Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

Sunday — 11:16 A.M.

“Heather!”

Blane yelled as he ran in the house. Slamming the door, he ran toward where he could hear her voice.

“Heather?”

“We’re in here,” she said.

He jogged toward the den off the kitchen. Heather was sitting in a rocking chair with Mack on her shoulder.

“Hi,” she said. “How are you?”

“Missed you guys,” Blane said. “Can I?”

“Sure.”

Standing, Heather held Mack out to him. Impulsively, Blane hugged them both. Heather laughed. He kissed her cheek then took Mack from her. Mack made a happy sound in recognition of Blane. He kissed Mack’s face then settled him on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“I’ve been at the hospital with Sam and…. I’m just happy to have you guys.” He smiled at her. “That’s all.”

She hugged him.

“Sorry you missed church,” Blane said.

“Mack and I went with the girls. We just got back,” Heather said. “He was an angel.”

“You fed him before you went?”

“In the car. Like his Mama, he’s happy with a full belly,” Heather laughed. “Can I get you something?”

“No, I’m just home for a shower. I have to help Jake today. Does that work for you?”

“Of course,” Heather said.

“Jake’s has a big mess today. The sites were closed yesterday and the Castle’s falling down and… Oh it doesn’t matter.”

Blane kissed Mack’s cheek and held his arm out for Heather. She tucked herself into him.

“How’s Delphie?” Heather asked.

“She still thinks she’s dead,” Blane said. “If we weren’t so freaked out for her, it would be pretty funny. She comes home tomorrow.”

“Are you working at the Castle?”

Blane nodded. Shifting away, he gave Mack back to her.

“I should keep moving. Let’s have dinner tonight,” he said. “Just us. I’ll make something yummy.”

“It’s a date,” Heather said.

“You’re sure you’re all right? You seem a little blue.”

“There was a note from Enrique when I got back,” Heather said.

“Oh? What did it say?” Blane asked.

He pointed up the stairs to the shower. She followed him up.

“I didn’t open it,” she said.

“Go ahead.”

While he got ready to shower, she and Mack went back downstairs to get Enrique’s note. He was in the shower when she returned.

“He says that he’s been sober for four days. He moved out of his house and Calvin is moving out at the end of the month. He starts with a therapist tomorrow.”

“Anything else?” Blane asked.

“He loves you,” she said.

“Why would a note from Enrique make you blue?”

“Oh,” Heather said. “What am I going to do when you and Enrique get back together?”

“You’re my wife,” Blane said. “He’s my past. I don’t get the conflict.”

“You wouldn’t,” Heather said. She was halfway down the stairs when he caught up with her.

“Hey! Don’t do that,” he said. “Please. We don’t do this. We’re honest, say what’s on our minds. We don’t play these games.”

She nodded. Naked and dripping water, he took her hand and led her back to the bathroom. He pointed to the toilet and she sat down. She settled Mack in her arms while he finished showering. She gave him a towel when he stepped out of the shower.

“What’s going on?” Blane asked.

“I’m feeling sorry for myself,” Heather said.

“The doctor said we should watch for post partum depression because you’ve been depressed before. Is this the same?”

“I just…”

Blane wrapped the towel around his trim waist. Heather fussed with Mack to keep having to admit her sadness.

“Delphie told me today that you and I are soul mates,” Blane said.

Heather’s head jerked up.

“It sounds crazy,” he said. “But she says there are types of soul mates that aren’t lovers or romantically involved or whatever we’re doing. She said your soul and my soul are linked. We’re supposed to be together, to make a family together. That’s why it took one conversation on a plane and we’ve been happy ever since. You’re happy, right?”

“Very happy,” Heather said. “That’s the problem. I’m terrified it will go away. You’ll get together with Enrique and I’ll…”

“I’m not going anywhere. Do you want to go anywhere?”

Heather shook her head.

“I’ve never been this happy,” Blane said. “I’ve been at that hospital all weekend. Before you and Mack came along, I was completely alone. Even with Sam and Val and Jake and everyone else, you make my family. If I get involved with someone else, he’ll just have to deal with that. You and I are soul mates. Does that feel true?”

“Delphie told me we were meant to be together on the plane,” Heather said. “She just seemed so odd that I…”

“She’s much odder now that she’s convinced that she’s dead. She won’t speak directly to anyone but Sam and Jake. She makes commentary to the rest of us. ‘Oh Jake, you know Blane and Heather are soul mates.’ It’s pretty odd.”

Heather nodded.

“Are you depressed?”

“I don’t think so,” Heather said. “I’m tired.”

“It’s a lot – a newborn and all this drama. Do we have Molly’s kids again today?”

“No, Pete and Aden are moving to Canon City this afternoon. Molly’s home with them.”

“I can stay home today…”

“No, go. Jake wouldn’t ask for help if he didn’t really need it,” Heather said. “They’ve been really amazing since Mack was born.”

“Why don’t I make some brownies before I go?”

“On the diet again,” Heather shook her head. “I’m still have twenty pounds to lose.”

“Tell you what,” he said. “Tomorrow, we’ll workout together. Running, lifting, only healthy food. But today I’ll make you…”

“Chocolate cake?”

“Coming right up,” he said. “Can you take it easy today? Watch movies and hang out with Mack?”

“He’s not too much work,” she nodded.

“Should I call the girls?”

“No, you’re right. I just need a break.”

He nodded. Sitting on their bed, she followed him into their bedroom and watched him get dressed.

“Do you want to move back into your bedroom?” she asked. “You’re not sick anymore and Mack…”

“No,” Blane said. “I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my entire life. Do you want your own bedroom?”

She shook her head.

“Let it rest, Heather,” he said. “Everything is fine. Come on, let’s make a cake.”

He picked up Mack’s bassinette and carried it to the kitchen. They settled him on the counter and laughed their way through making a cake. Blane frosted one layer of cake in the pan. He gave her the frosted warm cake.

“I never did this for Enrique,” he said. “I would only let him have a completed project. No samples. You get anything you ask for. Ask me and it’s yours.”

“Do you love me?”

“I do,” he said.

“Oh, really?” she blushed.

“Yes,” he said. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, a lot,” she said. Her eyes welled with tears.

“And sex?”

“Not since we tried it that time,” she gave him a watery smile. “Too weird.”

“Weird is a word for it,” he laughed.

“But…”

“No buts. Let’s just enjoy it.”

“No buts.” She nodded.

He held her tight, kissed her cheek, squeezed her hand then went out the door. Heather smiled.

Everything was fine. She was loved. She was happy. He was happy. She’d just have to get used to it.

~~~~~~~~

Sunday — 1:35 P.M.

Jill looked across the kitchen table at Sandy and Honey. Valerie sat down next to her at the table.

“I asked you guys…”

There was a crash from the living room where Jake, Blane and a crew of men worked to clear the wreckage from the incident with Levi Johansen. The women looked toward the kitchen door. They were filling a second roll off dumpster with debris and furniture.

Honey, MJ and Sam had moved out of their wing of the Castle. With the Chapel destroyed, a portion of the Castle was no longer structurally stable. Sam had moved into an apartment on the second floor while MJ and Honey had moved into an apartment in the basement. Jacob had installed a stair lift so Honey could get to the gym. She would be able to get up and down the stairs to the basement when MJ wasn’t home.

Valerie got up to switch off the screaming tea kettle.

“Tea?” Valerie asked.

The women shook their heads. Valerie made herself some peppermint tea and sat back down.

“Why did you want to talk to us Jill?” Valerie asked.

“Delphie usually cooks all our meals,” Jill started.

“She puts groceries in our refrigerator,” Sandy said.

“Ours too,” Honey said. “I haven’t been to the grocery store since we moved in here. Delphie has taken care of all of that.”

“Right,” Jill said. “I think we need to assume she won’t do that for a while.”

“What do the doctors say?” Sandy asked.

“Her brain damage, plus her psychic predisposition, have precipitated in a mental state…” Valerie stopped. Her eyes welled with tears. “She thinks she’s dead. They don’t know if she’ll get better. There isn’t a med or a therapy or…”

Overwhelmed with sadness, Valerie stopped talking. A fat tear slid down her beautiful face. Jill put her hand on Valerie’s shoulder. Valerie wiped her face.

“We need to start taking care of some of the things around here,” Jill said. “Like the dogs, the house cleaning, the cooking, the shopping, and eventually the gardens. Did Mike turn the beds yesterday?”

“He’s doing it now. He’s worried about me and Delphie… He’s nervous about tonight’s art opening,” Valerie wiped her eyes. “We need to find someone to take care of the bees.”

“Is Nash still taking martial arts?” Honey asked Sandy.

“I was just thinking I could ask Colin about the bees,” Sandy said. “Good idea Honey.”

“What should we do about dinner? Do we still want to eat together?”

“I really like it,” Honey said. She blushed at her own exuberance. Valerie squeezed Honey’s hand. “It’s the best part of my day, especially since I’ve been doing this trial or when MJ’s gone.”

“I like it too,” Jill said. “Sandy?”

“Absolutely,” Sandy said. “It’s nice not to have dinner to worry about. Honestly, I don’t know if I can afford groceries for us. We still don’t have Aden’s money and probably won’t.”

“I can cover it,” Jill and Valerie said at the same time. They smiled at each other.

“We’ll get it covered,” Valerie said. “You need groceries for…”

“Breakfast, lunch, baking and dinners for nights Nash has soccer or Noelle has art class,” Sandy said. “With the kids, it’s probably a thousand, fifteen hundred a month, maybe more. These kids aren’t used to American cheese and hot dogs.”

“Ok, so someone needs to do the household shopping or organize a list if we want it delivered,” Valerie said.

“I don’t think the delivered stuff is as good,” Honey said.

“It’s expensive and you don’t get to pick your own vegetables,” Jill said.

“I’ll shop,” Honey said. “I think it would be fun.”

The women gawked at her. Sandy shifted uncomfortably.

“What?” Honey asked.

“Can you shop?” Valerie asked.

“Of course I can shop!” Honey said. “At least I think I can. Just because I’m in this wheelchair and have limited use of my hands doesn’t mean I can’t do it.”

“How about this?” Sandy asked. “Honey organizes the shopping and Jill or I will go with her to help.”

“I can go,” Valerie said.

“You and a billion photographers,” Jill said.

“I can still go,” Valerie said. “The photographers can’t go in the store.”

“Ok, one of us will go with Honey to help,” Sandy said. “Does that work?”

“I wonder if we could get Blane to cook dinner for us,” Valerie said. “He’s an amazing chef.”

Jill and Sandy gave Valerie a puzzled look.

“He went to Chef’s school. He used to be a Sous Chef at the Capital. He’s really amazing. Have you had his chocolate cake?”

“To. Die. For.” Jill said. Sandy nodded.

“He’d probably do it,” Valerie said. “But with Mack and everything, it’s kind of a lot to ask.”

“I can cook,” Jill said.

The women looked at her with doubt.

“Really,” Jill said. “I used to cook all our meals when I was a kid. That was my household job. I’m not a Chef, but I can cook. With school and working for Jake, I have time to do it.”

“I’ll make bread and pastries,” Sandy said. “That would be fun for me.”

“I’ll work out a menu for the week,” Honey said. “I’ll coordinate everyone’s contributions into a schedule and do the shopping.”

“Wow, that’s a lot Honey. Are you sure?” Valerie asked.

“I want to do it,” Honey said. “MJ and I… We really like living here. It’s the least I can do.”

“What will I do?” Valerie asked.

“You’re going back to Prague, right?” Jill asked.

“Next Sunday. But I’ll be home in four weeks. Then I’m here until we have the baby.” Valerie’s face clouded again. “If we have the baby.”

Jill hugged Valerie. Valerie sighed then pushed her sadness away.

“When I get back, I can help run the household. If Delphie’s not better, we’ll need to plant the gardens, mow the lawn, take care of the maintenance, and…”

“Delphie does a lot for us,” Sandy said.

The women nodded.

“We need to do this for her,” Jill said.

“We can do this,” Honey said. “I’ll get everything organized. Maybe I’ll ask Blane if he could cook Sunday dinner.”

“That’s a great idea,” Sandy said. “We can have everyone here for Sunday dinner. I’d like that.”

The women nodded in agreement to Sandy.

“We can do this,” Jill repeated.

“I wish we didn’t have to,” Honey said.

~~~~~~~~

Sunday afternoon — 2:45 P.M.

“You know you’re alive,” Celia chided Delphie.

“I know nothing of the kind,” Delphie replied.

They were sitting outside on a small patio. Delphie had begged for some time to herself. Sam had helped her to the patio then left her to her self. She’d spent most of her meditation arguing quietly with Celia.

“Can you feel pain? Sadness? Rage?” Celia asked.

“Yes,” Delphie said.

“Then you’re alive,” Celia said. “Why would you want to be dead?”

“I’m dead like you,” Delphie said.

“Then why can Sam see you?” Celia asked. “Talk to you? Hold your hand?”

“What are you? The alive or dead police?”

“I’m your best friend,” Celia said. “I want you to live every moment of this life to its fullest. It’s a miracle that you’re still alive.”

“No, I’m not.”

“It’s unlike you to be so stubborn. What’s going on with you?”

Delphie looked at the apparition of her best friend, her beloved Celia. She had no logical response to Celia’s sincere and loving question. Delphie’s mind drifted to the crushing moment she felt completely alone. Lying on the Castle living room floor, Delphie knew she would be alone for an eternity. Losing everyone was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to her. Delphie shook the loss from her head.

“Why is it better to be dead?” Celia asked.

Like a tiny spark, her mind replied: ‘I can’t lose them again.’ The spark was gone before Delphie was even aware it.

“It’s not better. It just is,” Delphie said.

