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Displacement By Danielle Krieger Chapter 1: Premonition It was a rather cool and windy afternoon. The alley between a brick and stonewalls of two local businesses was the best shield that Jack Diangelo could find for a few blocks. His rather long, unkempt dark brown hair whipped around his face as he lifted one side of his long trenchcoat to light a cigarette. After completing the task, he let the coat fall into place and grasped the cigarette with two fingers of his right hand. He released the smoke as it too whipped in the wind, vanishing from sight. He shivered a little. His T-shirt and jeans combination of clothing appeared worn and somewhat dirty. His dark-colored shoes looked aged, tattered, and dirty as well. On his back and over his shoulders was a backpack that contained almost everything he owned. He was only seventeen and had been homeless since his parents died a year and a half ago. To avoid being forced into the unwelcome state of foster care, he fled his home state of Washington, only to end up in--as he described it--an even worse off shit hole in western Kentucky. He never much cared for "hicks". Suddenly, a strange sensation came over him and the world around him seemed to enter into slow motion. ... Over a moss-covered rock and ferns, a man's weathered face appeared. Beads of sweat dripped down his broad forehead but his breathing seemed normal. His dark hair was cut into the military "high and tight" style. His eyes, blue as they were, seemed cold and collected. Ready to expect the unexpected. The radio headset triggered a blinking red light on the earpiece. Tapping the earpiece, the man stated, "Alpha Fox, go ahead." Radio feedback made a scratching sound, "Alpha Fox, this is HQ. What is your 20?" "Approximately, three hundred yards from the target site, over." "ETA?" "2230, maybe. Unclear. The terrain is choppy and you dropped us off at the wrong time. Tell the idiots in Air- traffic Control to judge the vector a little better next time, over." "Copy that, Alpha Fox. ETA, 2230. Radio silence engaged." ... The cigarette approached his lips again. He sucked in the smoke, then inhaled. Releasing the smoke steadily, he seemed to be concentrating. ... The main hopped over the rock, removed the headset and stuffed it into his pocket. Keeping silent, he signaled to someone or something to follow him. A second later, five men of varying ages came piling over the rock dressed similarly to the first man. The attire was a black shirt, camouflage cargo pants, shin-high black boots and a small backpack. All six men, led by the first, tore down the hill at blinding speed. They were all composed and determined, they're faces reflected this. Moving faster than most average humans, the men came to the base of the hill and bolted through the underbrush of the forest ahead. Keeping on the move and dodging trees easily, they blazed their own trail. The man in the rear carried a pack slightly bigger than the rest and it had a tall, thin, black pole sticking out of it. The radio man, appropriately. Soon they were on another downgrade and tore down it with just as much ease as before. Not long after, they were approaching a clearing. Diving forward with the skill and grace of a well-seasoned gymnast, the front man dove and rolled into a small piling of fallen trees. Taking cover behind the closest one to the clearing, he slowly peered over top. His men, following his lead, performed a similar maneuver. He held up his right hand balled into a fist and scanned the clearing ahead. ... The "cherry" on the end of the cigarette had grown longer as he took a deep drag. His heart pounding, he inhaled, and released the smoke quickly, his breathing labored. 'Am I imagining this?' he thought. 'Not a chance, it's too real to be a dream...' ... A rustling sound emitted from the underbrush beyond the clearing. The front man quickly lowered his fisted hand and all the men placed their M-16A2 assault rifles in a ready position. Two of the men removed their packs. One pulled out a large metal disk and a tube with a fitted tripod at the bottom. The other pulled out a similar mechanism. Another man pulled up an M-60 machine gun, clicked the tripod "legs" into place and readied the weapon. They all waited in still anticipation. The rustling sound grew louder until four figures floated into the clearing. Their body radiated light like a permanent aura and they took the shape of very smooth looking humanoids. Each simply raised a hand to "waist" level and stopped. The lead figure, appearing somewhat like a female, scanned the area. "Her" aura refracted and bent like mercury flowing in weightless suspension. "Now!" The lead man shouted and the 'firefight' erupted. The projectile rounds bounced off what seemed like a spherical force field around each figure, none of them penetrating the defense. The figures returned fire with an odd, green energy blast. These blasts slammed into the trunks the soldiers were using for cover. Spots where they had hit were charred black and smoking, but the soldiers remained vigilant with return fire. Two of the men were firing off mortars and grenades, blanketing the area with shrapnel and dust. Machine gun rounds could be seen careening through the smoke and dust as well as the rounds from the M-16s. The figures kept slowly advancing, showing no signs of being phased by the projectiles, grenades, or mortar rounds. "Corporal, radio back to HQ!" The front man shouted. "We need to blanket this place with something! We ain't doin' shit with this!" "Yes, sir!" The man in the back replied and immediately set to work. When the front man returned his attention to the fray, he is met with the lead figure. "Her" aura surged red and she fired a blast at point blank range. The man's headless body slumped, the stump that used to be his neck and head smoking. One by one, the other men are picked off, green energy blasts ripping through their bodies. Occasionally, a splash of blood spots the area in red, but the wound is immediately cauterized and the body falls limp. The receiver, much resembling a black telephone receiver, lay next to the limp hand of the radioman. Radio static can faintly be heard. "Alpha Fox, this is HQ, go ahead," A voice calls from the receiver. "Alpha Fox, this is HQ, do you copy? Alpha Fox?!" Silence sweeps the area. Finally the receiver squawks. "Good-bye, men. You served us well." The radio again falls silent. ... The cigarette fell to the ground at his feet, bouncing once, then extinguished in a small puddle. "What the hell was that all about?" Jack whispered to himself. His eyes rose from his feet to a level position. "That was seriously fucked up!" Off in the distance, he could hear a soft familiar voice. He turned his head to the entrance to the alley as a fairly new model car passes by. Steven Coor, a friend of his, appeared from the street side of the stone building. He'd known for some time that his friend was a little weird, but being friends since Jack had arrived in Granger, he'd gotten used to it. Slowing from a run to a trot to a Steven's token femme walk, his friend approached, panting a little. His short, red, spiked hair barely moved in the wind. He came up and met Jack's eyes with his own bright green ones. "Where've you been, Jack? I've looked all over." Steven claimed between breaths. "You know me. I'm the vagabond, remember?" Jack smiled. "Yea, all to well. Listen, some of the rest of us were gonna got together and hang out. Wanna come?" "Hang out? Doing what?" Steven shrugged. "I dunno... something." Jack seemed a bit agitated. "What is there to do in Granger, huh?" He motioned with one hand to the town beyond the alley. "There's nothing out there but a sorry excuse for a grocery