Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Infestation, Part 1 of 4
   by Nysidra
   Occult Horror
   Summary: What if there were a cult that truly tapped into something
beyond themselves?  What if their 'special child' was born?  What if that
child were unleashed on the world?
   <->
   -_ Pitch _-
   The bright eyed, young, perky blond beamed from her post at the double
glass doors.  "You said you would give us at least a week.  What has
happened in the past three days that you'd ruin being part of something so
profound?"
   Preston took a slow breath, adjusted his glasses.  He pushed them too
far up his nose, took them off and cleaned the lenses with the end of his
shirt.  This was going to be an uphill battle, but all he had to do was get
outside the building.  "I understand that."
   "I can schedule a conversation with you about your concerns."
   That would not go well.  Preston wanted his wallet and his keys and to
get out the front door as quickly as possible.  "I'd rather not.  It's
nothing against the group.  I'm not a good fit."
   "We are a family, your family.  You can see how it would upset us that
you just want to walk away?  Do you think this is the best way to deal with
uncertainty and conflict?"
   Sometimes.  Most of the time.  Preston shook his head.  The fresh-faced
youth was probably hand-picked for door duty.  If the brain washing didn't
take, then her massive bust would slow their departure.
   Her standard beauty, much like the group's far-fetched pitch, did not
work on him.  He'd been promised proof of human advancement and found a
commune of fluffy mysticism.  What was he going to learn in four days that
he hadn't in three?
   Preston had researched and investigated the House of Garai from the
outside.  He read every article and listened to every rumor he could find.
The more he discovered, the greater he hungered to get within the compound
walls.
   Gary Murdock, a stout man with a round, red nose, answered him with the
typical cult line: the only way to know is to experience.  Three days ago,
Preston walked through those doors.
   Three days to shatter his illusions.  He would not last the trial week.
Quacks, lunatics, and starry-eyed fools filled the House of Garai, floor to
ceiling.  They lived under the delusion that drinking thick goop and
sitting in a circle calling out foreign names would effect change at the
molecular level.
   Complete rubbish.  Preston at least expected the heavy use of drugs
combined with conventional eugenics.  The next four days wouldn't come with
group, kinky, or even partnered sex.  Nothing so salacious.  Their
'nutritional shakes' contained run-of-the-mill protein and minerals and
thick fruits.  Most of the children were painfully below average, mentally
and physically, nothing like the next step in evolution preached by the
charismatic Greg Rutherford.
   "Emily, I don't want to have a conversation.  I want my belongings, and
I want to leave.  I do not want to be here."
   She looked as if he said he wanted to kick her puppy, and Preston felt
as bad.  He spent half an hour practicing that line before it felt normal.
He didn't predict the effect it would have on her.
   "I'll get the paper work," she whispered.  Emily shuffled through the
drawers behind the gleaming front desk.  He couldn't find a panty-line
through her cobalt blue tights.
   Preston put his back to the desk and gave the elaborate great room a
final look.  The entry-way managed to look expansive and bright without the
typical cold accompaniment of cult strongholds.
   Soft, feminine laughter echoed off the vaulted ceiling.  The woman had
short, curly black hair dyed with purple and sea green streaks.  Next to
Douglas she looked like a child, just shy of five feet tall, if that much.
She waved to him, her eyes bright like sun-kissed honey.
   Preston stared down at the marbled tile, seeking patterns in the iron
gray swirls.
   "Brother Preston?  I have the exit paperwork for you to fill out."
   "A moment," her light tone rang clear as a bell.  She had on beige
ballet flats.  "Are you leaving us?"
   "I..." Preston had prepared an answer for that question.  Time stretched
on, but his brain never supplied the words.  Three whole days and he'd
never laid eyes on her.  His face warmed, heart raced.  Nerves rattled,
wiping him of any ability to articulate himself.  His tongue swelled and
mouth went dry.  His whole body rocked with the beat of his heart.
   She wasn't wearing a bra.  A small handful each, those breasts were cast
in sharp relief by the thin olive green tee.  He could make out the shape
of her areola, the flat nipple.
   A drop of sweat rolled down the right side of his body, another rolled
down his spine.
   Where had this little goddess come from?
   "Emily?" She looked over his shoulder, but he never took his eyes off
her.  This close, her iris captivated him: bright honey colored with a dark
ring around them.  Luscious dark pink lips, almost no make-up, round flared
nose.  She couldn't weigh more than a hundred pounds.
   "Yes, sister?"
   "What did his conversation reveal?"
   "He didn't want one.  I tried."
   She moved like a bird of prey, her hawkish gaze froze him in place. 
Perspiration covered his forehead.
   "Would you have a conversation with me regarding your reservations?  I
heard you were a brilliant man.  College graduate, masters?"
   Heard?  What did she hear?
   Preston nodded.  He cleared his throat, but his mind was still
flat-lined.  She called him brilliant, but he couldn't think of a word to
say.
   "Well?" Her smile sent the bubbling in his head to his groin.
   "Yes." He didn't know what she asked, but the answer was yes.  Anything
she wanted, for the moment: yes.
   "Put those away.  Reserve a room for me."
   What harm could a conversation do?  What did an extra day matter?  If
she was as crazy as the rest of them, he could still leave afterward.
   "Tomorrow morning?"
   "Yes," he said.
   She winked and made a motion towards Emily.  "I look forward to seeing
you in the morning."
   ***
   Preston lay in bed replaying the sound of her enchanting voice, the
pixie shape of her body.  Her skin looked warm to the touch, probably
tasted like gingerbread and chocolate.  If Tinkerbell fronted a punk rock
band, she'd be ...  she'd be ...
   He bolted upright in bed.  He never learned her name.
   That morning he was one of the first around the breakfast table.  He'd
seen the rooms used for upping the dosage on the brain washing.  He wanted
to avoid this step, but it would be worth it for her.  He could get to know
her, figure out why she was here.  He could leave afterward, any time he
wanted.
   "Preston?"
