Into the Shadows:
The Coming Dark (c)
Chapter Thirteen
By Fiction Writer #13
(voy, exhib, para)

When the doors of the elevator slid open, Christopher made no 
move to exit.

"His secretary will direct you."

Steve took a deep breath before letting it out in a rush. "Thanks, 
Chris."

He hadn't expected a reply, but as the doors slid shut behind him he 
could have sworn he heard the stoic man whisper, 'Good luck.'

The seventieth floor was a different world compared to the floors 
Steve was familiar with.  For one, the way the building tapered toward 
the top meant this floor was considerably smaller than those far 
below.  The elevator opened into a small reception area. Its walls 
were adorned with silver and gold metalwork, cut and polished in 
what Steve believed was a cubist style.  Even the white marble floor 
was inlayed with ribbons of gold and silver.  An intricately designed 
rug woven with red, black and grey fibers led the way from the 
elevator up to the secretary's desk.  As Steve stepped on the plush 
pile he felt as if his skin were tingling, something he chalked up to 
nerves.

A pale complexioned woman in her late twenties with long, straight 
coal black hair, sat stock still behind a glass desk that fully revealed 
her black nylon clad legs.  She wore a black miniskirt that barely 
covered her, but from the waist up she wore a more conservative 
woman's business jacket over a steel grey blouse.  Her thin lips were 
painted a bright red, which accentuated her creamy complexion.

Steve chuckled silently to himself. 'I wonder if he makes her wear 
those colors, or if she does it to impress him?'

"If you'll have a seat, Mr. Broddick will be with you in a moment."

The sound of her voice seemed to break the spell and brought his 
thoughts crashing back to the situation at hand.  She never looked 
directly at him.  Her eyes remained locked on a super thin LCD 
screen embedded in the top of her desk as she typed on a keyboard 
that Steve couldn't see.  She simply nodded towards a pair of 
expensive leather chairs off to her right.

Steve reluctantly sat down.  He would have preferred to remain 
standing, at least then he might have been able to pace away some 
of the butterflies which that were partying in his belly.  His sweaty 
hands squeezed the soft leather of the armrests as his thoughts 
turned to home.

'How am I going to tell my family that I've lost my job?  How can I tell 
them that everything we've worked so hard for is... is over?'

------------------------------------------------------------

The front door of the Johnson home burst open and there in the 
foyer, exactly as she'd fantasized, stood her son Tommy, soaked to 
the bone and dripping on the tiled floor.  Justin stood right behind 
him, erasing any hope of actually repeating the fantasy in real life. 

'My god,' she cursed herself, 'what did I think was going to happen?  
This is crazy.  Why do I feel so... let down?'

"Holy shit, dude.  That was fuckin' awesome!  Oh, damn... Sorry Mrs. 
Johnson."

"Hi Justin." She forced herself to smile. "What was so awesome?"

"Your son." He laughed in disbelief. "He's a pimp!"

"What?" She giggled when she caught the blush her son was trying 
to hide.

"He's a total player!  A Mac-Daddy, a lady killer, a stud!"

"Knock it off." Tom punched his friend in the shoulder and blushed a 
deeper shade of red. "It wasn't that big of a deal."

"Wasn't that big of a deal?" Justin turned to her, his face full of 
excitement. "Your son is my hero!"

Mary tried not to chuckle at her son's expense, but the way Justin 
was making him squirm was priceless.  She'd known Justin just 
about as long as she knew her own son.  The two of them had been 
inseparable since they were three years old, and on more than one 
occasion she'd felt as though Justin was one of her own.  On the 
outside they were opposites, Tommy the jock and Justin the slacker, 
but when it came to friendship the two were one of a kind.  Justin was 
the yin to Tommy's yang, so to speak.

"Okay boys, stop dripping on my floor." She tossed Tom the towel 
she'd been holding, but wasn't quite sure when she'd picked it up or 
how long she'd been holding it. "Dry off, the both of you."

"You should have seen him Mrs. J, he stormed the beach and took 
no prisoners.  I never thought that Tommy, of all people, could be 
such a..."

Tom hurriedly dried himself from head to toe before purposely 
whacking Justin in the face with the damp towel in an attempt to cut 
off his sentence.  His plan failed, as Justin just continued on without 
missing a beat. "No offense, Mrs. J, but I always suspected you may 
have been raising a pillow biter..."

"Dude, that's my mom you're talking to."

