Skin Deep III - Chapter 9 - As I Was Going Up The Stair free porn video

Chapter 9 As I Was Going Up The Stair, I Met A Man That Wasn't There, He Wasn't There Again Today, I Wish, I Wish, He'd Go Away The Breech Of The Cannon When the international news broke that the planet was under attack from an unseen warrior, the story was only at first, covered lightly. What, after all were a few deaths in a distant country, and one that most around the globe mistrusted to begin with. Further, the news of deaths had become common place since the disastrous Nor'easter had converged on the northeast from Canada and the Atlantic. The news that allegations that the Federal States had had in its possession for over two hundred years, a technology it had successfully denied having was much bigger news and that monster would not be stopped. This was compounded by the idea that one of the worlds largest and best loved, reluctant starlets had been at the center of the controversy since the very beginning. In France, the only three members of the Shipley Family left untouched watched with horror as their parents were paraded about, prisoners, in the midst of a media spectacle. They mourned, believing their parents were lost to the cruelties of a barbaric country with even more barbaric people. When the WR transmissions stopped feeding to the Wave, the trial was just beginning. After that no news was available. The world had begun its death throws in earnest. Stations played songs in tribute of the return miracle entertainer, even though all anyone had seen was a man that closely resembled her one time husband, two masked women and two men no one was really familiar with. The encounter with public video eyes had been brief. It had been enough however to stop the world in its tracks and watch as the events unfolded. Songs such as "Slowin' Down", Itchatucnee Drift and "Somebody Save Me". They played the songs from a long past that had not yet died from memory, even for those that had not yet existed when these songs had been recorded. The focus was not where the Government wanted it, but it would do. It was enough of a distraction as to afford them to address a newer problem, a bigger problem. The Federal Government was not silent on the issue of SKINs. Mock calls for investigations to be conducted by impartial special investigators began loud and strong from Capital Hill. They wanted to look into the possibility that factions of the government had enacted, developed and supported such a program without the knowledge of the President. Outraged politicians broadcast from the safety of protected bunkers about how they had been left high and dry as unnamed organizations within the government had adopted covert technologies, the use of which would be fully sought. Each were pontificating against the background of an office backdrop, or the backdrop of the Capitol building. But Washington was empty! Its leaders, those that had gotten out before the plague had taken the city were long gone, safely stashed away deep inside mountain side vaults in Colorado and New Mexico. These were nothing more than smoke screens, each designed to buy time. This was far better than facing or answering questions about something else that was lurking out there killing everyone it came in contact with. In the grand scheme of things, even the politicians understood that if this spread beyond sunset, they would probably never have time to worry about their integrity in the global community ever again. Even Loudon, their most trusted agent (until recently) had not been given the full scope of what had happened in New York and the swath of death that had taken place afterward in Pennsylvania. Most of that state, in fact, was dead. No body counts were available to the politicians because there were no bodies left. It was going to take a house to house search to determine who no longer existed. There was no time for that now. The storm had provided cover for the outbreak, but it had also aided in its spread. Rivers and estuaries from Ohio, New York, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Kentucky, Virginia and Maryland were overflowing with waste water from the countless dead. It was moving steadily southward through the Mississippi Valley and the Ohio and Mississippi rivers. In an attempt to prevent the news from slipping away, outgoing wave transmissions were blocked as the madness spread. Only incoming waves, known as receivables, which could not be blocked once they were part of the global wave ring were found for reception. The cause of this was once again blamed on the storms that had rocked the country. This excuse also began to fall apart as the storms themselves began to break up and move out under the tremendous winds left in their violent wake as the front began to move again. Now the wind that had prevented The Vulture from penetrating the surface streets of the city would be the same wind that struck the final blow of the executioners axe as it crashed down on Rouston. As they watched what was unfolding in Rouston, as the final shotgun blast that would send the deadly disease out on currents of air like grape shot from a Gettysburg cannon, out over the landscape and into the world. The cannon's below the streets were loaded and the fuse stuffed into the breech, ready to be lit. Below the Rouston government complex lay its ordinance. This was the dead body of a man who had been infected as a bi-stander to a HOV accident, the driver of which had a much different version of the illness when he succumbed to it flying from a hospital visit to a friend one bright April afternoon. The Boogeyman had been the only survivor of the quarantine that followed. The reason for his resistance had been unknown by doctors at the time. This had been enough for hopes of a cure and all efforts were made to keep the man alive. They couldn't have known at the time that they were unintentionally breeding a much stronger version of the viral-bacterium. A version that would not be stopped in its deadly work should it get out. The body of the Boogeyman lay feet below the surface streets of the complex, the canister to the last cannon ever fired in Pennsylvania so-to-speak. With death had come a putrid rapid decay. Decay however, was not complete. Even dead, his cells held a strange resistance to the hemorrhagic powers of the disease. It would not take much however to break them open and spill their contents into the world. No one knew he was there as the crowd marched only feet above him, the steady downdrafts keeping death in its barrel for the moment, off the streets above. They could not know that the pathetic body of a man, once a father to a long dead and forgotten daughter, husband and son now lay face down in a shallow puddle of death infected water. His madness was mercifully concluded. If not at peace, he was at the very least at rest and free of the prison he had been forced to cope with for forty years by doctors and finally agents that had no interest in who he was, but simply what he was. The vertical column of air blasted out of the sky on to everything else in the air and on the ground. For the time this seemed to only add drama to the moment as Judge Perry and party was on approach to the rooftop landing pad of the Government Complex building. It also almost ended one of the two sagas playing out before the world prematurely ending the only cover left for the remaining bureaucrats. In flight, the DNA sample from the young man Shipley claimed to be his son-in-law was confirmed to be so, and that of three other men, all but one, a Dennis Simon of Pairs, France, were presumed to be deceased. Only minor differences in select DNA patterning had masked the overall relationship to the files on record. DNA samples of the women also proved the claimed identities of Shipley. One of the women's identities, that of one Elicia Pradota, came