Into the War

The chill, damp air finally pulled Claire out of her slumber. She hadn’t slept in a comfortable position, and her screaming neck was proof. Slowly she bent her neck forward, the tight muscles feeling like breaking bones as they stretched. Long, slow blinks gave way to shorter, faster ones as she attempted to break through the sleep glaze over her eyes. It took a few moments until her could focus, and then she just stared at the opposite wall of the closet she chose for her bed. Claire began flexing her toes and her feet to get the blood flowing; despite it only being the beginning of the end of October, the cold rain she could hear outside made the unheated air inside easily sinkable into one’s bones. The blanket she stole from the top bunk the night before would stay right where it was.

Her breath also came out in clouds of vapor, something she began to focus on as her mind struggled back into the waking world. She watched as it curled in front of her and wisped to her peripherals. It had been some time since she was able to just sit in wonder about the world, even something so simple as a visible exhalation of air. She watched a tendril spun out her mouth and curled to the right side of her vision. It was that moment that she became aware, simultaneously, of the breathing and movement of something else in the room. With wide eyes, Claire shifted her head ever-so-slightly to the right and eyes even further. The doe’s head was bent down and sniffing the edge of the blanket under which she was staying warm. She knew that does weren’t very big, this one couldn’t have been more than half again her own weight and stood maybe three and half feet to the shoulder, but from this vantage point it looked huge.

But she found herself mesmerized by the beast, its ears flicking for no reason as it took in the scents of the blanket and its occupant. Sensing that Claire was now aware of it, the doe slowly lifted its head and stared at her. It was quite beautiful, and Claire slowly pulled her left hand from under the blanket, careful not to spook it. The deer visibly tensed but made no movement to indicate it was frightened. As Claire extended her hand, the deer extended its neck, its cool, wet nose pausing momentarily before touching. It was Claire’s first genuine smile of joy in a couple of days, and she wished to herself that this moment would linger. But reality, especially the screwed up reality she’d been living the last few days, certainly didn’t allow for peace.

“Good morning, Claire,” came the voice of the trenchcoat man.

Her movements were so blindingly fast that she barely comprehended them consciously. But she found herself leaning back against the wall with pistol drawn and cocked. It didn’t even register that the doe had been spooked to dangerous levels of fear. Its eyes bulged from its skull, the neck muscles straining and hooves scratching against the carpet, an unseen force holding it in place. Claire paid it no heed, her focus was down the barrel sight and into the eyes of the man that had been haunting her for days.

“Why are you following – You know what? I’m tired of asking questions you won’t answer. Get the hell away from me!” Her voice was dangerous and hushed, but it had no effect on her visitor.

“Come now, love. You can’t kill me, not yet any way. And especially not with that!” He raised his hand, palm up, indicating the loaded pistol Claire pointed at him. “Don’t you even see that I’m helping you right now? You scared the shit out of the poor doe, and it’s ready to spin and tear off out of here, giving you a face full of hoof in the process! A moment, if you please…” And as his words trailed off, Claire watched as he looked at the petrified doe and raised his hand, thumb, index finger, and middle finger extended. It reminded her of a priest.

She watched as the animal calmed to its prior blanket-sniffing levels, and as though neither Claire nor the trenchcoat man were there, it moseyed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When he was satisfied, the trenchcoat man slowly raised his arms in askance. Claire studied him in that moment. A bald head she could see under the fedora, along with ample, but not disproportionate, ears. He had dense, black eyebrows and a nose that, if it were any bigger, would be in the realm of disproportionate. His lips were generous, but barely pink, and his jaw was set firm. Mocha skin completed the confirmation of his Middle Eastern heritage, which is why his eyes struck Claire as odd. They were emerald green, surrounded by a thick ring of black. Claire cocked her head slightly, like a curious dog, as she could almost swear the trenchcoat man’s eyes glowed.

“Go ahead, Claire. I know how you modern folk like to have your proof, and how you Americans love to use your guns. Go ahead and shoot. Get it out of your system.”

She closed her eyes as he spoke, and a strange thought entered her mind. I’m about to kill the Islamic Russell Brand.

“No… no. I’m not a Muslim, I’m Jewish… ish.”

The sound of the gunshot was deafening in the small bedroom. Yet, there he sat, as alive as could be.

“I told you that it wouldn’t work. I do hope that you didn’t give your bloody position away, though. As I told you twice now, Claire, you can’t stay here.”

