the snow was still falling heavily. Surrounding her was a massive army dressed in shining silver armor, carrying swords and shields. As she looked down, Michelle found she was dressed similar, and for some reason, the broadsword felt at home in her hand. The hilt was made of pure gold wrapped with a silver braid from top to bottom, its edge, though it had seen many battles, was still razor sharp. Her shield had remained undamaged even though it had blocked many assaults, and bore as its symbol, a cross with a sash from one side to the other, along with a crown of thorns resting atop the cross, and an open tomb with light shining from above. Her armor though there was no helmet, was glorious as it glistened in the sun. She wore a pure white gown under the chest piece of gold. Her arms and legs were also covered in form fitting golden armor.
She suddenly heard screaming, and as she looked up, saw the field was covered in bloody bodies. However, the bodies did not look like those who were fighting, instead, they looked as though they were peasant farmers who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. As she ran over to check a man lying close by, kneeling down, looking for any sign of life, he suddenly grabbed her hand. Startling Michelle, he gasped for air. “Fight…the……beast.” Those words rang as just more than a silent whisper and were his last. As she looked in his eyes, she saw the reflection of something massive just over the cliff behind her. The movement was followed by a screeching roar, unlike anything Michelle had ever heard before. She found no fear within her, only an urgency to attack.
Grasping her sword and shield, she ran toward the edge of the cliff, only to find an unbelievable sight below. She almost couldn’t believe her eyes as she watched her fellow knights fighting a massive dragon. It was solid white, almost as if it wanted to blend in with its surroundings for a bigger advantage. Its wingspan had to be at least a hundred yards wide, the body, from head to tail, was covered in scales and spikes which became bigger the further down the tail they went. And when it opened its mouth, revealed within where several dozen razor sharp teeth.
Michelle saw no time to waste. The knights continued to fight as the dragon swung its mighty tail and gnashed its teeth, but they had it backing up to the wall over which Michelle stood. Flipping her sword around and throwing her shield on her back, she jumped, and dug her sword into the dragon’s side as far as it would go. The beast let out a loud roar of excruciating pain as she sliced open the side of the dragon while sliding to the ground. All of the knights cheered in excitement as the blow brought the behemoth to its knees. As Michelle landed, she became off balance and hit her side. The dragon saw the opportunity and took advantage to strike. Michelle found she wasn’t able to roll out of the way, as the beast opened its mouth, and went in for the kill.
Michelle was suddenly awoken by a hand over her mouth. Glancing up, she saw Wyatt in front of her with a finger over his own mouth. “There’s someone in here.” He whispered as he let go. “I can hear them downstairs. I need you to hide under the bed and don’t move. I think Damon sent more thugs, I won’t be long.” Not wanting to be alone, Michelle reluctantly agreed with a nod.
Wyatt escorted her into his bedroom, which had frightened her earlier, and watched as she slid underneath. Once she was under, Wyatt made his way over to the window, but not without a squeak from a few of the floorboards along the way. I really need to fix those, he thought as he was sure someone heard the noise. Opening the window, Wyatt looked down the street and saw a similar van to the one parked there earlier. These guys seriously need to get more creative, he thought as he shook his head, walking back to the door. However, as he was almost there, he heard footsteps coming closer to the room, so he hid behind the door. Peeking through the crack, he watched as a man, dressed all in black with a black ski-mask, entered. He was holding a 9mm with a silencer, and he could clearly see the serial numbers had been filed away. This guy was definitely out for blood. Wyatt knew the type, shoot first, and ask questions later. The guy made his way into the room, walking a little further than the door, toward the open window, completely unaware Wyatt was only a foot behind him. Quick as lightning, Wyatt reached up and put the man in a sleeper hold. As he was lowered, the man put up a struggle, but inevitably found he was no match for Wyatt.
“Stay here.” He whispered to Michelle as he walked back to the door and peeked around to find another guy, in the kitchen, in the same get up as the one he just took out. However, this one is packing some serious hardware. A P90 machine gun? Seriously? Where does he find these guys? Wyatt thought as he watched the guy circle the kitchen, peer into the living room, then turn and head down the hallway. That was his chance, Wyatt ran with steps like a ninja, quiet and precise, across the living room, and ducked behind the kitchen counter. Realizing he was unarmed, he quickly popped up, grabbed a large kitchen knife, and ducked back down. He moved to the front end of the counter but didn’t have to wait long before footsteps were heard coming toward him.
As soon as the guy was close enough for Wyatt to see his feet, he plunged the knife deep into the guy’s foot causing him to scream in agony. It disoriented him enough to where he wasn’t able to concentrate enough to use the gun. With cheetah like speed, Wyatt shot up from the floor, grabbed and uppercut the man with his own gun, then swung around and knocked him out with only a single hit from his elbow.