back as have been deceased a full four years before any record of Michelle Shipley, Michelle Donovan or anyone of the other identities connected with the DNA sample of the mysterious black masked woman Shipley was claiming was his wife. Most of the information that came back was usual and customary, common mortality and other post life statistics that would be expected with the end of a life. CitReg combinations, ages at date of death, place of death or disappearance, nothing that would now confirm or deny Shipley's claim that his wife was in fact Mike Vello. Still the evidence was overwhelming and in Shipley's favor. Nothing however could be done until Federal contacts could be made. It was Houston's impression that the Capitol would have little or nothing to say as to the nefarious reputations that the man named Loudon was claiming. The whole world was watching. That had first happened in Chicago in 1968. The protests outside the 1968 Democratic National Convention, had ended badly for the police. The citizens of the world watched and learned how governments, even the best of them lied when they felt they weren't being they had much to lose. They could not afford to confirm their connection to Shipley. Nor could they deny his existence now. Judge Perry was certain that there would be more than a few officials that would die in their sleep tonight over this debacle. Houston wondered who or how many it might turn out to be when the HOV they were in suddenly plummeted 400 feet in 2.4 seconds, driven from the sky by the angry wind. WOOP, WOOP, Sounded the alarms of the onboard Terrain and Collision Avoidance System or (TCAS). "WINDSHEAR, PULL UP! WINDSHEAR, PULL UP!" Brad Loudon was thrown to the floor of the transport on flight recovery. For a moment he had been suspended in space, free falling as the seat he had been sitting on vanished beneath him. The other's had all looked so comical for a moment from his vantage point that Loudon had almost broken out in hysterical laughter. Then the pilot had righted the ship and the floor had met him squarely on the face. He collapsed in a heap on the deck. Just because he was a healthy Halfling, didn't mean he didn't feel pain. The blow broke his nose and two teeth. With his arms restrained, hands behind his back, the landing badly twisted the C1, C2 and C3 vertebrae at the base of his neck when the rest of his body followed his face into the deck. It wouldn't have killed him if it had broken his neck, but it would have taken years for his spinal cord to mend enough to simply walk again. Fortunately for Loudon, that didn't happen. The world swam and the shouts and screams from the terrified passengers shifted to some other world, one far away and heard only from the greatest distance. The jolt of fire that flew down his spine was enough to make him wet himself, but he didn't feel his bladder release. He had no need now for the world he had just left. He had invented independent space travel and was light years from the place where his body had landed. Soon there were hands on him, hoisting painfully back to the seat where he had only seconds before been sitting. He was bleeding from his nose, mouth and one ear. One tooth fell to the deck of the HOV and the other was ingested as he inhaled at his sudden return to the world of reality and pain. "Jumping Jesus," Gene cried out at first glance, "We have to get this boy to a fucking hospital." "No," Loudon gurgled, "No hospitals..." he knew what they would find. It would be the last key of evidence of complicity of his employers. No one must found out he was one of them. Most importantly, the Shipley's must never find out. What kind of case would that give them? Besides, they would all figure it out soon enough as the bruises that must already be rising on his skin began to fade almost as quickly. Loudon was surprise when it was Shelly that unclasp her belt and knelt before the man and gently dabbed the blood away. No one said a word, but Bradley could see that no one, especially the woman's young father, approved of the care his daughter offered. Loudon was as perplexed as he had ever been. 'Why?' was the only thought his mind could formulate. He had been prepared to kill them all and their youngest, the meat in the trap, was at his feet, doing her best to care for his wounds. "He's missing a few teeth, a broken nose-" Shelly then found the man's hand and wrist were swollen. "Careful-" Loudon winced as Shelly tried to examine it. "His wrist is broken too. You have shut this cuff down," As the craft settled on the roof of the building where the courthouse was housed, Simpson looked at Perry who nodded in agreement. "If he'd broken his neck, he'd be dead, especially after they way you yanked him back up," Shelly turned a stern eye to Marshall. "He needs to go to a hospital," Now he though he could see her plot, "You want to escape. No hospitals!" "No, there's no way we could possibly escape now. We've been seen, identified, you made sure of that. Now the whole world knows, we will never have peace again." It was the saddest thing Houston Perry could remember hearing. "We weren't a threat to you or anyone else," Shelly said as she paid attention to his wounds. "What happened was an accident, long ago. It took a long time for all of us to reconcile ourselves that we were all stuck with it, but we did. When we did, all we wanted was to be a family. We couldn't even do that. How could we have been a threat to your dirty little secret when we were helping you keep it hidden?" Loudon said nothing. He felt foolish, more than foolish, he felt as a village idiot might with the towns people standing around him, chiding him for nothing more than looking stupid. It couldn't be. Everything he was told, everything he had learned, all the files, the history... They were hiding from The Agency, they always had been. Perhaps, because we had always been chasing them... "Bullshit," Loudon spat. A fine spray of blood peppered Shelly's face. Gary was off his own seat, his fist balled and cocked, ready to slam into Loudon's face when Shelly turned and said, "No Daddy," Shelly reached up and gently put his hand back down by his side, but Gary refused to un-ball it. Gary was beside himself with anger, "Why not? Doesn't he deserve it? I've been too gentle for too long. I'm done cowering from this son- of-bitch and his army of bastards." Gary leaned in again and Shelly gently pushed his hips backward. He took two stumbling steps back as the ship settled on the roof of the government complex. "I don't understand Shell. Look at what he's done to us, to your mother and sister..." "How can you not understand? You taught it to us all our lives. We taught it to our children. No matter what they do to us, we will always be us. They can't take that, not ever. We will never be free if we give them a reason to hate us, not ever." 