Most parents would have made sure that "Cooper kid" stayed far 
away from their own children.  He was brash, cursed like he made a 
quarter every time he uttered 'fuck', had long hair (too long even for a 
hockey player), and listened to heavy metal.  But there was more to 
him than what other parents saw.  There was sweetness within, a 
kindness that could only been seen once you disregarded the 
superficial.  He was loyal as could be to her son, and on more than 
one occasion took a beating defending him.  Mary couldn't 
remember a time in her son's life without Justin right there by his 
side, and that's why she allowed him some leeway when his mouth 
began to spout inappropriate language.

"But after what I witnessed today?  I'm going to have to rethink 
everything I thought about him."

"Come on, let's go into the kitchen.  I have some hot cocoa waiting to 
warm you up, and you can explain to me what you're talking about."

"Wow, sure thing Mrs. J." Justin returned the wet towel to Tommy, 
whacking him twice as hard with it. "My mom never greets me at the 
door with hot chocolate.  You're spoiled."

------------------------------------------------------------

His position on the chair offered a clear view under the glass desk.  
He fought with himself not to look, but he couldn't help it.  His eyes 
darted, stealing glimpses of what she offered to his ever hungry, 
voyeuristic desires.  The secretary kept her legs together, her thighs 
blocking the place he hoped to find open to his gaze, but he didn't 
give up on trying to see more.  Every time she shifted in her seat, 
even slightly, his eyes wandered up her stockings.  His heart raced 
with each stolen glance, desperately hoping that she wouldn't catch 
him, but he couldn't stop.

Twin doors made of a dark stained wood opened simultaneously, 
ending Steve's voyeur game.  A tall man with chiseled features 
strode confidently out of the room beyond.  He was dressed in a 
business suit, but seemed uncomfortable in it.  As he walked his 
eyes scanned the room with a hard intensity that he tried to conceal 
with a warm smile directed toward the secretary.  When the man's 
gaze landed on him, Steve couldn't help feeling as though he'd just 
been sized up for a possible fight, but the man moved on towards 
the elevator with little more than a kindly nod in his direction.

The doors of the elevator opened without the man even touching the 
call button.  Once inside he spun around in time to see another door 
in the reception area open.  His eyes narrowed, focusing fully on the 
new arrival emerging from the stairwell which led to the rooftop 
helipad, but the new visitor's back was to him.  Steve turned to look 
at the newcomer as well, and was stunned to find he was looking at a 
man who could have been the other's twin.  Steve glanced back to 
the elevator to catch the first man's reaction, but the doors had 
closed.

The newcomer didn't smile as the first had, but he did scan the room 
in the same way.  When his eyes fell on Steve it sent a cold chill up 
his spine.  The man seemed to look right through him, as if he were 
nothing more than a nuisance to be brushed aside, making Steve 
wish he could hide behind the large leather chair he was seated on.  
The man's eyes paused for a second before he turned his attention 
to the secretary.

"He in there?"

"Yes," the secretary answered flatly, unfazed by the man's cold 
demeanor.

Without fully waiting for the answer, the man strode through the 
double doors, which closed quickly behind him.

"Looks like your meeting will be delayed." The secretary spoke to 
Steve without making eye contact. "There's coffee, if you want."

"No thanks." Steve settled into the chair. "I'm jittery enough as it is."

"For what it's worth," the woman tried to hide a smirk, "just about 
everyone in the building wants to thank you for what you did to that 
prick.  Personally, I think you deserve a medal."

Steve smiled nervously. "Thanks, but I think I'd prefer to keep my job 
instead."

------------------------------------------------------------

Mary stood in the kitchen leaning against the counter as Justin retold, 
with great flair, the day's 'awesome' event concerning her son.  
Tommy sat at the breakfast bar, his eyes cast down to the tiny 
marshmallows slowly dissolving in hot chocolate as his cheeks 
burned crimson.  Bethany sat on the stool next to her brother, and 
though she hadn't bothered to say hello to either of the boys when 
they joined her, it was clear that she was listening intently to every 
detail of the story.

"Okay, so he's all like, 'no man, I don't want to', and I'm all like, 'dude, 
don't be a pussy, just go and say hi', and do you know what this guy 
does?"

Mary shook her head.

"He walks right up to her, backs her against the wall, and then... he 
just... dude, it was awesome!"

Mary couldn't help but get caught up in Justin's enthusiasm. "What?  
What did he do?"

"He kissed her!"

"What?" She was shocked by her son's boldness.

"You heard me, he kissed her!  Walked right up to her and just 
started making out as if they were in the backseat of a car up at 
Pussy Point!"