Celia laughed.

~~~~~~~~

Sunday evening — 5:15 P.M.

“But why can’t I take out Melinda?” Nash whined. “Dad would let me date.”

Nash had returned from snowboarding angry and ready for a fight. He’d been needling Sandy for weeks about dating. Tonight he would not let up. Noelle had tried to intervene, but finally gave up and went to her room.

“Your father is not here,” Sandy said. “Get dressed. We’re leaving in a few minutes.”

“You think of me as a child!” Nash shifted into a full blown rant. “You want me to be a little itty baby. I’m not a baby. I have a job! I want to have a girlfriend! How hard is that?”

“Nash,” Sandy touched the boy’s shoulder. He shrugged her off. “Why are you so angry tonight?”

“Why do you care? You just want me to do what I’m told and shut up. Well, I’M NOT GOING TO SHUT UP.”

With all her might, Sandy wished Delphie was here. Delphie always knew how to handle Nash when he was angry.

“Good to know,” Sandy said.

“I HATE you” Nash gestured at her with his cast. “And I HATE this!”

He stomped down the hall to his room. The apartment vibrated when he slammed his door. Sandy plopped down on the couch. She heard Noelle try to talk to Nash. He screamed at her. Dressed in her best dress, Noelle came out to sit on the couch next to Sandy. The little girl and the woman sat on the couch staring at nothing for few moments. Sandy sighed.

“I better go talk to him,” Sandy said.

Sandy went down the hall and to Nash’s bedroom. Opening the door, she found him lying face down on the bed. She sat next to him on the bed and softly stroked his back.

“Nash,” Sandy said. “Dating is a big deal. If you want to take Melinda, or any girl out, you have to have the skills to do it well. Otherwise, it’ll just be hard and awkward.”

“Why do you think I don’t have the skills?”

“I don’t know if you do or don’t,” Sandy said. “We need to figure out what you need to learn. When you’re ready, you can ask Melinda out. You didn’t give me a chance to say that before you got so upset.”

“She probably hates a loser like me anyway,” Nash said.

“She’s going to Mike’s art opening tonight,” Sandy said. “You could see if she hates you there.”

Nash didn’t move or say anything.

“I know this has been really hard on you,” Sandy said. “It’s hard for all of us. But it only works if we’re a team. When you’re upset, we’re upset. Do you really hate this?”

Sandy leaned forward when she heard a ‘No.’

“We’re all heartbroken about Delphie,” Sandy said.

Nash’s back began to heave.

“She’s coming home tomorrow.”

Nash rolled over. He threw himself into Sandy’s arms. Sandy held the crying boy.

“I should have done something,” Nash said. “I didn’t do anything for Dad and I didn’t do anything for you and I didn’t do anything for Delphie and…”

“You did something for all of us,” Sandy said.

“No I didn’t,” Nash said. “I let you get hurt and…”

“You loved us,” Sandy said. “That’s all that matters to me, your Dad and Delphie.”

“It’s not enough,” Nash said. “Dad’s in a coma and Delphie’s in the hospital and…”

Hearing a noise, Sandy turned to see Noelle standing in the doorway. Crying, Noelle ran to the bed to join their hug. She held the weeping children.

No amount of cookies or brownies would fix this situation. Sandy was at a loss for what to do to make things better. She just hung on for dear life. After a few minutes, she sighed.

“We need to get ready to go,” she said. “This is a big day for our friend Mike. He’s asked us to be there with him. He’s pretty nervous. I think we would be crummy friends if we let our own problems keep us from being there for him.”

Nash and Noelle nodded.

“Sometimes, we have to just put away what we feel so we can be there for someone else,” Sandy said.

“Is that what you do with us?” Nash asked.

“Sometimes,” Sandy said. “Sometimes I feel sorry for myself and eat Girl Scout cookies.”

“What kind of Girl Scout cookies?” Nash asked.

“Any,” Sandy smiled. She stroked his hair then hugged him. “Are we all right?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Are we all right?” Sandy hugged Noelle.

“Of course,” Noelle said. “Nash, you have to get dressed. Fancy dress.”

“I do?” Nash returned to whining.

“Dating skill #1,” Sandy said. “You have to be able to dress up even when you don’t feel like it. And fast. You have five minutes.”

Nash hopped off the bed and began rifling through his closet. Chuckling to herself, Sandy led Noelle from his bedroom. Five minutes on the mark, Nash arrived from his bedroom in dress pants, a nice shirt and a jacket. Sandy helped him with his tie.

They jogged down the stairs and out to the driveway where they joined Jill, Jacob, Katy, Honey, and MJ in the back of a limousine.

“Everything all right?” MJ asked Nash. “You seemed a little upset.”

“I need to learn dating skills,” Nash said.

“Don’t we all,” Jacob said.

At that moment, the driver took off from the Castle. They were off to Mike’s big event.

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of Denver Cereal, the beginning, and Celia’s Puppies.
Like printed books? Go here or Amazon for a print copy of the Denver Cereal;
Go here or Amazon for the recently released Celia’s Puppies.
Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER FIVE

“Why is the resolution of every B horror movie so anti-climatic?” Raz asked.

He stood between Matthew and Troy watching Alex work. Standing on a chair, Alex played eeny, meeny, miny, moe with the square at the top of the north wall.

“Because it’s a resolution?” Troy replied. “Alex, have you found a…”

Alex hit the last square and there was a soft click. A door sized one-inch depression appeared in the wall. Alex cursed.

“Our exit is covered…” She started.

Troy punctured the depression with the knife from his mini-tool. The small blade stuck in the dry wall. Pulling a nine inch bowie knife from its sleeve on his leg, Matthew held the larger knife up to Troy.

“Now, this is a knife.” Matthew gave his best Crocodile Dundee.

“Don’t start dissing my mini-tool or…”

“OLIVAS. MAC CLENAGHAN.” Alex jumped down from her chair. “Knock it off.”

Mumbling, ‘He started it,’ the men cut the dry wall around the door. Raz grabbed pieces and threw them off to the side. They revealed a metal sliding door.

“Hutchins? Tell the Jakker we’ll be five minutes,” Alex said.

Vince relayed the message to Alex’s Sergeant then disconnected her pocket computer.

“Gas masks. Check to make sure your oxygen is working. Check the person next to you.”

The men put on their gas masks then checked each other.

“Special Forces first,” Alex commanded. “Prisoner in the middle. Agent Rasmussen and Captain Hutchins and I will take the back.”

Sliding open the metal door, Troy revealed another concrete door. He groaned. Alex swatted him out of the way. There was a combination lock on the door. She opened the padlock then stepped aside. Matthew and Troy pulled open the door.

“Everyone. Guns out. We do not know what we’ll encounter. Let’s make certain we are on guard.” Seeing Jessie ahead, she said, “Ok. Go.”

Alex put on her mask when Matthew and Troy ran down the tunnel. Raz checked her oxygen. Reaching a turn, Troy ran ahead. Matthew signaled for the Weasel and his guards to enter the tunnel. Alex watched their backs as they moved down the tunnel. Raz nudged Alex into the tunnel.

They heard the sharp report of machine gunfire.

“Go,” Alex yelled.

Raz and Vince ran down the tunnel. Using all her strength, Alex yanked the cement door closed then reset the lock. Running down the tunnel, she found Raz waiting for her. They ran together down the rest of the tunnel.

“They were shooting so Zack would notice them.” Raz shouted through the mask. “They are going up on wires.”

“Can you make a wire?” Alex asked.

“No other option,” Raz said.

Alex shook her head at his usual response to his back pain. She opened her mouth to ask again about his option to have surgery then realized it was pointless. He was going to do what he was going to do.

They slowed at the entrance. Troy and Matthew had hacked enough space to step around the enormous Cottonwood tree trunk that grew over the tunnel’s entrance. On fire, the tree dropped flame and ember in the opening. Raz stepped a leg through the opening. Pressing his chest against the smoldering tree trunk, he shifted to pull his other leg through.

His back seized. With Alex pushing on one side, and Vince pulling on the other, they managed to get him through opening.

When Alex stepped, her left hip cramped. Vince pulled her through the opening. They stood in a small clearing surrounded by burning timber. She pointed to the wire. Vince clipped himself to the wire and went up with Raz.

Her forgotten ear bud squealed then began working.

“Heya Alex,” Zack said. “I’ve got everyone. You gonna hike out?”

Alex waved up to him. She saw movement in the passenger compartment and Troy slid down with a wire. Hooking her to the wire, he wrapped himself around her.

“To what do I owe this pleasure,” Alex yelled through her mask.

“Lost a bet,” he laughed. “Your hip’s off. I didn’t think you could make the wire.”

She smiled her thanks. At the passenger compartment, the men pulled Alex and Troy into the compartment. They piled their gear and masks into a cargo container then took their seats.

“Where to?” Zack asked through the intercom.

“Super Max,” Alex replied. “We’re taking this one home.”

“WAIT!” The Weasel screamed.

Troy pulled the helicopter door closed and the men clicked into their seats. Following Alex’s lead, they ignored the Weasel protests. The helicopter flew across Southern Colorado then slowed as they approached the United States Penitentiary Administration Maximum Facility.

“Last chance,” Alex said. “Talk now or forget it.”

The Weasel motioned her to sit next to him on the helicopter. She responded by forcing him to sit next to her. Untaped and undocumented, for the remainder of the trip, the Weasel told Alex everything he knew about the murder of the Fey Special Forces Team. When the helicopter landed, the Weasel’s mouth closed. Without saying another word, he and his guards left the helicopter.

“What was that?” Raz asked.

Alex shook her head. Buckling into her seat, she stared out the window at the dark clouds of the snowstorm.

What was that indeed?

FFFFF

Two hours later
Tuesday Night
March 25 – 7:30 P.M. MDT
Military Intelligence, Buckley Air Force Base

Alex waited until the last of the men checked through medical before returning to her office. She sent her Sergeant home, shut off the phones then began filing out the stack of paperwork on her desk. Every assignment came with at least one stack of papers. This year, she and the men had completed one stupid assignment after another until the paperwork towered on Alex’s desk. Flipping on her coffee maker, she settled in for a long night.

The coffee maker had finished its last burble when a coffee mug entered her line of site. She looked up to see her boss, Colonel Howard Gordon. He was wearing a dark cap and his overcoat as if he stopped by on his way home.

“I was surprised you didn’t look up when I came in,” he said. “Fascinating paper work?”

“Oh…” She sighed. “I fill in the boxes while I think about something else. I was miles away.”

He sat down across from her.

“How did it go today?” he asked.

“Which part?”

He laughed.

“You might have missed the reports, but there was an incident while attempting to interview the Weasel.” Alex shrugged. “I know you’re busy.”

“Yes, Major. I missed entirely the destruction of a national wilderness area.”

“I guess that’s not funny,” she said. Holding up a stack of pages, she added, “But it does provide for some excellent paperwork opportunities!”

“You have a Sergeant to do your paperwork,” he said. “You have a second in command. Hell, you have an intelligence officer in training who has nothing to do.”

“Oh shit, I completely forgot about him,” Alex said. “Is he still locked away at Fort Carson?”

“He was released by Captain Mac Clenaghan. While you were with Agent Rasmussen at the hospital, Captain Mac Clenaghan drove to Fort Carson for Sergeant Flagg. They are on their way to Denver right now.”

“Oh, thank God,” Alex said. She took a long drink of her coffee. “See, my second in command can’t do the paperwork. He’s busy with Flagg.”

“Major Drayson.”

“Yes sir,” Alex said.

“How did it go with your team?”

“What team?” Alex asked. “They fought with each other. They thought I was crazy. I had to yell at them to knock it off more than once. They were like competent tornados each working toward their own end. I… “

She shook her head.

“I suck,” she said. “I can’t do this ‘command a team’ thing.”

“Every leader feels that way sometimes,” Colonel Gordon said. “You need to get your feet under you.”

“I was wondering, sir, if I might join a team?”

Colonel Gordon’s scowled. This was not the first time he had heard this request.

“I’d happily take a lower rank and…”

He opened his mouth to say something then changed his mind. Shaking his head, he looked away from her.

“There are two wars going on, sir,” she said. “I’m an okay intelligence officer. And as you know, there’s more than a hundred people held hostage in the world at any given time. I could join the team that replaced us and…”

“Alexandra Hargreaves!”

“Sir?”

She scanned his face. His bushy eyebrows betrayed his worry over his obvious anger. She smiled as if he caught her with her hand in the cookie jar. He sighed.

“Maybe I could go back to drawing maps?” She gave him a big smile.

“Alex.” Pulling his cap off, he ran a hand through is bushy gray hair. “Every leader goes through exactly what you’re feeling. Hell, I’ve had many sleepless nights over this very same issue. The key is to find what works for you.”

“Charlie was so…”

“Charles O’Brien is dead, Alex,” Colonel Gordon said. “He was an exceptional man, a natural leader, and my friend. But he is gone. You have to learn to carry on without him.”

Nodding, Alex pursed her lips to keep from displaying her desperate grief at the words: ‘Charles O’Brien is dead.’

“Listen,” Colonel Gordon said. “I’m sorry. I see so much potential in you and wish you could see it yourself. You collected these men from assignments around the world. They came to here to work with you. Each man is the best soldier in his class. Period. And they aren’t easy. You didn’t pick them because they were easy. You picked them because they were your friends. And they left great assignments to work here with you.”

“But sir…”

“They’re pains in the ass. Every single one of them. Did you hear the feed from the Jakker while he waited for you? He disobeyed a direct order to return to base. A big fat ‘fuck you’ from the Jakker.”

“Are their repercussions to his defiance?”

“Christ, Alex. That’s my point. Everything the Jakker does is defiant.”

Alex shrugged.

“It might help if you filled the other slots in your team with neutral players,” Colonel Gordon said. “You still need…”

“No Marines,” she said. “I’ve never had good luck with Marines, sir.”

“You need at least one more Navy and two Marines. That’s not to mention your glaring lack of medics.”

“See, I suck as a leader.”

Alex tried her ‘please-sir-can-I-stop-doing-the-job-I-suck-at’ smile. Colonel Gordon glared in response. Her smile faded.

“The Fey Special Forces Team’s first year was not easy, you know.”

“But we had…”

“Charlie,” they said together.

“Yes,” he said. He softened. “Listen, I’ve never known anyone who has continued working after what you have been through. Most people retire.”

“I could retire,” she said. “Ben said he’s retiring this year. I could…”

“You know you cannot retire,” he said. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I could draw maps.”

Her eyes lit up with glee at the idea of retreating into the solitary joy of cartography.

“The Admiral would like you to return to extracting hostages. You’re supposed to be…”

“Creating a team that will extract hostages around the world,” Alex finished his sentence. “Problem is? I suck.”

“Alexandra.”

“Ok, you know what I’m really good at?” She pointed to the paperwork on her desk. “Paperwork is my specialty.”

Colonel Gordon raised his hands in submission to her sarcasm.

“What do you need to make this work?” he asked. “I’m authorized to give you any resource, training…”

“I need Joseph Walter,” she said. “He would know how to pull this team together. You’re right. We need to a few neutral members. He’d know how to choose the right people.”

While Colonel Gordon nodded his head, he eyes spoke his remorse.

“But?” she asked.

“It’s complicated. Fort Carson had dibs on him for their training staff. He can’t come here and be there. You know that.”

Alex nodded. She did know that. She just hoped for the help she needed. Sometimes she felt as if she was set up to fail. She sighed at her no-win situation.

“Don’t give up, Alex,” he said. “That’s really what I came in here to say. Everyone struggles, especially their first year. Just don’t give up.”

Picking up his cap, he stood to leave. He stopped in front of a photograph of the Fey Special Forces Team goofing for the camera. The photo was taken after they had rescued their first hostages – five journalists from the jungles of Central America. Colonel Gordon leaned closer to look at their faces. They seemed so young and happy. He stepped back from the photo.

“What did the Weasel have to say?”

“Nothing. Everything. Who knows?” Alex replied. “There are so many little itsy bitsy pieces to this puzzle. Somehow they fit together, but how? I have no idea how to connect the dots.”

“Perses was there? I always thought he was a myth or legend.”

“Perses accepted a contract to assess the viability of a hit on the Fey and the Weasel. He led us to Shelter 17. I probably could have found it but not in time. Plus he had the key.”

“Odd behavior for an assassin.”

“He owes me a favor or six. And, yes sir, he’s odd.”

“Well good night,” Colonel Gordon said. “We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Alex, go home. You’ve done enough today,” he said. “Let Sergeant Flagg become an expert in paperwork.”

“Yes sir,” she said.

He raised a hand in ‘good-bye’ then walked out of her office. Looking from stack to stack, she finished her mug of coffee then poured another. She wandered to the place where Colonel Gordon stood. Her finger touched each face.

“Go home, Alex,” Jesse said appearing beside her. “There are no answers here.”

Nodding to Jesse, Alex dressed in her winter gear. Limping on her injured hip, she pulled her office door closed.

“Walk you to your car?” Jesse asked.

She nodded.

“Did I ever tell…?”

FFFFFF

Tuesday night
March 25 — 9:40 P.M. MDT.
Fillmore Auditorium
Denver, CO

John and Max were watching the roadies finish setting up for DeVotchka.

“Remind me. Why are we here?” John yelled to Max over the background music.

Max raised his eyebrows. He nodded his head toward the Slavic Sisters. The women trapeze artists were testing their aerial silk cloth.

“Yes, very interesting,” John nodded. “But…”

John felt a hand on his shoulder. He grimaced to Max then turned to see who touched him.

“Hi John,” the woman said. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

John tried to remember the woman’s name. She worked at St. Joseph’s Hospital or at least he thought she worked at the hospital. She spent so much time pushing her inflated chest and lips in John’s direction that conversation was nearly impossible. Too polite to actually dismiss her, he avoided her as much as possible.

“I heard your wife is out of town.” Her tiny hand caressed his arm. “When I saw you here, I figured you were looking for some company.”

John stepped away from the woman. She bat her long eyelashes at him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Max laughing at him.

“Listen,” John started but his words were lost over the trumpet playing announcing the start of the concert. His attention jerked to the stage. Maybe if he ignored this woman…

While the band played their first song, the Slavic Sisters vibrated the aerial silk to the music. The silk tapestry billowed down from the stage hitting John’s face. He stepped back to stay out of the way. The trapeze artist winked at John then flipped the fabric from his face.

Smiling her crooked smile, Alex stood in its place.

In a breath, she was in his arms. She giggled when he lifted her from the ground. She wrapped her legs around his middle, their lips fused in passionate consumption.

When John pulled back to look at her, DeVotchka’s lead singer, Nick, yelled, “Drayson, get a room!” The crowd cheered in agreement.

With a nod to Max, John carried his laughing Alex through the crowded venue to Colfax Boulevard. He set her down for a moment then instantly regretted the decision.

“The cab’s waiting for us,” Alex started.

He lifted her back into his arms and carried her to the cab. Nestled in the back of the cab, they took the short ride to their new home. John scooped her off the sidewalk and carried her into the house. They kissed and stroked their way up the stairs until, unable to wait any longer, they made fast love on the third floor landing.

“Wanna try out the bath?” Alex asked.

“Very much so. But the water’s not hooked up to it yet.”

“What?”

“It’s a long story. Shower?”

“Bed?”

“You’re so traditional,” he said.

Opening the door to their bedroom, they were hit with a blast of cold air.

“NO HEAT?!?”

Alex ran to jump under the covers.

“You weren’t due back until tomorrow.”

“Lemme guess, long story?”

“I know how to warm you.”

Slipping under the covers, he did just that.

F

Learning to Stand is the second novel in the Alex the Fey thriller series
written by Claudia Hall Christian.

The novel is available in paperback at Amazon, our store, your local library and bookstore.
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com,
StoriesbyClaudia.com and AlextheFey.com.

Join the Alex the Fey Facebook Group

How to look like you’re a member of the Fey Team

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER NINETY
Saturday morning — 1:20 A.M.

Sandy opened the door to her condo apartment and took a deep breath. She’d always loved the smell of her very own home. Even after being closed up for so many weeks, her home still smelled safe. That’s how she had felt first time she’d stepped into the condo – safe and at peace. She sighed. She needed safety and peace this morning.

Tomorrow, her Godfather’s daughter would move into the condo for the summer. Seth hadn’t asked. Instead, his daughter Elizabethe (not Lizzie like she used to be called) had telephoned and begged her for a room in her condo. Now eighteen years old, Seth’s second daughter from his second marriage wanted to see if she could forge a relationship with her father the summer before she started college. Sandy had agreed to let her stay for three hundred dollars a month. Of course, Sandy had set the terms when she thought she had access to Aden’s money to help cover their expenses.

Luckily she liked to work. But not today. At the hospital last night, she’d called all her scheduled clients to cancel their appointments. Today, she would sleep until two, maybe three.

Sandy checked the guest bedroom where Lizzie, no Elizabethe, would stay. She put fresh sheets on the bed and made sure all of the kids’ stuff was out of the closets and cabinets.

Delphie had been to the condo when Sandy was in the hospital after getting shot by her father. Delphie had packed up Sandy’s clothing, cleared out the refrigerator, and got the flat ready for Sandy’s stay at the Castle. She’d even arranged for Rosa and her team to clean the condo top to bottom. Looking around her home, Sandy saw tokens of Delphie’s usual love and care.

Delphie. Beloved Delphie.

Sandy felt too tired, too raw, to continue thinking about the woman. Instead, she checked the refrigerator out of habit. She took a box of Girl Scout cookies from the freezer and sat down on her couch. She was already late to see the kids. They would have to wait another fifteen minutes while Sandy ate a few frozen Tagalogs in peace.

For a moment, Sandy missed her old carefree life. A year ago, she was single, able to do what she wanted, and unencumbered. She hadn’t met Noelle or Nash, the children who now thought of her as their mother. She hadn’t been on even one date with Aden, her baby’s father, current resident of the Colorado Department of Corrections hospital ward. She wasn’t a business owner and she had plenty of spare money. She was free last year.

On a night like tonight, Sandy might have gone clubbing or spent the evening with a handsome man for dinner, drinks, and an uncomplicated romp. She might have had a girl’s night of drinks, make up, and laughter with Jill, Heather and Tanesha. Or she just as easily could have spent the entire night trying to perfect the flaky crust of a delicate French pastry.

But this morning, she was pregnant, exhausted, and late to get her boyfriend’s children from her best friend’s mother. Sandy put her sore feet on the table and leaned into the couch’s comforting embrace.

She’d spent the last two nights at a hospital. One night at Aden’s bedside and last night waiting for news about Delphie. Tonight, Aden was still in a medically induced coma. He and Pete would be moved to Canon City hospital ward in the morning.

And Delphie…

Sandy’s eyes welled with tears.

Somehow, Delphie had survived the horror of yesterday. Dr. John Drayson came to tell them that the surgery had gone well. He said there was extensive bleeding but somehow there was only minor brain damage. He gave Jacob a lingering look then shrugged. Dr. Drayson knew there was some funny business going on, but he was too polite, too British, to ask. He went on to explain that the doctors had filled the aneurism with platinum coils. The coils protected the area from breaking or leaking. Delphie would need follow up care for the rest of her life but she was healthy overall and should recover with minimal lingering effects.

Only Delphie’s immediate family, Jacob, Valerie, and Sam, were allowed in the ICU. They were each given five minutes before they were escorted back to the waiting room. There was nothing anyone could do for Delphie now.

Or Aden for that matter.

Except wait.

And pray.

Jill and Sandy promised each other they would go to the Cathedral today to light candles for Delphie and Aden. Maybe the Holy Mother would save them. Sandy never felt all that confident in the Holy Mother’s abilities. Still, she felt better when she asked Mary to help her. Maybe Mary would help Delphie and Aden if Sandy got Jill to ask.

Sandy sighed again.

She needed to get to the Castle. Noelle and Nash were waiting for her. She was supposed to follow Jill home when she took this detour. She had needed a moment to herself in her wonderful home.

And some Tagalogs.

Sandy looked inside the box hoping there were twenty hidden cookies inside. She shook the empty box and set it down.

“Mother Mary,” Sandy said out loud. “Please help the ones I love to recover.”

The peaceful silence of her beloved condo echoed back to her. She almost expected Cleo, her black and white cat, to jump up on her lap.

But Cleo, and the children were at the Castle, where Sandy should be. She was grateful for a moment of peace.

“Mother Mary, thank you for sparing Delphie and Valerie and Aden and Pete. Thank you for helping me survive to see these busy days.”

Sandy felt a little better. She was grateful Delphie, Valerie, Aden and Pete survived. She was grateful she survived everything. She just wished she had a few more cookies. Her cell phone rang with the latest Miley Cyrus ringtone courtesy of Noelle. Shaking her head at the ringtone, Sandy answered.

“Hey Jill,” she said. “I wanted to change the sheets before Lizzie comes tomorrow. I know when I sleep, I’ll sleep all day. She’s supposed to be here in the morning.”

“Elizabethe,” Jill exaggerated the ‘beeth’ then laughed.

“Yeah,” Sandy said. “Her.”

Standing from the couch, she gave her condo one last look. She shoved the empty box of cookies and moved toward the door.

“The girls are here,” Jill said. “Heather brought the lovely Mack. He’s sound asleep. Can you believe it? He didn’t wake up in the ride over. Remember how Katy was when she was this age?”

“She didn’t sleep more than an hour until she was almost two,” Sandy laughed at her own memory of Katy’s infancy. “Didn’t want to miss anything. That’s Katy.”

“Heather says after the evening run, he sleeps until 3 A.M.”

“Wow,” Sandy said. “Maybe I’ll get lucky like that.”

“What?” Jill said to the voices in the background.

“We’re wondering if you will make us some…”

Jill put her hand over the phone. Sandy heard her ask, “What do we want?” She heard Heather and Tanesha say something. Jill laughed in response.

“Mostly we just want you to come home,” Jill said. “We’re in the loft. Noelle and Nash are crashed out in the guest bedroom. Cleo’s looking for you.”

“I’ll be right there,” Sandy said.

She closed the door to her home and went down the hall.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday morning — 3:45 A.M.
The Castle

Jacob crept across the open loft space. Jill and her friends were asleep in the sitting area near the fireplace. The empty wine bottle and pan of brownies indicated that they had a girl’s night. Jill and Sandy were so grim when they left the hospital; he hoped the wine, brownies and company helped.

He smiled. Sound asleep, the women were draped around each other like some romantic oil painting. Jill was sitting near the end of the couch with Sandy’s head in her lap. As he approached, Sandy’s eyes opened. When Sandy shifted off Jill’s lap, Jill opened her eyes. She turned to look at Sandy and Sandy pointed to Jacob.

Jill stood to hug Jacob. Sandy gave them a wave and lay back on the couch.

“Come to bed,” Jacob whispered in Jill’s ear.

Jill nodded. He took her hand and led her across the loft. He closed their bedroom door.

“Bath or bed?” he asked.

“Bath,” she said. “How’s Delphie?”

He gave her a soft smile. He led her through their bedroom to their master bathroom where he filled the tub. He gave her the bath salts then went out. When he returned, she was waiting for him in the tub. He plucked off his clothing and stepped in across from her. His knees pressed against the tub and hers rested against his knees. He smiled. For that moment, sitting in the warm scented water with his love, everything in his world was right. He kissed the palm of her right hand in thanks.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Dad, Blane and Valerie are staying at the hospital,” he said. “I’m home to close Lipson for the day. I have about an hour before I have to work.”

Jill reached back to get a washcloth.

“I’d like to spend the time with you,” he said. “If that’s all right. I know your friends are here but…”

“I’d like that.”

Jill smiled one of her beautiful smiles. A flush ran all the way through him. She giggled at his reaction.

“How… I mean, when…?” he asked.

“The healing thing?” Jill asked.

Nodding, his eyes tracked the washcloth moving across Jill’s skin.

“I’ve been able to do it all my life. Everyone in my family has some healing in them. I’m the strongest or at least stronger than Mama. Mike’s not as strong as Mama, but he was able to keep those soldiers alive when they were hostages.”

“Mike?” He took the wash cloth from her. He indicated for her to twirl around. She slid between his legs. “That’s just weird. When did Mike get any healing power?”

“Ever notice how Mike never really gets hurt?” Jill asked. “He plays hockey hard, but he’s never injured. He even has all his front teeth. How many hockey goalies have all their teeth?”

“He has those scars on his head and face,” Jacob said.

Jill nodded.

“Oh, you mean, the injuries must have been very severe for him to have those scars,” Jacob said.

Jill nodded.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jacob said. “Why didn’t you heal me?”

“When you were injured?” Jill asked. “I did. I mean, I did what I could for you. Remember the compression dressing?”

“The doctors said it saved my life.”

“It was kind of an accident with you, Honey and Katy. Today… no yesterday was the first time I’ve done it intentionally since my Dad died.” Not wanting to talk about her father, she rushed on, “It’s some genetic thing. It’s why my grandfather rose so fast in the Russian Mob. He’s supposed to be gifted. Mama thinks I’m stronger than he is, but I’ve never met him. We used to do it as kids. When my Dad went… crazy, we’d heal the bruises, broken bones and stuff. On Mama too. Sometimes I think he allowed himself to get so crazy because he knew we could heal it.”

“And the little prayer?” Jacob caressed her with the washcloth.

“Take in this healing with love, for the best use of your soul and body,” Jill said. “It’s something we said as kids. We did it yesterday out of habit, mostly.”

She tipped her head back and he kissed her lips.

“You’ve said that your powers are stronger when I’m around,” Jill said. “It’s probably this thing. Or that’s what Katy said when we were in the Chapel.”

“Katy,” Jacob said. “How is Katy?”

“Asleep, but happy. She and Paddie ate all kinds of cookies and cupcakes and chocolate. Mama said they kept everyone entertained by running in circles and giggling. They’re very happy right now.”

“So am I,” Jacob said.

For a brief moment, his heart filled with the joy of Jill. Reality dropped in a moment later. He sighed.

“Tell me about Delphie,” Jill said. “It was awful to come home and not have her here. The downstairs is a wreck. I… Tell me about Delphie.”

“She’s stable,” Jacob said. “She seems to have turned a corner or that’s what John said. There is some brain damage but they aren’t sure it wasn’t there before. It’s centered around areas of reality testing. They asked us if Delphie ever thought she ‘saw things like ghosts or spirits.’ We laughed after they left.”

“Sounds like good news,” Jill said.

“I guess so. They’ll keep her a couple days, but she should be home by Monday or Tuesday,” Jacob said. “Dad’s a wreck. He’s sure the whole thing is his fault. He says he should have killed Johansen when we saw him in Leadville.”

“He wouldn’t have survived,” Jill said.

“Probably,” Jacob said. “Do you think we’re together because…”

“Delphie told me once that people like us are drawn to each other,” Jill said. “When I was helping her, I heard her say that she tricked you into creating Katy.”

“Huh,” Jacob said. “She probably did.”

“What does that mean?”

“She was the connection to the project in California. She had a friend who wanted an ashram or something like that,” Jacob said. “Totally out of our scope and place. Val and I had to go to see it to vote against it. That’s how I got to California.”

“We should go back,” Jill said.

“We should,” Jacob said.

Standing from the tub, he grabbed a towel from the rack.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“I only have a half hour more…” he said. Still damp, he pulled the sheets back on the bed and wagged his eyebrows at her. “You promised to heal me.”

Laughing, she hopped from the bath to follow him to the bed.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday afternoon — 3:45 P.M.

“Are you all right?” Mike asked.

They were walking down Eighteenth Street. Delphie was still unconscious. Jacob was sitting with her while Sam went home to shower. Blane was holding down the fort in the waiting room. Mike had been bugging Valerie to eat for hours. After Blane promised to call if anything changed, she finally agreed to leave the hospital for food.

“I’d rather have dessert,” Valerie said. “If I have to eat, I’d rather have dessert.”

Valerie felt as if the roots of her very existence had been ripped from the ground. Delphie was her anchor, her long roots into the soil allowed Valerie to take risks and live. They turned down Humboldt Street toward Seventeenth Street.

“There’s a place here,” Mike said. “Next to Strings. D Bar. Oh crap.”

A car screeched to a halt beside them. Four paparazzi photographers jumped from the car. The camera’s whirred and the flash popped. Mike put his arm around Valerie to protect her.

“Where you going Val?”

“What’s going on Val?”

“How are the babies, Val?”

“Hey Mike, is she wearing your pants? They’re pretty big.”

“Show us your baby bump, Val!”

“Why are you in Denver, Val”

The questions flew as fast as the flash from the cameras. She smiled and waved.

Turning on left on Seventeenth, they scooted into the D Bar.

“Are they for you?” the Maitre d’ asked about the photographers.

Valerie nodded.

“Do you want them in?”

Valerie shook her head.

“Easy.”

The Matire d’ informed the photographers that they should leave. As if to accentuate her point, a Denver police cruiser pulled up in front.

“Thanks,” Mike slipped the woman a twenty dollar bill.

They were escorted to a two person table near the back. Mike held Valerie’s seat then came around to sit across from her.

“Sit next to me,” Valerie said. “Please.”

Mike moved next to her on the bench. She held his hand.

“I’m so sorry about the baby, Mike. I wanted to give you babies… a boy to play hockey with and… I….”

Her large hazel eyes filled with tears. Mike put his arm around her. He kissed her cheek. Retrieving a clean handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped her eyes. She took the handkerchief from him.

“Where did you get this?” she asked. “I made a mess of your other one.”

“Jake brought me two clean handkerchiefs,” Mike said. “Just figured I’d need them.”

Valerie gave a soft smile for her brother’s lie about his psychic abilities.

“I’m sorry about our baby too,” Mike said. “Feel caught between gratitude for the miracle that you’re alive; joy that we still have a baby girl to look forward to meeting; and heartbreak over losing our boy, our son.”

“Feels crazy,” Valerie said.

“Feels crazy,” Mike said.

“I called the producers. They are giving me next week off to be with Delphie and get checked and stuff. They want me back, but are being nice about it. My agent said they are really happy with my work.”

Mike’s big rough hand cupped her soft cheek. He smiled into her face.

“We need to sleep, recover. We’ll see our doctor on Monday,” Mike said. “I say we celebrate the short life of our son, our daughter on the way, and your precious life.”

“I need to grieve, Mike,” Valerie said. “And eat some chocolate.”

Mike signaled the waiter.

“Please bring us every chocolate dessert you have in the house,” he said. “And some water. Hot tea for Val. Something herbal. We’re pregnant.”

“Congratulations sir, ma’am. I’ll bring that right away.”

Valerie smiled.

“What?”

“I love it when you take charge,” she said.