store, a few gas stations, a couple burger places, and a fucking Wal-Mart!" Steven stared at his friend examining him. "You all right, Jack? You seem unreasonably tense." Jack shook his head. "I got raided by the cops last night. I had to get out of that house. Now I don't even have a roof over my head. Fuck, what am I supposed to do?" Steven sympathetically placed a hand on his friend's shoulder as a tear rolled down Jack's cheek. "Considering the alternative is foster care in Washington, I don't know, but we'll figure something out." Jack had always been something of a stonewall when it came to emotions, but certain events always brought out the truth. Steven knew his friend was struggling with more than being lost and homeless, but could never put his finger on it. Even being considered best friends, Jack didn't share much - though Steven knew he wanted to. Steven gently lifted Jack's head from his hands with his own free hand and brought him up to meet his eyes. "Look, the shits hit the fan, I know. Come with us for a while and maybe you'll forget some of your troubles. Deal?" Embarrassed, Jack wiped his eyes and his cheek. He simply nodded. "You got enough smokes for a while?" Steven wondered. "Yeah, I've got about a pack and a half left. A week's worth, at best." Came Jack's reply. Steven pulled out a cell phone and pressed a speed-dial number. ... Kylie Moss, a junior at Middle Grove High School, plopped limp and face first onto her bed, obviously exhausted. Her strawberry-blonde tresses engulfed her head. Being quite the promising student in all the advanced placement courses was weighing on her. 'Two in one day,' she thought. 'The horror.' Middle Grove High was once an all-county school. Due to recent population increases, newer schools were built elsewhere in the county. Most of the students mocked the fact that other students were able to go to cooler, better schools and they were stuck with a "thirty year old mold factory." Kylie lifted her head with a little extra effort and pushed herself off the bed. "Dear God, I'm going to hate going to work tonight," she complained to herself. "Oh, well. At least it's Maurice's and not Burger King." She gathered some clothes for work and placed them in the bathroom for later reference. She heard her phone ring in her room. She slowly paced to the end table beside her bed and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" She asked sweetly. "Hey, Kylie, it's Steve." The voice on the other end announced. "Hey, Steve. How's things?" "Okay, I guess. Listen, I wanted to know if you'd like to join some of us at BK for a hang out session." She nodded as if he were right there talking to her. "Yeah, I guess, but I can't stay long. I've got to go to work tonight." "Hey, that's cool." He paused, seeming to recall something. "Hey, I found Jack." She brightened. "Cool, where was he hiding?" "Oh, between the old Kinsig's and Rochester buildings havin' a smoke." "Okay. How's he doin'?" "Not so good. The cops raided that vacant house he was crashing in, so he's gotta find a new spot." Her heart sank. "Man, that's rough. I kinda wish my parents weren't such tightwads and let him stay here." "Ditto, but can't do anything either. Same deal." "Okay, well I'll see you there." "Cool. Later." She hung up the receiver, grabbed her keys and purse while heading out the door. ... Trent Patterson set his helmet down next to his locker as he plopped onto the bench. After putting in the combination, the lock released its hold and the wide locker swung open. He shoved the helmet inside and proceeded to rip off the jersey and shoulder pads in one motion. He was pretty well built. He wasn't Mr. Universe or anything, but came close to the high school equivalent. His black hair was clipped short to his head with a few blonde streaks in it--the "frosted look". His eyes were a deep brown and he had an almost olive complexion. Stuffing the shoulder pads and jersey into the locker, he easily stripped the rest of the way, wrapped a towel around himself, and headed for the showers. As he passed the final row of lockers, his towel was stripped from his body. He could hear a fellow football player chuckle. "Wee Willie's exposed and I've got the towel of death. Your move!" Sean Kipling announced rather excitedly. Trent looked down, felt the draft, and discovered his classmate was getting better at his craft. Trent was also fairly well endowed down there. "C'mon, Sean. You had your fun. Gimme my towel back." Sean set into a defensive stance, threatening to use the towel as a weapon. Trent reached for it and Sean surrendered. "Thanks," Trent sighed. Through chuckling Sean asked, "Hey man, what d'you think of Coach Neilson's new 'power play'. Think we'll make it against Westerfield?" "I dunno. Seems flawless, but could get us into trouble, especially the QB if they break the pocket," Trent replied. Sean pondered this as Trent continued into a shower stall. "You could be right," Sean agreed. "Helping out with Offense when I ripped up my leg last year helped a bit." Trent informed. Sean chuckled. "Chauvinist." "Am not!" Trent protested. Imitating an odd British accent, Sean pointed out, "You whine like a mule." "Shut up, Sean." A cell phone chorusing "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" could faintly be heard. "What the heck is that?" Sean wondered. "My new cell. Could you get it for me?" Trent asked. "Sure, man." Sean trudged over to where Trent's locker was, half dressed, and answered the phone. "Yeah?" Sean asked. "Who is this?" A female voice inquired on the other end. "Who is this?" Sean repeated, stressing the final word. "Look, is Trent there?" "Yeah, he's in the shower. I'm here until he gets his hands dry. Now, who is this?" "Kylie." A little light bulb turned on in Sean's cranium. "Oh, sorry Kylie. Didn't recognize you on the phone." "You either." Silence ensued until Trent came out of the shower and dried his hands. He grabbed the phone from Sean. "Y-ello?" He stated. "Hey, 'sup?" Kylie asked, sweetly. "Not much, just hittin' the showers after a fairly hard practice. What's up with you?" He wondered. "Not a whole lot. Hey, some of us are gettin' together at BK in a few, care to join?" "Yea, sure, sounds cool." "They found Jack, y'know." He stood looking somewhat concerned and relieved all at once. "They did? Who did?" "Steven. Found him grabbin' a smoke between the old Kinsig's and Rochester buildings." "That's good. He okay?" "Yeah. From the sound of it, Steven wants to bring it up to a couple of us, see if there's anything we can do. The cops raided Jack's spot last night. He's gotta move again." "Alright, I'll be there in a bit. Later." He punched a button, hanging up the phone, and hurriedly got dressed. Sean looked at him with a puzzled look. "Girlfriend callin' again?" Sean interrogated. "No, Kylie's not my girlfriend. I don't have one, you know that. Alyson and I split up two weeks ago, remember?" Trent pointed out, matter-of-factly. "Yeah, but why the urgency?" "Steven..." Trent began. "The queer guy?" Sean asked. "Yes, the gay Steven, anyway... he found Jack stopping for a smoke and found out that the cops raided the abandoned house that Jack's been staying in. Jack's got nowhere else to go. With his parents dead and the Feds on his ass, he's on the run." "Why are the Feds on Jack's case?" "His parents are dead. He's homeless because he refuses to go into a foster home. Can't say as I blame him, but the Feds seem to disagree with his idea." "Shit. That's pretty tight." "No, shit." Trent grabbed his jacket and fished in the pockets of his jeans for his keys. "I gotta go man, see ya tomorrow." Sean just nodded. ... Steven and Jack rounded the Kinsig building and headed to Steven's '80's model Topaz when they spotted a