"Justin," Mary scolded, trying hard not to laugh. "Watch your 
language." 

Now it was Justin's turn to blush. "Er... sorry Mrs. J.  Heavenly 
Heights is what I meant to say, just got a little carried away."

Justin wasn't the only one getting carried away.  A memory flashed to 
life in Mary's mind, one from a long time ago.  A cold winter night, 
fogged and frosted windows, cramped space and squeaky vinyl 
seats, fingers struggling with tight buttons and tricky zippers, warm 
flesh and hot needs.  The memory brought a flush to her skin, one 
that grew from her belly and spread out to fully envelop her 
completely.  For a moment she was there again, there in the 
backseat of a boy's car.

It was late January, she was out way past her curfew, her parents 
were going to be pissed, but she didn't care.  He was all that she 
cared about, all that she needed, all that she wanted, and he was 
going to be her first, she was giving herself to him, forever.  He was 
older, a Senior on the Varsity football team while she was no more 
than a Freshman cheerleader.  But he had chosen her, asked her to 
come out with him, just the two of them.

He was strong and confident.  She was shy but determined.  They 
wrestled, they kissed, they groped, groaned, growled and purred.  
He was her first, but he didn't stay.  She offered him forever... but he 
only wanted one night. 

Mary cleared her suddenly tight throat. "So you finally kissed 
Debbie?"

"Mo-om." Tom's head popped up at his mother's question. "I don't 
think I want to talk about this anymore."

Justin smirked at his friend. "You haven't been."

"Yeah... well..." The gears in Tom's mind went spinning, searching 
for some way to get out of this embarrassing situation. "Dianne was 
there, too, and I didn't see you making any moves."

"Ooo..." Mary chided. "Who's Dianne?"

Justin squirmed. "Uh, no one."

"Justin's been in love with her since the third grade," Tommy offered, 
glad to have the upper hand.

"Have not!"

"Oh bull." Tom laughed, stretching across the narrow countertop to 
poke his friend in the ribs. "For as long as I can remember, she's the 
only girl you've ever talked about."

"Yeah?  So?"

"So when are you gonna get up the guts to ask her out?"

"I don't know." Justin's eyes looked to his own marshmallows for 
support. "I guess... when the time's right."

"Tick-tock, tick-tock." Tom swigged his no longer 'hot' chocolate. 
"Better make your move before someone else does.  Who knows, if 
things don't work out between me and Debbie, I might just take a 
swing at her."

"You wouldn't." Justin's face drained of color.

"I would." Tom grinned wickedly, but it didn't last long and soon he 
was laughing at his friend's reaction.

"You're a jerk off." Justin ran around the breakfast bar and grabbed 
Tom in a headlock.

"Yeah, you'd love to jerk me off you big fag." Tom laughed hard as 
Justin dragged him from the stool with a crash.

"Boys!  BOYS!" Mary yelled to get their attention as they wrestled on 
the kitchen floor. "Come on, break it up."

"Sorry, Mrs. J."

"Sorry, Mom."

The boys freed themselves from each other and the fallen stool and 
made to clean up the spilled cocoa, but in the process nearly 
knocked over the trash can as they fought over who would clean it up 
first.

"Okay, okay, both of you get out of here before you make a bigger 
mess."

The pair of them skulked out of the kitchen, trading punches back 
and forth as they went.  Just as they started up the stairs Tom yelled 
down to his Mom. "Oh yeah, uh... Justin's spending the night, okay?"

Mary stopped wiping up the spilled chocolate.  It wasn't the best time 
to have a sleep over, not with everything that had been happening 
over the last few days.

"I don't know about that, kiddo.  Aren't you supposedly grounded 
after that fiasco yesterday?"

"It's my fault, Mrs. J," Justin called down. "We were supposed to get 
our science project done over the weekend, but I kept putting it off 
and now it's due tomorrow."

Mary shook her head. "Alright, but no messing around up there, got 
me?  It's been a very long day and I'm sure your father is just as 
exhausted as I am."

"No problem, Mom."

"Yeah, Mrs. J, you won't even know I'm here."

'Too late for that.' Mary returned to mopping up the chocolate as the 
boys thundered the rest of the way upstairs to Tommy's bedroom.  It 
wasn't until she started washing the three empty mugs that she 
realized Bethany was no longer in the kitchen. 'Huh.  Wonder when 
she left?'

------------------------------------------------------------

The double doors opened five minutes later as the grim man's 
meeting with Hollister concluded.  Once again he looked hard at 
Steve before disappearing through the door leading to the helipad.