~~~~~~~~

Saturday evening — 5:45 P.M.
St. Joseph’s Hospital

“Sam.”

Or at least that’s what he thought he heard. Sam moved from the chair by Delphie’s bed to sit on the bed.

“I’m here,” he said.

Delphie opened then closed her eyes. Hoping she might wake up, he waited for a moment. The doctors thought she’d be awake by now. Every passing minute she remained asleep, her prognosis got worse. He sighed and moved back to his chair. He must have imagined her voice.

“Sam?” He heard five minutes later.

He moved back to the bed. Delphie’s eyes were open and she seemed alert.

“Where am I?” she whispered.

“St. Joe’s,” he said. “Do you remember what happened?’

“I remember Levi.” Delphie shivered and closed her eyes. “Awful.”

“He’s dead,” Sam said.

Delphie looked surprised.

“I’m sorry. I know how much he meant to you.”

“Did Jacob kill him?” she asked.

“Jill,” Sam said. “Although the coroner said he was riddled with cancer. He probably wouldn’t have survived the week. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. We still haven’t figured out how the security system failed.”

“I doubt it did,” she said. “He would have been able to get around it. Everything but the dogs. Can’t trick a dog. They would have kept him away. I should have remembered that. I thought they’d be happier if they went to the groomers all together than if they went by themselves.”

“They’re at home waiting for you,” Sam said.

“Home.” Delphie’s voice echoed with longing. “I’d like to be home.”

“Tomorrow or the next day,” Sam said. “You’ve been very ill.”

“I died,” she said.

“Listen,” Sam said. “I’ve had a lot of time to think and I’d really like to marry you while we still have time left.”

Delphie laughed.

“Why is that funny?”

“Because you’re Celia’s husband. What would Celia think?” Delphie asked. “Plus I like the idea of you being my super hot boyfriend. Gives me a little thrill.”

“Celia would want us to get married. You’ve told me over and over again that she wants us to be happy.”

“You are a sweet man,” Delphie said. “What I can’t figure out is why you can talk to me. Did you gain some psychic skill?”

“Me? Psychic skill? Not a chance,” Sam laughed.

“You must have gained some,” she laughed.

“Why?”

“Because I’m dead!”

Denver Cereal continues next week…

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of Denver Cereal, the beginning, and Celia’s Puppies.
Like printed books? Go here or Amazon for a print copy of the Denver Cereal;
Go here or Amazon for the recently released Celia’s Puppies.
Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER FOUR

Raz threw himself on top of Alex. They fell backwards in her chair just before a particularly violent explosion. The lights in the room flickered, sparked then went out. The room shook. Every chair fell over. The mortar made a tinkling sound as it fell onto the concrete floor. A portion of the ceiling tiles crashed onto the table. The hot air filled with cement dust and mortar.

And somehow, the room remained intact.

“Was that for me?” the Weasel yelled over the explosions. He belly crawled until his face right next to Alex’s. “They want me dead.”

“Yes,” she said.

“I thought… I thought the explosions were for you or these guys or the weirdo the guards didn’t know or…”

“OK,” Vince yelled. “That’s probably it.”

“I…” The Weasel shook his head back and forth.

“Call!” Alex yelled.

“Hutchins.”

“Olivas.”

“Mac Clenaghan.”

“Rasmussen.”

“Drayson,” Alex finished. “Guards.”

“Here.”

“Your prisoner is over here.”

Through the dark, a circle of light from a head light came in their direction.

“Jeez, I knew it,” Troy said. “Do you guys ever take a break? Any chance you have, you’re humping away.”

He reached down to help Raz up.

“That’s you, Troy,” Alex said.

Midway up, Raz’s back seized in spasm. Raz let out an involuntary gasp. Troy set him down next to Alex.

“You know? That is me,” Troy said. “Mattie, I could use a hand here.”

Another headlamp circle of light moved across the dark room.

“I love the ladies,” Troy said.

“All ladies. One at a time,” Alex, Raz, Matthew and Troy said together. They laughed.

Matthew took Raz’s other arm.

“Can you stand?” Matthew asked. “Alex, do you have your pill packet?”

“Yep,” Alex said.

Alex rolled to sitting. Digging through her pockets, she found the packet of pills John insisted she carry with her. She gave the packet to Matthew.

“Ready?” Matthew said.

With Matthew and Troy supporting him, Raz stood. He shifted back and forth then nodded. Troy and Matthew let go. Raz tried to take a step but was unable to.

“Maybe you should sit for a minute,” Troy said, “Collect your thoughts and all.”

Alex righted a chair and the men helped Raz into the chair. Matthew gave Raz a couple anti-inflammatory pills and a pain pill from Alex’s packet. He offered one to her but she shook her head.

“I need a report,” Alex said.

“What about me?” the Weasel asked.

“Guards?” Alex asked. “Can you stay with your prisoner?”

“Yes, Major.” The guards helped the Weasel back to a chair then stood with him.

“Olivas? Where’s my feed?”

“MAJOR!?!?” A man’s voice boomed over the room’s audio system.

“Sergeant?” Alex asked.

“I was able to hook up everything, but the connection wasn’t working,” Troy said. He walked with her over to where he’d hooked her pocket computer to the phone lines. “The last explosion must have connected the wires.”

“Major?” Alex’s Sergeant asked. “I can hear you talking but I can’t tell what you’re saying. Cheyenne Mountain reported a ping from Shelter 17. I informed them you reviewed the shelters last week.”

“Sergeant? Can you hear me now?” Alex moved over to the phone.

“Oh, thank God,” her Sergeant said. “Colonel Gordon is here as well. He’d like a report.”

“Sir, we were taken to Shelter 17 prior to explosion. The explosions began while we were in the stairwell. Outside of minor injury, we are all accounted for.”

“And that little weasel?”

“He and his guards are present.”

“Well done, Major,” Colonel Gordon said.

“Sergeant, the last explosion seems to have knocked out our power. Can you ask Cheyenne Mountain about back up power?”

“Major,” Colonel Gordon said. “We have a report from the Jakker. The last explosion caused extensive damage to the mountain. He’s hovering right over Shelter 17 and believes he can see the door. We are sending a team into the area.”

“Sir, we experienced an explosive chain. Let’s wait to be sure. If we get power…”

There was a mechanical hum. The lights flickered before coming on. Climate control kicked in and the room began to cool off.

“Power and climate control,” Alex said. “Thank you, Sergeant.”

“Cheyenne Mountain has control of the room. They needed to know how many people to control the oxygen flow. They say there’s MREs near the front of the room. Do you remember where to find water? Latrine? Field protective masks? Oxygen?”

“Yes, Sergeant. Thank you.”

“We’ll wait to hear from you,” Colonel Gordon said. “In the meantime, sit tight.”

“Sir?” Alex’s Sergeant asked.

“Yes, Sergeant.”

“I will stay at base so you don’t have to rely on back-up assistance. You can reach me when you need me.”

“Thank you, Sergeant,” Alex said. “Oh, and Sergeant?”

“Yes, Major?”

“What happened to Sergeant Flagg?”

“He’s at Fort Carson bossing everyone around.”

“Can you relay a ‘knock it off’ message from me?”

“Yes Major. They have locked him in a room. Will that do?”

“Yes Sergeant,” Alex said. “Thank you.”

Alex turned around to see all of the expectant faces. In each face, she saw competence, intelligence, and arrogance. They’d wanted to work for her. They’d each jumped at the chance to stand right here with her.

And she had no idea what to do next. The familiar ache and annoying longing for Charlie returned.

“We sit tight,” she said. “Raz, what’s our oxygen supply like?”

“The room is set up to generate oxygen from the atmosphere,” he said. “As long as we have power, we have oxygen.”

“Matthew, what did Cheyenne Mountain say?”

“The mountain is on fire from the explosions. The forest service is flying to put out the worst of the fire before it spreads. They believe we’ll have snow soon.”

“How much snow?” Alex asked.

“A lot,” Matthew replied. “Couple of feet at the minimum. The Jakker is in the air over our site. He’s waiting to get us but, the snow…”

“He can’t fly in a blizzard. We either risk the fire or wait out the snow storm. Any idea of how long that might be?”

“Three days.” Matthew looked away from her. He crossed his arms then looked back, “Probably five.”