'Funny, I don't remember saying that.' Gary sat dumbfounded as Shelly returned to her task. She paused for a moment and looked into Loudon's stone grey eyes, "We wouldn't have said anything," then continued to clean his wounds. There was nothing but truth in the woman's eyes and for the first time in his life, true betrayal crept into his thoughts. But his thoughts turned back on themselves, his opportunity of truth was gone. There is no way that all of them, his mentors could have been wrong. No way! They were the Federal States, these men and women he worked for were the People of the People, by the People and for the fucking People by fuck's sake. A woman wiping his cuts clean didn't change that by God. "Get off me," he growled at her and shoved her away. The sudden metallic click of a scatter gun, its muzzle pressed to the side of his head was all that kept him from kicking her out of the HOV hatchway. That will take a lot longer than a broken neck to heal, he thought to himself. "I'm surprised at you sonny boy," Gene growled back, "The woman was only trying to help-" "-Her parent's escape" Loudon charged back angrily. The silence, even in the high wind, was deafening. Loudon's entire world collapsed. He had done the one thing that he had been taught never to do, he had give these people his knowledge of the direct link to the last known living Shipely daughter and the people that were claiming to be her parents. He had all but admitted the conspiracy against them. Loudon glanced at Perry who was smiling. Their eyes locked and Loudon knew the significance of the moment had not been lost on the Chief Magistrate either. "Get everyone downstairs, we're settling this before I let anyone go. I don't give a shit if the God damned army shows up and wants these people. Get this on the scopes now. I want the world to see if someone tries to stop us. If they shut down transmitters, then we'll use the city's wave transmitters. I don't want single interruption, understand Gene?" "Not a fucking chance of that happening. It will be the only thing that keeps us alive." Neither Marshall Simpson nor Judge Perry could have known how untrue that idea really was. The town was now dying from the outside in. No one had much time now, well almost no one. Jayce stood with his back to one of two surface openings to their cavern dwelling blocking the way of his mother's exit. The second was being guarded by Robert. Each had a narrow 100 foot stairway carved into the rock beneath the streets of Rouston. This one used to open to the basement of the home she had once shared with her husband, David. The home was now registered in Robert's name. At both ends of both passageways were airlock doors, impossible to open from the out side. Getting in would require drilling through the granite the cavern was made of. It would not impossible to get in, just impossible to get in through the door. Huge pneumatic drills were necessary to cut away the thick rock of the walls. Once in the passage, there was no way to maneuver a machine like that down the narrow passage way to the inner airlock. Getting to the central cavern without the pass code would have proven to be very difficult. Far and away enough time to escape or, should something require checking on the surface, whatever IT might be could not enter though the lower airlock door. Jayce's face was set and stern, "No," he told her. "-we've finished. We did what we set out to do and more. If I had any idea that you had to go out into that mob to do what you wanted to then I wouldn't have agreed to it. You're not going out there." "Get out of my way Jayce," his mother warned. "Or what," The towering man before her said rather than asked, crossed his arms and waited for her worst. "I have to get close to a transmitter for this to work," she held up the small box she had shown Beth during their visit after the capture of Michelle and Randy. "You said..." "I know what I said, but I've reconfigured it a little bit. The signal will can attach itself to open wave frequencies on the global wave. But I have to feed it to a transmitter or a wave eye or something else that will upload the signal to the global wave. I have to do this before the Feds come in and shut down the broadcasting grid for the town." "What's gonna happen if you send that out over the wave system Mother?" Jayce asked suspiciously. "Let's just say it will give everyone out there something to remember." She tried to push past him but he grabbed her waist and pulled her back inside, "Let me go," she cried, "I'm YOUR mother for Christ's sake, not the other way around." "Let me see if I can follow what you're telling me. You're going to go plug that thing in someplace, dispatch a signal that will circumnavigate the entire planet and shed activate the GEMs in hundred's of thousands of people, most of whom probably don't even know their Halflings at this point. These are the fireworks you told me about?" "What did you think I was talking about Jayce?" asked Caroline. "Not THIS," cried Jayce, "Jesus Christ. Have you seen the WR? Do you know what it's going to be like out there? What if the thing doesn't work? You haven't even tested it yet! You could have mucked the damn thing up for all you know." "Jayce..." Caroline had the audacity to act shocked. "Yes Mother, mucked it up. Using it on me is one thing. While I'm not thrilled about it, I'm willing to let you try because I can't stand the idea of leaving you down here in this miserable place, alone for eternity. But say it does work what then? You're proposing to unwittingly change the lives of untold thousands that didn't ask to be the way they are. And you don't even know how it will change them. You're willing to force them into light for what, to carry some sort of torch for you? Do you expect them to rise up against the kind of prejudice we've already seen against the Shipleys and cave out some sort of niche for us where we call all live happily ever after? "I don't expect anyone to stand up and fight for us," she snapped trying to twist her hand free of Jayce's grip. "Why then, what reason could you have for doing something like that to them. Do you think they want their world shattered like that? Do you think it's your responsibility to make them face what they are?" "Sometime sacrifices have to be made..." "No Mother. I've seen all the sacrifice I ever want to see again. This thing that happened to you and Michelle, it's not divine providence, it's not the hand of God at work, there is no God! There's just a crazy old man and his stupid invention and the jealously and fear and countless heart break it's caused. You and Michelle got caught in the middle of it Mother, and that's where it ends. Right there! Nothing else that happened afterward was anything else than the tragedy and joy of any other life. Some of it is worse others, some of it is better. That's Life! It doesn't give you any special rights to change the lives of anyone else." "I'm not talking about rights Jayce. I don't feel entitled to do this, but I know that those of us out there have to do something to show the people that we're here and we have a right to be here. The government doesn't have a right to hold us hostage twice. We-" Jayce pulled his mother close to his face, "There is no we! People like us are not a nation by ourselves. If we're out numbered and the majority decided they hate us because we're going to significantly out live them, then guess what? They win!" Caroline shook her head, "No Jayce, I can't let it end there." "Why not," he demanded of her? "Because it's not fair," she cried back to him nearly in tears. "It's not fair that we have to live in this hole in the ground with all the damn wet water from the rocks leaking out all around us. It's not fair that we can't enjoy the sunshine on a hot day or the cool new grass on our bare feet. I want hear the birds singing again. I want to hear the crickets and the peepers at dusk out on the lake and drink fresh tea while the sun runs from the sky and leaves fresh breezes of night on my face again. It's not fair they got to invent this crap, lock me into it and the claim I'm some sort of abomination. I'm not an abomination! I'm a human being and I have feelings." Jayce paused for a moment. He sometimes forgot that she needed more than her aging son and an adopted boy from the streets by her side. She was more than human; she was a young woman and would probably young forever. She was right, it wasn't fair to put her in that body and then stick her in a hole in the ground. Hell, for that matter, they might as well have sealed her up in a casket and buried her alive. "I love you mother, but I'm convinced you're not as conservative as you say you are." Caroline wiped away the water that had accumulated in her eyes but refused to react at first, then she smirked and said coyly, "What gave me away?" "Now I know where Bobby gets that