Claire dropped her gun-toting hand to the floor and stared off into the distance outside the window.

“I don’t even know what’s going on. I’m so confused… There are people I know, but I don’t really know them. Things have happened that I don’t even remember. I’ve seen Eric killed, yet he’s still alive. I’ve seen the same man killed by the same… thing… twice!” Claire’s face became pained as she continued to speak, and single tear rolled down her cheek. “I don’t who, or what, you are. I don’t even know your name!”

Trenchcoat man lowered his arms and looked at his wounded white dress shirt. With a heavy exhalation, he said, “At least you missed the tie, that’s brand new. But the shirt I loved, and now it’s ruined.” He raised his gaze to meet hers. “It’s a lot to process, I know. But you’re not ready to learn all that you’ll need to know. That includes my name, and my nature. We’re still in the ‘follow your gut with prodding’ stage.”

“Follow my gut? How am I supposed to do that?” The consternation on her face had as much of an effect on the trenchcoat man as the gunshot.

“You’ll figure it out, love. All of you have…” And with that, he was gone… again.

Claire stared at the bed where the trenchcoat had just been. Follow my gut! Go to hell! Follow my- Her gut growled at the thought, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten in a very long time. How are you supposed to follow your gut when your stomach is empty? Then came the long, low rumble out of the north. It sounded like thunder to Claire, but the weather outside, she knew, was not conducive to lightning and thunder. Two more rumbles came quickly, and she understood.

“Eric,” she whispered to nobody.

She had to make her way to him. Even her empty stomach told her that. It may have been several weeks since any significant fighting had taken place, but something was happening now. If Eric was alive, then she had to find him. She stood slowly, her tense muscles tired. Her vision flashed as the blood flowed from her head, the momentary vertigo forcing her to put a hand to the wall to steady herself.

“Claire Hutchins! Claire, we know you’re in there! We just wanna talk!”

The voice was familiar, but it took Claire a moment to place the name. Police Chief Joseph. Shit! Just when she knew what she had to do she had to run into trouble. No doubt that the chief was here to arrest her for John’s death yesterday. Of course, she was the only suspect, but was she really capable of doing to John Friedman what the man-thing had done? Basic police work should’ve clued the chief in on that. No human being could thrust their hand through the neck of another. Especially since the evidence should show that Claire wasn’t even behind him! She had to get away.

“Claire,” came the chief again. “We know you’re armed, but there’s no reason to be frightened. We just wanna bring you in for questioning. A man is dead.”

She stayed quiet and searched the upstairs for a chair. Finding one in the master bedroom, she ran back to the back bedroom and closed the door, positioning the chair under the door to prevent entry. She grabbed the sheets off the bunk beds and tied a makeshift rope to the bedpost, then opened the window and punched out the screen. Peering through the rain, Claire saw no law enforcement outback of the house. The front door opened, then the footsteps began up the stairs. Now was the time.

Claire dropped the bedsheet rope out of the window and climbed out into the pouring rain. Whatever fatigue had been in her body immediately disappeared as the cold rain drenched her. Her shoulders burst into white hot pain as her muscles strained against her own body weight, but she held on and lowered herself to the ground, Chief Joseph’s pounding on the bedroom door loud and insistent. She heard the kick knock the door off of its hinges as she ran to through the toppled fence line and of to the right.

“Damn it!” Chief Joseph yelled through the rain. He keyed his radio, “Ryan, she’s coming around to your right!”

Claire sprinted past the four houses remaining in the row and turned to the right, trying to make it to the front sidewalk. If she could make it there, then her speed might be enough to leave the chief’s partner too far behind her. But the other officer was already waiting, gun drawn.

“Freeze, Hutchins!”

Claire stopped in her tracks, nearly losing her balance in the rain-soaked grass.

“Hands up where I can see’em!”

Claire put her hands up as she was told and closed her eyes in distress. This was going to be a weird day, she could feel it this time. She couldn’t predict how it was going to end, but she knew that she’d be somewhere she didn’t want to be. The only question was how she was going to get there, being arrested wasn’t going to help matters.

Ryan was Officer Ryan Powell, Claire deduced that once she was close enough to see his nametag. He wasn’t very tall, perhaps five foot eight, but he had a decent build; he was probably a football player or wrestler in high school. His hair was unkempt, the bangs were much longer than the rest of his hair, indicating that he must have had a modern day emo/skater cut following his last barber shop appointment. Now, it just looked a greasy mess. Pale blue eyes accentuated his soft, but generous nose, and though his mouth was set in firm, Claire could see a childishness in him were he to smile. Officer Powell was quite the button, even if he did have a pistol pointed at her.