“Five days of snow?” Alex asked.

“We’re over 10,000 feet.”

“Ok, what are you not telling me?” Alex asked.

“Vince and I checked the door while you were talking to base.”

“And?”

“We’re buried. I don’t know what Zack sees or thinks he sees…”

“And that means?”

“I estimate we’ll be in this room for at least a week,” Matthew said. “Maybe longer.”

“I’m not spending a week in this room,” Troy said. “I have a date tonight.”

Alex tugged on her hair in irritation. What would Charlie do? Exhaling, she chose to go back to basics.

“We go step-wise. I need an assessment of our supplies. Do we have enough food and water to sustain us for a week or more? Cheyenne Mountain has environmental control. Next step is food. Troy, can you look for medical supplies? We may need those.”

Matthew and Troy set to work at their tasks. Alex sighed. At least if they were working, they weren’t bitching.

“Major?” Vince asked. “I was able to use your pocket computer to hook into the base computers. Your Sergeant helped me re-run our models. I believe we’ve seen the last of the major explosions. It’s possible there is one more pocket of methane about ten miles from here.”

“Houses?”

“Still wilderness. Thank God. I also have live feed from Zack. I can project it. Would you like to see it?”

Alex nodded.

The screen at the front of the room lit up to show the horrifying destruction. The mountain had been ripped apart by the blasts. The pine forest was engulfed in flame. What had been old growth forest and meadow was now barren rock, dirt, dust and fire. Forest Service planes dropped water onto the fire.

Matthew and Troy moved to stand next to her. Raz stood behind Alex. Stunned by the devastation of pristine wilderness, they couldn’t tear their eyes away.

“These are explosion sites,” Vince walked to the screen to point to areas of forest. “I would guess we’ll find explosives at every site we chose. We won’t know for sure until we check, but I’d bet a hundred bucks they were set off by hand.”

“Because of the delay?” Alex asked.

“Right,” Vince said.

“We have a leak but it’s not within our group,” Matthew said. “We’re looking at someone with a lot of money and access to our… computers?”

“Or theirs,” Raz said. He pointed to the guards. “You report your location?”

“Yes sir,” The guard said.

“Your life insurance is paid up?” Troy asked.

Alex turned back to the control panel table and her pocket computer.

“Sergeant?”

“Yes, Major?”

“Can you ask the Jakker to check heat and radar for people? While you’re at it, can you send the satellite feed… uh…?”

“Heat, motion and visual,” Raz said.

“Did you get that?”

“Yes Major,” her Sergeant said. “What are we looking for?”

“People. I’d hate to meet shooters on our way out of this room.”

“Yes Major.”

“Also, can you start the paper chain for a quiet check of our other sites?”

“Yes, Major.”

“Thanks.”

“Major?”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Alex said.

“Your father called. He asked me to tell you, ‘eeny, meeny, miny, moe’.”

“Yes, thank you, Sergeant, “Alex said.

Alex closed her eyes. Unable to deal with the expectation on the men’s faces, she turned away from them.

What the hell did her father mean?

“Major?” Vince asked.

Turning toward him, she saw the satellite imaging on the screen.

“Can you and Raz work with that?” Alex asked. Walking toward the east wall, Alex pointed, “The latrines are here. Water is located…”

“It’s here with the MREs,” Troy said.

“Thanks. I need a moment,” Alex said. Matthew moved toward her but she shook her head. Smiling to reassure him, she said, “Need to think.”

Taking a bottle of water from Troy, she walked to a chair near the back of the room. From her location, she watched the men work with the satellite imaging. She was so lost in thought, she didn’t notice Jessie until he spoke.

“Boo.” He laughed when she startled. “I always wanted to say that.”

She smiled at him.

“Bet you wondered where I’ve been,” he said.

She nodded while taking a drink of water.

“I was bored with being stuck in rooms.”

She laughed. Jesse had been her constant companion last fall.

“Eeny, meeny, miny, moe?” she mumbled into her water bottle.

“Walls. Count the walls. You’ve forgotten.”

She shrugged her ‘What else is new?’

“Two ways in and two ways out?”

She looked at him.

“You’re right,” he responded to her look. “The second exits were determined to be security risks in the 1980s. They were cemented in. But remember who made these rooms?”

Alex smiled.

“I found a tunnel, but I can’t figure out how it connects to the room.” Noting the smile on Alex’s face, he said, “I figured you’d know how to find the door.”

She stretched her neck side to side to indicate her lack of certainty.

“Well, Zack is confident you will get out. He’s been ordered to return to base, but he hasn’t gone. The winds are picking up so he’ll have to leave soon.”

Alex nodded. She glanced at Jessie.

“You’re welcome,” he said. “Better get going lazy butt.”

Taking a drink of water, Alex walked from wall to wall. Each wall was supposed to be marked – eeny, meeny, miny, moe.

Dropping her head back, she noticed a diamond with four boxes drawn into the cement near the ceiling. Walking from wall to wall, the diamonds were repeated. Every diamond shape had the same four letters within the square – E, M, m, M. The letters rotated around the diamond. The south wall had an ‘E’ in the square at the upper point of the diamond. A capital ‘M’ held that position on the east wall. North wall’s diamond had a small ‘m’ at its point where as the west wall had another capital ‘M.’

Eeny, Meeny, miny, Moe.

The exit was in the north wall.

“Ok,” Alex said. “Let’s pack up and get out of here. The Jakker isn’t going to be in the air much longer. We need to get going.”

Every face gawked at her. She smiled.

“To answer your question, Captain Mc Clenaghan,” Alex said. “These rooms were built in the early 1930s. As you can imagine, there was a tremendous political unrest during the Depression. The rooms were designed to hold portions of the government for an extended period of time. There’s one in almost every state. The rooms are connected via telephone and wire. The government could run in hiding.

“Although the Army Corps of engineers designed the rooms, they were built by individual contractors. In most cases, they were built by people who had experience covering their tracks.”

Alex looked from face to face. She saw only skepticism. Raz’s face pinched as if she had lost her mind.

“The rooms were built by bootleggers!” Alex smiled. “They knew the rooms would never be used. The bootleggers built then used the rooms to store alcohol. Remember, Prohibition was the law during the Depression. They found forgotten cases of bourbon when they remodeled in the 1980s.”

“Troy, I need you to distribute the field protective masks; the ones with the mini-oxygen tanks. Vince? Can you make sure everyone is hydrated? Matthew? Will you tell Cheyenne we are getting out? Guards? Secure your prisoner for transport. Remember, the forest is on fire!”

Raz was about to intervene when she said, “Get moving! That’s an order.”

F

Learning to Stand is the second novel in the Alex the Fey thriller series
written by Claudia Hall Christian.

The novel is available in paperback at Amazon, our store, your local library and bookstore.
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com,
StoriesbyClaudia.com and AlextheFey.com.

Join the Alex the Fey Facebook Group

How to look like you’re a member of the Fey Team

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE

Friday evening — 6:15 P.M.

Delphie almost collapsed with relief when Johansen released her. In the last few hours, he had been brutal with her. She wasn’t sure if the old man was getting careless or simply didn’t care if he hurt her. At one point, she wondered if he wanted to destroy her psychic capacity. Her mind and body felt battered and bruised.

Jacob’s vortex, the vortex she’d taught him to make just two month’s ago, brought further relief. She was safe! She was finally safe! Like standing behind an opaque crystal, she could only make out the vague, blurry images of Jacob and Johansen fighting.

Then BAM! The explosion in the Chapel rocked the very foundation of the Castle. Her heart pounded with fear. The Chapel had been her spiritual home since Celia bought the Castle for her. Even though Celia assured her that Katy was not inside, Delphie couldn’t calm her racing heart.  Something awful was going to happen. She just knew it.

Watching through the opaque vortex, she made out Johansen and Jacob fighting. She’d never expected Johansen to be so out of control. For the life of her, she couldn’t understand what he wanted.

“That’s because you refused to believe he wants to kill every Marlowe,” Celia said. “You have to believe there’s some good inside him.”

Delphie nodded. She had to believe there was some good inside him. After all, he’d been her protector, the only father she’d had from the time she was six years old until Celia saved her when she was sixteen. In some ways, she loved him. If he was pure evil, what did that make her? Was she evil of her connection to him?

Delphie saw the short blurry person moving carrying the enormous stick move toward Johansen.

“That’s Jill,” Celia said. “You must have gotten through to Jill.”

“Not me,” Delphie said. “Must have been Katy.”

They watched Johansen fall. The blurry figure bent over Johansen and the vortex collapsed.

At that moment she felt a tearing, ripping sensation in her mind, her eyes filled with the most spectacular light.  The beautiful orange, yellow and white light consumed all thought and feeling.

She heard herself scream. The light blocked out the figure of Celia. She vaguely heard Celia calling for her. She felt her body fall to the floor.

Surrounded in the gorgeous light, Delphie felt no pain, no loss, only joy. She was enraptured. Life slowed to a stand still and the light grew from within her and around her.

She felt soft hands on her head.  And Jill entered the light.

She smiled at Jill. She even said hello. But Jill couldn’t hear her. Jill looked worried, frightened even. Delphie tried to tell Jill not to be afraid of the light.

“Please don’t leave.”

Jacob. She heard his voice. She’d said those words to him when he was inside his mother. Don’t leave. She’d repeated them all of his life and now he was saying them back to her.

Couldn’t he see the light? Why wasn’t he with her inside the light?

Jacob was her child. The one she loved the most. The child she’d saved from certain death. Even Celia, who loved him completely, said he was really her child, her son, her prodigy.

Why couldn’t he see the light?

From her position in the light, she watched Johansen’s soul leave his body. Unnoticed and unloved, he simply moved on. No one would miss him. No one would even know he’d lived. There were no bee hives to tell that he’d died. No garden that would go to seed. No tears, no grief, no loss. He was simply there one moment — alive and evil — and gone the very next moment. Like dust, his soul dissipated on the wind.

Filled by the joyous light, she waved to him. Good-bye old man. May your next life be filled with joy.

Where was Celia? Why couldn’t she see Celia? She called for her best friend by her earth name – Celia! She called for her by her soul name – Naomi. Come join me in the light.

She felt a desperate longing for Celia.

And for Sam. Where was Sam? Sam would love this light. Sam would tell her all the colors and laugh at her confusion. Where was Sam?

And Katy? Where was the child she thanked the Goddess she lived long enough to meet? The baby she’d tricked Jacob into creating. Katy would never exist if not for her intervention. Where was her Katherine?

Alone.

She was desperately and completely alone.

Even the beautiful joyous light couldn’t take away the horrible knowledge that she was completely and totally alone.

Where were her dogs? She longed for the touch of Scooter’s fuzzy ears or to hear Sarah big bark or to feel Buster’s wet nose. They should be here, right here, with her.

In that moment, longing for the touch of the dogs, Delphie realized that she was dead. She’d died on the floor of the Castle. Delphie was overcome with grief.

She had loved life more than anyone else she’d ever met.

And she was dead.

There would be no one to pray for her transition. She’d have to make it on her own.

Alone.

Forever.

Until life or good will or some beautiful Goddess or powerful God would allow her to know Celia, Sam, Jill, Katy, Jacob, Valerie and Mike again. She keened with grief for the loss of her own precious life.

A figure appeared on the horizon.

Who are you?

Are you an angel?

Can I stay to say one last good-bye?

Please.

I haven’t seen Valerie or Mike. And my dogs will miss me. And I need to visit my bees. They will disperse if I don’t go and say good-bye.  And what about my gardens? They haven’t been turned for the early spring. The grass will overtake them and in a few months time they will disappear.

Please. May I spend one day or one month or maybe a year in my Castle?

Don’t make me leave the Castle and all the people I love.

Please don’t make me leave.

The angel laughed. The laughter was like crystal bells on some far away church. The sound shattered the light like loud sound waves through glass. The world came into view.

“Sleep now,” the angel said. “You are safe.”

And Delphie slept.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 6:55 P.M.

Jill shook her head.

“I can’t… She’s having a stroke. I can’t stop it.”

Jacob wrapped himself around Delphie’s body and whispered in her ear:

“Please don’t leave.”

Jill did the only thing she could think of doing. She put Delphie’s head in her lap and placed her hands around Delphie’s ears. Maybe she could keep the damage from getting too severe. She blew light and love into broken and bleeding arteries. Jill didn’t have the heart to give up.

She couldn’t give up.

She wouldn’t give up.

Her entire focus was on Delphie’s brain and the blood seeping from her arteries. Out of a corner of her eye, she saw Jacob shift, then felt hands on her shoulders. Her brother Steve and sister Megan put a hand on each of her shoulders. With their touch, they pumped their meager healing energy into Jill.

Her capacity rose. And still it was not enough to save Delphie. This precious woman was beginning to fade.

Jill felt the jolt of her sister Candy touching Megan’s shoulder and Mike joining Steve. The siblings funneled all of their capacities into Jill.

And it still wasn’t enough.

“Are you ready, Jilly?” Jill heard.

She nodded. Her mother, Anjelika grabbed Delphie’s feet. Mike and Candy touched her mother’s shoulders. The family made a healing circle around Delphie’s prone body.

The power surge was tremendous. Jill could almost smell her senses burn like bread left too long in the toaster. Her ears roared with the sound of Delphie’s blood and the power pouring through her body. Jill held on tight.

She felt the tide shift. The blood began to seep backward. The torn artery began to heal.

“We must stop,” Anjelika yelled. “The police are on their way.”

Two at a time, her siblings let go. Mike and Candy first. Megan and Steve next.

“1-2-3,” Anjelika yelled.

Anjelika and Jill let go at the same time. They rose to standing. Anjelika took Mike and Candy’s hands. Jill took Steve and Megan’s hands. Steve took Mike’s hand and Megan completed the circle by taking Candy’s hand.

“Take in this healing with love, for the best use of your soul and body,” they said in unison.

Crying, Valerie took Jill’s place at Delphie’s head. Valerie caressed Delphie’s head and hair. She kissed Delphie’s cheek and pressed her own face to the cool skin.

“She’s breathing,” Valerie said through her tears. “Oh God, she’s breathing.”

“What are we going to do with…?” Jacob said over Johansen’s body.

“Children,” Anjelika said.

Jill moved to Johansen’s body. Sitting down, she placed her hands on his head. The wound, created by the hockey stick, diminished leaving only small gash where he’d hit the floor. His shoulder healed to full use.

“Go,” Anjelika said.

Steve and Candy touched Johansen’s body. Mike and Megan followed.

“What are you doing?” Jacob asked Jill.

“We’re releasing the negative effects of the healing into his body,” Jill said. “For every positive energy, like healing, there is a negative energy, like illness. If we dabble in one, we get the other. Rather than take it into our own bodies, we are releasing it into his.”

“Your turn, Jill,” Anjelika said.

Jill put her hands on Johansen’s abdomen.

“You will tell them that this man entered your home and took Delphie hostage,” Anjelika said to Jacob. “You believe he’s a friend or old friend of Delphie’s but you don’t know. You confronted him. He fought with you, breaking everything, then blew up the Chapel. Startled by his own explosion, he collapsed and hit his head. When he did, Delphie screamed that her head hurt and fainted. He might have done something to her, but you’re not sure.”

“That’s it?” Jacob asked.

He bent down to help Jill to standing. He wrapped her in his arms.

“Yes,” Anjelika said. “Delphie will need a hospital and surgery.”

“And Val?” Mike asked.

“She should be all right, but you need to do what makes sense to you.”

“I’d rather stay with Delphie,” Valerie said.

“Get cleaned up,” Anjelika ordered. “Go now.”

Mike helped Valerie to her feet. They ran toward the door and up the stairs to Jacob’s bachelor studio. Not two minutes later, the Denver police ran into through the Castle through the side entrance. The paramedics arrived moments later. After stabilizing Delphie in the living room, she was off to St. Joseph’s with Valerie at her side.

The Police department’s noise and confusion brought Sandy and the kids from the tunnels. Jill and Sandy took Noelle, Nash, Paddie and Katy upstairs to the loft. Jill’s family arrived moments later. Anjelika and Sandy set to work on a pot of chili and corn scones. Dinner was almost ready when Valerie called from the hospital.

Mike had asked their friend Dr. John Drayson to act as their liaison. Dr. Drayson said the doctors had diagnosed Delphie’s aneurism. The aneurism was significant and on the verge of bursting. They must operate immediately or Delphie would surely die. As it was, her chances of surviving the surviving were limited. Dr. Drayson agreed to attend the surgery to keep them apprised on what happened.

When Anjelika agreed to stay with the children, the rest of the group left for a long night at the hospital. Sam arrived just after they descended on the OR waiting room.

Unaware of all that had gone on that day, Sam said: “I told her to take care of her blood pressure”  then broke down. Jacob and Valerie held their father until Sam was able to regain some control. Blane arrived moments later with warm turkey sandwiches, fresh chocolate chip cookies, and coffee. The group ate and waited.

No one dared mentioning the obvious. Delphie had always waited in these rooms for them. Delphie was there for every operation, broken bone, or illness. With her prayers, spells and incantations, Delphie was their cornerstone of hope for every hospital visit. With her crazy bottle red hair tied up in a knot, Delphie would say, ‘No need to fret. The Goddess loves us.’

Now Delphie’s life hung in the balance.

Together, Jacob, Jill, Sam, Valerie, Mike, Blane, and Sandy waited through the night for news from the surgery suite.

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of Denver Cereal, the beginning, and Celia’s Puppies.
Like printed books? Go here or Amazon for a print copy of the Denver Cereal;
Go here or Amazon for the recently released Celia’s Puppies.
Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Previous Chapters

CHAPTER THREE

Raz hesitated. Alex reassured him by putting her hand on his elbow. He looked into her face then nodded. They followed the man toward the forest.

“That’s Perses.”

The apparition of Alex’s best-friend Sergeant Jesse Abreu appeared beside her. Alex nodded her head slightly. As usual, Jesse continued in Spanish:

“The Weasel is completely freaked out, Alex.”

Alex glanced in his direction.

“Something weird is going on, but I can’t tell what. Ever since those Homeland agents arrived, he’s become more and more anxious. Perses has been with him the whole time. I think he’s guarding the Weasel. Funny thing for a no fingerprint, no name assassin to do.”

Alex raised her eyebrows. Used to speaking out loud with Jesse, Alex could only communicate with facial gestures. She signed ‘the guys’ in American Sign Language.

“The guys are following you in the forest,” Jesse said. “They’re tracking the GPS signal in your hip. In this forest, they could be six feet away and you wouldn’t see them. But I can.”

Alex smiled at his ‘so-there’ laugh. Jesse had been her best-friend since the first week of basic training. Their lives intertwined, they had been each other’s constant companion through Bosnia, Special Forces training, and the Fey Special Forces Team. In the doorway to the vault in Paris, he died with his head on her lap. His reappearance in her life was a gift. Especially now.

