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A Story For Japan – Day 6 March 25, 2011

Posted by techtigger in A Story For Japan, writing.
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A Story For Japan BannerThis story is a stand-alone Nox and Grimm tale, being written to raise funds to help the Red Cross Japan relief fund.  For every dollar donated, I will add a sentence to the story.

As of this morning, we are at 252 lines! And there is still a day to donate – Pitch in, help the Red Cross and watch the story grow!

To donate, click on the button below.

Thank you!

To read Day 1 –  click here

To read Day 2 – click here

To read Day 3 – click here

To read Day 4/5 – click here


Time compressed, and sped up in another blinding flash of light.  The next thing Nox knew, she was hurtling through the air, limp as a rag doll. That was probably the only thing that saved her, when she hit the brick wall. All of the air whooshed out of her lungs and she plummeted to ground, landing on a heap of stinking refuse.  She lay there and waited for the world to quit spinning, while every bone in her body started to ache. The good news was that she was alive, and it didn’t feel like anything was broken.  Unfortunately,  she acted on that knowledge by trying to stand up.  Her stomach lurched, and she was violently ill against the wall.

It was only after her stomach quit imitating a geyser that it occurred to her there were no brick walls in the middle of the wastelands. She could still sense the elements, so she created a handful of snow to clean out her mouth while she examined her new surroundings.  The buildings to either side were tall enough to keep the alley in permanent shade. Boxes made of metal, and others of dense, brown paper covered the ground, leaving only a thin, puddle strewn path open.

Nox staggered for a few steps, but the ache in her bones was spreading. Her whole body started to shake, and she clutched a hand to her chest. The last minutes of the fight came back to her in a rush – Loki going down beneath the blades, and Grimm… panic set in as she realized the ache was spreading out from where their soul-bond had been. That link was the only thing that kept the curse he suffered under from annihilating him.

It was gone. She had failed him.  She threw back her head and screamed.

Miles away, alarm claxons sounded throughout a tall, ordinary looking office building.  John ran full tilt through the hallways, knowing the Director was going to want all hands on deck. The Nexus had been spitting out unusually high levels of radiation all afternoon, and every member of the task force had been put on standby.

He nearly bowled over one of the junior medical officers as he turned a corner.  They spun around and lurched to a halt, apologizing profusely as they extricated themselves.  He was one of the new recruits, just in from the central office in D.C.

“Sir, both of the staff empaths collapsed!”

“If they’ve gone down, the Director may have taken a hit as well. Let’s move.”

They pelted through the halls, past rooms full of empty desks and banks of elevators with Out of Order signs tacked on them.  Pulses from the Nexus played havoc with electronics. At first they had mistaken it for a terrorist group using an EMP. Once they realized it was a natural phenomenon, they had set up a heavily shielded bunker in the basement to use as a command center whenever the Nexus got frisky.  Only a quick response team stayed topside, keeping their eyes, and any other senses they had, open for the signs of trouble that always followed a pulse.

Five flights of stairs later, they were ushered through a pair of airlocks into a large room lit with the multi-hued glow from an entire wall of computer screens. The Director was sitting with his head tilted back, using a handkerchief to mop up the blood from his nose.

John put a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay, Stephen?”

“Just a black out. I banged my nose on the desktop when I heard that scream.”

“Do we have a reading on where it came from?” John asked, turning to look at the map of the city on the wall behind them.  There was a smear of blood near the waterfront.

“I marked the hit,” Stephen said, “but I can’t give you an exact location. Take two men, and proceed with caution. This one is suffering from severe emotional trauma, as well as having a strong talent blown open. Class two, maybe even one.”

John didn’t wait hear more. Stephen was a class one psychic, and it had taken him years to learn how to control his skills. John was a class two telekinetic, and he could knock holes in buildings with nothing more than the force of his will.  The thought of someone with that kind of power, out of control in a heavily populated city, made his blood run cold.


<-Back to Day 5



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