The Siege (24 page)

“I will not be pushed into anything.”

“Well, that’s a foregone conclusion, neither will most of us.  But there’s nothing wrong with gentle persuasion in the right direction.”

“Whoa, you’re singing a different tune,” Dave observed.  “I guess that… What did they call it?”

“Flitch.”

“Thanks.  That flitch must have been on a crusade to make you a real stubborn bastard.”

“No, the stubbornness is mine all mine,” Burt assured Dave.

“But the negative attitude and rigid asshol-iness?

“Flitch.”

“How are you feeling now?”

Burt took a sip of his coffee and thought a moment.  “I feel like I have a lot of pieces missing.  Mia assures me this feeling will go away as I explore new ideas.  Speaking of which, are you interested in seeing my latest?”

Dave nodded and followed Burt into his bedroom.

“I decided that the light was best here.  So I moved my bed away from the windows,” he explained.

Dave approached the covered drafting desk and patiently waited until Burt took off the dustcover.

“Oh my god, Burt, this is great!” Dave exclaimed as he took in the colored cells of the graphic novel in front of him.

“I’m going to call it Dark World Raiders.  Mia suggested that I talk to Ted and Cid and get their take on the place.  I did and came up with some great visuals.”

“The monstrous hands are quite original. They are…”

“Reapers.”

“Makes you wonder if that’s where ‘snatched from death’s grip’ comes from,” Dave mused.

Burt stood back and watched Dave as he poured over the drawings.  He seemed to appreciate the content and the artwork.  Dave, who was normally quick with an insult, either didn’t have any handy or actually liked Dark World Raiders.

“The chick is too top heavy. She’ll pitch over if she takes a step,” Dave pointed out.  “Otherwise I think you have a winner here.”

Burt roared with laughter.  “That’s exactly what Mia said.  Funny, that’s how I saw our Mia when we first met.”

“Let’s see, I first saw the chick through a blue haze and then at the hospital.  I think Richie and I flirted with her.  OMG, I didn’t know she was an old lady.”

“Mia’s not old.  She’s just older than you,” Burt corrected.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m just telling you how it was and is.”

The short moment with the two of them connecting had passed.  Burt covered up the drawings, and Dave left the room.

~

Mike fought his way to the convenience store and back.  The wind had picked up and blew the accumulated snow across the previously shoveled walk in drifts.  If it wasn’t for needing a few necessities, he would have been glad to stay indoors.  His view from his condo was hampered by blowing snow, but it still was beautiful.  “It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas,” he sang as he waited for the elevator.

“Someone’s got his jolly on,” a female approved from behind him.

Mike turned around and smiled at the medium height, spectacled brunette who was pulling at the scarf that had gotten tangled in her shopping bags.

“Here, let me help you with that,” he said.  He waited a few seconds, and when the hot pepper spray didn’t emerge from her purse, he thought it was okay to proceed.  He unwound the cashmere and tucked it into one of the open bags.

“Mike Dupree.”

“Meg Armstrong,” she said, lifting off her fogged glasses to get a good look at her rescuer.

The elevator arrived, and Mike rode up with Meg to her floor which was two under his.  He held the door open so she could exit safely.

She turned around and asked, “Would it be too forward to invite you over to make cut out Christmas cookies with me?”

“No.  I’ll eat most of them though.”

“If you can keep it to an even dozen, then come to 6E at five-thirty.”

“I’ll be there. Can I bring anything?”

“Just you and an apron,” Meg said and turned around to advance down the hall.

Mike let the doors close.  He pondered the wisdom of getting involved with someone from his building.  “It’s just an evening of cookie decorating for cripe’s sake,” he scolded himself.  “Keep it platonic, and all should be well.”

Mike let himself into his condo and made quick work of putting away his groceries.  He pondered what kind of apron he could come up with.  He dialed Mia’s number to get advice.  The line rang busy.  He thought that someone might be on the computer, on dial-up.  He waited to see if Ted had it set up to ring the house, but the steady pulse of the busy signal just continued.  His stomach flipped.  He put his hand to his gut and wondered whether this was a paranormal signal or just gas?  The burrito he microwaved earlier had looked a bit dodgy.  He prayed he wasn’t coming down with food poisoning.  That would be a nonstarter with his new friend Meg.