Wyatt knew it wouldn’t be long before someone heard the scream, so there was little time to lose in getting out of there. He was about to go back for Michelle when he suddenly heard footsteps running up from the basement. Wyatt grabbed the kitchen knife pinning the other guy to the floor, and as soon as the basement door opened, Wyatt slammed it back in the third guy’s face, causing him to fall back down the stairs. Grabbing the knife by the blade, Wyatt threw it, nailing the guy in the upper thigh, then jumped down the stairs, and with a flying fist, knocked the guy out cold. “Be thankful it wasn’t a few inches to the left otherwise waking up would be a real drag.” Wyatt said as he grabbed his knife and went back up to get Michelle. However, as he reached the top of the stairs, he overheard someone whispering over the radio one of the men was carrying, “Have you three got her yet? Seriously, how hard could it be, you’ve all got guns.”
“Yeah, but they all forgot where the trigger was.” Wyatt said as he knelt down and held up the radio. “Sorry boys, you’re going to have to try a little harder than that next time.”
“Oh, don’t worry, we’ve got something for you!” The voice on the other end was clearly agitated.
Suddenly Wyatt began to hear car doors closing and more men yelling from the direction in which the van was parked. He took off for the bedroom.
“Come on, time to go!” He urged as he pulled Michelle from under the bed. They bolted across the house, down to the basement, and into the garage. Wyatt was no slouch when it came to getting out in a hurry as he had done it many times in both his previous and current jobs, ironically, on both ends of the law. Throwing his Challenger into drive, he didn’t ev
en wait for the garage door to open, he just took off, Dukes of Hazzard style. As they rocketed out, they passed at least four guys with guns who all decided to open fire. Thankfully, Wyatt had learned from last time and installed bulletproof windows. “Dang, I just paid that door off!” Wyatt said irritated, as he got them out of there.
He hoped they could just speed into the night, however, Damon’s boys had other ideas. A black car was waiting for them just down the road and quickly caught up to them as they passed, shooting as they trailed.
“How are you going to get us out of this?”
“Just hang on!” Wyatt yelled as he tried swerving the car to avoid the bullets. “Ugh! Stop shooting up my car!” He knew his Challenger could outrun most other vehicles, but for some reason, this car was keeping up. It looked to be a Crown Victorian, which was something Damon liked to use a lot. He thought it was fitting to use a cop car for crime. He would steal them right off of the lot, strip them down, and rebuild them…mostly for smuggling and to carry a body, but no matter what, they had to be fast.
The Crown Vic sped up, but Wyatt wasn’t letting it pass. He was putting his driving skills to the test, keeping a close eye on Damon’s guys, whenever they would swerve to try passing, Wyatt would cut them off. A distance began to grow between the cars, and as Damon’s guys swerved one more time, the passenger leaned out of the window and shot off Wyatt’s driver’s side mirror, leaving it dangling by a single wire.
“Seriously?!” Wyatt yelled in anger.
Suddenly, the Crown Victorian pulled up next to Wyatt and began to ram him. As he went to pull away, the Challenger was hit on the passenger side, and when they looked, he and Michelle saw it was the FBI agent. They were pinned between the two vehicles, and to make matters worse, they were all in the wrong lane with a big rig headed right for them. Wyatt tried to swerve side to side in attempt to free himself, but found he wasn’t able to go anywhere.
“What do we do now?” Michelle had no clue how they were going to get out of this.
Wyatt looked over toward his friend only to find the agent was aiming a gun at him, and she was in the way. “Get back!” He yelled as he pushed her out of the way and hit the brakes. The agent fired, however the bullet went through both windows and hit the driver of the other car causing him to fly off of the road, into a ditch. Wyatt slowed down just enough to end up at the rear of the FBI driver’s side, then floored it as he turned into the car, flying by as the agent’s car slid in front of the oncoming tractor-trailer. Wyatt didn’t bother going back to see if everyone was alright, he just called it in and drove off into the night.
It took them about another half hour to reach their destination, a secluded house in the middle of the woods, only accessible by a dirt path. The house was deep enough in the trees that when people flew by on the road close by, they had no idea there was anything back there.
The sun had finally come out enough to let Michelle see where they were going, and she couldn’t believe the beauty and simplicity of it all. The house was a two-story log cabin made out of the trees which surrounded it. Wyatt wasn’t kidding when he said it was off the grid, there were no wires of any kind running to or from the house, and the entire place was solar powered with a generator back up. The house had a wraparound porch with a couple rocking chairs and a hand-built deck table out front. The yard wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to play a game of corn-hole and have a small fire pit for two or three to fit around. There was no blacktop, only a gravel path for a driveway, leading up to an attached two car garage.
“This place is stunning.” Michelle said as she looked around at everything while stepping out of the car.
“Thanks, it belonged to my grandfather. He built her back in the early 1960’s for my grandmother. She had a love for the simple life, or so I was told. It has taken me the past five years to update the place, but I wanted to keep it low key and I really like the fact it’s a place I can come and just…be alone.” Wyatt replied as he walked around the car, looking at the damage left during the fight. It was a little worse than he’d hoped, along with the side mirror needing reattached, it was going to need dents and bullet holes fixed, as well as the paint touched up. “Seriously, who does this to a classic? I swear, when I get my hands on Damon, I’m going to break his neck!”
