Genesis

Shaun Townsend stared at the sheer wall of ice before him. At the bottom of the crevasse, the sun was but a memory, its beams of light only able to penetrate the depths enough to bathe the walls in a deep azure glow. How far down had they climbed? Shaun wondered. He watched introspectively as the last members of his platoon repelled down the wall. As a member of the private security firm known as Saturn, he was used to being dropped into hostile locations to deal with unknown enemies, but this was not Afghanistan, Colombia or the Congo. This place was desolate. The only life for miles was a colony of penguins, and he seriously doubted that anyone needed an armed security force of twenty to deal with penguins.

The paranoia was like a virus, creeping into every crevice of his thoughts. He was not a coward. He would gladly rush head first into a firefight with insurgents any day of the week, but the glacier was like an alien planet and the unknown was far more frightening than anything he could imagine. The scope of the mission was the least of his worries, however. His fingertips stung from the bitter cold. The wind-swept plains of ice at the surface seemed to pierce through the white alpine soldier get-up he wore with little problem, and while it was warmer down deep in the glacier, there was some lingering anxiety that his fingers might be too numb to pull the trigger of his assault rifle when the time came.

“Okay, men, I want four squads of five. Squads one through three will serve as both scouts and the front lines. Squads four and five will stay behind with our benefactors.” The platoon’s commanding officer spoke up, snapping Shaun back into soldier mode.

He was in squad five. More sitting and waiting was just what he did not need. Babysitting duty meant more time alone with his thoughts—more time to worry. He needed to confront his unseen foe head-on, not wait until it ambushed them in the dark. The ghostly green glow sticks that lit the path into the icy caverns provided just enough light to keep the soldiers from getting lost. If someone or something wanted to sneak up on them, those little lights would not help one bit.

Base camp was small, with squads four and five forming a semi-circle around the so-called benefactors that they had been hired to escort. Shaun listened to the hushed murmurs of the pair. What little he knew about them was that one was a lady doctor, though he could not learn much from her appearance. She was just as heavily bundled as he was. Her companion, however, seemed right at home in the cold. Shaun suspected he was an Inuit or a Sherpa from the look of his dark skin, but even that could not explain why the man was dressed more for a ski trip than an expedition to the Antarctic. He did not even wear gloves.

The ice creaked as they waited, echoing in a way that sounded as if the whole place might cave in at any moment. Other than quiet whispers amongst the squads, and his own breathing, this was the only sound that Shaun could hear. Radio contact with the other squads was impossible this far down, so the only hope to hear if trouble was coming was to keep as quiet as possible.

Alley Cat

“Get back here, you little shits!” The constable yelled, his voice ragged and out of breath from the long chase.

“Not on your life, fatty!” Seko called back, turning his head to show the officer the red of his tongue while he was at it.

Seko and Serio Strife (ages fourteen and eleven respectively) were the constant bane of local law enforcement. The orphaned brothers had thievery down to a science. Serio was the hard luck story and distraction. He was a bit of a run and showed the scars of living on the streets for too long. A chunk of his right ear had been torn off by a stray dog and there was a nice gash across his left eye from a knife fight he should have avoided. There was no question that left alone, he would have been found lying face down in a gutter, but Serio had the good fortune to have Seko at his side. Like his little brother, Seko was short with a dirty mop of unkempt brown hair. Seko, however, was a scrapper. Long before the two were on the streets, Seko was an expert at getting into and out of trouble. The particular bit of trouble he was in today involved a rather plump chicken stolen right out of the butcher’s window.

Seko cackled loudly as he carried the chicken under one arm like a football. His makeshift shoes, which were little more than soles tied to his feet with bandages, hit heavy on the cobblestone streets and splashed in puddles as the teenager ran with that night’s meal.

“Seko, wait for me!” Serio’s small voice pleaded.

The younger of the Strifes was lagging behind, as usual. Seko did his best to provide for his little brother. He stole chicken so that the kid would have protein and grow big and strong. He let Serio have the better pair of sneakers—an out of pair style that only had a hole in the big toe. Yet, Serio still had trouble keeping up.

“You can make it, kiddo! It’s just a few more blocks.”

Higher Ground

It started with smoke, but not just any smoke—marijuana, pot, weed—the mind altering sort of smoke that calms the nerves, relaxes the soul, and makes you feel lighter than air. Its sickly sweet aroma permeated into every nook and cranny of Simon’s one-bedroom apartment. His late night toke and gaming sessions had become a ritual Saturday night occurrence. Whether it be with a group of friends around the kitchen table playing some Settlers of Catan, or playing some Team Fortress 2 online with complete strangers, the ritual remained the same.

“Oh, nice shot! That one nearly got me!” Casey’s voice echoed in Simon’s headset.

Shotgun blasts, the rattle of machine gun fire and the ping of an aluminum bat followed. The blue aura of his computer screen lit the room as Simon racked up kill after kill. It might have been team-based combat, but it always felt good to lead the team in kills. His friend’s prattling gamer talk was but a mild annoyance with Simon feeling as mellow as he did.