“Ok, Hutchins. Place your gun on the ground and step to me.”

She did as she was told and anticipated his next command by turning around and crossing her wrists.

“Claire Hutchins,” Powell began. “You are under arrest for-”

Chief Joseph came through the house’s front door and into the pounding rain. “No, she’s not, Ryan. We still don’t know what happened, honestly. None of it seems to make sense.”

“Sir? But you said…” Claire couldn’t see his look of consternation, but she could hear it.

“I know what I said, son. I changed my mind. Turn her around and cuff her.” The chief stood next to Officer Powell as he turned Claire around. “I’m cuffing only for per safety protocol. You’re not under arrest. But you did ty to flee while armed. All we want is your side of the story.”

“My side? What other side do you have?” Claire winced as the cuffs were put in place. Through the deluge she followed the chief’s pointed hand to the back of the police cruiser. The waterfall of water down the window obscured any detail, but she could see Julie seated there. She nodded to herself as she was escorted to the back seat. “Hi, Julie,” she said to her ‘partner’ as she sat down, wincing as her soaked pants squished loudly and uncomfortably.

“Claire… Quite a mess we have here.” Julie’s voice was morose and monotone at the same time. Claire chuckled inwardly as she thought of Eeyore in drag.

“How did they know I was here?”

“Well, considering what you told me of where you were before here, I thought maybe you’d come to my old house to hideout.”

Clever, she thought with a smile. She looked down at Julie’s hands and saw that they were unshackled. In her best sardonic tone, she said to the chief, “Why is she not cuffed?”

Replying in kind, “She was unarmed and didn’t flee the scene, Claire.”

Sitting back with a sigh, Claire began to feel the uncomfortable vibrations. As two fighter jets screamed over the valley, she was aware again of the rumbles coming from the north. “What’s happening up there?”

Without looking back, Officer Powell answered, “Rebel offensive… Word is they got reinforcements out of Ohio. Pittsburgh has been taken out and they’re beginning to come down out of the Appalachians. It’ll be an unfun holiday season…”

Eric, hang on, baby! She wasn’t sure what she would be able to do should she find him, but she did know that she had to. The ride to the police barracks, and the few hours that followed, passed painfully slow. It was made all the more painful as Claire recounted the entire truth of the events from the day before. She knew that the only one to believe would be Julie, but she took some joy in the confusion of Officer Powell and Chief Joseph. The only surprise event was when Pastor Marty showed up.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he said apologetically. “There was just this rage that came over me, it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. And then Claire pointed the gun at me…”

“I don’t like being hit, Marty. It’s happened to me too many times. By the deceased, in fact.”

“What?...”

“This isn’t helping your situation, Claire,” said Chief Joseph quickly, one eyebrow raised.

“C’mon, Chief! Do you really think me capable of ripping a man’s head off with my bare hands, especially when I’m clear across the room?” Claire found her volume increasing with each word. A sideways glance to the pastor saw him turn green rapidly and then tear off to the bathroom.

“I understand what you’re saying, Claire, but there was no evidence that this man you told us about was even there. Nobody saw him.” She could see that he wanted to believe her, telling him about the food delivery on Friday morning in the other world seemed to strike a chord with him. But he just couldn’t suspend his reality.

The rumbles from the rebel offensive continued to intensify as the hours slipped by, and as this part of the conversation ended, there was an explosion that couldn’t have been but a few miles away. “Chief,” began Claire, “why are we sitting around and talking about this? There’s a war on, and it’s getting closer.”

BOOM!

The building shook violently, and the concussion sent Claire’s ears to ringing. The back half of the conference room collapsed right on top of Chief Joseph and Officer Powell. Julie screamed in fear and fell against the wall that was still standing. The vibrations that had been only a minor annoyance now step-changed in intensity. As the ringing in her ears subsided, she got her bearings and moved quickly to Julie. Grabbing the frightened woman by the hand, Claire ran into the main office of the barracks and searched around.

There! She ran to the small arms locker, already unlocked, and pulled out two pistols. With no conscious thought involved, Claire locked and loaded the pistols in moments. Right next to the locker was a small open metal box hung on the wall, and in it were the keys to the police cruisers outside. She grabbed two and made her way back to Julie, who was still stunned and weeping.