group of three guys dressed like Goths leaning against the car in varied fashion. Steven and Jack stopped in their tracks as the three boys came off the car and approached them. The first was wearing his raven black hair in spikes atop his head. He was apparently the spokesman. Jack didn't recognize any of the boys, but Steven looked terrified. Offering a coy smile, the spokesman greeted Steven and Jack, "Well, well, if it isn't girly-boy fagot and the stooge. Hey guys." Jack grimaced, "'The Stooge'? What are you, trapped in the 60's?" He eyed the spokesman. His eyes had blood red irises, definitely contacts. He wore a black leather collar with shiny silver spikes. Other than that, everything he wore was black and baggy. "Ha, ha. Very funny. Did you come up with that all by yourself?" The spokesman spoke mockingly. "Yeah, actually. I have a higher than third grade education. Which is more than I can say for current company." Jack shot back. The spokesman grew angry and tired of the game. "Look here weasel, do you know who I am?" "No, and frankly don't care." The spokesman took a step forward, getting nose to nose with Jack, who stood his ground. "What do you want, Chase?" Steven pleaded. Not turning from a locking gaze with Jack, Chase raised his left hand and pointed at Steven. "Shut up, fag, or you're next." The two behind Chase cracked their knuckles. "Look, other than you need a little Scope, I don't know what your problem is. Why don't you just step off, huh?" Jack suggested, rather confidently. Chase took a step back. "What's your damage, man?" He scoffed. "Not worth my time..." He motioned to the other two and walked around Steven and Jack. "Later, fag." One of the other boys, a rather heavy-set one, called to Steven. The three walked around the corner and vanished. "What the hell is your problem, Jack? Where'd that come from?" Steven pleaded. Jack shook his head. "I... I dunno. Never done that before. Weird..." "That was Chase Kinsig. His dad used to own the store right here. He's kinda infamous around here and you toyed with death standing up to him." Steven informed, venting the anxiety of a few moments ago. "I don't know. Let's just get in the car and grab a bite while we wait for the others, okay?" Jack suggested. Steven shook his head, "Whatever..." The both got into the car and drove toward the north edge of town. Chapter 2: Outings Kylie reached the Burger King first and decided to grab something to eat while she waited for the others to arrive. While she waited for her double cheeseburger and medium soda, Trent came in the door. "Hey Kylie," He greeted. "Hi Trent," She smiled. He glanced at the menu board trying to decide what he was hungry for and talked aside with her. "So, how many of us are showing up to this little get-together?" "I'd guess maybe five, six at the most." "Better grab one of the big booths at the back, then." She grabbed her tray as it arrived. "Sure thing." She headed to the fountain to fill her soda and glanced at the dining area for an open booth. ... Soon, almost everyone was assembled. Kylie, Trent, Steven, and Jack were already enjoying their meal when someone entering caught their attention. Two other teenagers, one girl and one boy, came through the door. The girl was Mikaela Drake. She had long, flowing, brown hair, a beautifully proportionate body, and green eyes that would bowl over any heterosexual male. She wore a red blouse that hugged the curves in her torso and a black mini-skirt that did the same to her hips and half her thighs. The boy was Daniel Page. He wore his blonde hair to about ear length, but shaved the rest. He was quite muscular for someone not in the Middle Grove High sports program. He wore a long- sleeve black shirt, loose dark green pants, and dark brown shoes. A distinguishing mark was the pennant on a silver chain he always wore. The pennant was circular with a rainbow pattern covering the entire front of it. The boy had always made Steven's heart skip a beat. He'd had a crush on him for a couple of years, but never had the stones to approach him, let alone talk to him most of the time. Trent definitely smiled as he greeted Mikaela. The two new arrivals got their food as quickly as possible and joined the group. "Hey all," Mikaela said as she sat down. "Hey, you two," The group chorused. "So what's this about?" Daniel wondered. Steven seemed to have something caught in his throat, so Jack gave him a nudge. "Oh, well, um," He began. "Spit it out, Steve." Trent jokingly requested. "Well, here goes. Um, he's gonna hurt me for this, but Jack got shoved out of his spot last night and has nowhere to go. Hating to see a friend in this position, I asked my parents about it. Their answer was 'no'." "Same here." Kylie added. "I guess I kinda got the same idea Steven's got here. Can anyone afford a place for him to crash?" All the members of the group looked at each other. Daniel spoke up. "I've got a futon and a room the size of a rich person's closet. I don't have the interference of the parental units, really. I'm over the garage. And I've got a shower and some clean clothes you might fit into seeing as how that hasn't been available to you for a couple days." He smiled. "You guys, I'm really not looking for a hand out here." Jack spoke up. "But, at least it's better than the alternative. Thanks, Dan." "No prob, man." "What, that's it?" Mikaela wondered. "No, but that's the important stuff." Kylie smiled. "Okay, enough serious shit here. What's up, guys?" Trent changed the subject. "Are we gaming this weekend or what?" "I dunno. Haven't heard either way from Chuck." Steven replied. "I hope it's not more of that 'Aliens Attack' kind of crap again. I'm not really into sci-fi that much." Mikaela responded. "Hate to be the breaker of bad news, here, guys, but Chuck's outta town for a few days. Some business trip or something like that." Daniel relayed the information. "Crap, now what am I going to do with my weekend?" Trent huffed. The group fell silent for a while. A bunch of imaginative minds went to work. "How about we go swimming this weekend?" Kylie finally suggested. "I mean, we haven't done anything like that for a while with the group as a whole. I don't have to work this weekend." "Great idea," Mikaela agreed. "That should be fun. I've been wanting to do that since I got my new bikini last Saturday." The male minds of the group wandered. Steven's mind imagined Daniel in a Speedo or something similar. Jack just seemed unamused. "Yeah, cool. We could jump off the bridge, over the river." Trent suggested. The two girls eyed each other. 'Hmm, a few cute guys, no shirts, jumping into water from way up on a bridge.' Was the collective thought as they both giggled. "I'm in. Not like I have anything else to do this weekend." Jack announced. "Awesome, it's settled then. Swimming, Tom's pier, Saturday good?" Steven asked, piecing it all together. A chorus of approval rang from the group. The date was set. ... Daniel was sitting in a chair with his feet up on the pseudo dining room table, ankles crossed. He was thoroughly engrossed in a book with his eyes whipping across the page as he read. The doorbell rang, he finished the paragraph, and jumped up to answer. As he swung the door open, there stood Jack. He was drenched all over and shivering slightly. In his left hand, he held a medium-sized black duffel bag. This was new to Daniel, but he paid no never mind to it and ushered Jack inside. "Jesus, come in, come in," Daniel uttered with a tone of concern. "Th-thanks." Jack shivered. As Jack entered Daniel began to take off his coat. Jack, in reply to this motion, set down his duffel bag. "When the hell did it start raining?" Daniel asked, rushing the coat to the bathroom. "Ab-bout an hour ago." Jack quivered an