“Larry’s a little prick,” Jesse continued his update. “He’s bossing people around, making them get him coffee. But I guess you can hear him on your ear bud.”

Alex nodded.

“Anyway, Zack’s ready to go. I’m going back to the Weasel.”

Jessie disappeared.

“Any idea of how far we are going?” Raz asked.

Perses turned to look at him. He nodded his head to Alex. He gave Raz an eerie smile then continued hiking.

“There’s a bunker a quarter mile from the location,” she said. “It’s not marked on any map, but is the reason this is a no-fly zone. I think that’s where we’re going.”

Raz knew better than to be surprised. Every plan had three or four side journeys. When he started working with Alex, he’d tell her she was wasting time on these side ventures. She’d smile and nod. But time and time again, the simple complexity of her plans saved them.

The farther away from the circle of light, the noisier the men became. Through their ear buds, Alex’s second in command, Captain Matthew Mac Clenaghan, asked if they should take out the man they were following. She made no indication she heard them.

They slowed at a slight hillside. A clear dirt path continued in front of them. But Perses turned to the right into the dense forest. He went about six feet then stopped.

“Take them inside,” Perses said to Alex. His voice was straight out of British ruled Africa. “I’ll get the prisoner. We’ll talk when I get back?”

Alex nodded her head.

Perses moved to touch Alex but Raz stood in the way. The man gave an unearthly smile, turned in place and ran off into the dark.

Alex raised her hand. Matthew, Troy and Vince emerged from the forest. With a nod, she walked until she reached a large granite formation. Rounding a forty foot high boulder, Alex slipped through a gap between the boulder and the dirt.

“Head lamps,” she ordered.

She pressed against the dirt walls of the natural cave. Certain she’d lost her mind, the men gaped at her actions.

“These bunkers were built in the late 1920s… early ‘30s… around the time the stock market crashed.” She pushed on a wall. “This is it. Mattie? Troy? Can you stand on the right here? Raz? Vince? Over here? It’s going to take all of us to move this.”

“What are we doing?” Troy asked. His voice echoed his suspicion that she had lost her mind.

“Oh. Sorry. In the movies, there’s some complicated mechanism at the entrance to these places. They aren’t. There is a sliding metal door under this dirt.”

“So we dig?” Raz asked.

“No. No one was sure what or who would use these bunkers. They determined that a single person should be able to get into a bunker. When Army engineers designed these bunkers, they made them accessible for teams of at least twelve men. Damn the politicians, kind of thing. I’ve heard the entrances are some combination of easy and hard.”

“Who put these together?” Matthew asked.

“Let’s see if we can get in,” Alex said. “I’ll tell you about it when we get inside.”

“What do we do?” Vince asked.

“The doors slide one way or the other. Each one is a little different.”

“On my count… One, two, three,” Matthew said.

With Alex in the middle of the dirt wall, the men pushed to her right. They felt the wall shift as if it wanted to move, but couldn’t.

“Is there a lock?” Raz asked.

“Say ‘Friend’ and enter.” Troy quoted from the Lord of the Rings. In elvish, Troy said, “Mellon.”

“Mellon?” Alex raised an eyebrow.

“I assure you that ‘friend’ in elvish is ‘Mellon,’” Troy said.

Matthew, Vince and Raz clapped and Troy bowed.

“The last time anyone was in these bunkers was during the Reagan years,” she said. “Let’s try the other direction.”

They pressed on the wall again. To the men’s surprise, the dirt wall shifted.

“One more time,” Alex said.

The wall slid to the left, hit something then came bouncing back. Digging with her fingers, Alex removed dirt and rocks from around the door’s track.

“Try again.”

The wall slid to the left revealing a concrete door underneath. A single padlock held the door closed. Alex lifted the padlock then let it drop. She shook her head.

Hearing footsteps, the men raised their weapons toward the entrance of the cave. Perses, the Weasel and two Department of Corrections guards came through the opening. Perses held a padlock key out to Alex.

The key fit the lock but wouldn’t turn.

“Let me,” Raz said.

He wiggled, giggled and worked the key in the lock. After a few minutes, the lock opened with a resounding click.

“Cop luck,” Raz said.

“Thief experience,” Troy said.

“That too,” Raz laughed.

Alex pointed to Matthew, Troy and Vince. Straining against the weight of the door, the soldiers pulled open the two foot thick concrete door. They peered into the dark space on the other side of the door.

Alex stepped through the door onto a wide concrete platform. Her motion caused a series of lights to flicker then come on. The lights revealed a long concrete stairwell. Alex motioned the men into the stair well.

“I’m not going in there,” the Weasel said.

Laughing, Troy pushed the Weasel in front of him down the stairs. In quick order, the Department of Corrections officers, Matthew, Vince followed by Raz went down the stairwell. Alex nodded for Perses to go but he shook his head.

“The Fey left by helicopter,” Perses said in French. “But your Jakker is waiting for his Fey.”

“What’s going on?” Alex asked.

“There’s a natural gas field under this entire area.”

“It’s depleted,” Alex said. “There’s only CO₂ and some remnant methane. Oh.”

“Unavoidable explosion caused by a freak compression of the carbon dioxide.”

“Hit on me?”

“Two contracts from the Americas – your rodent and… The other contract is for the Fey. The contract specifies tattoos and…” Perses lips pulled tight in a grimace. “Female.”

“United States?” Alex asked.

“As far as I can tell… yes,” Perses said. “I’m here to assess accessibility of a contract on the Fey. But a number of people have picked up this contract.”

“How many?” Alex asked.

“A lot. It’s a rich contract. I’m sorry,” he said. “This one won’t be easily avoided.”

Alex grimaced.

”Also, you need to know. The Boy Scout is missing.”

“Dead?”

Alex’s voice lifted in joy. The Boy Scout had been assigned to the Fey Special Forces Team six months before they were killed. Incompetent, he was nothing but trouble for the team and particularly Alex.

“Missing. He made his last check in and caught a ride out of Afghanistan.”

“With whom?” Alex asked.

“No one seems to know how he got out of there. No one will notice he’s gone until his next check in.”

“He’s after me?” Alex asked.

“You have to assume so,” Perses nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”

She turned to look down the stairwell where the men had reached another door. When she looked back, Perses was gone.

“Can I help with the door?” Raz asked.

“Thanks,” she said.

Together, they pulled on the heavy concrete door. The door closed with a thunk. The lights flickered then went out.

“So we are in a B horror movie,” Raz said. “I wondered when the nameless one appeared. But this lights out thing? That confirms it.”

Matthew, Vince and Troy’s headlamps glimmered like stars in the pitch black.

“Hey Mattie? There’s supposed to be a light switch there.”

“Nothing here, Alex. We’ll come up.”

“There’s no room. I’m come down to you,” she said. To Raz, she said, “Stay here until we get lights.”

“I’m going with you.”

“We can’t see the stairs,” she said. ”Your back is bad enough without crawling down the stairs.”

He felt around until he was touching Alex’s shoulder. Tucked under his shoulder, she leaned into him. Her body shook against him.

“I hate the dark,” Alex whispered. “Every since being stuck in the room.”

He squeezed her shoulder.

“At least I have three days worth of practice in the dark.”

One at a time, Alex crawled down the stairs. She was halfway down the stairwell when the explosions started some distance from the bunker. As the explosions moved through the wilderness area toward them, she continued to work her way down the stairs. A major explosion overhead stopped her in her tracks. The concrete stairwell shook.

“ALEX!” Raz screamed.

She felt him fumble, slip then fall from platform above her. He slid down the staircase. Without thinking, she rotated on her side. Snatching at his movement, she caught the back of Raz’s Homeland Security jacket.

But she could not stop his descent.

With her left hip hitting the edge of every step, they bounced down the stairwell. Troy, Matthew and the guards caught them near the bottom.

“Raz?” she asked.

He groaned. Pushing herself to her hands and knees, her metal left hip seized.

“FUCK!”

Her voice echoed around the cement stairwell. The men reached to help her up.

“Wait,” Alex said. “My hip is out.”

Troy and Vince helped Raz to his feet. Raz groaned but managed to stand.

Alex hit at her left hip until the ball fell into its groove. With Matthew’s help, she pushed herself to standing with her right leg. Her left leg buckled but the hip held. She smiled as a way of easing Matthew’s concerns and her own fears.

“Let’s find the light switch,” she said.

She placed her hiking boot against the bottom step. Feeling along the wall, she found an indentation.

“I checked that,” Matthew said. “It’s empty.”

“Ok,” Alex said.

Pushing past the men, she went to the door. She felt around the edge of the metal door. Nothing.

“I need another light,” she said.

Troy set a black mini Maglite in her hands.

Returning to the indentation, she flashed the light around the drywall. Folding her hand into a straight fist, she bashed the back of the indentation. The drywall broke off in chunks. Alex stepped back for Vince and Troy to clear out the rubble. They exposed a keypad control panel.

“Anyone know any code?” Troy asked.

“It’s probably Mellon,” Vince replied.

Alex furrowed her brow at Vince. He shrugged. Shaking her head, she punched in a series of codes. There was a click then the door swung open causing a series of lights to go on inside a chamber. Machine guns ready, Matthew, Troy and Vince went through the door.

“Clear!” Matthew called. “It looks like a conference room.”

“Go ahead,” Alex said.

“No,” the Weasel said.

“There’s no other way out of this stairwell,” she said. “You heard the explosion?”

Her words were accentuated by another explosion within the mountain.

“That’s for you,” she said.

Raz pushed the Weasel into the room. The guards followed. Alex entered another code then scooted into the room. The Weasel’s guards helped her close the door. Alex stood at the door looking around the room.

A long dusty table sat with twenty plush leather chairs around it. A stage was set up near the front of the room. The best technology, circa 1983, was scattered around the room. A wide screen projector was set up near the movie screen. Microphones hung from the ceiling and the stage. At one end of the stage, there was a stationary television camera. Fresh film canisters were tucked into a shelf in its stand.

Attempting to take control of the situation, she began giving orders.

“Troy? I need you to find a data input. Remember we are looking for something from the 1980s. Thanks.”

“Vince? I need a full assessment of the methane panel of this region.”

“Methane?” he asked. Vince Hutchins was a Navy munitions specialist.

“They used the CO₂ to compress the methane field,” Alex said.

“Compress the methane then light the field,” he said. “Never occurred to me.”

“Never occurred to me either, but that’s what’s going on above. Can you run a…”

“I’ll do it,” Vince said. “And, sorry.”

“I didn’t think of it either.” Alex shrugged. “Matthew, I need you to determine how long we can survive in this room.”

“Raz? I need an oxygen panel. We’ll cook without ventilation but with all the carbon dioxide around, we can’t vent outside. This room should have oxygen tanks. Can you find them?”

The men hopped to their activities. The Department of Corrections guards sat the Weasel down in a chair.

“Troy, I need a telephone too.”

“I found a panel, Alex,” Troy said. “Over here. I’ll trace the phone.”

She jogged over the panel. Set on top of a small table, the panel was a mixture of 1920’s electricity and 1980’s technology. And the manual was… She bent under the panel to look for the manual.

“B horror movie,” Raz mumbled as he walked past her.

She held up the manual to Raz. He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s in French.”

She confirmed his suspicion. Like all bad movies, the documentation was in a foreign language.

He laughed.

She sat down to read the manual. Most of the panel managed lights and recording devices. With a flick of unmarked switch, she heard large metal fans begin to vent the room. Alex switched them off. Until they had oxygen to replace what was removed, they needed what they had. They were going to have to sweat.

She looked up when Troy’s shadow fell over the panel. He held a phone wire stripped to its four copper strands in one hand and his Leatherman Mini-tool in the other hand.

“I need your computer,” he said.

She dug her pocket computer from the back pocket of her jeans. He looked at the wire and the connection, and then set to work.

Alex turned her attention back to her manual. After testing all the climate control features, she sent a ping to Cheyenne Mountain to let them know they were in this room. Within minutes, she received a Morse code message back.

“I’ll do it,” Matthew said. He dropped into a chair next to her.

“My Morse code isn’t bad,” she said.

“Oh really? What did you get?”

“Um, they want to know who’s here?”

“Guesser,” he said. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Thanks,” she said.

Standing, she touched his shoulder. He looked up at her and winked.

After checking in with each of the men, she decided to use the time while they worked to speak with the Weasel now. She moved to the end of the conference table where the Weasel was sitting.

She held her Homeland Security badge up.

“Can I have some privacy?” she asked his guards.

The guards nodded then stepped away. She pulled a chair in front of the Weasel.

“Who are you?” the ex-agent said.

“I’m the Fey,” she said. She pushed up the left sleeve of her oversized jacket to show the blue Fairy tattoo.

“The Fey is a man,” he said. “Special Forces doesn’t train women.”

“Listen. I have about five minutes to talk to you. You can either use the time to tell me what happens in Special Forces, and then serve your full sentence. Or, you can answer my questions and get the reduction. It’s your choice.”

Alex felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she looked up into Raz’s grey eyes. She gave him a vague smile. He sat down next to her.

“Agent Rasmussen is going to tape our interaction,” Alex said.

Raz set up a digital recording device then gave Alex a clip microphone. Noting the Weasel’s shackled hands, he clipped another microphone on to his orange corrections jumpsuit.

“You’re not talking?” the Weasel asked Raz.

“No,” Raz said. “Go ahead, Major.”

“This is Major…” Alex fumbled for a moment before she remembered the fake name that belonged to her fake blond hair and fake blue eyes. “Major Alyssa Drayson. I’m in Shelter 17 speaking with…”

She rubbed her face to avoid saying his name.

“Are you ready to begin?” Alex asked.

“If you can do something about the heat. It’s hotter than hell in here.”

“Nothing can be done about the heat,” she said. “Explain to me how a decorated Secret Service officer, with almost twenty years in, winds up in the middle of an assassination attempt on the President of the United States?”

“I needed the money,” he said.

She shook her head at his answer. She let the silence lag to see if he would tell her more. He didn’t.

“How much money did you receive for killing my brother, my husband and my teammate?”

“I didn’t kill them.” The Weasel bristled as if she touched a sore nerve. “I could have, but I didn’t. This guy shot me.”

“I could have killed you but didn’t either,” Raz said.

Alex glared at Raz. He shrugged his apology.

“Was your contract to kill them?” Alex asked.

“Yes, as you know, my contract was to kill them in exchange for money.”

“What kept you from killing them?” Alex asked.

Shrugging, the Weasel looked away from her. Alex watched the man grapple with a decision. She hoped if she was silent long enough, he would tell her what she needed to know. But he wasn’t answering even the preliminary questions.

Alex reached to turn off the recorder when an explosion went off overhead. This blast was met with an equal detonation closer to where they were.

“That’s an explosion chain!” Vince yelled. “Everyone down!”

F

Learning to Stand is the second novel in the Alex the Fey thriller series
written by Claudia Hall Christian.

The novel is available in paperback at Amazon, our store, your local library and bookstore.
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com,
StoriesbyClaudia.com and AlextheFey.com.

Join the Alex the Fey Facebook Group

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT

Friday evening — 5:45 P.M.

Jacob stepped through the doorway and listened. He could hear Valerie screaming in the kitchen. Valerie’s pain and terror threatened to overwhelm his little brother self. He had to stay focused. He pushed away everything other than his singular focus – Johansen.

Cloaking his mind, he slipped off his boots and jacket. He knew he had only a few minutes before Johansen would be on him. He had to be ready for whatever came in his direction.

Then, as if placed there by some friendly god, he saw Mike’s hockey gear. With his eyes on Johansen, he picked up Mike’s hockey stick. He crawled forward to the bag. When Valerie screamed again, he opened the front pouch of Mike’s bag. He breathed a sigh of relief. Three pucks. With a silent prayer of thanks for Mike’s compulsive nature, he slipped a puck into each of the back pockets of his jeans.

Johansen sniffed.

“SHOW YOURSELF!”

Jacob hopped to his feet. In one fluid movement, he tossed the puck up and hit it hard with Mike’s stick. The puck flew through the air and hit Johansen in the forehead. When Johansen fell backwards, Delphie crumpled to the ground clutching her head. Johansen’s hold on her tore at her mind.

Rooting himself into the foundation of the Castle, Jacob used his power to push Valerie deeper into the kitchen. As Mike scrambled after her, Jacobslammed and locked the kitchen door. Slowly moving his right hand, he attempted to create a shield vortex around Delphie to protect her. Johansen asserted his hold over Delphie and she began to scream in pain. Jacob’s vortex collapsed onto itself.

“Mom!” Jacob called to Celia. He pointed to Delphie. “Go!”

Celia went to comfort Delphie.

Johansen was on his feet. He sent energetic tendrils around Jacob. Johansen’s mind searched Jacob’s body and soul for any weakness. Sloughing him off, Jacob dropped the hockey stick. He fought back with his mind.

Their battle began.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 5:45 P.M.

“Mommy?” Katy asked.

“Yes, Katy-baby,” Jill said.

They were snuggled together in the pillows near the back of the chapel. Paddie was curled up next to Jill. With Katy’s head lay on Jill’s lap, they spoke in quiet, intimate tones.

“Do you have a special power?” Katy asked.

“No, baby, I’m hopelessly normal,” Jill said.

“How come Naomi says you have a special power?” Katy asked.

“Naomi must be mistaken,” Jill said.

“But she says when you were my age you could heal things,” Katy said. “She told me when I was sick. She said you didn’t heal me when I was sick because you forgot you could do it.”

“Do what, Katy-baby?”

“Heal people. Animals. Stuff like that,” Katy said. “That’s what you’re doing when you help me with the dreams. You heal me. Daddy too. That’s why he’s gotten so strong.”

“I just love you Katy-baby. Daddy too,” Jill said. “When you have a dream, I love you back to me. I loved you when you were sick too.”

“Are you sure you never loved little animals, birds and squirrels the same way?” Katy asked. “Even when they were dead?”

Jill didn’t respond. Instead, she caressed Katy’s head hoping she would fall asleep.

“Mommy? Why won’t you tell me?”

“Oh,” Jill sighed. “It was a long, long time ago and I did something really bad. I promised myself I would never do that again. Never ever.”

Katy was silent for a while. They heard a something crash against the floor upstairs.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, Katy-baby,” Jill said.

“Why won’t you do it now? You did it when I had the bee sting. Remember when we were at that store and I was really sick? You did it for Auntie Honey. By her bedside.”

“If it happens now, it’s just a mistake or an accident.”

“But you would do it to save me?”

“I don’t think I can do it by choice. When you grow up Katy…”

“Naomi says you can. Would you do it to save Daddy?”

“Katy…”

“Would you do it to save Delphie? Or Auntie Valerie? Or Grand Mommy? Because Naomi says that you’re the only one who can save all of us.”

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 5:55 P.M.