“You’re en fuego tonight, dude—so good that it needs to be said in Spanish!”

“Thanks,” Simon responded calmly, “Heavy coming in on your left.”

“Got him!” Casey shouted as the round ended and a tally of their stats scrolled the screen. “What are you smoking tonight?”

“Same shit I always smoke.”

“You’re the only person I know that actually plays better when he’s high. You’re like some kind of pot-smoking wunderkind.”

“I’m not that high,” Simon said indignantly. “I only had enough to take the edge off.”

“Whatever you say, man. If you’re going to play the way you’ve been playing, you can be as high as you want.” Casey was as dismissive as usual. “I don’t care what you do as long as you’re sober enough to hit the fair tomorrow. You know there’s going to be some fine honeys there and I don’t want to miss my chance to find a Mrs. James because you’re still tripping.”

Simon harrumphed. He needed a best friend more supportive of his extra-curricular activities. He had plenty of friends that he smoked with and considering Casey’s penchant for giving him shit about it, they all seemed like better choices. What made it worse was the entire reason for Casey’s antipathy towards marijuana was that he did not smoke, thus logically it was a stupid activity.

Irish Eyes – Chapter Six

Twenty-four hours after the wake, Michael was buried. The ceremony went off with few people speaking to one another and many uneasy glances. Stephanie was filled with uncertainty. Gwen’s story about the girl that accompanied her just did not add up and Cael was once again conspicuous by his absence. She vowed to find out the truth as soon as the unpleasantness of attending her brother-in-law’s funeral was over. Cael had problems of her own with the entire Foley clan staring daggers at her through the proceedings. The only two allies she had were Brigid and Emma, and neither of them were in the position to help her out if the angry glares turned into something uglier. Fortunately, even with the latent hostility in the air, the burial went off without a single argument. It was a cheerless affair that all of the parties involved were glad to see come to its conclusion. The Foleys returned to Ireland and Cael was left to sort out the changes in her life once again. Everything returned to normal, or at least as normal as any of the days had been since her transformation.

That Saturday afternoon, Gwen found Cael dressed in the same dirty, oversized red t-shirt that she had worn for days before the wake. The problem of finding a new wardrobe for her daughter was certainly an important one, but Cael seemed perfectly content to lounge around the house all day. Her hair was starting to look like a bird’s nest again, which annoyed Gwen quite a deal, considering how much effort she had put into making it look good just days before. At least Cael was taking showers again. It was a small blessing, but Gwen knew that she had to take things one step at a time with the girl. She contemplated offering a Sunday outing where Cael could pick out some clothes in her size as well as get the haircut that she so desperately wanted. If she was not going to take care of her hair, Gwen figured there was no point in keeping it long. Unfortunately, Gwen had other problems to deal with before she could have a mother-daughter excursion, namely her sister. Stephanie was insistent that they needed to talk and a Saturday afternoon became the ideal time to do so.

“Cael, can’t you please put something else on? Your Aunt Stephanie is going to be here soon and I don’t want you looking like you’re living out of your laundry hamper.” Gwen pleaded.

Irish Eyes – Chapter Five

 

Welcome.

Cael stared at the blue and green swirls on her monitor, waiting for her computer to finish booting up. The PC was top of the line and way more than she ever needed, but her father had surprised her with it for getting a Scholar Athlete award the previous semester. All it was to her was something to do homework on, talk to friends and look at pictures of LOLCats. Really, she could have gotten by with a much cheaper model. None of this was currently at the forefront of her thoughts, however. It had only been two days since her father died and left her stuck in a body that was entirely alien to her. As a man in the prime of his youth, she of course had been fascinated to no ends by the female form just a week ago, but now that one stared back at her in the mirror everything was different. She was a frightened virgin again, nervous about what she would see underneath the thin layers of fabric. There were, of course, parts of her body that were constant reminders of what she would find, but she preferred to not think about it. Her body disgusted her, thus she still wore the same t-shirt and shorts that she had put on days earlier to talk with her mother. That conversation was still fresh in her memory and was the reason why she had started isolating herself.

Curiosity and a lack of human contact, however, drove her online. She wondered if there were other suffering like she was, trapped in the wrong body and tortured by the fact that there was nothing they could do to change it. She might have had a solution to her own problem in mind, but with an ocean between her and that answer, she might as well not have had one at all.

The screen finished loading and her instant messaging program popped up. She had it set up to sign on as soon as she turned her computer on, as normally she was more than willing to have a back and forth with one of her friends. Today was a little different. Even through the impersonality of the internet, she was not ready to talk to them. She thought maybe in the weeks to come, she could use this as a source to stay in touch without them having to see her, but she knew it was impractical to avoid them forever. Apparently, they were already quite aware of her absence, as indicated by her offline messages.