   He was smiling before he turned to confirm the voice that called his
name was hers.  "Sorry, don't think I know your name."
   "Skylar." She led him to the interrogation-sized conversation room.
   Preston finger-combed his shaggy hair back from his face and tapped the
bridge of his glasses.  'Please don't let them be crooked.'
   Instead of the typical furnishings of an interrogation room, there was a
single couch, three gray cushions and a thick cream rug with fluid designs.
   She flopped down onto the floor cushion and patted the one beside her.
   Preston didn't sit too close, but not as close as he wanted.  He cleared
his throat, "So..."
   "You think we're a bunch of lunatics."
   His coughing fit lasted several minutes.  His eyes watered.  He could
have spent the whole night imagining how this 'conversation' was going to
go, and never approached her candor.  Preston removed his glasses and
giggled while cleaning them.
   Skylar laughed with them, a high, girlish laugh, full of sunshine and
merriment.  "Now that we've established that." She took his hand.  Her
fingers were cool, skin soft.  "There are certain things we don't reveal to
newcomers.  That's why we use the week.  Some secrets require dedication to
learn.  You were evaluating the house, but the house also evaluates you."
   Preston had to look away from her to gather his thoughts.  He was being
evaluated.  "How long have you been with the house?"
   "Ten years."
   "House Garai?"
   "We didn't call ourselves by any fancy names in those first years.  The
house names are a recent development."
   "Where have you been?" Preston cast an apologetic glance before picking
at the leg of his trousers.  "I mean ...  I haven't seen you."
   "Overseas assisting with the establishment of a new house.  No matter
where I am, my dedication to the pact has remained strong."
   Pact.  A promise.  Not pack, the hive mentality that also ran
concurrent. Preston needed to ask about the group, not her.  "Are you
visiting?"
   "No, this is my home.  What about you?  Do you want to be a part of the
next step in human advancement?"
   "That's why I came here." Preston met her eyes and fought his nerves. 
"I want to know what is next.  I want to be a part of that.  So, far, I
haven't seen anything that says I'm looking in the right place."
   "I know how that feels." Her eyes lowered along with her voice.  "I have
something I want to ask you."
   Preston moved closed to her, eager to hear what had this tiny
firecracker thinking twice.
   The handle on the door turned and a round brunette waved.  "Skylar? 
Sister Elizabeth has been asking for you."
   "Thank you." Skylar lifted his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. 
"I'd like to continue our conversation tomorrow."
   Tomorrow.  Another day.  He watched her slight frame, trying to memorize
every movement.  What would another day hurt?  Nothing would change.  He
didn't have any pressing appointments.
   If he left now, he'd never see her again.  Never learn what she wanted
to ask him.
   Preston headed upstairs and back to his room.
   -_ Ritual _-
   Over the next two weeks, Preston learned little about the House of
Garai, but plenty about Skylar.  She traveled the world to speak with
religious scholars, philosophers, and historians.  She was 41 years of age,
but looked a few years shy of legal.  She had been involved with the house
from its inception, curious about spiritual beings and their interest in
humanity.
   Preston lay beside her in the sun room.  She had on a bright yellow
bikini, her skin glistening with oil.  As much as his body longed to be
joined with hers, he followed her lead, basked in the refreshing sanity her
presence afforded him.
   "I met Douglas on an international flight, purely by chance.  I was
headed back home, fresh off a trip to investigate the Haunville drawings.
Do you know them?"
   "Yes." Preston had no idea.
   "We got to talking about them.  I revealed my quest for truth, and he
told me about his goal of applying that truth.  You see, the advancement of
our species, of our cultures, comes from collaboration." Skylar rolled onto
her side.  "Just as we work with other nations, there are powers that have
agreed to work with us.  One power in particular has agreed to better our
children, and, in turn, they gain a spiritual advantage."
   Preston shook the fog from his brain.  Their conversation had taken a
hard turn into the one thing he'd joined the house to discover.  "What are
you saying?"
   She sat up, leaned over him, and put her hand on his cheek.  "I want to
have a child with you, not just any child, a child that will embody that
next step, the answers you and I have sought for so many years."
   Preston lay still, even breathed softer, thinking, reviewing the words
he thought he heard.
   Skylar giggled and kissed the tip of his nose.  "You heard me right,
silly.  A ritual will be involved.  People will be there when we," her grin
broadened, "make the attempt.  You will become a full member of the House
of Garai.  You will take up the pact.  This won't be anything like a
typical pregnancy, if one results at all.  The process requires faith, and
most of all, dedication.  The nutrition regimen alone can be daunting.  I
think we can do it.  I think I could be successful with you."
   "You want to have a child ...  with me?"
   "Yes, do you want children, with me?"
   "Yes!" Whatever Skylar wanted, yes.  However she wanted it, yes.
   He got his kinky partnered sex after all.
   ***
   Preston, didn't know what a 'typical' pregnancy was like, but the
process began well in the realm of the strange.  Samuel, a stout, portly
man with a pinched face, presented Skylar with a steaming cup of thick
greenish beige liquid.
   She drank it, face screwed up in disgust, prior to the ceremony.
   They began by conjuring the host - several of the spirits of their chief
Zorient, Garai.  The House of Garai rarely spoke of other deities or in
religious terms familiar to Preston.  The Zorient were a species of spirits
from a universe parallel to their own.
   This is the mythos that intrigued Preston from the start.  Other
ceremonies conducted by the house called upon a Zorient by name, but not
this time.  It welcomed all the spirits affiliated with Garai to attend and
bear witness to the creation of a potential vessel.
   The language disturbed Preston, but what was he to say?  He already
agreed.  The love of his life had already drank that foul liquid.  The
house had done this several times.  Skylar told him how she had come to
envy every woman swollen with child, every infant cry or laugh.
   Skylar removed her robe and Preston remembered why he stayed, why he
went through with these rituals, came to embrace their faith, why he'd done
his own share of recruitment and 'conversations.' He wanted to take those
next steps, to be a part of something greater, to be a part of her.