When the kitchen door slammed closed, Mike jumped to his feet. Pulling and tugging, he dragged the solid maple kitchen table to block the door.  He closed and locked the door to the apartment stairs.  He pulled an armoire over to block the door. Certain they were safe as safe as he could make them, he turned to Valerie.

Valerie writhed on the floor. Unsure of what to do for her, he wrapped himself around her. He closed his eyes and willed his strength into her.

Until he saw blood.

“You’re bleeding,” he said.

“Babies, Mike. Babies are dying.” Valerie grunted.

Mike scowled. Picking up his cell phone, he dialed 9-1-1. No response. His phone wasn’t working. He shattered the phone against the wall. From his position on the floor, he snatched at the kitchen phone on the wall.

One try. Missed.

Another try. Miss.

Finally, he had the phone in his hand. No dial tone.

“Mike save my babies,” Valerie said. She passed out.

Mike lifted her into his arms. He carried her to the security panel. With his precious bundle in his arms, he was able to open the tunnel door. There was only one person who could fix this now. He only hoped she was hiding in the Chapel.

He carried Valerie into the tunnels.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 6:06 P.M.

Sandy pulled into the Castle driveway. Always vigilant, Sandy noticed the dogs didn’t come to greet her. Uneasy, she pulled forward to park behind Jill’s Lexus. At least everyone was here.

“We must be late,” Sandy said.

“Nah, dinner is at seven,” Nash said. “Bet Mrs. Valerie is already here. They’re probably already celebrating. She makes the party.”

“I don’t mind being late! I love love love love ice cream!”

Laughing, Sandy got out of the driver’s seat. She scanned the backyard for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing stood out. She went around the car to where the kids waited for her. They moved across the driveway toward the Castle.

“Sandy!” Jill called. “Sandy!”

“Sandy,” Noelle stopped and pointed to Jill.

They could just see Jill’s face over the edge of the building. She was peering out of a broken window in the chapel. Jill waved for them to come over to her. Sandy ran over to Jill. She dropped to her knees.

“What’s wrong?” Sandy asked. “What’s happened?”

“I don’t know,” Jill said. “Something is happening. Jacob made us go down here. He said we were in danger. We keep hearing crashes upstairs and people crying and screaming.”

Without hesitation, Sandy helped the kids into the Chapel. Noelle went over to Katy and the girls hugged. Noelle pulled a doll out of her backpack for the Katy to play with.  Not sure what to do with himself, Nash reached for Sandy’s hand. Sandy smiled at him.

“Would you mind checking on Paddie?”  Sandy asked Nash.

“You want to talk to Jill alone,” Nash said.

“I want to talk to Jill alone.”

Nash wandered over to Paddie.

“What’s going on?” Sandy whispered.

“I don’t know,” Jill said. “Katy says I have to… you know. She says it’s the only way to get through this… without everyone dying.”

Sandy nodded. The two close friends shared a long look. Jill shook her head.

“I can’t. Never again,” Jill said.

“Just because you didn’t save your father doesn’t mean…”

The women looked up as Mike carried Valerie into the Chapel.

“Please Jill, Valerie’s losing the babies. She’s dying,” Mike said. “Please. Please.”

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 6:15 P.M.

Johansen was weakening. To distract Jacob, Johansen began flinging random furniture and heavy objects at him. But Jacob was an expert hockey player. Avoiding a flying Tiffany lamp was no different than avoiding a hockey puck. Jacob jumped and weaved around the flying objects.

Johansen worked to open the kitchen door while holding onto Delphie. The three focuses – Jacob, Delphie and getting Valerie – were too much for him. The demon had to let go of Valerie but refused to let go of Delphie. Jacob heard Mike unlock the door to the tunnels. With any luck, Mike and Valerie were on their way to the hospital.

Jacob pressed his energy forward and Johansen stumbled. For a brief moment, Johansen let go of Delphie. Jacob to create a power vortex around Delphie. Celia flew at Johansen to distract him long enough for the vortex to solidify. The energy spiral burned bright white in the Castle living room. Delphie was safe from any energetic intervention. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Celia join Delphie inside the vortex.

Johansen screamed with rage.

“SHE’S MINE!”

He blew Jacob off his feet. Jacob flew backward. He hit the wall hard enough to knock a hole in the plaster. Johansen flew across the room at Jacob. Taking Johansen’s cue, Jacob took a hockey puck from his back pocket and energetically threw it at Johansen. The puck hit the man on the shoulder. Johansen’s shoulder broke with a satisfying crack.

Johansen reached out his energy to grabbed Jacob’s heart. Jacob deflected him.

“Smart enough to protect a weak heart!” The man gave a maniacal laugh.

Johansen tried to wrap his energy around Jacob’s heart again. Jacob threw the other puck at him. The puck went wild and bounced off the kitchen door. Johansen asserted his will. Decades of rage and prison induced hatred flew at Jacob. Tendrils of the man’s energy wrapped around Jacob’s heart.

Jacob gasped for breath. He fell to the ground.

“NO Marlowe will survive this day!” Johansen yelled.

Jacob reached up his hand. He crashed through ceiling into the second floor breaking Johansen’s hold on him.

“No matter. Time to kill the Marlowe child,” Johansen yelled after Jacob.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 6:15 P.M.

“I haven’t done it since…” Jill started.

“You have to try,” Mike said. “Valerie won’t make it to the hospital. The babies won’t make it. Please. Try.”

Jill felt motion next to her.

“You can do it, Mommy.” Katy’s words resonated inside her.

Jill dropped to her knees. Envisioning the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen, sunlight through of the archangel Raphael stained glass window, Jill let the light fill her. She rubbed her hands together.

“I…”

“Please try,” Mike begged.

Closing her eyes, Jill placed her hands on Valerie’s belly. Her mind flooded with images. She saw that one child was already dead. The other was alive and hanging on through the contractions. Jill used her breath to blow her healing light into Valerie’s womb. The contractions slowed. Jill directed the healing light to the dead baby but no spark of life was left to receive it.

Another Marlowe male had been killed by Johansen.

When the contractions and bleeding stopped, Jill let go. Looking up, she was surprised to see everyone standing around her. Little Paddie put his arm over her shoulder. Katy kissed her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Mike. You’ve lost a baby,” Jill said. “I couldn’t revive him.”

Valerie woke with a gasp. Clutching to Mike, she began to sob.

“She should be all right now,” Jill said. “I think I need to go.”

“Go Jill. I’ll stay with the kids,” Sandy said. “You can do this.”

Jill turned to run out the door.

“Mommy?”

Katy ran into her mother’s arms. For just a moment, all movement in their world slowed to a stop. The mother and child held each other tight.  Feeling pressure to leave, Jill let go. She set Katy down.

“Love you, Katy-baby,” Jill said at the same moment Katy said, “Love you, Mommy.”

Jill touched Katy’s hair one last time then ran out of the room. Jill ran down the stairs and into the tunnel. She made a sharp turn and jogged up the stairs to the kitchen door. She unlocked the security for the door. Running into the kitchen, she saw that Mike had blocked the doors to the living room.

Just then there was a crash in the living room. Something bounced off the kitchen door. Jill tried to move the table. She pulled and pushed but the table was too heavy for her. There was no way she was going through either of those doors.

She couldn’t get to the stairwell to go through her loft apartment. She couldn’t gain access from the second floor. She spun in place. She’d just have to go around. She pulled a key from a hook and unlocked the back door. She ran across the deck and around the house.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 6:25 P.M.

After looking around the Chapel, Sandy shook her head.

“We’re not safe here,” Sandy said.

“What do you mean? No one knows we’re here,” Mike said.

“There’s only one entrance that we can’t really lock. We can’t close off the window and if we did, there are other windows. No, we’re not safe here,” Sandy said. “I can feel it in my bones. Trust me. I’m no psychic. I’ve just been in this type of situation. A lot. Can you carry Val?”

Mike nodded.

“Anyone know of a better hiding place?” Sandy asked.

“There’s a wine cellar,” Nash said. He blushed deep red. “I’m not supposed to know anything about it.”

“I don’t know anything about it,” Mike said.

“Delphie wanted to get something from the tunnels. I told her I would get it but she said no. She was so weird that I… watched on the security tapes,” Nash said. “We were making dinner together a few months ago.”

“Have you been there?” Sandy asked.

Ashamed, Nash hung his head and nodded.

“Why don’t I know about it?” Mike asked.

“Do you ever cook?” Sandy asked.

“Never,” Mike said.

Sandy dug around in her purse and gave Mike some pills.

“Tylenol,” Sandy said. “Do we have water?”

“In the wine cellar,” Nash said. “Delphie keeps everything there. Cheese. Wine. Chocolates. Champagne and fancy water.”

“Let’s go,” Sandy said. “Nash, help Paddie. Noelle, help Katy. We have to move…”

The children ran from the Chapel.

“Fast.”

Mike lifted Valerie and carried her out the door. Feeling a little sheepish, Sandy closed the chapel door and followed the children into the tunnels.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 6:45 P.M.

“No matter,” Johansen. “Time to kill the Marlowe child.”

“NO!” Jacob yelled. He jumped from the second floor on top of Johansen. But he was too late.

The Castle rocked with the explosion. The entire wing bowed forward then backward. The hallway broke open exposing a doorway at the end of Honey’s rooms.

“The Chapel!” Jacob yelled.

Johansen gave another maniacal laugh.

Enraged, Jacob flew at Johansen. But Johansen was ready for him. Johansen threw a massive attack at Jacob’s injured heart. Johansen gave another maniacal laugh. Clutching his chest, Jacob fell to the ground. Johansen stepped closer to Jacob. The man’s entire attention was focused on destroying Jacob Marlowe.

“Stop that,” Jill said.

She swung the hockey stick with all her might. The stick hit Johansen in the back of his head. He stumbled and fell but did not release his focus on Jacob.

“Crazy old man,” Jill said.

Jill reached down to put her hand on the back of Johansen’s neck. She thought of the love that surrounded her from her circle of friends, her Katy-baby, Jacob, his family, her family, their family. She forced the healing light into Johansen.  She watched his anguish, black despair and desperate need for power wilt and turn to dust.

She searched for the good inside the old man. Somewhere deep inside, she found a tiny kernel of love. The rest had slipped away a long time ago. She opened her eyes to find herself touching a husk.

Johansen was gone.

Jill rushed to Jacob’s side.

“Katy.”  Clutching his chest, Jacob gasped.

“She wasn’t in the Chapel,” Jill said. “I looked in when I came around. The room was empty when he blew it up.”

She moved to touch his heart when Delphie let out a terrible scream. Delphie writhed on the floor.

“Go,” Jacob said. “I can wait.”

Jill ran to Delphie. When she reached for her, Delphie began to have seizures. Jacob rushed to Jill’s side. He held Delphie while Jill tried to soothe Delphie’s brain.

Jill shook her head.

“I can’t… She’s having a stroke. I can’t stop it.”

Jacob wrapped himself around Delphie’s body and whispered in her ear:

“Please don’t leave.”

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of Denver Cereal, the beginning, and Celia’s Puppies.
Like printed books? Go here or Amazon for a print copy of the Denver Cereal;
Go here or Amazon for the recently released Celia’s Puppies.
Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

CHAPTER TWO

Two months later
Monday early-morning
March 24 – 4:30 A.M. MDT
Denver, Colorado

“It’s weird, isn’t it?”

Alex lifted her head from the pillow to kiss her husband, John. Like most mornings, they started the day in each other’s embrace.

“What’s weird?” she asked.

“How everything can be the same.” His British accented words were punctuated with quick thrusts of his hips. “And still so different.”

She bit his ear. Even after thirteen years of marriage, she never understood why he started conversations in the middle of sex. He laughed at her ear nip reprimand.

“You mean the new bedroom? New house? New clothing? New…”

“Yes,” he said.

They moved into their new bedroom last night. She rolled on top of him.

“You mean everything,” she said.

“Yes,” he said. He kissed her lips. “Yet some things are deliciously the same.”

“Delicious?”

Her rhythmic movements caught his full attention. Sitting up to look at him, their eyes locked. His hands held her hips. They rose in intensity. She was very close when he said:

“I don’t want you to go today.”

She ignored him.

Pulling on his arms, he rose from the bed to wrap himself around her. She dropped her head back and let herself slip away to bliss. With a sigh, he followed her. Wrapped in each other’s tight embrace, they slipped through the waves of sensation. He kissed her neck and throat. She shifted to catch his lips. He moved on top of her again when the alarm went off.

Alex reached over to hit the snooze button.

“Warning bell?” he asked.

“It’s the finish-what-you-were-saying bell,” she said. She kissed his neck. “What’s going on, John?”

“God Alex, what do you think?”

“Vell,” she said in her best imitation of Dr. Freud. “I think your home vas destroyed by terrorists; you vere exposed as a member of the illustrious Kelly’s of the IRA; your vife vas held hostage, and…”

“Fuck’s sake Alex! This isn’t a joke! I don’t to be away from you again,” he said. “I spent an agonizing month in Scotland vhile my vife vas held hostage.”

She smiled at his imitation of her.

“And.…” Attempting to control his strong emotions, he blew out a breath. “I was awful while you were in Paris in January.”

“I was awful while I was in Paris in January,” Alex said.

“I have my General Surgery certificate already. I can work as a General Surgeon,” he said. “I’ll quit the vascular surgery program and go with you.”

She shifted so he could disengage. She lay on her side to look at him. Her eyes reviewed his dark curly hair and large cobalt blue eyes. Her thumb ran over his cheekbone. She leaned forward to kiss his lips. Her mouth less than an inch from his, she whispered what she had said thousands of times before:

“Your dreams are important to me.”

“I don’t care anymore, Alex. I only want you. That’s all. I don’t care about anything else.”

She pressed her fingertips to his mouth.

“We have five months left in your eight year program,” she said. “By August, you’ll be done. Let’s finish.”

They nestled together in each other’s arms until the alarm went off again. Moving off the bed, she held a hand out to him. She guided him to the spacious bathroom adjacent to their new master suite. Pulling him into the shower, she took them through shampoo and soap ending with blue fluffy towels. She left him in the bathroom to finish shaving.

Wandering into her barren walk-in closet, she put on the only thing hanging there: a solitary pair of jeans. She grabbed a T-shirt from the stack. He was tying his tie when she reentered the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, she watched him finish dressing.

This week he was stuck in a week-long class on the effects of advanced diabetes on the vascular system. Their drama of last fall forced him to miss this class. If he didn’t finish this class now, he wouldn’t finish his program. Period.

And she had orders to leave Denver in an hour.

She brushed his lips with hers in a quick kiss then adjusted his tie. Reaching for his hand, they went down a flight of stairs through the remodeling of their dilapidated hundred-year-old rooming house. The second floor walls were stripped down to the studs and the brick exterior. They turned the corner then continued down another flight of stairs to the kitchen, dining and living areas they shared with Alex’s identical twin brother Max and the rest of their family – Raz and John’s brother Cian.

The kitchen was the first room completed in their remodel. Alex checked to make sure the electric kettle was plugged in for John’s morning tea then poured herself a cup of coffee.

“Hallo brother!” Cian Kelly walked through the kitchen. “You’re here tonight, right? I understand there’s something called ‘March Madness.’ Thought we might get a pint at the Hound.”

Cian was now a part of their family after having appeared in the middle of last fall’s drama. He and his friend Eoin Mac Kinney opened a bakery near the end of last year. Thanks to good looks, thick Irish accents and great baked goods, the bakery was a success. Alex hugged Cian good-morning.

“I think that’s American football,” John said.

“Basketball.” Alex’s identical twin Max corrected. He and Alex pressed their foreheads together in their usual greeting. “You’re sport-free since Manchester United is out.”

“Don’t remind me,” John said.

“Manchester United! Where’s your loyalty to the Boys in Green?” Cian protested before moving toward the front door.

“Lost somewhere in the past,” John replied.

Cian opened his mouth to say something, and then laughed.

“Then a pint with me and the boys tonight? You in, Max?”

“Of course.”

“Wait! What boys?” John asked.

Laughing, Cian went out the door.

“See,” Alex said. “You already have fun plans.”

John gave her a curt nod.

“You’ll watch some b-ball and hang with the boys and…” Walking to the top of the basement stairs, she yelled, “RAZ, WE HAVE TO GO!”

“Ten minutes,” came from downstairs.

Raz and a woman’s muffled conversation moved closer to the stairs. Alex was closing the basement door when a woman dressed in crumpled clothing appeared on the basement landing. She wagged her eyebrows at Alex then turned to kiss a mostly naked Raz. His broad, caramel-colored muscular shoulders engulfed the woman in a hug. Stepping back, the woman stroked his taut abdomen then ran her hand along the waist band of his Levi jeans.

“Ten minutes,” Alex said.

Raz raised an eyebrow to Alex then opened the side door. He followed the woman out the basement door.

“I think …” Max started.

Alex looked at Max. Seeing she needed a moment, he stopped talking. She walked John to the front door.

“You’re late for class,” she said.

“Not quite. I love you Alexandra. Will you…” He looked away from her. “Please, say it.”

“I love you, John Kelly Drayson.” Alex touched his cheek. “Today and every other day for the rest of this life and any other I’m blessed with. Now you.”

“I love you, Alexandra Hargreaves Drayson, today and every other day for the rest of this life and every other I’m blessed with.”

He held her tight, kissed her cheek, and he walked out the door to his rental car. She went out onto the porch to wave goodbye.  Feeling movement, she reached for Max’s hand when he stood beside her. He took her hand.

“Leaving?”

“I’m in court all week. Messy contract stuff.” Max held up his briefcase as if all the mess was locked inside. “I have to get in early to meet with the client. You’ll be home Wednesday?”

She nodded.

Max’s eyes scanned her face. He nodded then set off down the street to catch the bus downtown.

Turning into the house, she watched the construction workers stream into the house from the back. To escape the noise and chaos, she took the stairs two at a time to their bedroom. She belly flopped onto the bed.

For most of their marriage, Alex traveled with the Fey Special Forces Team rescuing hostages around the world. She was home at least once every five weeks and six weeks in the summer. Even when she was home, there were times when John was busy with school or surgery. They spent most of their time away from each other.

Everything changed when her team was slaughtered in the storage vault under Paris and Alex was gravely wounded. After six months at Walter Reed Hospital, Alex came home to Denver. Limping, crutching until finally walking erect on a new hip, Alex and John lived together for the first time in their twelve years of marriage. Then everything fell apart last fall and…

Alex rubbed her face and sighed. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed. They would be together in a few days.

A few days.

Maybe she’d figure out how to tell him about the baby.

FFFFF

Twenty-two hours later
Tuesday early-morning
March 25 – 2:40 A.M. MDT
Somewhere over Central Colorado

“Alex, we’re almost there.”

Alex was sleeping with her head on Raz’s shoulder. Shifting to upright, she shook her head in an attempt to wake up.

“Sorry. Green Beret habit.” She smiled at him. “I sit down in a helicopter and bam, I’m out.”