answer. "Shit, where were you that you took an hour to get here?" "Across town. I had to pick up my stuff at that house before the cops gathered it for evidence. Amazingly, it was opened and they hadn't taken it." Jack showed off his duffel bag. His teeth chattered slightly. "Guess you can't keep ID in that bag, eh?" "Nope." "What's in it, then?" Daniel made a move for the bag, but Jack swiftly kept it out of arms reach. "No, man, not this bag. It's kinda partial to me." Daniel made a gesture of surrender. "Okay, no need to get hostile. Um, I've got some clothes and a towel in the bathroom for you. Get in there take off those rags and warm up in the water, okay?" Jack simply nodded. The makeshift apartment was well furnished and everything practically matched. The walls were off-white and the carpets were a beige color. The couch in the living room was a very light gray. Daniel was gay too, but not like Steven. Daniel was obviously the masculine half as far as feelings and demeanor went. A few posters of Hollywood stars hung on the walls, some named the sexiest men alive by some magazine or another. Jack made his way into the bathroom, still carrying the duffel bag. The door closed behind him. Daniel returned to his book, but could not focus on it as before. Thoughts of why Jack had protected that duffel bag so ferociously plagued him. He couldn't just drop the subject mentally and move on. 'What's in there that he's so protective of?' he thought. In his mind, Jack was pretty attractive, but definitely not his type. Too boy-ish, really. Knowing he wasn't going to finish his book, Daniel placed it back onto the beige-colored wooden table and headed for the room Jack was to stay in. He examined the guest preparations he had made earlier and became satisfied with the results. Jack emerged from the shower calling out his name. "In here, Jack." Daniel returned. Jack trudged into the room. "Hey, this it?" "Yep, this is your spot." Daniel replied. He pointed to a six-foot tall wooden bookshelf. "You can put anything you want in there - books, CDs, and whatever else." He pointed to a small door inside the room. "There's your closet. Feel free to put whatever in there too." He turned back to his still soaking wet friend, but didn't see the shiver anymore. "Feeling better?" Jack nodded. "Thanks, Daniel. It means a lot." Daniel placed a hand firmly on Jack's shoulder. "Hey, anytime. You can stay here as long as you want. I don't pay rent, so neither should you. If you need it, I'll help you get a job and all that." Jack nodded. "Cool." He trudged over to the bookshelf and placed the mysterious duffel bag on the opposite side of it. Out of sight, out of mind, in a sense. He set his backpack in plain site, next to the bed. "Jack, it's gonna bother me until I ask and I may regret asking, but... We've known each other for a while now, right?" Daniel began. "Yeah, about a year and three months now." Jack noted. "And you know you can tell me anything, right?" Jack nodded. "Yeah, definitely." Daniel now appeared to be begging. "Please tell me what's in the bag, it's gonna kill me if I don't know. I was reading a really damn good book when you rang the doorbell and now I can't get back to it because the mystery is bugging the hell out of me!" A wave of concern and almost utter terror washed over Jack. He didn't know how to respond. He knew that Daniel would not let up, he was somewhat obsessive/compulsive that way. His deepest, darkest secret was contained in that bag and he wasn't sure he wanted to admit to it. Deep within him, he felt a barrier being rammed with a wrecking ball. Finally, he reassured himself that he could trust Daniel with the contents of the bag. "This does not go beyond us." Jack forcefully requested. Daniel was baffled. He looked his friend in the eye, seeing the torment and anguish deep down. "Jack, are you okay?" "I don't know, Dan. You swear?" Daniel simply nodded. "Yeah, but if it's causing you that much grief, I'll let it go." "No, I have to come to grips with it somehow. Who better than you to share a secret like this with, right?" "Yeah, no one but us." Jack nodded. He was shaking to the bone, but he wasn't cold anymore. His nerves flared as he reached the bag and grabbed the top zipper. The wrecking ball was getting through. He quickly opened the bag and sat there with his head down. Daniel eyed his friend and then looked inside the bag. He could see an assortment of garments in cool and warm colors both, but the manufacturers hadn't intended for a man to wear them. A tear welled up in Daniel's eyes as his gaze went back to his friend and he covered his gaping mouth with his left hand. Tears rolled down Jack's cheeks. Much like in Berlin years earlier, a wall in Jack's psyche came crashing down. The ball had broken through. Daniel knelt down beside him, attempting to comfort him. "Hey, that's okay. Plenty of guys are cross-dressers. There's nothing to be ashamed of, really." Daniel reassured him. In somewhat of a fetal position, Jack lay against Daniel's chest. "It's deeper than that, Daniel. Much deeper." Daniel sat Jack up fully and looked into the tear-soaked eyes. "What do you mean deeper? Are you gay, too?" Jack looked down at the duffel bag. "Yes and no." Daniel was completely puzzled. "You like guys or you don't. Do you like girls at all?" Jack turned his attention back to Daniel. "I've had a couple girlfriends, if that's what you mean, but nothing ever came from it. I felt like a freaking lesbian when I was with them." "What are you saying?" Daniel was completely dumbfounded. Lesbian? But Jack was a guy, what could he possibly mean? "Ever since I was, like, six years old, I've known for a concrete fact that I should have been a girl." Jack's eyes conveyed every bit of seriousness that his words did. Daniel tried to piece it together. "So, you like guys, but like a girl likes guys. Am I following you here?" Jack nodded. "Oh, okay. That's what you meant by 'yes and no'. You'd lost me there. And you say this has been going on since you were six?" Jack nodded again. "So what are you, transsexual?" Jack simply shrugged. "I don't know. As far as I'm concerned," he began pulling at a section of skin on his arm, "this flesh is a prison. There's a hard-ass guy on the outside, but a scared girl who wants to come out from the inside, but can't." Daniel just hugged his friend, out of reflex. "Oh, shit. I can't say as though I know exactly what you're going through, but at least it's similar. When you first come out, it's really scary, but it's gonna get better, okay. I'll try my best to get you as much info as possible." "Thanks, Danny," Jack sobbed. ... The two people in the living room laughed. The mood had lightened a bit since Jack had opened up to Daniel and they were getting along fairly well as usual. No more skeletons to contend with. Jack suddenly recalled something. "Have you ever had a daydream or something like that where it freaked you out and you couldn't explain it?" Jack inquired. Daniel shook his head, "Why?" "Well, when Steven found me in that alley the other day, I got this weird daydream kind of thing." Daniel seemed interested, his change in posture telegraphed it. "Go on." "Well, there were these six men, soldiers to be exact, running through a deep forest of some kind. They seemed like they were on a reconnaissance mission or something." Jack began his tale, remembering the events to a "T", but seeming a little fuzzy in translation. "They traveled through the forest over a couple of hills until they came to this clearing." Daniel listened intently, hearing the familiarity of what he was hearing compared to a Tom Clancy novel. "They positioned themselves and then fortified that position with a machine gun, grenades and mortar rounds. They