The night was long and wet… She cried her eyes out, and then she cried some more… Our half-naked bodies were close, her feelings were distant. All I could do was just be there for Zil, but it felt like it wasn’t enough. The wind blew outside, the darkness seemed so complete; Completed by Zil’s tears and faded cries for the dead. It taunted me…
The demons were there, they wanted me to do it. They wanted me to taste the sweet, black heart-blood of an SG again… I wasn’t too sure of those demons, as they made the thoughts of slaughtering seem so alluring… I wanted them to stop, but they kept it up. The demons took shape; the shapes of the SG-counselors children…
I snapped out of that little nightmare, returning to Zil’s hard reality. Time seemed to stand still, only to draw out the cries. I tried talking to Zil, but again she didn’t answer… “I’ll take you to the funeral…” It felt like the only right thing to do. “Promise?” Her soft, choked up voice whispers. The way she looked into my eyes made my mind turn any way she wanted it to. “Promise…”
Those few hours Zil was silent… She twitched from time to time, but I was there… I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t abandon her. I didn’t know how bad she felt and I didn’t want to make it any worse than it already was, but I assumed I was the only one who really loved her and prayed for her cause now… I thought back a bit, and came up with a few words, but never uttered one: “Being one is never easy, especially alone. When alone, you see things you’ve never seen before, and it scares you. It is scary, because what you see, is you… You are lost without a person to guide you. You are hungry without a person to feed you. You, Zil, are lucky to have a substitute. I will guide you, I will feed you, I will not die without you being happy…” I’m sure she’d love to hear me say that, but I didn’t want to wake her.
I managed to sneak in a few hours of sleep, my clock said so at least. The room was cold, and the bed was warm. The choice was a tough one, but I chose to rush on some clothes. 9:11 the clock’s red screen displayed. I took the time to look at Zil… She was so calm when she was drifting about her dreamworld, she even smiled. I hoped it was my doing, and smiled too. Seeing her smile gave me an immediate feeling of warmth, granting me the energy to make a small breakfast for us. Zil woke to the smell of toasted bread with blood-slices on them, though I had to call her name a number of times to get her to wake up. Her mood had improved since yesterday, she had the basic underline of being depressed, but she was happy to have me by her side. We didn’t really talk, but there was a subconscious communication between us, either in the form of body-language, eyes or telepathy… I could swear I heard her say “Thank you,” even though her lips didn’t do anything but smile. I grabbed the remote and turned the TV on. As always, there were commercials. Zil looked at me in a strange way for a second, until I noticed her. She turned her eyes down on the piece of toast between her fingers. It felt like one of those looks she threw at me while my fur still had a bit of red left in it… Those mysterious looks that either meant “I like you, but I don’t know what to do,” or “You’re a freak, and I wonder what will happen next,”. Either way, it felt a bit uncomfortable and strange.
“Newsflash!” crossed the colored glass-screen. The same newsreader as every mornings news-reports sat behind the same desk as every time. But this time you could see that she wasn’t too well-prepared for her presentation. “For a short while ago, a group of SG-military forces kidnapped the 9 year old Kimeera Koru on her way to school.” The surname sounded familiar, could it be Kitty’s sister? “Several witnesses claim that the group was heavily armed. The SG-council denies any knowledge of this act, but have earlier stated that…” A new sheet of paper is handed in from the side. “This just in: The road leading to SG-territory has been spray-painted with the words; GIVE US JOON!” Even though the council may have stated otherwise, it was only to force me to turn myself in, or in the worst case make MD’s turn me in for the fat bounty… Then came my face in the headlines again. “The Joon that they probably are after is the 15 year old son of Beta Storm, Joon Fredrik Storm. He is wanted for several unknown reasons, with a bounty of 1 million for the capture of him or 500000 for the retrieval of his corpse.” I was sold… The price-tag was set, and the customers who wanted this rare offer would surely strike as quick as possible to get this fabulous piece of work first. I would have to be equally fast… Zil gave me another strange look. “I don’t want to lose you! Please survive!” or “What the hell is that thing between your eyes!”. I then thought of Eve, maybe she had taught me a trick that might help me out of this mess… 10 years ago, she taught me how to focus my powers. 10 years later, I would need that. I should have taken notes… Think, think, think…
“What are you thinking?” Zil said a bit worried. I just shook my head and said “Nothing…”. I then thought “Nobody would recognize me if I suddenly had my red fur again,”, and tried to fantasize how I would look in red again. Zil suddenly jumped a bit, with a scared expression on her face. “What is it?” I asked. “You… you…” She had no words for what had happened to me. I looked down at my body, and noticed my forearms were red. I got up and ran to the nearest mirror. Yep, I was red again… My hair was a bit lighter, and the belly-fur stretched up to the lower parts of my face instead of ending at a point on my throat. My hands and feet were still black, and the strange marking around my eye persisted. I whip out my cell-phone and roll up uncle Zaz’ number. “I’m here,” Zaz answered his phone. “When’s the funeral for Zil’s folks?” “This afternoon, why…?” “Thanks,” I ended the conversation.
2 hours till noon, and I estimated a 3-4 hours to get to the cemetery. Time was of the essence, and I grabbed one of my SMG’s before leaving the house. I left no note, or no word stating my departure. But the roar of my bike must have done so.
There we were… Me, my bike, my gun and my girl. No protection, no plan, no backup. Only the false feeling of safety projected by the new coat.
One wrong move, and I wouldn’t be able to make another…