“I know,” He smiled.

Standing to stretch his back, Raz’s Homeland Security identification badge fell from his waist band. When Alex leaned forward to get it for him, he snatched it off the floor.

“I know, I know, I’ll get it for the old man,” Raz said. “I’m only nine years older than you are.”

“It’s not my issue. I was encouraged to ass-ist you in those classes we had the pleasure of taking last month.” She cleared her throat. “A Homeland Security partner ass-ists his partner in tasks.”

“Very funny.”

“How is your back?”

“I’ll live. Would you like to go over your questions for the Weasel again?” Raz scowled then looked away. Turning back, his face softened at her smile. He winked. “Par’ner.”

“I think I’m ready. Thanks, Duke,” she replied.

He laughed.

They were flying in a Black Hawk helicopter over a remote region of Colorado. Alex was meeting with the Secret Service agent who shot Max, John and teammate Captain Joseph Walter at the two year memorial ceremony for the Fey Special Forces Team. The ex-agent agreed to share what he knew in exchange for a reduction in his sentence.

So far, the little weasel refused to speak to anyone except the Fey.

The male Fey, that is.

Like most people, the ex-agent believed the Fey was a male Special Forces Intelligence officer. The Fey could only be identified by a bright blue fairy tattoo under his left arm and the cursive green F’s that formed the tattoo band around his right arm.

The Weasel didn’t expect a tall, thin, bleach blonde haired woman with fake blue eyes. Alex snorted. He didn’t expect a dark haired, dark eyed woman either.

“Are you laughing at you own jokes?” Raz asked.

“I think I’m very funny,” she replied.

Raz smiled.

Colonel Gordon, Alex’s Military Intelligence boss, christened the Secret Service agent with the name ‘the Weasel’ and the name stuck. He was ‘the Weasel’ to everyone involved. At this point, his renaming was the only reason he was still alive.

And in a few minutes, she would find out what he knew about the murder of the Fey Special Forces Team.

It had been a full day: drive to Fort Carson to pick up Sergeant Larry ‘G.I. Joe’ Flagg; a three hour briefing; working through a molehill of Department of Corrections paperwork to discover a mountain of Military Intelligence paperwork; twenty phone calls looking for her men only to learn they were already en route to the meeting site; another push-the-food-around-her-plate meal; and finally a nap on the helicopter. Pulling on her T-shirt, she stood and stretched.

She felt filthy.

At least she looked reasonably clean. Rubbing her dry eyes, she walked forward to the cockpit. His head covered in a silver-blue helmet, Zack ‘the Jakker’ Jakkman leaned forward to click on the speaker.

“Welcome back,” Zack said.

The co-pilot nodded to Alex. He had been assigned as the Jakker’s personal slave in retribution for being nasty to Alex last fall. He detailed Zack’s car weekly, babysat his kids, cleaned his house, washed his laundry, made breakfast, lunch and dinner, and stayed up all night to ride co-pilot. For someone so mistreated, the co-pilot seemed very happy to be with the Jakker and the Fey. Alex curled her lip at co-pilot then turned to Zack.

“Thanks for the nap, Zack. Can we see where we’re going?”

“It’s right in front of us,” Sergeant Larry Flagg said walking from the back. “You can see the lights. Right there. We’re about ten minutes out.”

“That’s very helpful, G.I. Joe,” Zack said.

“Will you fucking call me Larry? God damn it,” the young man said.

Alex coughed into her hand to keep from laughing

“Is the Weasel there?”

“He was moved from Super Max to Cañon City Maximum Security this morning,” Raz said. “He left Cañon City about an hour ago. They landed with him about fifteen minutes ago.”

Through a pair of binoculars, she looked across the tops of dense pine trees to a clearing ahead. Five diesel fueled flood light towers creating a fifty foot circle of light in the center of a forest meadow. Deep black diesel smoke wafted into the cold mountain air.

“Are you wearing body armor?” Alex asked Larry.

Larry nodded.

She turned and looked at Raz. “Body armor?”

“Always,” Raz said.

Her face pinched at the uncomfortable feeling growing in her gut. Rubbing her stomach, she closed her eyes and opened them again.

Something was very wrong.

Or maybe she hadn’t eaten in a while.

Her insecurity and intuition fought a staccato drum beat in her head.

“Shouldn’t land,” her intuition said.

“Don’t blow it,” her mind spit out in response.

“Need to get out of here.”

“Chicken.”

Around and around the thoughts went until they reached their conclusion:

“If Charlie was here, he would know what to do.“

Shaking her head, she walked back to the passenger cabin. She strapped herself into a seat then closed her eyes.

“Sleeping?” Raz slipped his arm over her shoulder.

“Just thinking,” she said. “This whole thing… It doesn’t feel right.”

He nodded.

As the helicopter began to descend into the meadow, Larry dropped into the seat next to Alex.

“Would you mind going through it again?” Alex asked.

“We are meeting with the Weasel in an undisclosed, unmonitored location in order to get information regarding the Fey Special Forces Team murder,” Raz said. “As far as we know, there is an active threat to your life and to his life.”

“The brass said stay alive, spare no expense,” Alex said. “That’s why we’re meeting here and not at Super Max.”

“Right. We’re meeting in the most remote wilderness in the continental US.”

“Weminuche Wilderness.”

“Exactly. This entire region is set as a no-fly zone. Cheyenne Mountain is monitoring all activity. The area is only accessible by military helicopter or…”

“By hiking in a hundred miles,” Alex continued. “It’s too rugged for motorized vehicles or even civilian helicopters. And I selected this location less than eight hours ago.”

“Yes.” Raz smiled at the growing confidence in Alex’s voice. “The entire region was swept two days ago. It’s been locked down since then. The last sweep was…”

He looked at his watch.

“An hour ago. The Weasel, three prison guards, and a team from Homeland Security are waiting to speak with the Fey. They are expecting to meet with a thirty-year-old…”

“Thirty-three,” she said.

“Yes, thirty-three-year-old male Special Forces Intelligence Officer. You and I will be dressed in Homeland Security gear. They won’t know it’s you until we confirm safety. The guys were dropped about a mile from here. They should be on scene within the next five minutes. Your Sergeant is our communication point.”

Alex nodded her head.

“You have your pocket computer?”

Alex pulled the device from the back pocket of her jeans.

“Our ear buds?”

She nodded and gave him an ear bud communicator. Slipping the communicators into their ears, they were treated to the men’s assessment of women’s pubic hair. She took her ear bud out.

“And I’m going to pretend to be the Fey,” Larry said. “I would make a great Fey. I mean it’s a role, right? I have the walk down. I’m male. And…”

Seeing the looks on Alex and Raz’s faces, Larry shut his mouth.

“Never mind.”

“Where is Ben?” Alex asked.

“In route,” Raz replied. “He wanted to stay connected until the meeting starts. Just in case there’s late intel.”

“You mean in case someone calls to say I’m dead?” Alex asked.

“Something like that. Zack will switch choppers as soon as we land. The co-pilot will take this helicopter back to base with Larry. If something happens, Zack will get you out of here. Stick with Zack.”

Alex nodded. Zack dropped the helicopter onto an open space near the circle of lights. The bright lights filled the meadow with dazzling light and deep shadow. The diesel smoke blew in white clouds to obscure the helicopters. No one would be able to see who got out of this chopper.

“Promise me. You will leave without me,” Raz said into her ear.

“No,” she said.

Standing, she pulled on an oversized dark blue jacket with HOMELAND SECURITY printed in white letters across the back. Raz stuck a Homeland Security baseball cap on her fake blonde hair. When she looked up, Raz was dressed in a matching jacket and hat. She took a pair of brown rimmed glasses from his hand.

The helicopter door opened to two Homeland Security officers. Raz and Alex followed Larry out of the helicopter. On the way to the clearing, the senior Homeland Security officer updated Larry. Reaching the edge of the lit area, Larry glanced back at Alex and Raz. His smile faded and his eyes flicked back and forth with anxiety.

Something wasn’t right.

Alex smiled to comfort the young man.

Larry nodded his head and entered the circle of light. Alex and Raz stood about a foot from the lit space almost hidden by dark shadow and smoke.

Seated in the middle of the circle, the Weasel’s orange jumpsuit the bright white light like a lighthouse. His hands were cuffed behind him and his legs shackled. Three Federal prison guards stood behind him. Two Homeland Security agents stood next to him. The Weasel watched Larry move across the lit area.

Zack hopped out of the Black Hawk. He swaggered over to a group of Homeland Security agents. After making a lewd joke, he moved off into the forest.

So far so good.

They stood in the shadows listening to Larry bluff his way through the preliminaries of the interview. A half hour in, one of the Weasel’s Department of Corrections guards came out of the lit circle.

“You with the Fey?” the man asked.

His voice was loud enough for the other Homeland Security Agents to look up. Surprised, Alex nodded.

“You need to come with me.”

F

Learning to Stand is the second novel in the Alex the Fey thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.

The novel is available in paperback at Amazon, our store, your local library and bookstore.
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com,
StoriesbyClaudia.com and AlextheFey.com.

Join the Alex the Fey Facebook Group

Previous Chapters
Recap of the Beginning and character summary

CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

Friday morning — 5:25 A.M.

Dressed in her pajamas, Jill ran down the stairs from the loft. Her bare feet made a tight drumbeat as she pounded past the landing. Slipping around the corner, she almost ran over Honey. Honey had been wheeling at top speed toward the stairs. Jill caught Honey’s chair before they fell over.

“The jury returned!” the women said together.

“Ann just…” Jill started at the same time Honey said, “I got…”

They both gave a nervous laugh.

“You first,” Jill said.

“The jury insisted on staying all night.” Honey’s voice was fast and excited. “The victim’s advocate said they reviewed every bit of evidence, everything. She got the call this morning. The jury has reached a decision. That’s what she said. ‘The jury has reached a decision.’ What did Ann say?”

“Pretty much the same thing. Ann said she was sure they would stay the weekend. After all the befuddling counter testimony and everything else, she and the DA thought the jury was confused and would want the weekend. But…”

“The victim’s advocate said this was good news.”

“Ann said a quick verdict is usually a guilty verdict.”

The women beamed at each other.

“We made it!” Jill exclaimed.

Honey nodded.

“Ann said that sentencing would be in a couple weeks.” Jill bit at the skin on the edge of her thumb. “She said that the jury may make a recommendation but since it’s not a capital case, the judge decides on a sentence.”

“I hope she’s put away for life.”

“At least,” Jill said. “We’d better get dressed! We’re supposed to be there at seven. They want Katy and Paddie there too. Oh, I need to call Colin.”

“Jill?”

“Shoot I don’t know if they’re in town,” Jill continued her nervous chewing on her thumb.

Honey put her hand on Jill’s arm. She pulled Jill’s thumb from of her mouth. Jill looked down at Honey.

“Congratulations!” Honey beamed. ”We made it through three weeks of hell!”

“Congratulations to you,” Jill said. “You’re amazing!”

“I’m so excited to get back to work and my regular life,” Honey said. “Oh and guess what?”

“What?”

“The doctor said MJ and I can try for a baby again next month,” Honey beamed. “Can you imagine? Done with this crap and a baby. I hope I get pregnant right away.”

Jill leaned over to hug Honey. She kissed her cheek.

“Now let’s go get dressed!” Honey said.

Honey spun in place and wheeled off before Jill could say another word. Jill took the stairs to the loft two at a time. Leaning against the door, she couldn’t help but smile.

The trial was almost over.

~~~~~~~~

Friday morning — 8:25 A.M.
The Castle

Delphie wandered through the main Castle living room. Today, by some act of the Goddess, everyone would be gone from the Castle until after dinner time. After her miserable night, Sandy was working today. Noelle and Nash were at school and work until they went to see the baby this afternoon. Honey, MJ and Jill plus Jacob, Katy and her little friend, Paddie, were at the trial. Delphie even thought most of Jill’s family was going to be there to hear the verdict. Sam was covering for Jacob, and Aden. He left early and would be home late. Valerie and Mike weren’t due in from Prague this evening. Rosa and her cleaning team had arrived early and finished their weekly scouring of the Castle. Even the dogs were at the groomers today.

Tonight, they would have a lot of celebrating to do – Valerie was home; Mike’s art show opened on Sunday; the awful trial was over; Aden and Pete had survived the night and seemed to be gaining strength; and a new baby to love for Sandy, Noelle and Nash. As always, dinner would be a loud, laughing party.

But for now, Delphie had her Castle all to herself.

After months of longing for the solitary peace and quiet of the empty Castle, she felt a little lonely. She straightened a pillow on the couch. Patting the cushion, she decided to take a bath in Sam’s big tub. She was almost to the hall when she heard a noise. Turning, she gasped in horror and stepped back.

Levi Johansen stepped into the living room. The demon from her childhood had arrived to take her back.

“Hello Chastity,” he said.

Raising his hand, he used his psychic powers to grip Delphie’s mind. She fought him off as she and Jacob had practiced since Christmas. She was barely able to defend herself. Invisible to the naked eye, the two powerful psychics were locked in a battle of will and mind. Feeling a burst of his energy, Delphie panicked. She forgot all she’d learned and took off running toward Sam’s room. Johansen caught her at the door.

He wrapped his hands into her bottle bright red hair. He smashed her forehead against the door to stun her. Using both of his hands, he pressed his will into her mind.

“You’re mine,” he said.

~~~~~~~~

Friday mid-day — 12 noon
York Street Club

“My name is Enrique.” His anxious voice came out in a croak.

“Hi Enrique,” the men in the room said.

“Among other things, I am an alcoholic. It’s been two days since my last drink.”

Sitting outside in his car, he’d almost thrown up from the terror of simply walking into this AA house. Now that he was here, he felt all right, nervous, but almost as if he belonged. Enrique sighed with relief when the man next to him introduced himself.

One day at a time.

That’s all he had left.

~~~~~~~~

Friday early afternoon — 1:15 P.M.

“Mr. Blanchard, are we ready to hear the verdicts?” the Judge asked.

After arriving early, they had spent the morning waiting for the defendant. She and her attorney had attempted to renegotiate her plea bargain. Today! After three weeks of nonsense, she’d decided she wanted the plea. The victim’s advocate said she was abusing the victims. Their office filed some special form on Jill, Katy, Paddie, and Honey’s behalf. The District Attorney was furious. Listening to the Judge, Jill could tell that the Judge was angry too.

“Let us proceed,” the Judge said. “Have you reached a verdict?”

“Yes, your honor,” the jury foreman stood. He gave a piece of paper to the bailiff.

Jill watched the tiny slip of paper move across the room. Jacob grabbed her hand. Sucking her thumb for the first time since last summer, Katy snuggled further into Jill’s lap. The little family braced for the verdict.

The Judge’s dark fingers made the piece of paper seem bright white. The Judge gave a small nod.

“I’d like to poll the jury,” the Judge said. “Do you agree with this verdict?”

One at a time, the jurors stood to say, “Aye.” When the last juror sat down, the tension in the courtroom raised a notch.

“To the charge of assault with the intent of murder, the verdict is…”

Jill thought she would pass out.

“Guilty!”

Jill wanted to cheer and scream but she knew she’d get thrown out of the courtroom. Breathing deeply to control her excitement, she heard:

“Guilty.”

“Guilty.”

“Guilty.”

“Guilty.”

“Guilty.”

“Guilty.”

The step-sister was found guilty on every single charge!

EVERY CHARGE!

MJ covered Honey in a hug. Jill and Katy hugged Jacob until Paddie begged to come up. With Katy on one hip and Paddie on the other, Jill hugged her brother, Steve, and sisters, Megan and Candy, and mother, Anjelika, until she ended up back in Jacob’s arms.

The Judge pounded her gavel to gain order. Finally, everyone sat back down.

“The jury has requested special circumstances,” the Judge said. “Even though I am not a fan of the death penalty, I’m sorry to say that special circumstances are not allowed in this case. Somehow Honey Lipson managed to survive, so we are unable to entertain the death penalty in this case. That said, I will determine sentencing in two weeks.”

With another pounding of her gavel, the Judge adjourned the court.

“Let’s celebrate,” Honey said.

“Let’s!” Jill replied.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Jacob patted MJ on the back.

The happy group left the courtroom to celebrate their victory.

~~~~~~~

Friday afternoon — 2:35 P.M.
The Castle

Sitting on the edge of Sam’s bed, Delphie conserved her strength. She’d endured hours of psychic interrogation as a young child. She could endure it now that she was strong, well loved, and experienced.

But she was starting to lose track of her answers. His questions had become wild, crazy and off centered. She said whatever came into her mind. If her answers were vague or unclear, he would hurt her either use his psychic powers to squeeze her mind or hit her.

She’d do almost anything not to be hit. She had hated being hit as a child. She hated it now.

Why hadn’t he taken her back to Leadville? What was he waiting for?

When he was hungry, he dragged her into the kitchen by her hair to demand that she make his lunch. He used to only like restaurant food, expensive fancy food. But today he only wanted a sandwich. That was all a sandwich. They ate and he returned to his crazy interrogation.

Thank the Goddess that age had taken any sexual urge from him. While she was certain she would survive whatever he dished out, she just didn’t want to have to endure him today.

She’d become so accustomed to being loved, respected, and cared for. These hours with Johansen were almost more humiliating than when she was a child, when she didn’t know better. Every time she was ready to give into her despair, she saw Celia near her. Celia’s support helped her through the worst of the day.

“I need a glass of water,” she said.

“You may get one from the bathroom, Chastity,” he said. “I’m going to take a nap. If you leave, you will die. Your mind will break into pieces. You know this. No Marlowe can save you now.”

“I will take a bath while you nap,” she said.

“Fine,” he said.

Taking off his ancient dress shoes, he lay down on Sam’s bed. His scarecrow limbs made him look like more like a coat hanger person than the demon he was. When he closed his eyes, she went into the bathroom. She filled the tub with warm, rose scented, foamy water then stepped in. When her entire body was in the tub, she dared to reach for the bathroom telephone. As silently as she could, she picked up the receiver.

No dial tone. Johansen must have cut the lines. She’d never used a cell phone. Jacob bought her one but she couldn’t figure out how to use it. It sat, uncharged, on her dresser. She cursed her stupidity.