   When his time came, he removed his robe.  He drank from the cup and
painted symbols on her chest and belly.  She then did the same to him.
   Around them, members of the House of Garai, his family, sat around them
to witness their union.
   The first time he slept with her, the first time he entered her, was in
the company of witnesses.  It didn't effect his performance.  Nothing could
dampen his desire to be inside her, to have her straddling him, taking his
cock in her hand, smiling with that impish curl to her lips.
   Her warmth wrapped around the iron shaft of his cock.  Preston never
considered himself a large man, neither in height or weight, but with
Skylar, he felt like a mountain.
   She leaned forward, licked his bottom lip.  She rolled her hips,
squeezed his shaft, fucked him in a way he had never experienced.  "I love
you, Preston."
   That's what made being 'one of them' worth it.  She kept him sane when
he had to speak and act contrary to his rational mind.  This was his first
time with her, and he made it last, keeping his erection, keeping her
moaning, until, at last, he filled her with his semen, clutching her tight,
their sweating bodies squished together.
   None of the members knew how many Zorients accepted the call.  None of
them were aware that a Zorient remained with Skylar, one attracted by their
profound lust for each other, when the others turned to leave.  This
Zorient waited as Preston's sperm sought out Skylar's waiting egg.  It
provided something of itself to meld with the zygote as it developed.
   -_ Aiden _-
   "I'm one of the lucky ones.  I don't have to have faith.  I know that
the Zorient want to work with us.  I have living proof of the pact.  If the
world knew what we were doing, we would be hunted, persecuted.  That is why
so many of your more advanced teachings must be kept secret from new
members.  Not that there haven't been mistakes in the past.  I know the
effort it must take to remain cooped up, but you're going through a very
special time right now.  Our doctors are equipped to deal with whatever you
need.  Don't take my word for it.  Let me show you."
   Aiden imagined Father Greg turning around, looking behind the chairs,
under the tables, behind doors.
   "Aiden?" He called from the next room over.
   Aiden ducked down lower.
   "He must have gone outside.  I apologize.  He's usually very eager to
meet new mothers.  He'll turn six soon and he has grown quite anxious for
companions."
   Mother Karen said, "Aiden was born here?"
   "Yes, under the same ceremonies and procedures that you're using. 
That's why it's critical you stick to the regimen."
   "Brother Greg, please understand me.  I don't want to leave or stop, I
just need to see a doctor, a different doctor.  I've had children before,
and it was nothing like this.  Tell me this, why have so many gone wrong?"
   "Because of the path you want to take.  Strict adherence to the rules
means just that.  Nine months can seem like forever, but it's the sacrifice
you promised to make for your species.  It's the experienced mothers who
put up the most resistance."
   "Aiden," Mother Elizabeth stooped behind the couch.  "What are you doing
down here?"
   Aiden waggled his fingers in greeting.
   His father's foot steps rounded the corner.  Now they were both staring
down at him.  No one yelled or scolded him.
   "I want to see Mother Skylar," said Aiden.
   Several seconds passed and Greg gave a slight nod.
   "All right.  Let's go see her." Elizabeth reached down and lifted Aiden.
"Why didn't you want to meet Mother Karen?"
   Aiden leaned on his mother's shoulder.  "Don't like her."
   "But you like Skylar?"
   Aiden grinned.  "She has it right."
   "She'll be very glad to hear it."
   Elizabeth squared her shoulders and held her head a little higher as
they moved through the building.  Several people stopped talking and looked
at Aiden.  Some gestured toward them, no doubt telling the newcomers about
him.  Elizabeth's son was the crown jewel of the House of Garai,
intelligent, healthy, handsome.  The older he got, the more devoted their
membership became.
   Skylar greeted Aiden's arrival with a warm smile, her arms outstretched
to receive him.  The young boy bounded over and crawled into her lap.
   "Have you had your shake this afternoon?" said Elizabeth.
   "I was about to prepare it."
   "Don't trouble yourself.  I'll see to it."
   Aiden wrapped around Skylar until he was resting in her lap like a
content kitten.  The boy had never shown such a strong liking for any of
the pregnant women in the house.  Since Skylar's pregnancy, he had a keen
obsession for being near her at every available moment.
   Skylar knew better than to think the attention had anything to do with
her.  It was the boy or girl in her belly that drew Aiden to her lap
several times a day.
   Elizabeth returned with the thick shake.
   Skylar kept to the schedule, following every instruction no matter how
distasteful or unusual.  Most of Skylar's fertile years had been spent in
search of a child of her own, all with no success.  This was probably her
last chance, her final opportunity to have a baby.
   "How have things been?" Asked Elizabeth.
   "All right.  It's been hard to sleep at night, but Preston has been
great.  Samuel let himself into my room yesterday.  He's never done that
before.  Did he, with you?"
   "His invasiveness has a purpose."
   "And this stuff," Skylar made a face as she tipped the last of the
liquid back.  "I'll be happy when I never have to touch it again."
   "I still drink it." Elizabeth chuckled at Skylar's expression.  "Not as
much anymore, but I do.  You know what will happen if things go wrong."
   The 'less than optimal' births were a stark reminder that disobedience
had a harsh penalty.
   "Are there any others like Aiden?"
   "One or two mothers on the west coast have had great successes, but no
one is like Aiden.  We can't be sure what was different, but I have a
theory.  This is your first pregnancy?"
   Skylar nodded.
   "I couldn't have children before I joined the house."
   "Me neither."
   "And the way Preston loves you, that ceremony." She mockingly fanned
herself.
   Skylar grinned and caressed Aiden's back.
   "That's the passion Greg felt for me when we created Aiden.  It can't be
taught or faked."
   -_ Energy _All members of House Garai, more than double from when
Preston first joined, formed a line to lay their hands upon Skylar, speak
words of encouragement, and pour their energy onto her and the unborn child
within.
   This ceremony happened every other week beginning after her third
trimester.  Preston thought it was a bit much, but Skylar was happy,
swollen with his child.  That was all that mattered to him.
