Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves

by Richard M. Heredia

  “Their parents didn’t explain things to them, that’s all.” Elena’s reply was quick with a nonchalant bunch of her shoulders.

  “Well… it’s still a pain,” quipped Mikalah. Then, her eyes had darted toward Marissa, realizing their conversation was being overheard.

  Elena’s own eyes had followed a split second later.

  Marissa would have looked away embarrassed, if Elena had not spoken.

  “Hi! My name is Elena. What’s yours?”

  Marissa, thinking they were going to say something mean or rude, stared back for a few heartbeats in a semi-state of shock. “Um… ah, my name is Marissa,” she said through a strangled throat, not recovered in full.

  “Marissa, that’s a pretty name,” said Mikalah with a big smile lighting up her eyes, making them sparkle. “I’m Mikalah, Elena’s sister.”

  And that had been the lynch-pin releasing all the tension. They had immediately struck up a conversation. They talked, excited about this and the other thing - family, brothers, sisters and parents. They had even conversed over their worlds up to that point in their young lives. They continued gabbing until they had reached the threshold of their classroom where Mrs. Sato had stopped. There, she had spun upon one of her practical heels. She began to outline the various rules of behavior and conduct that were to be enforced throughout the school year. They had grinned at one another throughout the entire lecture.

  From then on, the three of them had been inseparable. They made many friends. All three were equal in popularity, rising in time through the social ranks of the student body at Yorkdale Elementary. The core of their group had always been the three of them. Whether they were in different classrooms or not, they remained close. Wherever they could, they crossed each other’s paths and made sure each of them was included in whatever was happening. When they got older, they learned more about the world around them. The first phone calls they’d ever placed were among themselves. For the most part, they did so to verify some detail of their homework. Over time though, those calls became more personal and less motivated by academics. They shared more about themselves than they did with anyone else, maybe even more than they did with their parents. As the years passed, Marissa began to feel like her two true friends were more like sisters to her than a pair of kids she went to school with.

  And now… everything was wrong.

  Something had come in the night, smashed up their grandmother’s backyard and had taken them against their will. Something bad had them and had taken them to a secret place. Something -.

  “Mari! Mari! Mari! Look how fast I can run!” quailed her young brother as he jumped up and down before the TV, blocking the view on purpose.

  Behind him, Marissa just hear, “…still the police have no clue of the motive behind the disappearance of the children. These are kids who range in age from seventeen on down to the wee age of little Mikalah Herrera who is due to turn eight in the middle of November…”

  She glanced up at Sebastian, who was still hopping upon the tips of his toes. “Get out of the way! I’m trying to watch TV,” she commanded. Her voice sounded strained, with a higher pitch than normal.

  The moment Sebastian realized she had taken notice of him; he stopped jumping at once and streaked to left. It was a wild attempt to show her how fast he could run in the new sneakers their mother had purchased for him the night before. He did not get far though. Instead, he ran into the front end of the love seat, standing to the left of where Marissa was sitting. He caught it with his torso at just the right angle. He bounced off the cushioned seat and into the end table beside it. The lamp atop the table teetered. About to topple over, Marissa had to leap up from the couch to steady it before it did just that and broke all over the front room.

  “Sebastian, calm down, you jerk-o! You almost broke the lamp!” she admonished the boy, who was clutching at his side where he had hit the edge of the table, yelping with a pitiful mewl at her feet.

  “Marissa what’s going on out there?!” hollered her mother from down the short hall leading to the kitchen beyond. “You guys better not break anything!”

  “You see, Sebastian! You’re going to get us both in trouble! Now, calm down!”

  Sebastian whimpered a few more times as he regained his feet. Then, he stuck his tongue at her. The pain he had been feeling only moments before evaporated before her eyes. He bounded around the furniture and down the hall toward their mother, who was making their lunch.

  Great, now the little booger is going to make up some lie and make mom mad at me.

  She huffed with the frustration only an older sister had to bear. Hers was the insufferable misery of having a hyperactive and younger sibling. She made her way back to the couch and sat down, worn out.

  Why can’t I have a normal brother? Why does he have to be so crazy?

  “I thought I told you to stop watching the news,” came a voice out of nowhere.

  “Oh god, mom, you scared me!” burst Marissa as she whipped her head around to see her mother and her brother standing in the entryway to the front room.

  Her mother only arched her eyebrows.

  Marissa whined. “Buuuut, mom, they’re my friends. I’m worried about them…”

  Her mother’s faced softened. “I know, honey. That’s why I don’t want you spending all your free time obsessing over it. Go out and play. Or, play a video game or watch some cartoons. But for now, no more CNN or MSNBC or whatever the heck it is you’re watching.”

  “K-CAL 9 news,” muttered the young girl without thinking, tears began to come forth. She wiped her eyes quick, so they did not fall. Tears that did not fall were not real tears, which meant she was not crying.

  Her mother walked into the room, around the couch to the coffee table in front of it. She grabbed the all-purpose remote, inputting the three-digit channel number for the Cartoon Network.

