Why was it that her assignments always brought her to some weird land, and sent her stalking after some strange creature that “Couldn’t be allowed to exist anymore”? Just once, she wished she could chase down some sort of Human criminal, maybe a terrorist, or a serial killer...even a peeping tom; somebody who deserved to be chased down, hunted, and killed. Someone who had, by their own actions, knowingly sealed their own fate, committed some awful crime...done something other than just being in the wrong airspace at the wrong time. Not to mention, it would be nice to catch a snack and a target in the same chase. No, she needed to keep her wits about her. As far as she knew, she had never been to this land before, but then again, they’d all started to look alike to her; lush, green, rolling hills, dark scary forests with God only knew what crawling around them, and castles, there were almost always castles fraught with dingy taverns and dirty inns. Had she been here before? Probably, but nothing on paper. Then again, nothing she’d done in the last few years had ended up on paper. Nevertheless, she felt herself drawn to the place.
“Might not be such a bad place to hunker down for a while, until I can find exactly who, or what I’m supposed to be looking for.”
Everywhere she looked there were trees, big, old trees with moss growing all along the trunks. Sure, she could use them to determine her direction, but that would imply some knowledge of the land, which she just didn’t have. She didn’t know if it even needed a sun, or if it had two or three or fifteen, or if the moss, like the moss from home, grew on a certain side of the trees. What she did have, was the clothes on her back; a jacket and pants designed with such a pattern as to allow her to blend into the backdrop of a forest or jungle, with “Brantley” embroidered on one side of her chest, and some strange emblems on the other, and a weapon that she considered so old it should have been considered a non-firing relic, and confined to a museum. She didn’t understand at the time why her requisitioned equipment included this antique, and none of her usual gear. On top of that, her pack was not full of the rations she was used to, but rather contained some foul smelling hard cakes, a bottle of unlabelled liquor and a lump of stinky cheese wrapped in a thin, damp cloth.
“Is this what the locals eat? Even for humans, that is disgusting.”
She knew the food was meant to be used as a bribe for hungry locals, a way of gathering information without maiming anyone, or burning down any villages. She had a terrible track record, had often been present at the time of mysterious, brutal, and uncalled for killings, and had even been around when an entire town burnt itself to the ground, starting with a basilica full of morning worshippers, all of them killed in the fire.
“Alright, alright Brantley, enough time spent enjoying the scenery, time to find yourself a place to sleep before the sun comes up.”
She thought she heard the steam whistle of a train in the distance, and where there were trains, especially those with steam engines, there were bound to be people, and in amongst a crowd was the easiest place to hide, especially if nobody was actually looking for you. Turning her booted feet on their heels, she took up her pack and weapon, and set out in the direction she had last heard the sounds of the locomotive at a brisk lope. She would have to catch the train before it got out of range, or find some spider hole to hide in until the sun had set again, and who knew how long that could be.
Posted: Thu Dec 03, 2009 2:20 pm