waited in silence as they heard something approach across the clearing." Shaking his head, Jack tried to remember the details. "These floating... humanoid... mercury-like... beings floated in. The soldiers fired on them, but the 'aliens' - I guess - were unharmed by their bullets, protected by some kind of force field. The 'aliens' returned fire with these green energy blasts and killed them all. It was really strange." Daniel sat back, analyzing what he had just heard. "Sounds like an inspiration for a damn good science fiction novel." "But it was so real, as if I were there." Jack shot back. "Okay, you're creeping me out." "No, really. The smell of the charred human remains and burnt foliage burned my nostrils. It really scared the hell out of me." "That's so totally sick, man. Why the hell would you daydream about something like that." Jack shook his head. "Don't ask me!" "You think you're some kind of precog, psychic or something?" "They've never proven the existence of something like that in humans. The Genome Project results won't be out until this summer, for public view, anyway." "Oh, you mean to test the reality of Superman? Gimme a break, you really think the government would shell out dirt like that? The secret of Area 51 conspiracy and all?" "I doubt they'll admit to the possibility or existence of mutants. C'mon this is the US Government!" "Either way, that's a really fucked up dream." "You're telling me." ... Mikaela honked the horn a second time. She'd been sitting in the street for ten minutes and she didn't feel the need to get wet while going in to fetch Daniel. They had a meeting and he was late. Finally, she spotted him practically jump down the stairs next to the meager apartment over his parents' garage. He bolted for the passenger side door and climbed in. "What took you so long?" She demanded. "Oh, just talking with Jack. He's a hell of a chatter box." Daniel replied. "Not being around civilized humans too often can do that to you. Ready to hit the clubs?" Daniel excitedly nodded. "Definitely! I'm on the hunt for a fine piece o' meat!" Mikaela giggled. "Ditto!" The blue Camero sped away. The drive to St. Louis would take them an hour and a half. Almost too much "sitting time" for the two wild children. Mikaela put on some music to set the mood, but Daniel seemed detached. 'No, no, no! You can't tell her! You promised him,' Daniel thought, arguing with himself. "What's got your panties in a twist?" Mikaela wondered. "Nothing, really." Daniel replied, lying through his teeth. "Bullshit, Daniel, what's up?" She turned off the music as she got on the freeway. She never turned off the music while she drove. The girl meant business. Daniel seemed uneasy. Hiding his emotions or what he thought was not his strong suit. He was shaking nervously now. "You... uh... know... anything about transsexuals." She took a double take. "What?" She attempted to ascertain what he was getting at. "Why do you wanna know?" He shrugged. "I dunno. Just wanted to get the 411 for a friend of mine." "Daniel, I know all your friends, they're my friends too. What-is-the-problem?!" "I can't say, he made me promise." She sneered. "Well, what do you want to know?" "The basics, I guess." "Well, they take hormones for a while, they... eventually get a surgery that costs a butt load, and they seem like okay people. Pretty depressed before the all the 'good stuff' happens. Who is it?" She knew she could weasel a name out of him somehow. He spoke under his breath, "...Jack..." "'Ack...'?? Hairball caught or something?" She used another on ramp heading onto I-70 West. He sighed, unable to keep the secret. "It's Jack, okay? He's super bummed out and he told me, then he needed info. Happy?" Her eyes nearly bulged out of her head and her mouth dropped open. "Oh my God..." She could hardly believe her ears. 'Jack, the rough-and-tumble homeless guy?' She thought. 'No, he's pullin' your leg, girl.' "You're serious, right? We're talking about the same Jack Diangelo, right?" "Yes, the VERY same Jack Diangelo." Her usual speed-demon habits had reduced to "grandma driving." She looked at the road ahead, completely dumbfounded. "Wow, that's... unexpected." "What d'you mean, 'unexpected'?" "I mean, come on, the guy's a total hard-ass on the streets. When did you find out?" "Last night, he came over and brought this black duffel bag that I'd never seen before," Daniel began. "Black duffel bag? I've never seen him with anything but that backpack he's always got on him." "Yes, I know, so I asked him about it. He was a little hostile to begin with, but - you know me, the persistent one - I couldn't concentrate until I found out what he was hiding. We've never had secrets, y'know?" "That's a pretty damn big secret." She recalled the kinds of things she'd seen Jack do. He always got along with her, Daniel, Kylie and Steven, but was always reserved around Trent. He never once gawked at either of the girls like Trent would do, constantly. He, also, would always be complimenting outfits that either she or Kylie had picked up days before he saw them in the outfit, but never with that "Hey, I want to date you" kind of way. Then it snapped, there was no surprise anymore. "He is a girl..." It was Daniel's turn to be caught off guard. "Huh?" She smirked, "Watch him on Saturday, you'll see what I mean. For now, we're gonna get some action!" With that, she continued with her speed-demon driving. Chapter 3: Split Infinity Mikaela pulled up into Kylie's driveway. In her baby blue tank top, white shorts, and sandals, she was ready for a day in cool waters. She strode up to the door, pressing a button on her keychain remote to lock up the car and turn on the alarm, all at once. She pressed the doorbell. A middle-aged man opened the door. "Oh, hello Mikaela. Kylie's upstairs finishing up. Why don't you head up and wait for her?" The man greeted her. "Thanks Mr. Moss." She replied sweetly. He opened the door further, stepping to the side to allow her entrance. Mikaela bounced up the stairs with an exciting subject on her mind. She rounded the top of the banister and headed straight across the hall to Kylie's room. She placed her hand on the knob and knocked the melody to "Shave and a Haircut" on the wood. "Come on in, Mik," Kylie invited from the inside. She turned the knob and let herself into the room. Kylie moved from beside her bed to the bathroom. She wore a white T-shirt, jean shorts, and little white casuals. Mikaela sat on the bed and crossed her legs. Noticing a mirror on the bed, she checked her look. 'Flawless as usual,' she mentally reminded herself. "You're here early. What's up?" Kylie inquired, putting in the last earring. Mikaela put down the mirror and looked up at Kylie with a large grin on her face. "You're freaking me out, what?" Kylie demanded, puzzled at her friend's unusual "super-perky-ness". "You'd better sit down for this." Mikaela warned. Done with the earring, she sat on the bed, looking at her friend with a confused expression. "Okay... what?" Mikaela had suddenly lost her gumption. "No, no, I can't." Kylie fumed. "You got my undivided attention and you're wussing out on me?" "You ever met a transsexual?" "What kind of a question is that?" "Just small talk. Have you?" "I dunno, hard to tell." "Well, Daniel told me that Jack told him that he's transsexual." Kylie felt like she'd been socked by a Heavy Weight boxer. "Slow down, there, Speedy Gonzales. What was that?" "Jack's a girl, Kylie. At least, in mind anyway." Kylie stood up. "And this was news, when?" "Thursday, I think." "I reiterate, and this was news, when?" She went into the bathroom again to finish her make-up. "What, you knew?" She stood up and followed Kylie into the bathroom. "You know any other 'guy' that comments on a girl's outfit