impetuous attitude from ..." "I'll take that as a complement." It was Robert. He had managed to get with in feet of them on the landing without anyone hearing him. "Thank you Robert," Caroline said. "My pleasure Mom, but he's right, you're not going out there." "Robert!" Caroline said sounding shocked. Jayce looked relieved, "Oh good, finally he's starting to make sense." "Don't get all puffed up-" Robert warned Jayce, "I decided to listen in on some of the Federal bands and see just how shook up things were and-" Caroline's face fell practically to the floor believing Robert was some how going to report a complete failure of their plan, "And what Robert?" "There's something else wrong out there, bad wrong," "What's that supposed to mean?" Jayce asked annoyed. "It means that people are dying out there, wholesale. By all accounts, the numbers are in the thousands, maybe the millions by now. Washington has been evacuated, but there's no news of that on private receivers. The illegal receivers are picking up vocal reports, most of them encrypted. It doesn't take much to get past that; they've been hastily put up there, so the encryption stinks." Caroline nor Jayce was getting much information from this, "Robert," Caroline snapped, "What is going on out there?" "The Feds are trying to cover up an outbreak of some sort, a bad one. They're using the storm and what's happening here as cover, but-" "Robert, please!" the other two pleaded together. "I think they've lost control of it, they just don't want to admit it yet." Both of them looked stunned. "Do... do they know what it might be?" Caroline asked. Robert didn't respond, he simply pursed his lips and raised his eye-brows. He didn't have to come right out and say it. It was all over his face. "Oh God," Caroline breathed, "Is there any word on how or where-" "Where? Hell Mom," Robert said, "It's a full blown epidemic right now, the north east is a dead zone. I've heard that some believe it's gone airborne. President Ackworth is rumored to be dead along with about third of the legislature." "Jesus," they both whispered. "I heard that more than once as well, from what sounded like some pretty high ups, though no names were used. I could have sworn I could hear Senator Richmond and Senator Baldridge cussin' and spittin' at each other from somewhere out there." Caroline slid slowly down the wall on her back until she was in a low crouch on the floor of the landing. "I don't understand, what about all the people I saw in town, just a mile from here? What about them? Was that staged?" "No, I don't think so. Something's protected Rouston, until now that is. That's the other half of this. They think everyone is going to find out soon because there's talk that it's moving on us now. There's talk of pulling the plug on all transmission grids. That would buy them a few hours, maybe only a few minutes." Robert paused then crouched next to his mother, "I believe them. That's why you can't go out there. I think they're telling the truth." "There's nothing that strong out there. Something like this would require a long gestation period to spread like this." "Unless they were breeding it," Robert and Caroline both looked up at Jayce, horror reflected in their eyes. "Think it about it. If you were the Feds and you were dead already, why not just take everyone else out with you. It would be a lot better than standing around waiting to be blown up." "No," Caroline said in disbelief, "That can't be what's happening here. They wouldn't unleash something like that on the world just because they got caught with their pants down." Jayce's look of frustration said more than any words he could have chosen. "Do you remember who we're talking about? Ever since President Sharp died those power hungry bastards have been trying to keep anyone else from getting in their way." "They're going to pull the grid down you said," Caroline remarked. "They're talkin' about it," Robert admitted. "I wouldn't be surprised if they'd done it already. "Oh shit," Caroline was up on her feet and down the stairs to the living quarters below, passing her boys in blur. The two of them looked at each other quizzically for a moment, then the truth of what they had just let happen struck them. "MOTHER," they both screamed! Together they darted down the stairs, but she had a four second head start on them. If they couldn't close the gap between her and the airlock door, but they wouldn't catch her. She simply shut the door and that was the end of the chase. Before the door closed they heard her cry out, "I have to see what's going on out there," she had cried back from somewhere below them. Jayce knew better. The chamber had been his design. It was without flaw. Once between the doors, they might as well be in prison. When they hit the chambers below, the airlock door was just whooshing closed shut. The small green light that indicated it could be opened from their side turned red and the doors on both ends were now locked. "MOTHER," Jayce cried. He knew full well what was going on. "Open the fucking airlock Mother!" He pounded on the thick reinforced door with his mighty hand, no doubt sending reverberations through the living quarters. There was no need to check the hatch at the top of the landing either. The lock was designed to be activated only from within the chamber where his mother now stood. It was silent and sterile. Only one transmission was accepted on a small Wave receiver embedded on the wall, and that also was set internally. "Rip the God damned panel off Jayce. Maybe you can force the door open that way." Jayce tried to beat the panel from the wall. * BANG * * BANG * * BANG * "I can't, it's fucking sealed," the despair in his voice was unmistakable. "You built the fucking thing so even you couldn't get out if you were locked in it?" asked Robert dumbfounded. Jayce spun angrily around to face Robert, "What part of the concept of an air-"lock" don't you understand? It was meant to keep everything in here from getting in there," Jayce pointed harshly at the living chambers beyond the lock door. "If I designed it with a flaw anyone could have-" Jayce stopped, grabbed his hair and gave it a tremendous pull, "Why the fuck am I arguing with you? She's getting away!" he cried at Robert. "Right," Robert agreed and was about to start helping his brother rather than frustrate him any more when the WR next to them flickered into life, Caroline's pretty face with her Sicilian features appeared in full view. Robert pleaded, "Mom! Open the door Mom, now." When she spoke she spoke not to Robert, but in stead to her natural son, "You'd only stop me Jayce. I can't have that. I'm sorry my baby boy." He could see her eyes shone in the reflection of the light, and he knew she was trying to say goodbye without actually saying it. "Please Mother," Jayce asked softly. "It's not safe out there. You heard what Bobby said. You'll die. You did all this to save me and now you're going to do something that will take you away from me. Why?" Caroline wiped at her face, then gave her son the most sober look she could to explain. "It's not because I feel I want anyone to rise up. I'm really not trying to force anyone to be what their not. I'm doing this because- Because this is my fault." "WHAT," Jayce cried not believing his hears, "What in hell are you talking about, your fault?" "I stole those SKINs that changed Mike into Michelle. I was the one that plotted to keep her trapped in it. It's because of me they've been hunted all their lives. I ruined their lives Jayce." Jayce shook his head in disbelief. "There were thousands before them, agents and civilians alike, Loudon's mother, thousands who had their identities wiped out long before the Shipley's got involved in this." Caroline said nothing, instead Jayce watched as she searched the unseen table-top for something. When she found it, she lifted it to the eye