"Mr. Broddick will see you now."

Steve pulled himself free of the plush seat. "Thank you."

"No, thank you." She smiled pleasantly at him.  It was brief, but it was 
enough to buoy his mood before he left the safety of the reception 
area, a place where he still had his job.

The double doors opened into a large conference room.  A dark 
mahogany table stretched the length of the space, surrounded by 
fourteen high backed chairs.  Floor to ceiling windows on Steve's left 
and right filled the space with natural light despite the darkening grey 
skies.  The two remaining walls were painted with a glossy faux 
marble finish of deep burgundy with veins of black.  A second set of 
double doors on the opposite side of the room were open, and from 
that room a deep voice beckoned.

"In here please, Mr. Johnson."

Steve made his way around the conference table, noting how plush 
the carpet felt even through his hard dress shoes.  As he entered the 
executive office of ADS World headquarters he was struck by how 
simple the decor was.  Windows on three sides offered stunning 
views of Highland.  A large antique desk was centered so that 
whoever sat behind it would have a clear view of the only door 
leading in or out.  Two large LCD screens occupied the left and right 
corners of the desk.  A cushy leather chair sat behind the desk while 
a much smaller one took up the spot on the opposite side.  Hollister 
didn't have any pictures of family on display, no plants to brighten up 
the room, or paintings on the wall.  His desktop was completely clear 
save for the twin monitors.  There were no pens, pencils, staplers, 
desk blotter, not even a phone to be seen anywhere.

Steve found his boss dressed in his trademark black suit, adjusting 
his crimson tie as he stared out of a window to his left.  From this 
angle Steve could see that the man's hair was thinning, but it still held 
its raven black color except near the temples, where it had turned 
silver.

"I thought we might be more comfortable in my office." His voice was 
cordial, but not overtly friendly. "Please have a seat, we have much 
to discuss."

Steve took the offered seat, noticing that its height was set slightly 
lower than the boss's own chair.

"I've been reviewing your file, Mr. Johnson." Hollister moved from the 
window, walked behind Steve, and closed the doors. "Very 
impressive."

The compliment took Steve off guard. "Thank you, Sir."

"I think we can speak to each other on a more... level playing field." 
Broddick moved from behind Steve to take his own seat behind the 
large desk. "Please, call me Hollister."

"Umm... okay." Now he was really thrown off guard.  Was the boss 
trying to make his firing easier by keeping things friendly?

Hollister scanned the two monitors as he spoke.  His dark brown 
eyes appeared almost black as they darted across the screens.  His 
face was creased with age lines, but they didn't make him appear 
feeble in the least.  This was a man who exuded intelligence and 
confidence, dignity and respect, wisdom and power.  Eighty years 
old or not, Steve felt very intimidated in his presence.

"I understand you had a... disagreement?  With another employee 
today.  Brice Parker?"

"Um... yes.  Yes sir, um... Hollister."

"It would appear that Mr. Parker initiated the conflict, is that correct?"

"Yes.  Though I, uh... I did throw the first punch."  'And the second, 
third, fourth...'

"Hmm." Hollister nodded, more to himself than to Steve. "I see."

The monitor to Steve's left slowly turned so that he could see what 
was displayed.  Four security videos were replaying the incident from 
different angles.  They captured everything, from Brice first 
staggering towards his cubical to when he made his bloody retreat.

"The audio capture corroborates your version of events as well." 
Hollister pushed a button on the armrest of his chair. "Mrs. Parker, 
are the incident reports prepared?"

"Yes, Mr. Broddick."

The secretary's voice piped into the office so crystal clear that Steve 
thought she was in the room with them.  Again his mind went into a 
tailspin. 'Mrs. Parker?  Is that... no, it couldn't be... Brice's wife?  
Hollister's secretary is Brice's wife?'

"Would you mind sending them to my office for review?"

"Certainly, Mr. Broddick."

"Thank you."

After a few seconds the monitor on Steve's right slowly rotated into 
view.  This screen flashed a rapid succession of incident reports 
filed electronically.  They moved too quickly for him to read 
completely, but he did manage to catch a number of names he 
recognized.

"These began filling my inbox immediately following your little tussle.  
Nearly eighty reports in total, and all of them in your defense, Mr. 
Johnson.  Not only did everyone on your floor rebuke Brice's version, 
but they have gone above and beyond the norm and included 
testaments to your character and professionalism."

As Steve watched the monitor flash one report after another, he 
couldn't help but get choked up. "I didn't know they felt that way 
about me."