“I’m sorry, none of this would have happened if you weren’t helping me.”
Wyatt shook his head as he let out a low sigh. “Oh, don’t worry, my past would have caught up to me eventually.” Wyatt opened the garage door for them to go into the house. “Besides, it’s not the car I’m worried about, it can be fixed…that was a close call tonight, those guys are watching you like a hawk, I just wish you could remember why.”
“Me too.” Michelle muttered just above a whisper.
Wyatt looked back to see his friend staring out into the woods, waiting for answers which may never come…or come too late. He genuinely felt sorry for her because he knew all too well what it was like to hold onto something so tightly only to have it slip through his fingers. But in a way he envied her, not being able to remember, sometimes he believed the past wouldn’t hurt as much if he could only forget what had happened.
“Come on,” he said as he put his hand on her shoulder, “I’ll show you around.”
Michelle patted his hand and nodded, then they walked inside. She was in awe of the décor, thinking it was absolutely beautiful. There was no drywall, only the other half to the logs which could be seen outside. The furniture was even made from wood and finished with a shine. In the living room was a stone fireplace which would heat the house for days just by burning a few logs. Wyatt used to keep a close eye on it, knowing if the flames ever grew bigger than what it could handle, the house would be in serious trouble. Various pictures hug around the rooms of landscapes and family, along with a few high-end paintings Wyatt’s grandfather collected. The entire place was just like a log cabin’s big brother, something straight out of a Better Homes and Garden’s catalog. Wyatt took Michelle up to the second floor, which was just like the first, and showed her the room where she would be staying. It wasn’t huge, but big enough to fit a king-sized bed and all of the furniture that goes with it, plus an oversized chair in the corner by the closet. Not only was the interior stunning, but it had a killer view of the mountains just beyond the trees.
“You wouldn’t believe how long it took me to funnel those branches to get that view.” Wyatt said as he walked over to the closet. “Almost fell out of the trees a dozen times, dumb rope didn’t want to hold.”
Michelle couldn’t get over the absolute beauty of the view and the peaceful feeling which came with it. With the sun rising just beyond the mountains, the reddish-orange light shining through the clouds just over the trees was breathtaking. She couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to be a bird, free and flying into the dawn’s illumination, to soar among the clouds with the wind as her only guide. Up there, a memory wasn’t needed, only survival instincts and a good tailwind.
She was suddenly broken from her morning romance and back into her harsh, blank reality by Wyatt cupping his hand over her shoulder. “Did you say something?” She asked.
“I was just telling you I have some women’s clothes that’ll fit you.” Wyatt directed her to the walk-in closet behind them. “Usually the last thing a person being rushed by witness protection thinks to grab is a bag of clothes, so I keep some in stock.” As Michelle walked into the closet, it was as though she had just walked into a department store equipped with anything and everything a woman would need.
“Aren’t clothes the first thing a person would think to grab?”
“Not when coming with me.” Wyatt replied as he leaned on the door frame. “Look at how you got here.” Michelle glanced back to meet his eyes, catching the smirk on his face. “Happens more often than you’d think.” He watched as she caressed the light blue silk pj’s and glanced up to see the redness of her tired eyes. The poor thing hadn’t slept much since they�
�d met and when she did, nightmares filled the silence. “Tell you what, why don’t you change and get some sleep. No one knows you’re here, so no one’s going to come looking. I’ll keep watch, and when you wake up, we’ll figure out what to do next.”
Michelle had to admit, the thought of her illusive friend sounded great, if she could catch it. The only problem was she feared what may be unlocked with the closing of her eyes. As she stood there staring at the clothes with the thought of sleep looming over her like a siren, beckoning her to its call, the images of her last dream flashed through her mind like a bad movie reel. She was awoken too suddenly to let anything sink in, but the more she thought about it, the more that dream felt like a memory. But how? Why? Could she somehow be displaced out of time, and by coming there lost her recollection of her old life? Ironically, only time would tell. However, for the time being, she took Wyatt up on his offer.
As she changed, Wyatt turned away, but couldn’t help overhearing her slide out of her clothes and them hit the ground. Everything in him told him to keep his gaze fixated outside between the trees, but as he stood in the doorway of the closet, he couldn’t resist, his head turned to glance over his shoulder to find Michelle standing there exposing her silky smooth bare back, with flowing blonde hair cascading down to the middle. He knew she was beautiful, but the way her skin glistened in the sun left him floored. He wasn’t one to take advantage, but an innocent peek wasn’t going to hurt.
As he was closing the curtains, letting only a small bit of light enter, Wyatt felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Michelle dressed in the blue silk pajamas and for a second nearly forgot how to breathe. She could make anything look good. There was an angelic beauty about her, one which should only be reserved for the heavenliest of beings.