of the closed circuit wave eye and pressed a small red button that Jayce knew had the label "TRANS" over it for transmit. The screen turned yellow for a moment, Caroline's face was veiled by the yellow low frequency beam that box emitted as it was fed into the wave eye. There was a tingling sensation on Jayce's end. He tried to step back but now, a magnified beam washed over him from the receiver. Without any warning, Jayce began to feel, for lack of a better phrase- tight in his skin. "Holy HELL Jayce," Robert cried out from behind him. And with that, it was over. The tingling sensation had stopped. With it had come a feeling of vitality, vigor and energy. Jayce drew a deep breath and filled his lungs to capacity. Something he hadn't done in a very long time. "See," his mother was saying from behind him, "it works perfectly." Now Jayce was greeted by a new sensation. Beneath his clothes across his head and hands and arms he had the feeling of being doused in a fine powder of some kind. He shook his sleeves and what drifted to the ground was what looked like a fine grey ash. "GEMs" he whispered. He turned to the window of the door and tried to catch his reflection, but all he saw was a ghost of an image there. "Bobby," he stammered looking at his hands. "You- you just changed all at once Jayce. It was almost instant." Robert seemed unable to catch his breath. Why not, he had never seen this kind of transformation before, no one had in 140 years. Not since agents had accidentally burned Michaels studio lab to the ground. "Jayce," his mother said softly, "my part in this isn't finished. I wish I could explain it better than that. But Jayce, when I saw his face, when I looked into those eyes that hadn't changed since the last time-" she paused for what almost seemed like a wistful moment, "I knew I wasn't out of it yet. I guess I've always known that what I was doing wasn't simply for you. I let my love for my baby convince me that it was, or maybe that what I was supposed to think. Now... there's more I just don't know why yet. She paused for a minute to compose herself. She then looked directly into her son's eyes and said, "I know if I let you two out of there, you'll both just try to stop me. You're restored my Jayce. Whatever happens to me has been waiting to happen since all this started. I have to go and face it." "What have you been drinking," Cried Robert? "Shut up," a stronger, considerably more youthful Jayce ordered and shoved his brother against the wall. "Let me handle this," he warned and returned to the screen. When he did however, the visage of his mother's face was gone. Only the airlock timer was visible in the screen where she had once been standing. It was counting backward from 29:24. "She's gone," Jayce said sounding defeated. Robert leapt to his feet, "She's gonna get killed out there," he cried smashing his fists against the door. "We have to get out and go after her." "That's not going to happen, whatever she planned to do she's going to try to do no matter what. We can't do a thing about that for..." Jayce glanced at the diminishing counter on the control console on the screen, "twenty seven minutes." The Shot Felt Around The World The shot heard around the world was simply a metaphor for the sweeping changes the American Revolution would have on the way people across the globe allowed themselves to be ruled. The event sparked more of a world wide revolution than simply a fight for independence in the New World. In a span of two hundred years, the government formed from that event would find itself in a hornet's nest of controversy for its foreign alliances and fifty years later, at the center of a World War that would almost break the back of the once proud nation. The people of that nation would grow tired of the attacks, both verbal and physical and, in the course of defending themselves would set their people on a path that would once again alter the face of the planet forever. The microburst of wind that slammed into Rouston, nearly downing the transport HOV carrying Judge Perry and his merry band of detainees, also blew through the drainage scuppers and street grates with hurricane force. The force of the winds became concentrated as they were rammed down narrow passage ways meant only for meandering water, intensifying their power by means of resistance. The force ripped the remainder of The Boogieman's frail body apart and blew it back down into the depths under the city from whence he came. Their supercharged currents blew the contents of the culverts, water, trash, clothing, the remains of thousands of lives that had been obliterated by The Vulture 24 hours before at high-speed toward the openings that flowed toward the bottom lands to the south. The Vulture was out. It began to mutate almost instantly. It had "learned" how to survive against attacks by a significantly stronger immune system than it had encountered ever before. Now it had the genetic blueprint for self manipulation - for survival. Outside, on the wind and far from food sources, it would have to become dormant until food came to it. It had also genetically "learned" that by letting the host live it could travel, propagate then replenish in a new host. The Vulture was no longer a metaphorical nickname used to symbolize its characteristic consumption of dead flesh as its name sake had once done in the bacterial laden environs of hospital rooms and ERs. It was much more now. It was now a predator. This new incarnation of what had started out as a marriage between streptococcal bacteria and hemorrhagic viruses such as Ebola and Marburg would never have an official medical moniker. There would be no hard to pronounce Latin equivalent in medical textbooks. In weeks, anyone who would ever care about such a thing would be dead. Before it mutated, it very efficiently wiped out 98% of the population of Maryland, Virginia, West Virginia, North and South Carolina, Kentucky, Arkansas and Northern Georgia, Alabama and Mississippi. In all 319,550,963 million people were dead in the first week of the outbreak. Most of those were dead in the first three days. This doesn't speak to the millions that died under the cover of the storm as The Vulture made its way slowly through the water system of the North East. As it progressed south, the nature of the beast changed. It dispersed on the trade winds that flowed aloft over the Federal States. Masses of biological contaminate became individualized organisms of death. They went dormant without food and moisture, to conserve energy and prolong life. When they landed, they woke slowly, and reproduced even slower letting the host carry them from street to street and individual to individual. Symptoms varied, most however felt achy, sick to their stomachs, suffered from migraines or developed dysentery. Most were prone to spontaneous vomiting, which helped the infection spread from the infected to the healthy. By the time the mutations were complete most people did know what it was they had contracted until it too late. In the first few hours most felt that they weren't suffering from anything worse than an everyday ordinary low-grade case of the flu. In four days Florida, the Miami Key, Florida Keys and the remainder of the Gulf States were under siege. While most civilian communications were down, it didn't stop word from spreading almost as fast as The Vulture itself spread. Millions who felt they were still safe fled in private vehicles, both by sea and air. A massive flotilla pushed its way toward South America through Cuba, Texas and the Caribbean Islands. It became evident in the first three days that these refugees also carried with them a gift for the hosts of their temporary new homes. The exodus from South America was fast. The American's had brought the plague with them as they had tried to escape it. But there was hope that it had only reached the