   Down the line he heard a voice raised in dissent.  Fatima, her thick,
black braids fanned out when she turned.  He'd met her more than a few
times to arrange the handling of his business once he decided to stay with
the house.  She managed the finances and investments for the group, and
judging by their accommodations, she was good at her job.
   Preston eased his way back toward the commotion.
   "Why does she get all of the attention?  She's doing just fine.  What
about my boy?  He lays dying while the rest of you give her your energy? 
He needs the care and love of our family.  I'll leave.  I'll walk out those
doors if you don't get someone to help him."
   "If you had surrendered to the regimen then you wouldn't have these
problems."
   "Don't blame my boy's illness on me.  I was bleeding.  I needed medical
attention."
   "We have doctors.  You should have turned to them."
   "Those doctors stopped caring about me the moment they learned I was
carrying a male.  You treat that fucking child like he's the second
coming."
   Preston glanced back.  If Skylar heard, she paid no attention to the
argument.  The 'second coming,' Aiden, stood beside her as he did for each
ceremony, keeping Skylar focused on the present.
   The man who had seen Fatima out, came back to the line and said, "The
pact will hold."
   Answered ever faithfully by each person in the room, including Preston,
"Our blood will see it true."
   Preston had asked about seeing an outside doctor.  It was only rational
to want a second opinion, but everyone spoke against it.  Other doctors
would not be able to comprehend the unique genetic signature that marked a
child as blessed by the Zorient.  Preston wanted evidence of these markers,
wanted to see it graphed and printed.  Were they giving up all their money,
time, and welfare for an elaborate hoax?
   Greg spoke to the room, moving from person to person.  "Constant energy
transference strengthens the Zorient energies within the child.  In order
to keep everyone safe, the energies must be calm and balanced.  This is
critical to the healthy development of our child, to which we are all
mother, and all father."
   Typical fear tactics.  Preston went to Skylar's side and kissed her
cheek.  As long as Skylar was happy, he would continue to play along.
   -_ Labor _Preston didn't expect a party when Skylar went into labor, but
the subdued attitude within the house was a surprise.  So many births had
turned out tragically.  Tension in the group got higher as the day went on.
After nine months, the underlying consensus was that even if Skylar's girl
turned out normal, she would probably be mentally deficient, or like some
of the other children, saddled with learning disabilities the group was not
qualified to deal with.
   All these problematic births meant less attention paid to the recent
rash of disappearances, people who ran off in the night, seeking help for
their children, never to be heard from again.
   The only person with any true excitement about this day was also too
young to know better.
   Aiden bounced in Elizabeth's arms.  He reached out for Preston, but only
to get that much closer to Skylar.
   "What are you going to name my wife?" Aiden asked.
   "That's for Skylar to decide after she's born."
   "She told you what she's thinking about?  Do you know which one you
like?"
   "The name is up to Skylar."
   Aiden stopped his wriggling and leaned close to his ear.  "No.  It is
not." He twisted out of Preston's arms and reached for Elizabeth.
   "Is he staying?"
   "This is where he wants to be."
   "He's six." Preston wanted to add that she was his mother, but it
wouldn't have done any good.  Aiden was the child-king, whatever he wanted,
he got.
   Skylar entered another contraction and everyone fell silent.  If those
screams were any indication, her contractions were about five minutes
apart.
   ***
   Skylar took her first easy breath as the pain subsided.  She opened her
eyes to twin shocks.  The midwife, Claudia, had a pistol sitting out
amongst the other instruments.  And Aiden, sitting on a stool opposite
Preston.
   "Is that necessary," Skylar said of the gun.
   Claudia nodded.  "I've been through enough of these children to know
that this is the best precaution."
   She stared at the long, white scar down the woman's right arm in a new
light.  Who was the gun for?  The mother or the infant?
   Elizabeth wiped the sweat from Skylar's forehead.  "That's not something
you'll have to be concerned about.  Everything has gone perfectly." She
looked to Preston.  "You'll need to lead the energy raising ceremony."
   Preston leaned over and gave her a kiss, but it was forgotten as the
pain spiked anew.  She had already been in this room for twelve hours,
cycling through bouts of discomfort and cramping.  She just wanted it to be
over with, to get her baby girl out into the world, to look upon the face
of her first child.
   ***
   "Has anyone seen Felix?" Preston searched the faces of the gathering
looking for his friend.
   Heads shook.  He went over to Dansil, another friend he'd made since
Skylar's pregnancy had become more advanced.  "Any word from Brother Felix?
He was supposed to be here by now."
   "I went looking for him an hour ago, nothing.  We can catch up with him
and give him hell about it later.  She's going to need us soon, and
everything we can give her."
   Another thing Preston had his doubts about were the efficacy of these
'energy building' rituals, but he would not carry the burden for a ritual
gone wrong.  He took his place at the head and led the ceremony.  They did
this once a month, often with Skylar sitting in the center.  The voices
around him were not as enthusiastic as usual, but he understood why.  He'd
heard the stories of children having to be put down upon birth, born dead,
or horrifically malformed.
   ***
   Skylar gripped each side of the bed until her fingers ached.  Her scream
filled the small room.
   "Aiden," said Elizabeth, "why don't you go outside with the others?"
   Aiden shrugged away from her.  He stayed beside the bed, whispering a
fervent prayer.
   "Aiden--"
   Further words were drowned by Skylar's scream.
   "Leave him.  I need you over here," said Claudia.  "All right, Skylar. I
need you to push."
   The building shuddered as if several large trucks rolled by.  The lights
dimmed and flickered.  For several seconds after the shaking stopped, no
one said a word or moved.  Within the birthing room, there was only
Skylar's belabored breathing.
   The voices of the men and women of the House of Garai took up the energy
raising chant, but their voices were stronger now, their prayers more
urgent.
   Skylar pushed once again and the shaking through the building was enough
to cause a glass to crash to the floor.
   In the darkness, an infant's cries filled the room.