He looked at his cell phone and saw that his cell service was still showing four bars, so he flipped through his contacts and chose Ralph Mendelssohn and pressed send.

“Well hello, Mr. PEEPs,” Ralph all but sang into the phone.

Mike, momentarily taken aback, could only come up with, “Yeah.”

“I hope this is a social call and not a Mia emergency?” Ralph asked.

“Social,” Mike blurted out.  “I was having trouble getting ahold of Mia to ask her advice, and I thought I would go right to the source with my question instead.”

“Sounds intriguing, and what do you mean you can’t get a hold of Mia?”

“I think the phone line’s down.  Probably the snow.”

“First, the cell tower and now the landline.  Poor dear, but that’s what she gets for living in the boonies.  What was your question?”

“I’ve been invited to a cookie decorating date.  It’s a first date, and the woman told me to bring an apron…”

“You don’t have an apron,” Ralph accused.

“Never needed one.  Don’t barbecue.”

Ralph sighed.  “Aprons aren’t just for barbecuing.  Do you have a table cloth or is that too feminine for you?”

“No table linen.”

“A beach towel?”

“Yes!  I have beach towels.”

“Okay, I’m assuming you don’t sew.”

“I sew, but my thread is either dress-shirt white or suit-pants gray.”

“That’s fine.  Now put this phone on record.  I’m going to give you instructions, and I don’t want to repeat them.”

Mike set his phone and said, “I’m ready.”

“Well, first you…”

~

The three knock sequence repeated four times before the doorbell rang.

“What’s the rule on answering the doorbell?” Cid asked Mia.

“I’m the last person to ask an etiquette question,” Mia said.  “Burt’s got the handle on urban legends.  All I know is that if I let him in, then step one has been accomplished.”

“We can run,” Ted said.

“How far do you think we’d get with me slowing you down?  I’m tough, but I have the baby to think of.  Besides, he would still find me.”

“I will fight them,” Murphy declared.

“You’re outnumbered,” Breeze said.  “Three ghouls and one Other.  I will fight beside you, sir.”

Mia looked at the young ghost.  The odds were against him, but he was determined to try.

“It’s all been done in stages,” Mia started and shook her head at her stupidity.  “He tested our defenses, tried to take out Murphy from the start.  Communication was severed, first the cell tower and now the landline.  He’s cut us off from the tangible world.”

“And then he waited for the snow to fall,” Ted said.  “No easy exit if we chose to run.  Also, our friends would assume our non-communication was due to the storm.  He thought all of this through.  It’s probably why he hadn’t approached you sooner.  He had to wait for the right time.  A seven month pregnant woman has only one thought on her mind, to protect her child.”

“He’s thought of everything,” Cid said.

“Not everything,” Mia said.  “Because the walls may have ears, I’ll not share this with you.  But I need time, ten minutes at the most.  Can you four distract him?  Engage him in conversation.  Invite him in if you have to.  I just need his mind absorbed in communicating with you.”

“I can do that,” Ted said. “Cid can back me up.  I want Breeze to guard the back.  Murphy, you better stand with us or he’ll think that Mia has made a break for it with you.”

Mia squeezed Ted’s hand and then Cid’s.  “Before we begin this, remember that I will not foster the thought of martyrs.  No one will sacrifice themselves.  The Other needs me intact and willing to sit down and listen to his deal.  We are not in peril, not when we have each other.  So buy me time, and hopefully, we will be able survive this siege until help arrives.”

Mia moved quickly up the stairs. She settled herself in the northeast corner of the house and opened her mind and called, “Komal.”

Ted put on his winter clothing.  Cid picked up the iPad and began to apprise Jake of their situation.  Two energon cubes were dispensed, and not only did Breeze lose that lost look, but his battle wound disappeared.

Murphy sharpened his axe, and when he was ready, he looked over at Ted and said, “Let’s do this.”

Ted waited until the seventh peal of the doorbell finished before opening the door.

The snow swirled around a gray mass.  Three more black masses stood behind the distortion.

“I’m sorry, but if you’d like to talk to me, you’ll have to manifest.  I’m not a sensitive; I’m a nerd,” Ted explained.