northern countries. The boarder of Columbia, Nicaragua, Peru and Mexico were closed and sealed shut. Anyone caught crossing was executed on the spot. The idea was that a rapid evacuation of the healthy from the south and interior of the continent might save some lives. Coordination however was subject to corruption. Payoffs of infected cash chips were passed to guards and medical personnel whose entire culture was still based in a third world mentality of personal gain and invincibility. The Vulture had taken flight for Spain and Africa from Brazil and Argentina. Asia was invaded from Alaska. The bug had circumnavigated the globe by hiding inside its victims. The speed of global travel, a flight from Los Angles to Sidney took only four hours, where in centuries before it might take anywhere from 100 days by boat to 24 hours by fixed wing aircraft, allowed the bug to enter the general population with hours to spare before any symptoms began to appear. Most Jumpports were in large sprawling metropolitan districts with enormous populations were closed when people began dying in Japan. Once that outbreak had been discovered better than half of the population was infected. At a 100% communicability rate no one was spared. Those few who were not infected immediately became infected when the exodus from any one of the major cities inevitably began. There were no forced remaining that were large enough to keep the sick and dying from trying to escape the dead. This mass march to less populated areas of any region would only result in the infection of the resident population, no one escaped. Except Skinners As The Vulture began its death march toward the southern Federal States as the last trial of any century was getting underway in the Rouston Courthouse, Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, Judge Houston Perry presiding. This was not to be a jury trial. There was no time for that. This was a trial of civil rights infringement by the Federal Government. It was being proffered to halt all actions against the accused until such time as the State could accurately determine if charges against four of its native most famous citizens were warranted and accurate, and to determine if the accused rights were being violated. Houston Perry first ruling in the last trial of his life was to swing wide the doors of the courtroom and make the public gallery available to as many people as guards could safely squeeze into the seating area. He wanted to send a message to the politicians and covert policy makers to the east that Pennsylvania was, is and always would be a state that placed its values in the rights of the people, not the perseveration of a corrupt and secretive government. If anyone had asked, he might have told you that the governing mechanism had long since forgotten the intent of its mandate, that government of the people must be a government by the people. As far as he was concerned, there was no secret sacred enough to hide from those who would be governed. He posted armed guards around the room to ensure that anyone of the thousands that were not able to get a seat inside to see the miracle return of a long dead superstar remained outside and properly behaved. The courtroom, hallway, steps to the municipal building and the streets outside were choked with people beyond capacity. They stood shoulder to shoulder in the howling wind, a wind that would not protect them for long from what now lie just south of the town boarders. Already it was creeping in slowly, fighting its way to consume the masses that were, nothing more than cattle to The Vulture. For these people, it would end painfully but quickly. The bug had not yet mutated and was still in its most virulent form. This would be the only thing in which God had spared the people of Rouston. Perry sat in his chambers, behind his large oak desk, a blank WR screen flashing only snow and white noise before him. Around him were the parties of interest in this case, Gary, Randy, Michelle, Beth, Shelly and last of all Brad Loudon. "I don't think we're going to be able to reach anyone in your district office that can confirm your story Mr. Loudon." He knew he was transmitting. The courts had their own transmission array, independent of public waves. The problem was, no one was home to answer the call. It seemed they had all gone on hiatus. An even more disturbing development was that many of the public frequencies were no longer available. They had information in them, but nothing could be uploaded to them. It was almost as if someone was blocking the data uplink. Loudon bristled at Perry's attempt to contact his 'Superiors', "My badge and my status are all the confirmation you need--" "Don't play one-ups-man-ship with me son," Perry said standing up to make his point. "I'm the final rule of law here in this court, dually elected by the citizens of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and sworn to protect the rights of those same citizens. Before you give me any lip about higher powers or the good of the fucking Nation, let me warn you that I and the Federal Government have very different ideas about what's good for the Nation. So don't waste your time spewing any of your Federalist bullshit on my floor." "It doesn't matter what you think or feel, your Honor," the last part was spoken sarcastically with malice intent, "My mandate was clear and with in the guide lines of the National Law. Apprehend these-- terrorists, confine them and take them to Washington for trial. Your court proceedings here have done nothing but jeopardize this Nation's already tenuous relationships with many of its allies." "Oh blow it out your ass sonny! I want an answer to my question, are you going to remove those sadist hoods or am I going to burry you under my jail?" Loudon thought his answer for a moment, then said with a smile, "Start digging!" "God Damn him," Perry muttered. Eugene Simpson, standing in the wings offered, "We could try to beat it out of him." "That wouldn't be very neighborly of us now Eugene," Judge Perry said with a glint in his eyes. "You wouldn't want that now would you Mr. Loudon?" "Don't matter to me," said Simpson. "I'm in so deep now, I'm never gonna see retirement. Might as well finish this bastard off while I'm at it." Houston considered Loudon for a moment, "See Mr. Loudon, you're not making any friends here. I can almost guarantee that before anyone comes to take you off our hands, you will be so much worse the wear." "I see that you and I aren't so different after all Your Honor. That's good to know." Perry Houston sat back and thought for a moment. "This trial can't go forward with two of the defendants heads locked up in those awful things. Isn't there some way to get those hoods off those girls? " "We've tried nearly everything at our disposal. Even lasers that would cut titanium like butter had no effect. They just absorb the energy we put to them." "Are you telling me," Gary asked, "that there's no way to get my wife and daughter out of these things?" Houston gave Gary a sober, unwelcomed look, "Mr. Shipley, I wish I had better news for you. These things are outlawed for this very reason. I don't know what to tell you except that I'm doing everything in my power to exact some justice in your favor." "I appreciate that Your Honor. You'll forgive me if I say that it doesn't seem to be enough though." "We don't even have council Your Honor," Gary continued. "I'm afraid that in the interest of time, I'll be forced to make a series of rulings that, hopefully, will protect you from being taken from the state until we can arrange suitable council for you and your family. Until then I've ordered a public defender to stand with you." "We can't call our own lawyer?" Randy asked confused. "Sure you can son, but if I'm to have any time to rule legally in this case, then we've got to get the ball rolling. I need to