“You don’t have time for this, Julie,” she said commandingly. “Take these and find your girls! Get to the city!”

Julie looked down at the loaded pistol and car keys being placed in her hands. “Claire?... Claire?! What do you mean, Claire?”

“Julie! Look at me!” The woman’s terror was close to overwhelming her. “Think of your girls, Julie! They need you now, more than ever! Find them and get out of here!”

The building began to catch fire from the explosion that had rocked it just a minute before. Julie glanced back at the conference room, at the still bodies of the two police officers. Her heavy swallow told Claire that her fear was still in control, she wouldn’t move.

“JULIE!”

Julie’s head snapped to, her round eyes boring a hole into Claire’s soul. “What?”

“You need to get your girls and go to the city… NOW!”

“Right…” Claire could see realization setting in, calm setting in. It was time for Julie’s mama bear to take over. With a curious look, Julie asked, “What about you, Claire? Where are you going?”

“I have to find Eric.” She looked away and then back to Julie. “Take care of yourself, Julie. And thank you. Maybe I’ll run into you in the next world.” She winked and smiled. “C’mon, we gotta get out of here.”

They made their way out of the barracks and into the parking lot. Checking the numbers on the keychains, Claire led Julie to her cruiser. She hadn’t noticed that the rain had stopped, but she was aware of how much easier movement was in the police coveralls she had ben provided. Julie sat in the driver’s seat and fired up the car. She rolled the window down and gave Claire a frightened expression.

“I will miss you, Claire. I wish you could’ve stayed with us.”

“Just take care of your girls, Julie.” She bent through the open window and gave Julie a hug. The lump in her throat made her want to extend the goodbye, but a sudden surge of vibration in her gut told her it was time to go. “Go!”

Julie put the cruiser in drive and tore off down Sixth Street towards the ramshackle middle school, and her girls. Claire glanced hurriedly around the parking lot and found her cruiser. In the failing light, she hopped in and started it, surprised, but not surprised, by the powerful growl of the engine. She’d never driven a 5.0 before, and a bit of excitement joined the ever-more-powerful vibrations inside her.

She drove as fast as the roads would allow her. Main Street through town was easy enough, but once she got into Palm things became a little dicier. Brush and overgrowth impeded the roadway, as did more than one broken down vehicle. Making it even harder on herself, Claire decided that she wanted to avoid Hereford Square. She could make no guess as to whether she would encounter any trouble, but with what had happened there in her world, she felt it best to avoid it. Taking the route that Eric had first showed a couple of years ago, she made her way through Hosensack and onto Powder Valley Road. The going was slow, who knows how long it had been since a vehicle had actually driven on this road? She had to motor the cruiser over and through fallen branches, even denting the passenger side as she avoided, too late, the trunk of a large tree that had left barely a car’s width of space to pass by it. Doing it in the dark made her wish that she was like the T-800, able to see everything in the dark, even when the headlights were off.

Claire slowed the vehicle as she approached Route 100, just south of Macungie. The vibrations urged her on as fast as she could go, but she knew that the front was not far away. That meant military personnel, and military security. She pulled onto Route 100, but she could not see the traffic light at Shimerville Road until she pulled around the corner. The flashes of the constant explosions off to her right told the tale of danger she faced from here on out. And as she quietly pulled the police cruiser forward, she saw at the light up ahead the two guards, their backs turned and watching the battle. Claire chose boldness over stupidity.

The guards turned around when they saw the reflection of flashing blue lights. Claire watched as their hands went to their rifles as she slowed the vehicle to a stop before them.

“Identify yourself,” said the guard as her window came down. His matter-of-fact tone seemed important, so she copied it.

“Gentlemen, Officer Hutchins with a priority one message for Eric Wells.”

“Ma’am, we are in emergency defense posture, the fort is at risk of abandonment. We can’t let you pass and become a liability to retreat positions. Access denied.”

“Son,” she stressed the word for maximum derogatory effect. “I’m a fuckin’ police officer, we are trained in the same measures you are. Get out of my way and let me deliver my message.”

“Ma’am, this is federal government property! You have no jurisdiction here! Turn your vehicle around and evacuate the premises!”

“Soldier-” Claire began, but she couldn’t finish. The blinding flash of the explosion couldn’t have been more than football field away. The ground shook enough to unsteady the guards, and she took her chance.