   "I need some light in here!" Claudia yelled.
   The door opened and three beams of light filled the room.  Aiden stood
on top of a chair looking over Claudia's shoulder.
   The tiny, blood covered body opened its mouth and cried out again.
   Using the flight lights, Claudia cleaned the girl and looked her body
over.
   The lights came back on.
   "She looks healthy," said Claudia.
   Jubilation spread through the room.
   Aiden sat back down in the chair and pouted.  Of course she was healthy.
He knew that all along.
   "What's her name?" The boy yelled over the adult conversation.
   Skylar chuckled weakly and waved Aiden over to her.  "Her name is
Zaira."
   Aiden bounced up and down and crawled onto the bed to get to the infant.
He kissed her on the head.  "Hi, Zaira.  I'm Aiden."
   -_ Concerns _-
   It was odd to see the police cars in front of the house.  Odd, but
Preston didn't worry about them until he spoke with one of the detectives.
They were looking for Felix Romero, who had been hospitalized, beaten and
unable to communicate.
   Preston wasn't of much help, but the detective's questions made him
nervous.  They wanted to know about the children, whether or not they were
receiving proper medical attention, if they had received social security
numbers and birth certificates.
   "I'm sorry.  I just wouldn't know.  That's not something I would be
involved with."
   "You don't have any children?"
   "Not as of yet, but I'm hoping that will change in the future."
   "If it does, see to it that they are in the system."
   "Absolutely."
   That was how Preston learned that Zaira had no documentation, that
almost all the children of Garai had no record of birth, and no record of
their death.
   "Did you know Zaira doesn't have a birth certificate?" Preston whispered
to Skylar once the police had left.
   She shook her head and adjusted Zaira's feeding position.
   "That doesn't concern you?"
   "If she got one of those, then people would want to examine her.  You
know we can't have that."
   "What would be wrong with that?  If we're the next step in evolution,
shouldn't there be evidence, proof?"
   "So that we can be locked away?  Our children taken?  Persecuted?  No,
love, we have to perfect the process first.  Elizabeth and I have found a
way to do that."
   "Think about Zaira for a moment.  What happens when they find out about
the children?"
   Skylar's bright eyes met his.  "We're protected here.  Everything is
going well for us.  As long as no one talks about it, our secret is safe."
   "And when it isn't?"
   "We can talk about that then."
   A knock came upon the door.
   "That'll be Sister Helen.  Let her in, please."
   That was another thing unusual about living in the house, raising Zaira.
A near constant parade of people, male and female, stopping by to care for
his daughter.  A different person feeding her, bathing her, changing her,
reading to her, playing with her.  Skylar and Preston barely had much, if
any, sole responsibility.  The attention and reverence only grew as Zaira
got older.
   Greg entered with Helen and waved to Zaira.  He put his arm around
Preston's shoulders.  "Isn't it great to have such community around you? 
We were fortunate it was like this after Aiden was born.  The house hasn't
been this energized since.  You did well with her."
   "Not sure how much I had to do with it."
   "More than you realize."
   ***
   Skylar carried the folded clothes up to Zaira's room.  She heard Aiden
in the room with her, his voice low.  She looked at the closed door with a
sigh, turned the handle, and stepped inside.
   Aiden held Zaira in his lap.  He was rocking back and forth in her
chair. He continued speaking in low whispers as if Skylar had not entered
the room.  Zaira, a toddler now, did not acknowledge her presence.
   Skylar set the clothes in the drawer.  "Aiden, what did I tell you about
the door?"
   His whispering stopped, but he didn't answer.
   "Please leave the door open while you're with Zaira.  Understand?"
   Aiden smiled.  "Yes, I understand."
   Zaira giggled, but Skylar didn't see what she would be laughing about.
"Do you all want something to eat or drink?  Come down stairs and I'll fix
something." More silence.  "How about some cookies, Zaira?"
   Zaira buried her head to Aiden's chest, wrapped her arms around his
neck.
   "I'll be downstairs if you change your mind.  Aiden, leave the door
open."
   The moment she was in the hallway, Aiden took up his string of whispers,
too fast and low for Skylar to make anything out.
   ***
   Preston knew there was a problem as Skylar approached.  Her facial
expression was a perfect picture of frustration and fury.  He set his tools
aside and waited for her to tell him about it.
   "Have you noticed anything weird about Aiden when he's around Zaira?"
   Preston barely repressed his 'told you so' grin.
   "Okay, yes, I see it, but this is getting out of hand.  Zaira won't even
pay me attention."
   "You, me, and anyone else, and for a while now.  I've seen her around
other people.  When Aiden is in the room, you might as well give up.  He's
the only person she will listen to."
   "What is he saying to her?  I tried listening, but it's just gibberish.
What is that about?"
   Preston shrugged.  "It's not normal.  I can tell you that much.  She's
only two.  Even if she thought of him as her brother, there's no reason for
her to shut everyone else out like that."
   "I don't like it.  It's not healthy."
   "What do you want to do about it?"
   Skylar cut him a glance and folded her arms over her chest.  "I think we
should schedule a conversation with..."
   Preston tuned her out as she carried on, but only due to his own
hopelessness.  Skylar bought into the hoax that was the House of Garai
whole sale.  She believed Zaira was special and anyone who knew that would
take her away, that leaving the group would put them in danger.  Until she
saw the scare tactic for what it was, he was stuck here with his wife and
daughter - without the legal documents to claim them as either.  If Skylar
wasn't going to leave this place with him, then he was never going to
leave.
   ***
   "Zaira?"
   "She's in here," said Claudia.  "I was feeding her lunch."
   Skylar rounded the corner.  "I could have done that.  It's not a bother.
Zaira is a very easy child."
   Claudio smiled.  "That's why she's easy.  Now more than ever, you need
the family to help care for her.  Zaira's a healthy girl, energetic.  You
need all of use to help protect and educate her."
   "I'm her mother."
   "We're all her mother."