"These things have a way of revealing themselves in ways we'd 
never imagine." Hollister reclined in his chair. "The mantle of 
'leadership' is one that many seek out, but few ever truly find.  It is 
not something that can be taught, but is a quality we are either born 
with or not.  The greatest leaders, the ones that history remembers in 
the best of light, are ones who become so not because they want to, 
but because circumstances demand them to.  They are pushed, 
prodded, and nudged by those around them, those who see that 
quality which can not be seen within oneself.  There comes a 
moment in any potential leader's life, when they must decide whether 
to stand up and be what they were born to be, or sit down and allow 
others to take the reigns away.  Mr. Johnson... Steven... I believe this 
to be your moment."

"I..." Steve's eyes continued to watch as the reports flickered on the 
screen. "I don't quite follow."

"ADS has grown by leaps and bounds over the last half century.  
We've evolved from a simple developer of transistors to something 
much, much more.  Companies under the ADS umbrella extend into 
every sector of the free market and touch the lives of consumers 
from the womb to the coffin, yet our name never appears on any of 
the products or services we provide.

"This has been both a blessing and a curse to our growth.  By 
staying out of the spotlight we've avoided the scrutiny of antitrust 
groups which would most assuredly label ADS a monopoly and seek 
to fracture us into smaller, more manageable corporations.  By not 
directly advertising the truly global aspects of ADS, we make it more 
difficult to convince possible clients that we are indeed the best 
company to handle their needs.  So, we've come to an impasse.  Do 
I risk losing control of my hard earned empire to guarantee growth, 
or do we continue on as we have, fighting for every contract that we 
can get our hands on and never being recognized as number one?

"Personally, I could live with staying in the background.  I've never 
been one to enjoy prying eyes and questions, but the company 
needs to grow, and the time for that growth is now.  What I need is 
someone whom I can trust emphatically, someone who is willing to 
make sacrifices for the good of the company, but whose employees 
will follow with loyalty and conviction.  I need a leader, Steven, 
someone who is destined to take the reigns of ADS and guide it to 
the future." Hollister made the twin monitors rotate back to their 
original positions so that Steve would focus on him alone. "Will you 
be that leader?"

"What?"

Steve felt as if the floor had dropped out from beneath him and he 
was tumbling through the air.  He'd entered this office expecting to 
be handed a pink slip, but now Hollister was offering him the keys to 
the kingdom.

"It's simple, really." Hollister smiled faintly as he clasped his hands in 
front of him on the desk.

"ADS will be divided in half.  You will be running one division, my son 
Drake will take up the other.  I will have final say on all company 
matters, though the legal paperwork will clearly state that I am no 
more than a financial consultant."

Steve heard the words, but his mind refused to believe what he was 
hearing.

"What?"

Hollister chuckled. "I know this is a lot to take in on such short notice, 
so I don't expect an immediate answer.  Go home, discuss it with 
your family, sleep on it.  Mrs. Parker is in the process of sending an 
information packet to your home email address so that you can 
peruse the details at your leisure.  I'm putting you in for a few days of 
paid leave; I think a week should be enough time to decide.  Come 
see me first thing next Monday with your answer."

Hollister stood and moved to shake Steven's hand.  For a moment 
Steve sat there, completely dumbfounded, but he managed to snap 
out of his daze and took the proffered hand.

"Thank you, Mr. Broddick."

"I look forward to your decision, Mr. Johnson."

Steve stood on shaking legs and slowly made his way to the door.  
As he was about to turn the handles, Broddick stopped him.

"I hear your son is quite the hockey player."

Steve stood in the open doorway but turned to face his boss. "Yes, 
yes he is."

"Got himself into a fair bit of trouble the other day."

"Yes, Sir, but... it really wasn't his fault, at least not entirely.  He's a 
good kid."

"Just like his old man." Hollister smiled. "I have some friends in your 
neck of the woods; I'll see what I can do to smooth this out.  No one 
should have to pay for standing up for oneself."

Again, Steve found himself blinking in confusion. "Thank you... 
again."

"Don't mention it." Hollister spun his seat so that his back was turned 
to Steve. "We family men have to stick together."

------------------------------------------------------------

When the last rays of the sun were no longer strong enough to 
pierce the dense storm clouds the falling rain began to mix with 
sleet.  It drummed a staccato beat against the fogged glass windows 
as the winds began whipping the chilling air.  The two boys huddled 
close, but not for want of warmth.  The glow of Tommy's computer 
monitor bathed them both in soft blue light, though the video playing 
on the screen was mostly that of flesh tones.  The speakers were 
turned down low, but the distinct sound of overacted pleasure could 
still be heard.