The cruiser’s gas pedal hit the floor and its tires squealed and smoked. In an instant, the car was careening down the road at 60 miles per hour. For a moment, Claire was at odds with herself as she stared down the fork in the road; Route 100 veered to the left, and Route 29 continued straight ahead. But the moment passed, and the vibrations within her told her to go left. Odd, she thought, I have my own GPS. As she sped through Macungie, she couldn’t help but be mentally punched in the gut. so many homes were simply piles of rubble, others were riddled with bullet holes, or partially collapsed. Rusted carcasses of automobiles burned out weeks ago lined the streets. There was some semblance of normalcy thanks to the military’s occupancy. But there would no longer be the grand car shows under the summer sun here in Macungie.

As she sped out of the town proper, Claire began to listen to the vibrations inside of her. She was able to detect patterns and changes in the vibrations when she focused on them. In that way, she was able to feel them change as she approached Alburtis Road. The tires of the cruiser squealed again as she fishtailed the rear end on the left turn. Up ahead she could see it, she could feel it. A series of buildings lay off to the right, she had no idea what they were once for, but she knew that in one of them was Eric. A turn to the right and then quickly to the left brought her to an inner circle between the buildings.

Claire shut off the police cruiser and just left it, allowing her internal vibra-GPS to lead her to Eric. The fighting felt like it was only a stone’s throw away, and she scrambled through the throng of people, all scrambling under the artificial lightning, thunder, and earthquakes, to the last building on the right. She darted into the building and found herself in a hallway. It was empty but gave her a feeling of deja vú as it reminded her of Fell’s back home.

The building seemed to lurch after a gigantic nearby explosion. Dust fell from the ceiling and cracks appeared in the walls as she made her way to the end of the hallway. Pushing hard through the door, she could feel her insides clenching with the intense vibrations. The wide open warehouse floor was full of men and women in uniform. The yells of orders going out to each company had to fight over the noise of the battle outside. A random thought told her she was impressed that the soldiers could understand anything said to them in the din. Claire’s vibra-GPS told her to continue to the end of the floor.

“Echo Company! Fall in!”

Eric! Her mind screamed it before her mouth could form the word. “Eric!”

She ran in between the ranks of the companies, the vibrations within her again threatening to tear her apart. Claire didn’t care…

“Eric! Eric Wells!”

He barely saw her then she jumped into his arms. He held her tightly as he heard her scream his name again, this time into his ear. A couple of moments was all he allowed before he pushed back to arms length.

“Claire, honey, what are you doing here?!”

She barely heard him, she just looked at him. His hair barely a quarter-inch long beneath his camouflage cap. His six o’clock shadow of a beard following the solid line of his jaw. His crystal blue eyes staring down at her along the line of his large, yet still proportionate, nose. Eric was the most beautiful man she had ever seen, even with the graying hair on his chin. As she looked deep into his eyes, Claire had a replay of Eric’s death from Saturday night… a lifetime ago.

Eric’s hands were on her shoulders, “Claire, you can’t stay here! You don’t belong here!”

You can’t stay in this world, Claire. You don’t belong here. The voice of the trenchcoat man reverberated in her head. The vibrations in her body doubled her over. The explosions began to tear apart the warehouse. Eric threw her against the wall. Time slowed to a crawl.

Claire turned her head and saw the explosions working their way down the length of the warehouse, each successive blast sending bodies burning and flailing through the air. She watched the flames approach as the white aura surrounded her and the vertigo began. Her head followed the advancing flames until they reached Eric, who was making to throw himself over her to try and protect her. She watched as the flames instantly boiled his skin and torched his clothing. For the second time in a week, Claire was watching Eric’s death. The white aura encompassed her completely.

* * *

Claire sat against the wall in a huff. How could Eric… excuse me, Captain Wells… just scold her in front of his company and make her sit down? She wanted to fight, damn it! It didn’t matter that the battle was close enough that fighting in it was a foregone conclusion, he didn’t reserve the right to treat her like a damn child! She pulled her pistol from her waistband and checked it, if only for a distraction from her anger.

Then a chill rolled over her body and she was momentarily blinded by what she could only say was the flash of a camera. It was only a breath later that she realized she wasn’t alone. She looked to the person that was now next to her. Her jaw dropped and all of the blood drained from her face as she saw… herself.

Continue following Claire on her journey in Chapter 7 using the link below:

By The Firelight