For the first time, Delphie gave into her hopelessness. She slipped below the suds and wept.

~~~~~~~~

Friday afternoon — 3:40 P.M.
Lipson Construction

“Sorry, honey, I can’t join the party,” Tres yelled to Tanesha over the loud music in the background. “It’s awesome, really wonderful news.”

“So why aren’t you joining us?” Tanesha asked. “Heather and Blane are taking care of Molly’s kids today. She won’t be there.”

“It’s not that,” Tres said. “My brother needs some help moving in. He’s going to stay with me for a while.”

“Enrique?”

“Yeah,” Tres said.

“But I thought he owned his house,” Tanesha said.

“He does,” Tres said. “He’s ending it with Calvin. Calvin said he’d move out at the first of the month. Enrique doesn’t want to throw him out…”

“Like he did Blane?”

“Well, yes, that’s exactly what he said,” Tres said.

“Huh.”

“Huh is right,” Tres said. “He quit his job today too.”

“Wow, better find out what’s going on with him.”

“That’s what I thought,” Tres said. “Sorry I’ll miss the party.”

“It’s all right,” Tanesha said. “I have to work at seven anyway. I think they have a family dinner this evening. I just thought you’d have fun if you came.”

“I would have,” Tres said. “Thanks for the invite. I’ll be with Enrique the rest of the night.”

“Ok, I’ll catch you tomorrow,” Tanesha said.

“Tomorrow.”

Tres smiled when he set down the phone. Since they’d had their big talk, he and Tanesha seemed to be closer, more honest. She was becoming his best friend, maybe the best friend he’d ever had. Grabbing his coat, he went out to his car.

What the hell was going on with Enrique?

~~~~~~~~

Friday afternoon — 4:45 P.M.
19^th Avenue Medical Building

“I told you, Nash! I’m going to have a sister,” Noelle’s loud voice echoed off the elevator.

“No!” Nash yelled back. “We just didn’t get to see. He’s shy. Like me!”

The kids had gone back and forth since they left the doctors office.

“You tell her Sandy. I’m right aren’t I?” Nash said.

Not wanting to get in between the arguing kids, Sandy put one hand on Noelle’s shoulder and the other on Nash’s shoulder.

“Sandy?” Noelle asked.

“I don’t know,” Sandy said. “I was so excited that the baby was healthy. Did you see its little fingers?”

“The baby was sucking his thumb,” Nash said.

“Her thumb, Nash,” Noelle said.

“I’m kind of glad we don’t know,” Sandy said. “Will you be terribly disappointed if she’s a girl, Nash? Will you be terribly disappointed if he’s a boy, Noelle?”

“No, but…” Nash said at the same time Noelle said, “I’m still right.”

“You are not!” Nash said.

“What if you’re both right?” Sandy asked. Laughing, she added, “What if it’s a girl AND a boy?”

“Ewwwww!” Nash said while Noelle screamed in horror.

Sandy laughed. The elevator came to a stop in the lobby.

“Can we get ice cream?” Noelle asked as they left the elevator.

“Of course,” Sandy said. “But not a lot. Just a single scoop. Ok. Remember we have a big dinner tonight?”

“Mrs. Valerie’s coming home and Mike too!” Noelle said.

“Mr. Mike?” Sandy asked.

“He just likes to be called Mike,” Nash said.

“Ok,” Sandy said. “Ice cream, then we get ready for our dinner party.”

The children burst from the building and ran to the car. Sandy trotted after them. Smiling, she drove to Liks for ice cream.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 5:25 P.M.
The Castle

Valerie stopped walking when she reached the side door of the Castle. Tipping her head to the side, she puzzled. Mike came up behind her carrying their bags and his hockey gear.

“Would you like me to carry you over the threshold, my bride?” he asked. Setting their bags down, he moved to lift her into his arms.

“No,” Valerie said. Her hand touched the glass of the security door. “Something’s wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Mike asked.

“Delphie always meets me at the door. I’ve never come home and had her not open the door when I’m standing right here,” Valerie said. “Something’s very wrong. I can almost smell it.”

“She probably burned dinner,” Mike said. “Come on.”

Mike used his key to unlock the security door, then the original solid oak door underneath. He held the door for Valerie. Still unsure, Valerie hesitated. He gave her a little shove and she stepped inside. He set their bags next to the living room closet.

He followed Valerie as she meandered through the silent living room and into the kitchen. By the time he reached the kitchen door, Valerie had turned. She was shaking her head.

“No cheesecake? No dinner?” Valerie asked. “My heart is pounding. I’m terrified something awful has happened to Delphie.”

Mike spun in place. He took the stairs two at a time. Running down the hall, he burst into Delphie’s apartment.

Only settling dust and silence.

He was almost to the stairwell when he heard Valerie scream. He pounded down the stairwell to find Valerie slumped against the kitchen counter.

“Babies,” she gasped. “Contractions.”

Sensing movement, he turned to see a tall thin man dragging Delphie by her hair. He was ready to jump the scrawny man when Valerie screamed again.

“No, Mike! Don’t do it, Mike!” Delphie screamed. “Stay with Valerie! He will kill us all!”

Mike dropped to Valerie’s side. Valerie screamed again.

“NO Marlowe will survive this day,” the man said.

~~~~~~~~

Friday evening — 5:40 P.M.

Jacob helped Jill out of the back of MJ’s SUV. When Jill turned to get Katy and Paddie from their car seats, Jacob went to the driver’s window to talk to MJ.

“We’ll see you Sunday?” Jacob asked.

“SUNDAY!?” Honey leaned over to ask Jacob.

“I have a little surprise,” MJ said. “Jake helped me find a little place in the mountains. I thought maybe a weekend away.”

When she didn’t respond, MJ got nervous.

“J-j-j- just us. I th-th-thought i-i-it would b-b-be nice.”

Honey gave a little cheer. She kissed his cheek and MJ looked relieved.

Feeling movement, Jacob leaned down to pick up a tired Katy. He looked over at Jill as she lifted a sleeping Paddie into her arms. Their eyes held for a moment. They were a little loose, happy and looking forward to spending naptime in each other’s arms.

“Have a great time,” Jill said.

She leaned in to kiss MJ’s cheek. Honey blew her a kiss. Standing in the driveway, they waved to Honey and MJ as they drove off. Jacob leaned over Katy to kiss Jill’s lips. They began to walk toward the Castle.

“You think we…” he said.

Jacob stopped walking. His face stiffened from smiling to serious, almost deadly. Jill touched his arm to make sure he was all right. When he looked up, he gave a terse whisper:

“Wake up Paddie. Jill! Do it now.”

Jacob ran around the back of the Castle to the foot high stained glass windows of Delphie’s chapel. Without hesitation, he kicked out the antique glass from one of the windows.

“Jacob! No,” Jill said. “Those are irreplaceable!”

He nodded to her then went back to work kicking out the window. When the window was gone from the space, he laid his coat over the ragged edges of the frame.

“Go down there,” he said to Katy.

“I don wan to, Daddy,” Katy said. “I’m really tired.”

“Katherine Marlowe, you will get down there this instant,” he said.

Stunned and terrified by his tone, Katy began to cry. She squirmed out of his arms and hid behind Jill’s legs.

“You’re scaring her,” Jill said. “What’s going on?”

“Something terrible. That’s what’s going on,” Jacob said, his voice somewhere between despair and rage. “Katy and Paddie are in danger. Katy in particular.”

“Let me go with them,” Jill said. “Get them settled.”

Jacob nodded. He hadn’t thought of Jill going with the kids. That was a better plan. She would be safe. If he died…

Rather than finishing the thought, he took a groggy Paddie from her. He set Paddie on the ground. Holding her hands, he guided her through the tight space. He dropped her to the ground. She ran to a pew and dragged it under the broken window. Standing on a pew, she took Paddie from him.

He picked up Katy and kissed her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Katy,” Jacob said. “I got scared and…”

“You scared me when you were like my old Daddy,” Katy said. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never,” Jacob kissed the girl’s cheek. “I can only, always, love you. Even if I’m scary.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” Katy said. “Your Mommy explained everything.”

“Celia?”

“I call her Naomi,” Katy said.

The little girl threw her arms around Jacob.

“I love you, Daddy,” Katy said. “Just remember, you’re stronger than him because you can love. Love will kill him. I don’t know what that means but that’s what your Mommy said to tell you.”

Jacob kissed Katy’s head. He helped her through the opening to the chapel and into Jill’s arms. Jill set Katy down then returned to the opening.

“I love you, Jacob Marlowe,” she said. “You come back to me.”

He leaned down to kiss her.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He stroked her cheek then watched Jill take the kids toward the pillows near the back of the chapel. With one last look, he ran toward the side entrance of the Castle. Holding open the security door, he let out a breath.

This was it. This was the moment he’d spent the last months preparing for. He was fit and strong. His mind was clear. His mental and psychic capacities had grown with steady practice. He was as ready as he would ever be.

For a moment, he wished he was somewhere else, someone else. He wished he didn’t have to open this door and fight to the death with a man he barely knew. He wished for a hundred more quiet mornings and sunlit summer evenings. He wished for the children, his children, he might never meet. He longed to see Katy married and happy.

But Jacob was never one to waste a lot of time on wishes. The moment passed and he was ready again.

Nodding to himself, he opened the oak door and walked inside.

Denver Cereal continues next week…

~~~~~~~~

Denver Cereal is a serial fiction set in Denver, Colorado.
You can get your daily dose of Denver Cereal at DenverCereal.com
Chapters are posted on Saturdays on this blog.
Download your free electronic copy of Denver Cereal, the beginning, and Celia’s Puppies.
Like printed books? Go here or Amazon for a print copy of the Denver Cereal;
Go here or Amazon for the recently released Celia’s Puppies.
Claudia Hall Christian is a novelist.

Today is the first day of my novel, Learning to Stand. Learning to Stand is the second book in the Alex the Fey thriller series.  The novel will appear one chapter at a time for the rest of the year. Learning to Stand is available in paperback at Amazon books or through our store.

Enjoy!

Title Quote

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life?
How do you go on, when in your heart,
you begin to understand there is no going back?
There are some things time cannot mend.
Some hurts, that go too deep, have taken hold.”

–Frodo Baggins in Return of the King;
Peter Jackson, Fran Walsh and Phillipa Boyens inspired by J.R. Tolkien

CHAPTER ONE

January 31 – 3:15 A.M. CET
Paris, France

“Shall I get a car, ma’am?” the doorman asked in French. He held the door for her to walk through. “Maybe an umbrella?”

“Non,” she replied. “Merci”

She stepped into the driving rain from the warm CIA hotel lobby. Wanting the rain, needing the river, she was drawn into the wild, dark morning.

She and Homeland Security Agent Arthur ‘Raz’ Rasmussen were in Paris to clear out the Fey Special Forces Team vault. Two and a half years ago, the blood and lives of eleven troops were spilled onto the floor, boxes and crates of that storage vault.

Ten friends. Ten beloved teammates gave their lives. She was the eleventh ‘troop.’ Turning onto the wide boulevard, Rue des Saints Pères, she snorted at the word ‘troop.’

She would have died.

She should have died.

But her friend, mentor, and, as she found out a few months ago, biological father, Ben received a tip that her team had been assassinated. Ben and his assistant, Raz, found her in the vault doorway with her best-friend Sergeant Jesse Abreu’s head on her lap. Raz carried her from the vault moments before she bled to death.

Two and a half years ago.

She turned left at the river. Moving along the Seine, the frozen rain battered her head and streamed from her oilskin coat. She tucked her ice-cold fingers into her sleeves.

She’d laughed when she opened the Fey Special Forces Team underground storage vault three days ago. Turning to Raz, she said, “I’ll clean up my own blood, thank you, sir.”

Fool.

Raz had checked in with her every couple of hours with a quick, “Ready to stop?” But she wouldn’t give up. They had work to do and she was going to do it. Finally, after fourteen horrific hours of scouring blood and flesh, Raz demanded they stop.

By that time, her mind had fractured. She begged him not to leave her dead friends alone in the dark. His gentle words and kind presence led her through the limestone tunnels and back to their hotel suite.

They began cataloguing the vault the next day. Blood infiltrated every crack, corner, and possession in the two hundred foot space. They saved what they could for the families and threw the rest in large red incineration bags. Sixteen hours later, they stumbled, broken-hearted, to the suite.

Yesterday, a US Army team arrived to haul away the large items, the incineration bags, and anything already catalogued. Raz directed the soldiers’ work while she pushed boxes from the corners of the vault.

With the vault floor cleared, she collected stashes of porn, random weapons and other personal items. The soldiers were removing their last load when she found her Commanding Officer Charlie O’Brien’s wedding ring lodged against a wall. He must have put his hand up to the shooter because the ring encircled his mummified finger. Numb from the macabre work, and injections of a CIA ‘vitamin’ cocktail, she slipped Charlie’s finger, and ring, into her pocket.

Five hours later, Raz found the finger among the pile of her dirty clothing. Horrified, he ordered her into their sitting room. When she didn’t respond, he burst into her bedroom. He found her tucked between the desk and the corner of the room.

She heard him calling her.

She knew he was worried.

But nothing could make her get up from the tight, safe corner.

Looking up, she watched his face shift from worry to sorrow. He fell to his knees in front of her. When he held out his arms to her, she crawled from her corner. Wrapped in each other’s arms, they wept for themselves and their friends.

She’d left Raz sound asleep in the suite.

She stopped on the bridge, Pont du Carousel. The hard rain made divots in the dark water below. She held out her arms as a gust of wind lifted her jacket. For a moment, she was flying backwards. When she hit the railing on the other side of the bridge, she knew what called her into the early-morning storm.

She ran across the bridge and through the deserted Place du Carousel. Buffeted by the wind, she jogged the limestone gravel path through a labyrinth of evergreen hedges in the Jardin des Tuileries.

She skid to a stop at the opening to an evergreen hedge circle. Embarrassed by her haste, she bowed her head to acknowledge the naked female form in the center of the hedge circle. The bronze statue beaconed her into the circle. Moving forward, she sat down on the bench facing the statue.

Charlie O’Brien loved this statue. To him, she represented everything pure and simple. This bench had been their ‘strategic command.’ Every time they were in Paris, she and Charlie laughed, plotted and gossiped on this bench. According to intel, she sat here talking to Charlie only moments before her entire world turned upside down.

She stretched her fingers out to touch the wet green wood where Charlie sat two and a half years ago. She raked her mind for some glimmer of what they had talked about.

Nothing.

Looking across the circle, she noticed raindrop tears flowing down the statue’s face. Her fingers found her own tear drenched face. She bit her lip to keep from keening with grief.

Only two grainy satellite images existed. The first image showed Charlie pointing at her. Her face was set in mock indignation. One minute later, Charlie was bent forward with laughter. Her hand was forward as if she had pushed him. Her face was bright with laughter.

Charlie died twenty minutes later.

The storm released its fury. Obscured by sheeting rain, Charlie’s favorite statue was lost. Her heart broke open with loss. Rocking back and forth on the bench, she wailed.

Her tears slowed when the storm eased. The statue’s outline reappeared. Charlie’s statue had returned to her.

If only Charlie would return.

If only…

Her head jerked up. Footsteps crunched the gravel path! Someone walked toward her! Her heart pounded with hope.

Charlie?

Just in case, she slipped her hand around the handgun in her sacrum holster. She stood to peer through the rain. Across the hedge circle, she saw a well dressed man enter the opposite side of the circle.

“Alexandra,” the man said in French. “Please sit with me.”

He held his wide black umbrella over them. The rain formed a rhythm across his umbrella.

“My brother telephoned. No ‘Hello.’ No ‘Good morning.’ Not even a ‘Did I wake you? How is your wife? Your children?’ Not Benjamin. ‘Find my daughter,’ he growled.” The man laughed. “He can be so very bossy.”

She glanced at him then returned her attention to the statue.

“I will tell him I searched everywhere for you, but I knew you would be here.”

“I’m sorry, Dom. I…” She replied in French.

“No need to explain,” Dominic Doucet said. “You’ve spent the last three days in the vault where your loved ones died, where you almost died. I wouldn’t ask my worst enemy to do what you’ve done.”

Staring at the statue, she whispered, “Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?”

“Yes, Lady Macbeth. You didn’t kill them.”

“I can’t get her out of my head.”

Cleansed by the downpour, the statue gave her a kind smile.

“You come here because it’s the last place you felt normal.”

“Sane,” she said. “Whole.”

He nodded. They watched the light rain dance on the statue.

“How are you holding up?” Dominic broke the rain’s percussive tempo.

She turned her head to look at him then turned to back to the statue. He had never known her not to smile, laugh or make a joke. Today, her face held only unspeakable pain.

They listened to the rain for a while.

“I don’t know how to do it, Dom,” she said. Her words were so quiet that he had to read her lips. “I don’t know how to move forward without them. Every time I try, I fall flat on my face. I’m failing at everything.”

“You have the curse of the Doucets. You’re impatient. We are gifted in so many ways. We expect everything to happen at our whim. Surviving, changing, moving on… These things only happen one tiny step at a time.”

“I… I don’t have any idea what tiny step to take.”

Dominic laughed.

“Only the brave survive, my dear. And you’re very brave,” he said. “Come. Let’s get your partner, your Rasmussen. I understand he’s frantic. We’ll eat crepes, drink too much café and argue about nothing.”

She nodded.

“You’re done with the vault. I insist. If anyone asks, I will tell them the President’s wife is taking her clothes off again and we don’t have the resources to protect you.”

The director of the French Intelligence service, Direction Centrale du Renseignement Intérieur, stood from the bench and held out his hand to her. She looked up into his face. Nodding, she took his hand and stood.

”Today our task will be to convince one fish to take a chance on our flies.” Dominic said. “That’s all. When Benjamin finds us, we’ll pretend we always planned to fish today.”

They walked across the gravel. At the edge of the labyrinth, she turned for one last look at Charlie’s statue. Winking at her, the statue whispered:

“Only the brave survive.”

She blinked, and the statue’s face became bronze again.

At the street, Dominic signaled his driver. A small limousine pulled in front of them. When they settled in back seat, the driver gave them warm dry towels. Dominic requested her hotel, and the car shot into a snarl of Paris traffic.

“Why didn’t you tell me I was your niece?” she asked. She rubbed her hair with the towel.

“I enjoy being your friend,” Dominique said.

“You knew when we met,” she said.

“Yes. I knew the moment you walked across the bridge carrying your fly fishing rod and bright smile,” he said. “You and Max look very much like our mother.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Our mother was beautiful person – inside and out,” Dominique said. “Just as you are.”

In the warm car and compassionate company, she felt herself relax. Fly fishing on the Seine was wicked fun. Her husband, Dr. John Kelly Drayson, and her identical twin, Max Hargreaves, would arrive tomorrow morning. If she was lucky, maybe Raz would take her dancing tonight.

“Are you asleep?” Dominic asked.

“Thinking. Planning,” she said.

He looked over at her. She caught his brown eyes.

“Thank you, Uncle.”

“I prefer to be your friend.”

“Thank you, friend.”

Resting against the leather seats, Major Alexandra “The Fey” Hargreaves smiled for the first time since she entered the vault on Monday. Today was going to be a good day.

F

Learning to Stand is the second novel in the Alex the Fey thriller series written by Claudia Hall Christian.

The novel is available in paperback at Amazon, our store, your local library and bookstore.
Entire chapters are be published at On-a-limb.com,
StoriesbyClaudia.com and AlextheFey.com.