The gray mist solidified, and a man appeared, wearing a gray suit.  He had neatly trimmed gray facial hair that adorned a typical twenty-first century Anglo-Saxon face.  The only difference were his eyes.  Where one would expect them to be blue or green, instead they were deep purple, almost black.  Ted got the impression that the Other was attempting to appear to be a distinguished sixty-year-old English banker.  He adjusted his cuffs and let his hands fall to his sides.

“I trust this is satisfactory?” the entity asked in a Masterpiece Theatre presenter’s Kensington accent.

“A bit overdressed for these parts, but you’ll do.  Can I help you?” Ted asked.

“My business is with Mia, sir.”

“And whom may I say is calling?”

A twinkle of light flashed in the eyes of the Other before a smile radiated on his face. “A game, we are playing a game. Well, I’ve got time. Do you?”

Ignoring his question, Ted repeated, “Whom may I say is calling?”

“Tell Mia that Richard Chapman is here to discuss a mutually satisfying enterprise with her.”

“Dick…”

“Richard Chapman.”

“Richard, what exactly are you? Sprite, elf, ogre, ghoul?”

“Other.”

“Udder, like a cow’s udder?” Ted asked.

“O T H E R,” Richard spelled crisply.

“Cid, we’ve got another Other at the door. Would you go and see if Mia is receiving today?”

“What do you mean another Other?  Explain yourself!” Richard demanded.

“I’m telling you we’ve had Others coming out of the woodwork,” Ted lied, “…ever since Mia turned down the Brotherhood of the Wing.  You, sir, are late.”  Ted enjoyed the entity’s look of confusion.  He didn’t know how long he could keep the thing in this state of confusion, but he was going to try.

Cid called over, “Mia’s indisposed at the moment.  Who did you say it was?”

“Dick…”

“Richard!” the Other roared.

“Richard Chapman.”

“Hold on,” Cid walked up the stairs.  He counted to thirty before descending the steps. She asked me to collect your card.  As soon as we have phone service, we’ll call you and set up a convenient time for you to call on her.”

Ted waited for the entity to respond.  He noticed that two of the black masses had moved away and started heading back down the snow-covered drive.

“Your entourage is leaving.  Maybe you should beat feet and catch up with them,” Ted advised.

Murphy appeared behind Ted.

“I’m not here for you, farmer,” Richard said acidly.  “I’ll wait here until Mia is available.  I assure you, neither I nor anyone of you is leaving this farm until Mia and I’ve had a conversation.”

“Suit yourself,” Ted said and shut the door in the entity’s face.

Upstairs, Mia awakened from her trance.  She rose with a little difficulty as her increased weight seemed to have taken her flexibility away.  She took a moment to compose herself before leaving the room.  She stopped, walked into the bathroom and used the facilities.

The Other signaled to his goons to come closer.  It was time to apply more pressure. Perhaps setting the house on fire would bring Mia to the bargaining table.  An audible flush of water was heard from within the farmhouse.  Could it be that the humans were telling the truth?  If Mia had indeed been on the toilet, could she have also entertained other Others?  He was well aware he wasn’t singular in his chosen profession.  But he had marked her as his, hadn’t he?

Mia signaled to Murphy.  He met her on the stairs.  “Komal is sending Judy and Ed.  But it’s going to take some time for them to get here.  You need to get us help.  Get to someone that can see you.  Tom Braverman will be at the sheriff’s station.  If he’s not there, Dave is with Burt on the peninsula.  Maybe Burt will have an idea.  I’ll hold the Other and his three goons’ attention while you get away.”

Mia whistled for Maggie.  She attached the lead and hissed at Ted as she passed him, “I intend to draw the goons away from the rear of the house.  We need to give Murphy a chance to leave unnoticed.”

“Ahem, Mia, if I may,” Breeze asked permission to speak.  “I can try to …” he stopped talking, and before Mia’s eyes, the spirit took on Murphy’s facial features.  His sword became the cast iron axe that Murphy kept clutched in his hand.  The battle-worn uniform became the familiar dusty wear of the farmer.  “If they don’t touch me, then they’ll never know.”

“Stay behind Ted.  It stands to reason that I would want my husband protected at all costs.”

Mia took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Once she was composed, she opened the door.  “Oh, excuse me.  I have to take Maggie out.  Careful, she’s a bit of a drooler. I would hate for you to ruin your suit, Mister?”

“Chapman, Richard Chapman.”