or perfume just days after they get it, no matter how dressed down it is?" "No." She blinked at her mega blonde moment. "I figured it out, though, when Daniel told me." "Mik, if you were any slower, the tortoise would really win by a mile." Kylie smirked. "I keep telling you that you should dye your hair blonde." Mikaela playfully slapped her. "Be nice, you!" The two girls giggled. ... At the riverfront, the "guys" were stripping down to their swimwear. Trent had the token Speedo, the rest were in trunks. Jack had an old pair of jeans converted into shorts, sandals and a T-shirt. He was feeling completely uncomfortable, especially around the show-off, Trent. "Trent, if you were gay, I'd be all over you by now." Steven joked. All the guys joined in the laughter. "Should I be flattered?" Trent asked, also jokingly. Daniel's eyes widened, showing approval. "Yes!" More laughs. "So, Jack, when're you taking off your shirt?" Trent asked. Both Jack and Daniel froze simultaneously. "Um..." Jack searched for words. "...cheap washing machine, man." He quietly sighed to himself. Steven noticed the out of the ordinary motions that Jack and Daniel used. "Something wrong, you two?" "No, why?" Daniel replied, caught off guard. Steven shrugged. "No biggie." A familiar sound of music came within earshot. The sound of bass rattling the metal and glass of a Camero could only be Mikaela and Kylie. Trent smiled, "Girls are here." 'The rest of them, anyway,' Daniel thought. All of them turned around and watched as the Camero came up the little dirt road and parked behind Trent's Jeep. Only Trent watched with enthusiasm as they got out and stripped down to their bathing suits. Kylie had a green halter-top and "boy shorts" ensemble while Mikaela had a standard purple bikini. "Gotta like that," Trent watched in awe. "Yeah," the other three sighed, unenthusiastically. They all met at a picnic table near the water where fisherman would frequent. Towels and shoes were strung over the top of the table. Mikaela had dragged her stereo along, so she popped in a few CDs and cranked the volume. "So, who's jumpin' first?" Trent inquired the rest. "I dunno about this, man. Isn't this illegal?" Steven wondered. "Oh, come on! Only if you get caught!" Trent joked. "Yeah, slap on the wrist and community service kind of thing," Jack spoke up, finally. He seemed unusually quiet. "Something bothering you, man?" Trent asked, concerned. Jack shook his head, "No, why?" Trent shrugged, "No reason." "You guys go on ahead. Kylie and I have to talk with Jack about something," Mikaela announced. "Uh-oh, let's go, guys," Steven suggested. The other three left to trudge in the grass up to the bridge. Mikaela put her hands on a confused Jack's shoulders and gently urged him to sit down. Kylie sat across from him as Mikaela situated herself on the table - legs crossed, right arm supporting her. Jack's eyes darted between the two girls. He felt as if he might be in a police interrogation room. "What's this about?" Jack wondered. "Is there something you would like to tell us, Jack?" Mikaela asked as sweet and sincere as she could. "We're your friends and if there's anything bothering you, you can tell us." Kylie added. "What the fuck is going on here?" Jack sputtered like a trapped rabbit. Kylie got up and moved around the table, sitting on the opposite side of him from Mikaela. She put her hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to feel threatened." She blinked at feeling his shoulder vibrating. "Shit, are you cold?" "No." He spoke softly. Mikaela sighed, almost annoyed, but more concerned. "Look, Daniel spilled the beans." Kylie glared at her, "Don't put it so harshly. If you hadn't pressured him, he wouldn't have said anything." Jack put his head in his hands, shaking a little more now. "What did he tell you?" Trent called something incoherent from the bridge as all three guys plummeted into the water below the bridge. "Listen, Jack, it's not like it's a big surprise or anything," Kylie tried to comfort him. "Speak for yourself," Mikaela protested. "Jack, all I'm saying is that you try to be inconspicuous, but the truth is still there," Kylie noted, putting her hand in the region of his heart. Jack's head sank, his hands sliding over the crown of his head onto his upper back. "My life is over," he muttered softly. His tone warranted the production of tears. "No, it's not, Jack! This could be a new beginning for you," Mikaela tried to reassure him. "She's right, Jack. You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are." Kylie added. Jack raised his head and looked at both the girls. Tears rolled down his cheek and he looked almost angry and completely frightened all at once. "You didn't grow up where I did. Where they called you 'fagot' and beat the shit out of you, day in and day out! My life has been hell because of this and it's only going to get worse!" Kylie grabbed Jack's chin and made him look into her eyes, making him see the sincerity. "This isn't somewhere in Butt Fucked, Washington, this is Granger, Kentucky, and we're your friends who are going to help you, okay?" He put his head back into his hands and his tears continued to flow. Just then, the guys came up to the table, dripping wet. "Hey, what's with him?" Trent pondered. Kylie glared at him and gave him a 'Don't go there!' motion. Mikaela shook her head with a look of 'Just don't.' Daniel's heart sank as it did in the apartment two nights before. Steven looked in disbelief at what was happening. "Okay, I'm going back to the bridge now," Trent announced, walking off. Daniel followed, even though he didn't want to. Steven stayed behind. The two guys walked along the small grain gravel along the footpath on the bridge, their feet leaving wet, dirty footprints. Trent stopped just before mounting and leaned against the railing along side the bridge, watching for police. "So, what's eating Jack?" He pondered. "Don't ask, man. You probably don't wanna know." Daniel answered, mounting the rail. "Sure I do, he's my friend," Trent implied. "No, you don't." Trent nodded violently. "Yeah, I do. What's up with him? Did he just find out he's gay?" "That's not something you 'just find out', believe me. You just admit that. Same basic principle as what's eating at Jack." He could have put a knife through Jack's back just then. He smacked himself, mentally. "What? You mean he IS gay?" "Yes... and... no..." Daniel shoved off and fell to the water before saying anymore. "Awe, dude, don't leave me hangin'!" Trent hopped the railing rather athletically after Daniel. After they both broke the surface and began swimming to shore, Trent asked, "So what's the deal?" "I should learn to keep my big mouth, shut. That's what." Trent couldn't take the voyeurism anymore. Once he reached the shore, he tromped through the grass directly towards the picnic table. His face was that of a concerned friend. Daniel hopped out of the water and paced after him. The four in the booth let out a laugh, Jack's first one since being "confronted". Trent came in under the canopy and sat next to Steven, opposite Kylie. Jack looked like he was crying. Trent was suddenly aware of the severity of the situation. "Okay, the taboo shit should really stop, guys. What's the deal, Jack? You all right, man?" Jack nodded. "I am now." "Man isn't exactly the word I'd be looking for." Mikaela chuckled. Everyone except Trent joined in. He looked completely oblivious and confused. "What's that supposed to mean?" Trent wondered. Then something clicked. Words echoed in his mind. 'Man isn't exactly the word I'd be looking for...' What? 'You mean he IS gay? Yes and no...' Trent tried to connect it all. 