be out on that bench before the Feds come storming in here. That way everything we do is on the record. The Feds can't change what the people will see. Once that's done, they have to go through legal channels if they're going to get any support at all. They're in a shit-hole son. That little tale of woe your father-in-law cast over the waves put them there. If you're the people you say you are, well, I don't think anyone will be handing them a ladder to get out of that hole any time soon." "First things first however, we have to get these masks off your wife and mother-in-law, if we can, so the world can get a peek at who they really are." Perry surveyed the people around him for an idea or some spark of inspiration. Nothing came to him. He reached for the WR to try to locate an old colleague from his days in law enforcement. When he did, his hand brushed the plastic baggie with the contents seized at Loudon's capture. He reached over and snatched the bag, "Gene, your boys forgot to take this down to the evidence room. Give it to the bailiff outside and he'll send it down stairs. Simpson took the bag without a word and crossed the room with it, opened door to the Judge's chambers and poked his head and the bag outside. Perry watched as Simpson crossed the room and he noticed something that struck him as odd. Not only was he watching Simpson, but so was this Loudon fellow. He seemed to wear a look of great relief on his otherwise straight stern poker face. Perry tried to appear as if his attention was else where so Loudon wouldn't see him studying the man's face. He glanced to at the five people standing there. Curiously, the Loudon fellow was sweating bullets. The others, as uncomfortable with the situation as they were, seemed calm for the most part. It didn't feel hot in here to Perry either, "Sumpin in that bag you don't want me to see, Mr. Loudon?" The comment had the effect Perry had wanted. It caught Loudon completely by surprise. Loudon however, said nothing. The other five turned and scrutinized the man that had made it his life's work to drive them all out of existence. Randy turned and lurched toward Eugene Simpson, "That bag--" he cried, "Don't let that bag out of this room!" Simpson turn, PPMD weapon drawn and ready to fire, "Hold it right there son," he said, "You just keep your distance." "It's all right Gene, bring the bag back in here, I want to take a closer look at it." "Bring it back? I just gave it to the Deputy for crying out loud, I wish you'd make up your mind about something today." "I wish you'd stop whining, but we can't have everything we want now can we," Houston muttered under his breath? Simpson stepped one step out of the door and shouted into the already noisy courtroom, "Hey, have Trevor bring that bag back." Loudon's lips press tight, thin slivers of determination. With his hands cuffed he rammed his shoulder into Gary's right side. The Shipley's fell like so many dominos on a table top. Only the fact that Randy was no longer in his place kept the entire family from falling to the floor. There were groans of surprise as the family began to totter over. Houston Perry quickly began to retrieve an old F-Tazor from his desk. As he stood however Loudon shoved Perry's desk back across the old man's legs and Perry dropped like a sack of wet potatoes. "Hugh," Simpson cried out and lunged for his friend. Loudon dashed for the door where the bag of his personal items had been passed. It was Randy that crushed him against the door jamb, his arm lodged tightly against the man's throat. "It's in the bag isn't it," Randy whispered to Loudon as Brad's eyes began to bulge from their sockets from lack of air. Even Brad Loudon hadn't anticipated just how fast and strong Randy was. Eugene Simpson was trying to help Judge Perry to his feet but Houston waved him off. "The prisoners Gene--" Simpson turned around to see the Benton man doing his best to suffocate the Shop agent. Once more he brandished his weapon, a full phase PPMD, and demanded, "Let him go!" The door of the chamber swung wide and there were two uniformed police officers in support, weapon's drawn, each one pointing to a different target. "Do as he says, let him go." "He was trying to get to that bag the Marshall handed to the bailiff-- " "He's not going anywhere, let him go and let's get this thing straightened out." Randy growled deep in his chest, "They'd better be able to get my family out of those things. If they can't you and I are going to dance." Loudon answered in a strangled voice, "I welcome the invitation. You and your family have been invited to the dance for a long time. Like the cowards that you are however, you never seemed to show up when the music started to play." Randy took his open hand and shoved it against Loudon's face and used that to push off from. Behind him, Beth, still locked in her own Sadists Hood had begun to try to pull Randy back toward the center of the room, away from Loudon and the weapon's leveled at his body. Simpson grabbed onto Loudon's shirt and dragged him away from the doorway, "Have a seat," he said and tossed the man unceremoniously into on of the chairs used for visiting guests. Eugene then turned to the two uniformed officers, "Get the bailiff back in here with that bag." One of the officers nodded and was gone. The other stood guard at the doorway, his weapon perpetually scanning the room for more trouble. "I should have retired when I had the chance the other day, but nooooooooooo. I had to let Percy Hammond get the better of me." Perry said struggling to stand erect. "I'm too old for this shit!" With Gary's help, he shoved his desk back into position and took his seat just as the court bailiff returned, bag in hand. "You wanted this back Your Honor?" "Yeah," Perry said reaching for the bag, "Sorry about that Deputy, something came to mind at the last minute, thanks" He took the bag and then indicated that the Deputy could go. "Now," Perry said spilling the contents out on his desk, "let's see what we have here." Houston's hand found the needle encoder. He examined it closely for a moment and gestured to Beth step forward. Beth turned to Randy silently, with questioning eyes and Randy nodded, "Go on," Beth stepped forward and the Judge indicated that he wanted her to turn and face her husband. With her back to him, Perry pushed her blond ponytail to the side and found exactly what he had hoped would be there. A small pin hole! Perry inserted the narrow end of the encoding needle into the hold and depressed a small digital pressure pad on the side. There was a small whispering sound and the mask went slack and clicked open in the back. Beth took her first unrestricted deep breath in hours. She grasped the top of the mask and pulled it free. Beth's wavy blond hair was matted to the sides of her head. It lay there in strands, oily and dark where the mask had captured the sweat from her pores. Her face was shiny with it and she shook uncontrollably. Everyone, even Michelle who was still trapped in hers, was physically relieved as his body posture noticeably relaxed. "Oh my God," Beth said. "I didn't think I'd ever get that off." Soon she began to sob. "Please, get my mother out of that thing." Michelle stepped forward and the process was repeated, only Michelle's mask didn't relax, it remained firmly locked around her neck and head. "Let me try again," Perry said, only now Michelle's hands were on the mask trying in vein to get pry the thing off her head as she had when it had first been locked on. "Hold still please," Perry asked calmly and Michelle did as she was asked. But it took every ounce of strength she had to remain still. The tightness of the mask was maddening. The way it restricted her facial features, movements and breathing was driving her insane, but worse yet was that it had become an impenetrable barrier between her and Gary. Michelle could feel