  Marissa watched crestfallen as the TV displayed the ridiculous yellow face of Sponge Bob Square Pants. He was arguing with Squidward over some mundane topic she did not care to witness again. She had seen so much of Sponge Bob; she figured she had seen every episode at least twice. Some of them, she had seen more than five times and had still enjoyed them. But now… she had no interest in the idiotic antics of those underwater weirdoes.

  She wiped at her face again, telling herself she was not crying, but could not help the hollow sensation in the pit of her gut. A knot of uneasiness had been bothering her ever since she had found out her two best friends had been kidnapped. It would not go away. No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, it remained. She could not get the idea her friends were in grave danger out of her mind. That was why she felt compelled to watch the news, to try to find out every new shred of information as it came out. That way she would know. That way she could begin to understand why this was happening.

  Why had they taken her friends, their brother and their brother’s friend?

  At least, that’s what the TV Lady had said. She mentioned something about a boy named, Andrew Ibarra. He was a childhood friend of Anthony’s, Elena and Mikalah’s brother. The woman with the over-styled hair and big, white teeth had said. She said terrorists had set a small bomb underneath the front porch of Andrew’s house. They had detonated it to get entry into the domicile. The entire front end of the house had blasted away. The front door was pulverized. Andrew’s father had been blown to bits in the process, only a few stains of blood was all that remained of him. Then, the assailants had stormed into the house and took Andrew. Or so the police surmised. Nothing else was disturbed. The boy’s younger siblings or his grandmother, who had been watching TV in one of the back rooms the entire time, were left alone. They had killed the father and took Andrew, and were gone within minutes, disappeared without a trace.

  Why did they take my friends? she thought, feeling pathetic, The pit of her stomach flipped, then flopped.

  “Marissa, my dear, are you ok?”

  They are such sweet girls. Why would anyone want to hurt th
em?

  “Marissa, are you listening to me?”

  What am I going to do?

  “Marissa Marie Avalon, answer your mother now!”

  Surprised, she realized her mother had been talking to her. The noise she’d been hearing was not coming from the television. She peered up at her mother. Everything was blurry, because of the tears marring her vision.

  “Huh?” she wondered, tone faint.

  Her mother tossed the remote on the couch. She made for her in a rush, grabbing her by both shoulders, forcing the girl to look her in the eyes. “Marissa, are you ok?”

  The little girl stared back. Her throat constricted, choking off her response, though she wanted to tell her mother she was ok, that she was not crying. She was unable.

  Her mother’s brow creased with concern. She embraced her, hugging her in a fierce clutch, one of her hands reaching up to cup the entire back of Marissa’s skull within her palm. “I’m so sorry about your friends, Mari. I am. I truly am, because I know how close you were to Elena and Mikalah. I know how much they’ve come to mean to you over the years. I know. That’s why I want you to take a break from everything going on right now. I want you to relax for a bit. Ok? Take it easy. Ok?

  “Marissa can you do that for me?” asked her mother into her ear, still stroking her head.

  Take it easy?!? Really? When someone bad is hurting my friends, you want me to take it easy?

  They were thoughts coming before she had the time to suppress them. They splashed across her consciousness before she could process them. The import of those errant tendrils caused her to react as if her mother had turned into Freddy Kruger. She shoved herself from her mother’s embrace and scooted across the coffee table to stand before the LCD-TV.

  “What are you talking about?!?” she raged.

  Marissa’s mother was shocked by her daughter’s vehement reaction. She looked as though she was about to get angry, but caught herself at the last instant. She realized there was something more important happening. Her daughter was hurting inside. This made all else matter little. “What would you like to do then, Mari? Watch the TV all night and work yourself into a frenzy with worry over your friends? How is that going to help the situation?”

  Marissa frowned at that. “I don’t know, ok! But, at least I will know…” She had started with moxie, but lost it when her insides flip-flopped once again. “I have to know…”

  Her mother sighed, resigned. “Fine,” was all she said and walked out of the room. She did not head back into the kitchen, though. Instead, she made her way out through the other portal leading from the living area. She was heading toward the bathroom, or maybe the bedroom she shared with Marissa’s father. She had her forehead in her hands. Was she crying?

  Marissa felt her heart lurch.

  “Is everything ok, Mari?” asked Sebastian from the kitchen doorway.

  Marissa glanced over at him with weary eyes. Of a sudden, she was exhausted. “I hope so,” she muttered, grabbing for the remote her mother had left behind.

  Her brother seemed to wilt. His former enthusiasm leaked from him like water through a sieve.

  The nine-year-old felt her chest constrict for a second time in the same minute. Her mother was one thing, but Sebastian was altogether something else. She could not abide any sorrow emanating from him.

  “Why don’t you show me how fast your new shoes make you run,” she cajoled as she changed the channel back to the news.

  Sebastian perked-up at once and came skipping into the front room. He made for the threshold her mother had disappeared through.

  Marissa shook her head in resignation, knowing her hyper-active sib was planning to run across the entire room.