'What are they all talking about?' he thought. Daniel sighed. "He looks absolutely perplexed, Jack. Could you please fill him in?" Jack shook his head. "Mik... Kylie..." He motioned to Trent. He could not find the words to inform the most "macho" guy of the group about the most current event. "Jack's transsexual, Trent." Kylie put it as lightly as she could muster. Trent's eyes met Jack's. Jack froze, uncertain of the response. "What? You want to be a girl or something?" Jack almost answered, but Mikaela intervened. "He is a girl, Trent." "Tough guy, Jack? You sure?" A million questions raced through his mind. His heart did the talking for a moment. "Not that I care, really. I'm not trying to sound heartless or anything, Jack. You're my friend. I mean, when Steven and Daniel came out, did I run off? No, I support my friends." More tears welled up in Jack's eyes. Happy tears. "Thanks, Trent." His voice cracked a little with the rush of emotion. "So... what d'we gotta do? I mean, how do we help?" Sirens could be heard, Jack froze. He listened with intensity, trying to discover where it was coming from and how fast. The others turned their heads, attempting the same. Steven returned his eyes to Jack. "It's probably just a speeding ticket," He tried to comfort the resident fugitive. No comforting was going to help. Six vehicles sped onto the gravel road leading to the waterfront. Two were Granger City Police, the rest were blue Suburbans with yellow stars on the front doors. That only meant one thing, Federal Marshalls. "Hey, remember when you asked what you could do to help?" Jack reminded Trent, rushing the sentence. Trent nodded in response and the rest jumped up shouting, "Run!" All six companions ran up to their only perceived exit, the bridge. They all ran up the grass. As they reached a sidewalk on the top, they bolted towards the jumping spot on the bridge - not intending to jump, but keeping it as a last resort. On the end of the bridge in front of them, two police vehicles formed a barricade. All of them stopped in the middle of the bridge, looked to the other side of the bridge, another barricade was formed. No exits but one remained. "Look, if we can get off the bridge and over to the jet skis docked over near the marina, we might get him away towards the Mississippi River." Trent suggested. "Stop right there, kids. No where else to go. Just surrender quietly and no one will get hurt," a uniformed officer announced through a bullhorn. "C'mon, guys, what'll it be?" Trent asked, more urgently. They all nodded and mounted the rail. The uniforms went into action, running toward them. The seriousness of the situation had gripped them all. They shook nervously, dangerously over the water. "One... two... three!" Daniel shouted in a hurried tone. All six jumped simultaneously. ... Jack landed on Daniel. All six bodies lay rather limp on a hard surface, much to their surprise. Jack opened his eyes and saw hardly anything but a blurred image. However, one thing remained, the dreaded red and blue lights. "What the fuck was that?" Trent groaned. "My leg," answered Mikaela, grunting. Trent immediately rolled off of her. Feeling the body beneath him, Jack did the same. Everyone felt groggy and in pain. As everyone began to move to stand, the sound of tires screeching on dry pavement was heard. From the sounds of it, several vehicles just quickly rounded a corner or came to a stop. "Okay, this is officially on the Very Weird Things meter," Daniel groaned. "What on Earth was that?" Kylie wondered. Everyone's eyes were unable to focus. The scene around them looked completely blurry, but was not the scene they were just in. "Why does the ground feel like concrete? It was only twenty feet to the water." Steven noticed. Several rounds were chambered not far from their current location. Everyone was up and alert. Trent and Daniel protected the rest behind them, acting as a shield. Not a very good shield, though. "Throw down your weapons and put your hands in the air!" A very unfamiliar voice shouted over a bullhorn. "Guys, do we have weapons?" Trent inquired. Jack felt a butterfly knife in his left hip pocket that he kept for protection against any random foe. Habit from being on the streets. "I do, but I doubt they'd know that." "I repeat, throw down your weapons and put your hands in the air!" The voice bellowed again. "Better do what he says. I can't see well enough to do anything about it." Twelve hands went into the air. "Now, put them behind your head and kneel on the ground!" The six teenagers followed instructions. They heard the pounding of boots and rattling of equipment approach them quickly. Suddenly, it stopped. One single person approached the group. He stopped just in front of Trent, who was tempted to jump up and beat the person within an inch of their lives but kept his composure. He was practically naked and, if these were police, what was he going to do to this person through the bulletproof vest? The person's boots squeaked as though they were turning away from the group. "Uh, Cap', you wanna come see this?" Another person's footsteps, lighter this time, came from the general direction the group figured the vehicles had stopped. The footsteps stopped next to the individual directly in front of Trent. Trent was beginning to make out shapes and colors now. From what he saw, a man in a brown suit and a uniformed SWAT team member were in front of him. The SWAT guy was kneeling in front of them and the suited man stood just over his shoulder. "What the hell?" Came a response from the guy in the suit. "These aren't the men we've been after, these are teenagers in swimsuits!" "With all do respect, Captain, that's kind of obvious." The SWAT member stated. A light shined in Trent's eyes. "What's your name, son?" "Trent, Trent Patterson." He was cooperating. "What are you doing in an alley in the middle of the night, Mr. Patterson?" "I don't know, officer. I honestly could not tell you." The light moved to Daniel's eyes, which squinted in reply. "What's your name, son?" "Daniel Page, Officer." He picked up the prompt from Trent. "Can you answer my question, Daniel?" "No, sir. Same problem." The SWAT member performed the same routine with the other four. He got basically the same response. As their eyes cleared up, the teens could see the SWAT member move to approach the Captain. He turned to face the group. "Any of you have any ID on you?" "I do, but I think I'm the only one." Jack spoke up. "Let me see it, son." The captain finally spoke. Jack reached into his right hip pocket and pulled out his wallet, showcasing it over Trent's head. The SWAT member grabbed it and handed it to the captain. "What are you doing in New York, Mr. Diangelo?" "New York?!" Jack stood. Four SWAT members trained their weapons on him, but the one speaking to the captain motioned them to stand down. The captain sighed. "Take 'em in for questioning." He folded Jack's wallet back up and handed it to the SWAT member. "Cuff 'em lightly. They're reasonably cooperating." Six uniformed police put handcuffs on each teen and escorted them to patrol cars. Trent, Daniel and Jack were placed in one car while Mikaela, Kylie, and Steven were placed in another. In the first car, shielded from the ears of the officer driving by a plate of glass, Trent spoke up. "Can anyone see, yet?" Came his query. "Yeah, a little." Jack stated. "Not quite there." Daniel reported. "Shit, we're going into a precinct. Jack, they're gonna find your warrant and keep you." Trent sighed. "I dunno about that. That detective or whatever asked what we were doing in New York. I'd assume that he meant New York City, probably not state." Jack conjectured. "Either way, we ain't in Kansas anymore, Toto." Daniel gave a hint of comic relief. "Where the hell did that come from?" Trent wondered. "Okay, we were in Kentucky, diving into a