   Skylar bit her tongue.  She knew that children of Garai needed the
energy from others, but that's what the energy raising ceremonies were for.
Skylar wanted a child more than anything in the world, but she had to share
her with the house.
   She took her concerns straight to Douglas, pleading with him to see
reason.
   "Everyone loves Zaira, how can they not?  Her birth and her
vivaciousness have brought immeasurable joy to the house.  It can't come at
a better time." Douglas stepped closer to her and lowered his voice.  "Do
you remember the Sunny Vale house?"
   "Yes, I helped them after the floods.  Stayed there for half the year."
   "There was a raid at their facilities.  They had to close down.  We've
lost contact with many of the members.  I've requested a lock down on our
house.  It's not going to go well, but it'll go over much better with Zaira
and Aiden to bolster morale."
   "The children here need to socialize, see the outside world.  We can't
raise them in a vacuum."
   "That's not the safest option for them right now."
   "I'm just asking for a little time with my own daughter.  I see her
maybe half an hour a day if I'm lucky."
   Douglas grinned.  "You've very lucky to have so many willing to pitch in
with her care and love.  She will need the house if she's going to
socialize, as you put it.  Now, tell me you support me on this."
   "Yes, of course, Douglas." Skylar said with a bright smile, but
inwardly, she instead was thinking of Preston and his suggestions of
leaving the house.
   -_ Romance _Zaira looked up from her coloring book and beamed as Aiden
walked into the bedroom.  Once he locked the door behind him, she jumped up
from the floor and ran over to him.  She threw her arms around his neck and
giggled as he picked her up.  She covered his face with sloppy kisses.
   "I have something for you," Aiden carried her over to the bed.  He set
her down and pulled a small bone from his pocket.
   Zaira stared at the bone intensely, then reaching for it, she traced her
fingers over the grooves, her eyes closed.  "Squirrel?"
   "No."
   "Rabbit?"
   Aiden nodded.  "I found it yesterday."
   "Oh," Zaira's bottom lip stuck out.  "I couldn't find you."
   "You found me last night though."
   "Did you see the lions?"
   "Yeah.  You were riding the biggest one.  I barely saw you around all
his hair."
   "I know!" Zaira giggled.
   Aiden and Zaira had made a game of visiting each other in their dreams.
The first time was only a few months ago.  They had been talking about
going to the lake without any adults.  Aiden and Zaira took turns talking
about all the weird and crazy things they would find there.  That night,
Zaira had dreamed about the lake.
   When they saw each other the following day, Aiden was the one who
brought up the lake and everything they had done together, just like her
dream.  Sharing their dreams only worked if they talked about a place
before hand and planned most of it out.  It became one of their favorite
forms of play, creating new adventures to go on without anyone else around.
   "What should we do next?" said Aiden.
   Zaira's head shifted from one side to the next as she thought.  "Lets
play with the Zorients."
   Aiden shook his head.
   She pouted.  "Why not?  I want to see one.  Have you ever seen one?"
   "Yes."
   "Are they scary?  Do they talk?  What do they say?"
   "Some of them can be very scary.  I didn't know what they were for a
long time."
   "When?  How old?"
   "Not much older than you."
   "You think I'll see one?"
   "I know you will, one day.  Tell me when you do.  I'll help you make
friends, but leave them alone for now, okay?"
   "I will.  Promise, but ...  why can't we just dream about them?"
   Aiden shook his head again.  "We should be together when that happens,
for real.  When they are in dreams, sometimes they take over, and you can't
stop them."
   "Oh.  Okay."
   Aiden set Zaira in his lap.  "I know they'll like you.  I hear them talk
about you sometimes."
   "If we go to sleep together, then you could be here with me."
   "No," Aiden pinched her cheek playfully, then glanced to her bedroom
door.  "Awake is better.  We might need help if there are too many.  They
tend to crowd if you call them."
   Zaira stared at Aiden with her wide, bright eyes.  "Help with what?"
   "I'll be here with you." Aiden kissed her on the nose.  "Don't worry."
   The handle of the door rattled.  Both of them looked to the door.
   Zaira grinned.  "You're going to get in trouble again."
   "I'm not afraid of her." Aiden stuck his tongue out at the door.
   "Zaira," said Skylar, "open the door."
   Aiden hugged her closer and she rested her head on his shoulder.
   "Zaira?  Do you hear me?  Unlock the door."
   "I want to visit the water park again," said Aiden.
   "Make the water slides higher."
   Aiden nodded and agreement.  "The pool will have shiny fish in them."
   "Rainbow colors."
   "They'll nibble our toes."
   "Only a little."
   They laughed and added more detail to their next dream.
   The jingle of keys preceded the unlocking of her bedroom door.
   ***
   Skylar walked in and saw exactly what she expected.  Aiden, holding
Zaira on the bed, talking to her in a barely audible whisper.  Zaira looked
up at him with pure happiness, a smile on her face and when she spoke,
Skylar couldn't make out a word from her volley of soft whispering.
   "Aiden.  Go downstairs."
   Moments passed.  They carried on as if she hadn't spoken, as if she
wasn't in the room.
   "I'm not going to tell you again."
   The threat had no effect.
   "Zaira, get over here."
   Skylar chewed her tongue as she thought about going over and snatching
her daughter out of his arms.  How dare they ignore her?
   Aiden leaned down and pressed his nose to the top of Zaira's hair.  "She
smells nice.  I like this shampoo.  Don't go back to the old one."
   The little shit.  "Aiden, are you ignoring me on purpose?"
   "We were having a private conversation, which you rudely interrupted."
   "Rude?  You are a little boy.  What about your complete lack of
respect?"
   "I'm the one who commands your respect, as does Zaira.  You apologize to
both of us and leave."
   Zaira erupted into a barely repressed fit of giggles and Aiden followed.
They tumbled backwards onto the bed in laughter.
