One For You, Two For Me..., Chapter 3, Part 1 - The Old Gang...
I turned and ran to my door. I opened it and found myself face-to-face with DI Daniels. He looked like he'd ran all the way here and was in a mess.
I glared at him.
"What do you want? If you're going to try and arrest me again, don't bother."
"I've... They've... They think... Me helped... You." he panted.
"They think you helped me to escape?" I laughed "I don't need anyone's help."
"They're on their... Way." he said, collapsing against the door frame.
"Shit." The symbol on my wrist pulsed green, someone was in the perimeter. I grabbed his hand and shadow walked into an alley a couple of streets away. Mist and Night slinked up and DI Daniels turned and was sick on the side of a heavily graffitied building. I looked down the alley. People were walking to the sound of police sirens but no one looked down the alley. I pulled out my phone and dialled a number.
"Hello?" came the voice at the other end.
"Sheldon, get your ass here. Now." I said.
"No can do, Lynx, old buddy." Sheldon said.
"Sheldon, that wasn't a request. I'm calling in the favour. I saved your teleporting ass from the Diablerie now get up here."
"I can't. I'm... Look I'm on a date on a warm Australian night, so no. Not now." he replied.
"Wait. You're in Australia? Good. Round up the old gang. I want them all here."
"We haven't seen each other in years, though. How would I know where to find everyone?" I seemed to be getting his attention now.
"But my date!" he was whining now.
"I don't care. Do it!" I snapped.
"Who, exactly?" he asked, sighing with defeat.
"Flame Phoenix, Sparky Braginski, Robin Snowscar, Ivy Animosity, Eve Azure, Zathract Mist and Nixion Strange." I said. How many years had it been since the camping trip? Seven or eight. Possibly nine. We saw each other last then and had not spoken since. Would they still remember me? I wondered.
"Right. I'll get you first." And as the phone went dead a spindly man appeared next to me. "Your hand my lady." I grasped his hand. Waved my hand to my cats who dissipated in the wind and grabbed hold of DI Daniels.
"Go." I said and the world vanished to be replaced a few seconds later by a dark night and an over grown house. "Whose house is this?" I asked, totally shocked a friend would end up like this.
"This was the last know dwelling of Nixion Strange." Sheldon said as DI Daniels through up in the bushes.
This is the story set a few years after the power shots. Referred to in the story as 'the camping trip'. This story is meant to be about how friends can be close but float away. Kind of sad in parts too...
OK, I'll give you Part 2 because I'm feeling generous...
We walked up to the door and knocked. It started to crumble away where we had knocked. I walked inside to find it was dark. No electricity, but clean. Everything looked cared for - nothing like the Nix I remembered. We checked the kitchen, upstairs and finally came to the living room at the back of the house. The door was shut so I pressed my ear against it.
I heard scratching and mumbling. I pushed it open and there writing on a screwed up piece of paper by candle light on a desk, was Nixion Strange.
I walked over and looked down at what he was writing. It made no sense. It was symbols I couldn't understand but it was not sigils. It was a lot of joined lines surrounded by different sized dots. He was still mumbling, unaware I was even there.
"Nix?" I whispered. "Is that you?" I saw the candle had bite marks on it. I smiled at the time he'd swapped a photo frame for a candle. Was this the same one?
"Nix?" I said louder. Sheldon and DI Daniels were now backing out of the room. "Nix, look at me."
He glanced up at me and looked away. Then turned his head and looked straight at me. He remained silent.
"Nix, we need your help." I said.
He looked at me. He blinked once, twice. "Help." he repeated.
"Yes," I nodded "Help. We need your help."
"I no help." he said and turned away.
"Yes you will." I gathered shadows and turned his chair to face me. "You will help."
"NO!" he screamed and jumped forward. We clattered into the coffee table and I heard glass break beneath me. He was howling now, punching my face. He seemed to have forgotten his magic.
I grabbed his wrist and broke it and flipped him onto his back. I straddled him now. "You will help." I was panting now and he cracked a grin.
"You've kept in shape." he smiled.
I got off and helped him up. "I hate you." and I slapped him. He turned back to me with a red hand shape on his face.
"Ow." he said. "Don't I get a hug?" he extended his arms.
"No. People who play pranks don't get hugs. Go and clean up. Long night and day ahead." I said and pointed out of the room.
Had to put up Part 2, it's fairly funny.