Cliffhanger
Don't I Know You?
Now that we were all together and in one piece I checked my phone; five thirty-four. Yikes! That only gave us a few minutes to get our things packed for the trip to Moms for the funeral. It seemed odd to call it Mom's place instead of Mom and Dad's. She sounded terrible on the phone earlier and I wasn't looking forward to Beanie telling her about our almost fatal swim. She had enough to fret about.
By Tina D'Angeloabout a year ago in Chapters
When Worlds Collide
Officer Deb stayed with us throughout the ER visit, waiting patiently for us as they took Beanie for x-rays, and never complained about the long delay in getting them read. She and I occasionally chatted, but most of the time she spent scrolling through her phone, as I stared into space, wondering how Katie was doing without us.
By Tina D'Angeloabout a year ago in Chapters
Descent (Part Ten). Content Warning.
Blinking, trying to push through a fog that had fallen over my thoughts, I struggled to understand what I was seeing. Looking for all the world like they were at mass, or waiting for the bride to emerge at a wedding, rank on rank of people knelt with heads bowed. Each one facing the man at the front. The ranks were not perfect, holes stood out reminding me of gaps in a smile.
By Alexander McEvoyabout a year ago in Chapters
Birth Marks
Heather, a later teen, lies awake; staring off into the ceiling late at night, contemplating what she saw was a dream or not. Her eyes eroding with fatigue while she continuously stared at the ceiling. Her hands rested gently on her midi nightdress with a fold, feeling the rough fabric of thick sheer underneath them. Heather's eyebrows gently squeezed together as she tried to make sense of it all. Did she eat a poisonous plant by accident when she was having one of her adventures through the woods? Maybe it was her imagination going too far, or maybe she brushed up against something that causes hallucinations. That must be it, right? - there was no possible way that could've been real.
By Noah Lichtenbergabout a year ago in Chapters
My learnings as a market researcher
Learning is the only way to move forward, the err to your growth is the belief that you know everything. The beauty of existence lies in challenging your limits, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone and performing the tasks that scare you and motivate you to become a better version of yourself. Life has its unique ways of compelling you to embrace the unknown and forging you to uplevel your game.
By Hridya Sharmaabout a year ago in Chapters
The War of the Americas - Chapter VII
Author's preface: The earlier parts of the story can be found at the links. Chapter I, II, III, IV, V, VI Sylvia sat quietly in the very back row of the heavily armored prisoner transport bus with her head down and her hands ziptied behind her back. Four Mexican soldiers armed with FX-05 Xiuhcoatl rifles patrolled the aisle of the bus which currently was home to Sylvia and at least fifty other American POWs. All had been recently arrested after they were declared enemy combatants following the United States bombing of several targets along the US Mexican border including the city of Tijuana and the (formerly) busiest land border crossing in the world at San Ysidro. That crossing had been reduced to a smoldering pile of rubble by US cruise missiles launched from just offshore, killing hundreds, including at least 150 US customs and border patrol agents who had not been prewarned about the surprise attack. Sylvia was well acquainted with firearms and had great respect for the FX-05 assault rifle which was designed and built by the Dirección General de Industria Militar del Ejército (General Directorate of Military Industry of the Army) through the Fabricas Militares (Military Factory). The name translated roughly as "Fire Serpent", or literally "Turquoise-Serpent" in classical Nahuatl, a language with which Sylvia was only passingly familiar, unlike the six other languages she spoke fluently which included Latin, Ancient Greek, and Middle Egyptian along with Spanish, English, Italian, and German. The fact that she was fluent in Spanish or any other language was something she kept secret from the Mexicans and everyone else. The more they saw her as just another ignorant American the better. Her knowledge of Spanish had allowed her to learn a few things the guards had spoken amongst themselves thinking no one would understand. Importantly, she had heard that the war against Mexico was not at all popular in the United States. Donald Trump had gravely miscalculated the appetite of the average American for bloodshed, especially when it was American's blood that was being shed. The families of the CBP agents killed in the bombing of San Ysidro border crossing had rallied a huge number of Americans to their sides in protest and marched on Washington en masse. Thousands or even tens of thousands of Americans had been arrested and imprisoned in makeshift prison camps scattered around the Washington DC area. She and the other prisoners had been constantly on the move for almost a week. Changing from bus to bus as they slowly made there way to wherever it was they were going. She had learned that they were still in the Mexican border state of Baja, California and were heading to a newly erected prison camp somewhere just south of Mexicali. She had feared they would be flown to the mainland and imprisoned there, but at least for now that did not seem to be the plan. Sylvia was very afraid of what she might find when they finally did reach their destination. She had only been interrogated perfunctorily when initially arrested, a fact she was puzzled by, but knew a much more serious interrogation lay in wait for her. She had been rehearsing her cover story and was prepared for anything they might throw at her. The fact that she had been rehearsing and preparing a similar cover story to use with her own husband had she not decided to tell him about her new job with the CIA made the process much easier. The CIA had also helped her considerably in this regard by making sure she had rock solid alibis in place for each and every place she would claim to have been, and every thing she would claim to have done and been doing over the past almost two years of living in Mexico and working in the United States.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Chapters
The War of the Americas - Chapter VI
Dom opened his eyes and for a moment he thought he was in his own bed. He rolled over expecting to see his wife Sylvia lying next to him. Instead he saw a man in dress uniform looking down at him. Suddenly his memories rushed back and he recalled the dizzying events of the the past day. The US bombing of Mexico, the arrest order for all US citizens living in Mexico, Sylvia's calling her new employers for help, the arrival of the SEAL team, the death of his two beloved dogs, his wife's decision to stay behind, and his own decision to lie to the SEALs and say she had been killed. He winced as he recalled the gruesome death of the young Mexican soldier only inches from his own face. His mind replayed the moment when his head broke into pieces from the impact of a SEAL sniper round. He put his hand to his own face expecting the blood and bone chips to still be there, but they had all been wiped away and he was clean, though he desperately needed a shave. It had been a long while since he had any time to even think about grooming. His long, wavy black hair must look like a bees nest he thought before chastising himself for worrying about his appearance at a time like this. The last thing he remembered was the sands of the beach exploding all around as he and the SEAL team boarded the small RIB and raced north as quickly as they were able. He managed to prop himself up onto one elbow just as the man standing next to his bed spoke "Dr. Platt, How are you feeling? My name is Lieutenant Tim Stephens, medical officer aboard the USS Jack H. Lucas, but everyone calls her the Luke or Cool Hand Luke for short. On behalf of the Navy I would like to officially welcome you aboard and express my sincerest sympathies at the death of your wife. We are now officially at war with Mexico and sadly she will not be the last American to die I'm afraid." He paused there. Dom had heard the genuine sadness in the young Lieutenants voice, and it was reflected in his dark brown eyes. He was grateful for the expression of sympathy, even if it was misplaced. His wife was not dead. His dogs however, were, and his emotional reaction to that terrible news once again played to his advantage as tears came to his eyes almost immediately as he thought of them. Lieutenant Stephens of course thought they were for his wife and continued to stand silently over him waiting patiently for Dom to get his emotions under control some until saying anything more. Before he could speak again there was a banging at the door of the small medical room where Dom had been brought to rest and recover. It swung open and two men in suits and wearing dark sunglasses strode into the room. One of them spoke "Lieutenant Stephens you are dismissed, we need to speak with Dr. Platt, now." It was strange to see two men who appeared to be civilians summarily dismiss a Navy officer and Dom fully expected some protest from the Lieutenant, but instead he simply nodded his head and quickly moved out of the room, shutting the door behind him as he went.
By Everyday Junglistabout a year ago in Chapters