the needle go into the hole at the back of the mask. She then tried to pry her thumbs under the thick collar around her neck, but the mask remained rigid and unyielding. "Why won't it come off?" Gary asked at Michelle's side as he tried to calm her. "I don't know, I've never actually had any experience with these things before," Perry said. "Let's try again." "It won't work," Loudon answered. "Why not?" Perry asked determinedly. "She's a Federal prisoner. You don't think we'd use the same code on both masks do you?" Ignoring Loudon, Perry continued to try. Michelle was becoming increasingly anxious and finally tore away and began to struggle desperately with the mask, worried now that it would, as the agent had suggested, never come off. Gary raced to her as did Beth. "Mom, please, calm down. Let him try again." Inside they could both see that she had started to cry. Michelle could not take her hand from the collar around her neck. The spot was turning an angry red color from the strain she was putting on her skin to force the mask off. She turned to Gary and clutched at his arms moaning in the mask. "She can't breathe, we have to get this off her now, NOW!" The lenses of the mask made Michelle's large green eyes appear even more pleading as she looked up with cartoonishly exaggerated orbs of sadness. Clinging to Gary helplessly he began to loose patience and his resolve. "She's breathing, she may be hyperventilating so if she passes out, that will cure her breathing problem. Otherwise I suggest you remain calm and she will tend to remain calm as well. Michelle dropped to her knees holding the sides of her shield clad head in moaning a tortured muffled moan from inside her prison." "Here. Let me come to her. Just help her remain calm." Judge Perry came from behind his desk and bent over. Has he had done before, he swept Michelle's auburn ponytail to the side and tinkered with the lock for fifteen more minutes without success. He stood and worked out a crick that had settled his lower back and then returned to work. This time, the encoding needle seemed to slide in deeper than before. Then the mask suddenly relaxed. The collar popped open and Michelle tore it from her face gasping. The hood went flying across the room, the rigid lenses clacked against the wall of Judge Perry's office. Loudon's bluff had failed. Michelle's hair and face appeared in much the same condition as Beth's, sweaty and greasy from the being held within the torturous confines of the Sadist Hood. Behind her, at the back of her head, her hair still retained the vague, unsupported shape of the ponytail that had protruded from the back. Gary lowered himself to his knees and Michelle fell into Gary's arms and wearily she smiled and said, "Hi," Michelle was crying with the relief she felt. The air on her sweat oiled skin was cool and luxurious. I'll never take a breeze for granted, not ever again... Her knees buckled at the idea of how close she'd come to spending eternity locked inside that formless rock. As she scanned her husbands face, Loudon growled in anger at being defeated once again. It was enough to draw Michelle's attention. The scowl of anger that replaced her pretty face in no way gave alerted Simpson or Perry what was about to happen. Michelle flew from Gary's arms, cocking her fist back behind her as she did. Loudon, distracted by the motion turned in time to see Michelle's fist flying out of orbit toward his left eye. "You SON-OF-BITCH!" Michelle fist compressed Loudon's eye, causing it to bulge, pressing it's stress limits to their maximum, nearly bursting it. He was forced backward in his chair, which toppled up on one leg and seemed to balance there just long enough for Michelle to cock her fist once again and land one more punch on Loudon's jaw. "You FUCK! You came and took us on the day I buried my DAUGHTER?" She screamed at him standing over him, straddling him. Her face was bright red. All her beauty gone, replaced by the image of a madwoman. She kicked him in his ass as he lay groaning on the floor. All this happened to the stunned disbelief of those standing in the room. It was nearly fifteen seconds before anyone thought to move. Perhaps most stunned was Beth, Shelly and Gary. "You put those... those... things on me, on MY DAUGHTER? " she screamed, her fists still balled up, seemingly ready to launch another salvo at Loudon's head. Gary slipped up behind her as it seemed she was going to pounce on the man and do her personal best to kill him, and wrapped her up. "LETMEGO GARY!" "Baby," Gary tried. "NO... NO. LET HIM WEAR THAT THING! LET HIM FIND OUT WHAT IT'S LIKE." She tried to fight to free herself but could not get free of Gary's grasp. Finally she began to give up and eventually calmed reluctantly. "You got him Baby. You got him," Gary softly said, holding her tight. "It's not enough..." she cried in return. "It won't ever be enough." Gary was forced to consider that this time might be more than she could get over. He needed to get her out of Loudon's sight. Loudon was helped up and the Shipley family enjoyed their re-reunion as traumatic as it had all become. Gary's face beamed as a tear slipped from his eye and splashed on Michelle's cheek, "I told you, you should have gone with Shelly. I almost didn't get you back." His familiar sarcasm seemed to break the tension in her just a little and she turned gratefully to Gary and said, "What? And miss that exciting rescue, you're kidding right?" She buried her face in his chest and wept happily. When she lifted her head her face was tear streaked, "I really thought we were gone. Oh Gary, I was so scared." Loudon seemed an after thought now. He was not worth spending any more effort on. Michelle had dismissed him as quickly as she as surely tired to kill him. Content now that his superiors would make so much minced meat of the man's career if not the man himself. She was convinced that Loudon had much larger things to worry about that her family now. "I told you I wouldn't leave," he whispered to her and she clinched tightly to him at his words. Beth huddled in next to them as did Randy and Shelly. It was Beth that looked up at her father and said, "See Daddy," she had relieved smile on her face that spoke to the close call they had all just experienced, "I told you it would work." Gary chuckled nervously, "I may of worked, for now but..." "What worked?" Randy asked. "I think I'll let Beth tell you son, someday when I'm well out of reach." Randy turned and looked question down at his wife, "What's he talking about?" She looked chagrinned at her father, "Thanks Daddy. We couldn't have just left it at, 'See I told you it would work', could we?" "Randy," Gary said touching his shoulder to get his attention, "don't be mad at her when she tells you. Without her bravery, we wouldn't all be standing here together." Gary turned grasped his wife's face, and held it tenderly, "We don't have to be scared any longer. No more hiding, no more running. The whole world knows about us now." "As your daughter indicated on the transport Mr. Shipley, I don't think you could hide if you wanted to now," Simpson said peering out one of the windows that over looked the streets below. "If we don't resolve this soon, that mob out there is going to take this building apart, brick by brick." He turned to his friend, Judge Perry, "It won't matter much what you want to do. What ya say Hugh?" The door to the Judge's chambers opened once more unexpectedly, "Sir," the deputy said poking his head in the room, "The Council for the defense has arrived." Perry took a deep breath, "That, ladies and gentlemen, is our queue. And not a moment too soon I might add." He stood and led the six, five defendants and one prisoner out into an excited courtroom humming with anticipation. Paradigm Shift "All Rise," called out the bailiff as the Honorable Judge Houston Perry exited his chambers a