river, right?" Daniel paused for response. He was met with agreeing statements. He went on. "Next thing we know, we're lying on cement being forced to our knees by cops with a shit load of guns. Then, they tell us to put down our weapons. They've got us mixed up with someone else. But the fact still remains, Kentucky one minute, New York City the next." "That is pretty weird. Think we'll get a good response with that story?" Trent asked, not quite sincerely. "No, I doubt it! They'll really lock us up in a loony bin!" Jack was unamused. The rest of the trip went on silently. Once they arrived at the precinct, they were all ushered into a holding cell. Trent, Steve, Jack, and Daniel were stowed in the men's section. Minutes passed that seemed like hours. An eternity later, a uniformed officer approached the cell, unlocking it. "The captain would like to speak with you all upstairs," He announced. The four 'guys' trudged through the bars on a cold, cement floor. Jack, being the only one in footwear, was not fazed by the cold. They trudged up a flight of stairs and were led to an interrogation room by another uniformed officer. When they reached the room, Mikaela and Kylie waited for them. They ran up and hugged all of the 'boys' in what looked like bathrobes and slippers. Moments later, two officers came in with robes and slippers for the 'boys' that needed them. All six sat down at the table. "Anyone have a clue what's going on?" Kylie wondered. "Not really." Daniel replied. "I'm starting to form an idea, but it's a little far fetched, if you catch my drift." Jack announced. "Hey, just go ahead and share. This couldn't possibly get any weirder." Trent admitted. "Well, ever heard of the Dimensional Flux Theory?" Everyone shook their heads. "Well, it kinda goes a little like this," he took up a piece of paper, "imagine this is Earth. Put it in a copy machine and you have two practically identical sheets of paper, right?" Now they were nodding. "Hold your hand on the copy machine and empty the paper storage. You have an innumerable amount of nearly identical sheets of paper. Punch a hole in one, you can write on another sheet of paper." "Whoa, whoa, hold up!" Trent interrupted. "You're saying we basically punched a hole in our sheet of paper, now we're writing on the next one?" "Pretty much, yea." Jack nodded. "Dimensional 'Hopping' is basically the same thing. Punch a hole in the space-time continuum and you end up in another dimension." "Sounds like a bad episode of Sliders to me." Daniel commented. "Yeah, but we don't have that little remote control thingy to have a chance of getting back home with." Mikaela stated the obvious. "I think this one could be nominated for an Emmy, myself." Steven joked. "Wait, We're in another dimension?" Trent interrupted, again. "That's crazy!" The door opened and the captain entered, carrying a stack of papers. "Not necessarily, Mr. Patterson, if that is your real name." He commented, only hearing the last of what Trent had said. He slammed the stack onto the table, making the teens jump. "Mr. Diangelo?" "Yes," Jack responded. "Where did you get that ID?" The captain inquired. "In Washington, where it says I'm from." "Don't lie to me, son. The State of Washington has never heard of you. I'll ask again, where did you get the ID?" A serge of hope erupted in him--perhaps his warrant no longer existed either. "That's the honest truth, sir." Jack sounded pleading. The captain sighed, rubbing his temples. Apparently, he was getting a migraine. He had always been a skeptic on the idea of the 'Dimensional Flux Theory'. He nodded to the mirrored wall. This was the first chance any of them had gotten to get a good look at this man. He was a bit tall and a little heavy set. Trent thought the man reminded him of John Goodman. He was middle-aged and his dark hair was graying. He slowly sat down at the front of the table, facing the teens but with his back to the wall/mirror. "Look, I want to get this sorted out as soon as possible. With your cooperation, we could get this over with." He stated. Another man in a suit entered the room, but without his jacket. He was holding a few more pieces of paperwork. "Uh, sir?" The captain turned. "Yes, lieutenant?" "The results from the temporal reading at the scene. They detected a small anomaly, sir." the lieutenant reported. "Thank you, lieutenant." He took the papers and gave them a quick look-over. He forcefully put the papers down and got up. "Ah, shit!" He turned his attention to the teens. "Sorry, kids, but when we found you, we had three dangerous felons in our grasp. Apparently, they slipped through this anomaly and you replaced them." "So, Jack was right?" Steven pondered. "Yes, almost exactly right." The captain answered. Jack shrugged. "What else is there to do when you have no house and no electricity but need entertainment? You read a lot." The group nodded. "So, the question stands: What do we do with six unintentional Dimension Hoppers?" The captain looked at the six teens, asking himself the same question. The entire group pondered the question. "Maybe we should start by getting a 411 on what this dimension can offer us?" Mikaela suggested. The captain looked puzzled. "4-1-1?" "Information, sir." Trent informed. ... Six hours had passed while the captain relayed as much information as he could muster between the thousands of questions that the teens had. In this dimension they had quite literally fallen into, technology had advanced far beyond that of their home. Cybernetics, mechanical prosthetics, existed and were available to the general population. Magic existed only as arcane knowledge and, even so, just alchemy - basically science. Paranormal beings, such as those the teens recognized as Superman, Spider Man, The Hulk, and countless others, were a common occurrence and regulated by the federal government. Man had colonized the moon, but that was restricted to maximum- security penal colonies. A manned mission to Mars was in the works and likely to launch sometime during the fall. The Human Genome Project, as Jack had described it as, was completed and the discovery of the McAllister Series was implemented to identify paranormals. A simple serum that reconstructed a person's DNA was available to the public for the purpose of curing genetic diseases and similar ailments. When the lecture was complete, the captain sat back down. "So, basically, what you're saying is that there's a serum that goes into your system and reprograms all of your DNA?" Jack inquired. "Yes, for example, if you were born with three legs the serum would go in and basically delete the program that told your body to produce three legs. Conjoined twins can be helped by the same method, as can Cancer sufferers." The captain answered. "Dude, that's creepy," Trent shuttered. "Cybernetics, like a pair of new arms? Why not use the serum for that?" Daniel pondered. "Because the serum reconstructs your DNA. If you were born without any arms, the serum could fix that, but if you lost your arms during a war, the serum would not be beneficial. Understand now?" The captain lectured. "Magic only exists as Alchemy? Isn't that like a science, like chemistry?" Kylie asked. "I already pointed out that it was arcane knowledge, lost to the human race thousands of years ago. The closest thing we have to it is alchemy." The captain corrected. He seemed to be growing annoyed with the constant questions. He was not a teacher, by any means. He was merely a detective and nothing else. "So, where do we fit into all of this?" Steven wondered. "I mean, we basically don't exist. Can we exist?" The captain was relieved to hear a question relevant to police work. "We can run some tests. You'll be in a nearby medical facility for a few days during the tes