   Skylar balled her hands into fists.  She wanted to march right over and
give that brat a few brisk swats on his ass, but something wouldn't let her
take that leap.  Each time she thought she'd actually do it, she found she
couldn't move, paralyzed by what might happen.  How Aiden might react,
upsetting Zaira, what Elizabeth or Greg would say.
   Greg would teach him a lesson.  The moment Skylar was in the hallway,
the door slammed shut behind her.
   She screamed, jumped, and spun to reach for the door, but she didn't
open it.  When she turned her back they were on the bed, ten feet away from
the door.  Hand shaking, she backed away from the door and left them.
   Skylar went in search of Preston instead.  She found him at the counter
eating a bagel.  She cozied up beside him.  "I don't think Aiden and Zaira
should spend so much time together."
   Preston only nodded.  "Another member turned up two states away,
institutionalized.  No one can get in to see him."
   "Preston, I'm talking about our daughter."
   "I agree.  It's not safe for her here."
   "That boy doesn't have any discipline.  I don't want Zaira to be like
that.  This ...  this house isn't having a positive influence.  They should
not be spoiled like this." Skylar held her nutrition shake up to the
window.
   "What are you going to do about it?"
   She opened the top of the shake and poured it down the drain.  "Whatever
you want.  I know you're waiting on me."
   He pulled her into a kiss and hugged her tight.  "We can be out of here
in a day."
   -_ Drained _-
   Skylar sensed the bed bouncing from somewhere in the fog of her sleep.
What little sleep she had didn't do much of a job.  The mattress continued
to bounce.
   "Mommy Skylar," Zaira intoned.  Even after several months away from the
House of Garai, Zaira continued to refer to her as 'mommy Skylar.' She
continued to ask about Mommy Elizabeth, Mommy Helen, Mommy Fatima, and the
other daddy figures.  People Skylar tried to patiently explain that she
wouldn't see again her for a while.  Not never, not even Skylar was foolish
enough to think the house would leave them alone forever.  "Mommy Skylar!"
   Skylar groaned and opened her eyes to look as her little girl, jumping
and vibrant and beautiful.
   Zaira landed on her hands and knees.  "You're hogging the covers, Mommy
Skylar."
   She held the covers up for Zaira.  The other side of the bed was empty.
Preston was already gone to work.
   Zaira wriggled under the blankets and snuggled next to Skylar in bed. 
She put her tiny hand on her mother's face.  "Mommy Skylar."
   "Yes, Zaira, what?"
   "What are we doing for my birthday today?"
   Right.  That was today.  She needed to help bake the traditional
cupcakes.  She needed to get ice cream.  She needed to make Zaira something
to eat.  So many things to do, a long list of responsibilities that Skylar
felt too exhausted to tackle.
   It couldn't have been depression.  Skylar had been down right relieved
to be away from the house.  She and Preston were jubilant the whole ride
that night just three months ago.  She knew Preston was happy about it. 
She'd met the man just as he was about to escape - and just in time. 
Skylar had taken one look at the unassuming, bookish man and felt her heart
strings vibrating.  One look and she knew he was the man she wanted to have
her future children with.
   Skylar wanted more children, as many as her old womb could safely usher
into this world, but Zaira sucked up so much time and energy, that another
child would kill her.  Even with the entire house helping, that meant
Skylar was helping take care of all the other children.  She had thought
being alone with her only child would allow her the freedom to have more.
   Just as she was drifting back to sleep, a tiny pinch on her arm woke
her.
   Skylar stared at Zaira.
   "I want my pancakes."
   "I know.  Help mommy up."
   Zaira was only too enthused about that.  She pulled and pushed until
Skylar was on her feet, shuffling to the bathroom.  Her body felt stiff,
sluggish, as if she hadn't been sleep at all.
   Skylar looked in the mirror and frowned at her sunken, dark eyes,
unkempt hair.
   What was wrong with her?  Was she sick?
   Each time Skylar attempted to make an appointment with a doctor, fear of
what would happen next stopped her.  Going to a doctor, consulting others
about what went on might cause others to ask questions that she wasn't
ready to answer.
   She didn't have a shred of paperwork to prove that Zaira was her
daughter.  She took great comfort in how much they favored each other. 
Zaira had fairer skin, but darker eyes.  Her curls were large as quarters
and golden in sunlight.
   Skylar hummed to keep herself alert while brushing her teeth.  Her
gorgeous daughter never left her side.  Zaira caressed her thigh, played
with her night shirt, followed her like a shadow through the house.
   Usually the sisters helped with the 'birthday treats,' but today she'd
have to do it alone.  If only she had a shake.
   Skylar opened the fridge and pulled out the breakfast shake she bought
from the grocery store.  Multivitamins, nutrition shakes, supplements, and
tonics were the bulk of Skylar's food, but none of them had the same effect
as that weird goop Samuel served.
   What if that was the stuff that caused her fatigue?  What if she was
experiencing withdrawal?  She grinned.  Withdrawal, after six months?  Not
very likely.
   Preston had been tired more too, but that was more from the stress of
trying to get their life back together without revealing their location.
   It took an hour longer than it should have, but Zaira sat down with her
pancakes and the cupcakes were baking in the oven.
   "Will I see my husband soon?"
   Skylar groaned silently.  Today was going to be a typical day after all.
"Do you know what a husband is?"
   "The person you spend the rest of your life with." Zaira pinched off a
piece of blueberry pancake and dipped it in the melted butter.
   Her mouth open to correct her.  How would she understand?  "Right, of
course.  You'll see him soon."
   "You say that every day, mommy.  Today is my birthday.  He should be
here.  I don't like this.  I haven't talked to him in day and days.  No..."
She frowned over her pancakes, face pinched as if in deep thought.
   Skylar held her breath.
   "Nine weeks and three days," she whispered.  "That is a long time,
mommy. I don't like this.  Can you take me to see him instead?  Aiden has a
lot of classes now.  He has to learn the ceremonies.  I'm too young to
learn the big ones yet, but today I am six years old.  Aiden said he would
teach me."
   "Is that what you and Aiden were talking about when your door was
closed?"