  It shocked her to the quick when Sebastian reached his destination. He made ready to hurl himself across the chamber and did what she had least expected. Instead of running, he screamed and pointed.

  Thunderstruck, Marissa followed the tip of her brother’s tiny finger without thinking.

  There, peering through the second story window, next to the huge TV, was a man’s face.

  She had only a second to try and understand how that could be possible. There was no fire escape on that side of the building. There was no ladder. There was nothing for him to stand on. And yet…

  The momentary thought passed. In the heartbeat following, she realized his face was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She could tell it was humanoid, though covered in long flowing robes of black.

  She watched, mortified, as his blue irises turned hazel, then navy, then slate. On an on, they altered color. She felt a scream of her own fill her chest as the man’s features melted from one set to another. Asian, Caucasian, Hispanic, African-American, again and again, unstopping, ever-changing.

  Lips in a constant state of flux, his smile was wicked. His face became female with big, pouting lips and long blond hair. He puckered his lips at her, giving her a long distance kiss.

  She did scream then.

  And so did Sebastian.

  Seconds later, when her mother came hurtling through the apartment, she found her brother in a sodden heap upon the floor. The glass of the window strewn every which way, there was no sign of Marissa. Only the remote and small trace of blood upon the window seal remained.

  When her mother asked Sebastian what had happened, her voice frenzied, demanding, the boy did not answer at first. When she shook him, careful not to hurt him, but hard enough to get his attention, she asked again.

  Sebastian stared at her, eyes vacant, mouth near slack.

  “The Tornado Man,” he breathed through lips that almost did not move.

  “What?!?” her mother shouted.

  “The Tornado Man.”

  “What happened, Sebastian!” She was beyond control now.

  “The Tornado Man took Mari, Mama.” His face crumbled, drained.

  She had never seen the look of stark terror upon the face of her son before. She shuddered in horror.

  *****

  To those watching the news for the past two days, the disappearance of Marissa Avalon served to prove one thing and one thing only.

  Though there had been a forty-two hour pause, The Event had only just begun.

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ 2 ~

  An Unexpected Bundle

  Friday, November 26th, the Day after Thanksgiving, 2:35 pm…

  The instant she heard the sound of the lock unclasping, the rattling of the chain against the door, she scurried to the edge of the lantern’s light. She cringed, her feet pulled beneath her. She was trying to make herself as small as possible, becoming the smallest target she could manage. If breaking bones were a possibility, she would have.

  Be invisible, Marissa! Maybe he won’t see you!

  It was a hopeless wish. With eyes in the constant state of flux, she deemed he could see through the murkiest dark as though it was midday. After all, he wasn’t human. People like her had only one body, one face, the same color skin. Her features never changed as if made of wax. People like her could not float outside someone’s second story window. People like her could not fly.

  He could. He did.

  With her knees bunched against her chest, she wrapped her arms about her legs. She buried her face in the pit of one of her arms – the one facing away from the door. She heard the swing-scrape of the chain. It was now completely free from restraint. She heard the ancient tumblers of the doorknob turn. Before she could stop herself, she shivered as the hinges of the door squealed in protest and the portal opened. She heard his heavy trod upon the aged concrete. His thick leather boots pounded hard enough for her to feel the vibration beneath her bottom. After all, he was huge.

  She counted to three in her head - three steps.

  He was still out of arm’s reach.

  For now, she was safe.

  He could not grab her just yet.

  Her lips quivered like a mouse under a heat lamp, sensing danger, though not understanding from wher
e it came. Yet, in spades, she knew it was there. She could feel her muscles clench and unclench. They were misfiring at a break-neck pace, adrenaline pouring into her tiny person. If she’d been a few years younger she might have peed in her jeans. That warm, oftimes yellowish fluid would have ruined her low-top, white converse, for sure.

  Something large thudded onto the ground.

  She was certain the giant man-thing had not moved. This was something else. Unwitting, with little movement, she peeked over the edge of her left shoulder, daring a glance with but a fraction of her eye. She felt it widen at the sight of a great bundle, wrapped in a thick blanket. It was on the ground halfway between her and the door - her only escape.

  Only, there would be no escape.

  The man-thing was blocking the way with his massive bulk. His shrouded shoulders were almost as wide as the doorway itself. He was by far the biggest humanoid creature she had ever gazed upon. Like before, he wore a robe-like garment that covered his entire person, except for his sickening head. That had no form, no continuity. It melted, altered, with every third breath she took. Sometimes it bore long hair; sometimes it was bald or balding. Sometimes it was as fine as an infants’. At others, it was course and matted as if weighed down by weeks of grime and sweat. The color was never the same either. Nor was the shape of its’ skull or the sort of skin stretched across it. His orbs changed in size and configuration even faster. The features upon his face never quite seemed to form before they reformed all over again. He was male. She was certain, because the deep resonance of his voice was always the same. This despite the fact he took on the characteristics of a woman as often as a man’s.

  Thinking better of it, she looked away. Before she caught a glimpse of his ever-changing visage, she hid her vision from him. Otherwise, she would have emptied stomach, attempt to disgorge the food that was not within it.