"Dude... I have to get a computer in my room."

"Yeah, but with your luck your parents would install Net Nanny on it."

"You're probably right." Justin sighed. "Can you burn me a copy?"

"Sure thing."

The squeak of a floor board caused both boys to gasp in fear.  
Tommy quickly clicked the video off before turning toward the 
stairway leading up to his attic room. "Someone there?"

"Jus' me," Bethany called as she started up the short flight of stairs.

"You're supposed to knock."

"Sorry." Beth stopped once she reached the top and grinned at her 
blushing brother. "What are you guys up to?"

"Nothin'," Justin blurted out, but couldn't bring himself to look at her as 
he lied.

"We're working on our science project." Tom quickly launched his 
browser and sent it to find Google. "What are you doing up here?"

"I was bored." Without further invite, Beth strolled into the room and 
belly flopped on the bed. "Dad's not home yet and Mom's doing 
laundry."

"So you came to bug us then?"

"Yep," she answered with a chipper smile.

"I don't think so." Tom made a scoot gesture with his hand. "We've 
got a lot to get done."

"Aww... come on." She pouted. "Please?" 

"Not this time."

"Fine." Beth grudgingly pulled herself off of the bed, taking the 
sheets and a pillow to the floor along with her. "You're no fun."

Tom rolled his eyes at Justin as his sister stomped off toward the 
stairs. "We can do something together tomorrow."

"Hmmph... You'll probably be too busy with you're boyfriend."

Justin made a confused face as Beth purposely slammed the door 
shut behind her. "Hey, what did I do?"

"Got me," he said with a shrug. "She's been acting weird all day."

Justin shook his head as he studied his friend. "She's not the only 
one.  Seriously, what got into you today?"

"What do you mean?" he answered, though he knew exactly what 
Justin was talking about.

"Oh, come on Don Juan, fess up.  One minute you're too chicken to 
go into the coffee shop and face her, the next you're dry humping 
her against the wall.  Are you on drugs?  Hmm, can I have some?"

"I'm not on drugs, ass-face, and don't being saying shit like that in 
front of my folks or they might start believing it."

"Okay, then if you're not high on something, what gives?"

"I don't know." Tom kicked off his sneakers and sent them hurtling 
into a corner to join three other pairs. "I... I just saw her there... 
and... well... I felt like I had to kiss her."

"Yeah..." Justin laughed. "I hate to tell you, but that was more than 
just a kiss.  Dude, I think you made her cum."

"Shut up."

"Seriously dude, when you walked away she couldn't stop shaking, 
she kinda just melted to the floor and her friends had to go help her.  
I think you made her cream her panties."

"No way." Tom shook his head. "I think she was running a fever or 
something.  It was hot in there, and I guess the kiss took her off 
guard... and well, she just fainted."

"I'm tellin' ya, she came.  Right there in front of me, her friends and 
everyone else in the store, you kissed her and it popped her cork."

Tom tried to remember the event as it happened, but the details 
eluded him. "Really?  You think?"

"She was a mess afterward, sobbing and shaking.  Kept saying shit 
like 'don't leave me' and 'I'm yours forever'."

"Why would she say something like that?"

"Cause you rocked her world, that's why."

Tommy tried to smile, but something didn't feel right.  He couldn't put 
his finger on it... but he knew that something about what happened 
today was very wrong.  His hand wandered into his pocket, his 
fingers seeking out something without his mind being consciously 
aware.  The smooth stone cross comforted him, eased his troubled 
thoughts, and soon enough he forgot about them completely.

Tom stroked the cross between his index finger and thumb. "We 
should get to work."

We already have, Tommy... we already have...

------------------------------------------------------------

On the other side of town, Doris and George Ferguson were sitting 
down to an early dinner.  Though the food on the table made their 
mouths water, their thoughts were drawn upstairs where their 
teenage daughter lay tossing and turning amongst sheets drenched 
in sweat.  She'd been brought home by her friends who were quick 
to explain that the Ferguson's little girl was having 'boy' problems and 
was definitely not suffering from the effects of illegal drugs.

Neither parent wanted to believe their princess could possibly be on 
something, not their little girl, she'd never... but as the hours passed 
without her condition improving, thoughts of ambulances and 
emergency rooms began to encroach upon their perfect little world.



Continued in Chapter Fourteen....


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The Coming Dark 13