   "Aiden and I talk about a lot of things.  Private." Zaira picked off
more pieces of her pancakes.  The fork lay untouched beside her plate.  "I
want to see Aiden for my birthday.  Go get him."
   The oven timer chimed.
   "Cupcakes!"
   Just in time.
   ***
   Preston arrived home to a whole daycare's worth of noise, but it was
only Zaira, running around the house, playing by herself as usual, talking
up a storm.
   "Long day?" Preston asked as he entered the kitchen.  Skylar had her
arms crossed around her head, her face planted on the table.
   "She's been yelling like that for two hours.  I think she's in some kind
of horse race.  I'm not sure if she's the horse or the jockey."
   Preston chuckled softly.
   "Daddy Preston!" Zaira squealed and her feet pounded the floor as she
sprinted into his arms.  "Do you have my presents?"
   "I do.  I do.  Have you been a good girl today?"
   "I have!" Zaira beamed.  "I've been playing with my friends, and I
haven't bothered Mommy Skylar at all."
   Her friends were the invisible sort.  Her imagination fighting to
replicate the one they left behind.
   "Yes," he picked Zaira up and let her cover his face and neck in kisses.
"I can see that, but you and your friends could probably be a little
quieter too."
   "I want to see Aiden.  Is he with you?"
   "No, sweet pea.  Aiden is with his parents."
   "Everyone is our parents.  Call him.  I want to talk to him.  They have
a phone at the front desk.  Daddy Richard works at the desk.  Call him and
tell him Zaira wants to use her birthday request to speak with Aiden." Like
an overgrown puppy she wriggled and jumped out of Preston's arms.  "Where
are my presents?"
   "You'll have them after dinner."
   Zaira stopped, put her hands on her hips and looked at Preston.  Skylar
counted the seconds, ten of the quietest moments in the house since she
woke up.  Then she turned and went to her room.
   "We can't call them," Skylar whispered.
   "I know that."
   "But, I think ...  I'm so tired.  I haven't been awake all week.  I
don't know what's happening.  What if--"
   "Don't talk like that.  I'll ask around, see if I can find something for
you without a doctor."
   "What if this is the work of the house?  What if I've been cursed for
betraying them?"
   "It would effect me too.  Do you really think they would do something to
harm Zaira?  As long as she's with us, we're safe."
   Skylar yawned.  "Could you finish dinner?  I need to ...  I think if I
go to be early then..." She yawned again.
   "Of course.  You rest.  I'll give her dinner and hopefully her presents
will take her mind off him for a little while."
   "Nine weeks and three days.  She hasn't gone for more than two days
without calling that damn boy's name."
   Preston put his finger to his lips.  Then looked to the hallway.
   "Whatever, I'll be in bed."
   ***
   Skylar was still asleep when Preston left for work that morning.
   He arrived to a house in considerable disarray.  He didn't find Skylar
passed out on the couch or in the kitchen.  He searched each room, walking
softly.  If Zaira wasn't bouncing around it meant she was napping, and that
was a blessing too precious to disturb.
   He found Zaira sitting on the bed at Skylar's feet.  Zaira's eyes were
red, face puffy.  It made Preston realize that he had never seen his little
girl cry.
   "She won't wake up anymore." Zaira whispered.  "I tried and tried, but
she won't.  I'm hungry."
   Preston rushed over and placed a finger to Skylar's cold neck.  He
turned her onto her back and the ashen complexion and stiffness of her body
told him the rest.
   He reached for the phone in his pocket and called the police.
   -_ Madeline _-
   "Daddy Preston."
   "Zaira, just call me daddy.  I'm the only one here."
   "You're the only one here because you won't taken me home.  I read about
vacations.  This one has lasted too long.  This is even longer than the one
where you go across the ocean.  We haven't seen anything or done anything
fun.  I'm not having fun.  This is boring."
   "Did you have a question?"
   "When are we going home, daddy Preston?"
   "We can't go back there, not ever."
   Zaira's expression darkened.  "Why?"
   "I think some of the people there are in danger.  Do you remember some
of the other people that went away and never came back?"
   "Like us."
   "Different from us, people who should have come back, but ended up in
the hospital?"
   Zaira shrugged.  "When are we going back home?"
   "Zaira, someone is out to hurt our family.  All of the family.  Your
mother and I took you away from there to protect you.  We need to stay
safe. Do you understand why?"
   "Because I am special."
   "Yes, you are a very special, very important person.  We made a pact to
see to your wellbeing."
   "The pact will hold.  The blood will see it true."
   "Yes," said Preston.  "Exactly."
   "Everyone can help keep me safe.  Aiden will keep me safe.  I want to go
home."
   Stubborn little broken record.  Preston buried his face in his hands,
but that only put him square before the bills that were going unpaid.  He
couldn't find anyone that would keep Zaira for more than a day or two.  She
ran baby-sitters off in record time.  No one wanted to be around her.  When
pressed for an explanation, Preston had a hard time understanding their
reasons.  Many of them seemed afraid to say anything at all, finally going
with 'she unsettled them.'
   That left a dwindling number of options.  The dead last of which was to
take Zaira back.  Leaving was the best decision he ever made, and he was
going to stick to it.
   The door bell rang.
   "You found me another person?" Zaira giggled and bounced excitedly.
   Preston was sure it was supposed to have a playful sound, but he
couldn't help but hear something sinister in that laugh.  He still didn't
know what she had done to run them off.  Maybe she didn't like being around
people who weren't family.
   That is why Preston went to his second-to-last option.
   "Her name is Madeline or Maddy.  She is your mother's sister."
   "Never met Madeline.  Is she family?"
   "Yes, Madeline is a member of our family."
   "I can get her to take me home!" Zaira ran to the door before Preston
could explain.  She opened the door, swung it wide and greeted Madeline
with a huge smile.  "It is a pleasure to be in your company, Mommy
Madeline. Thank you for coming to see me."
   Madeline looked ready for battle, but the sight of her niece melted her
heart.  "My goodness.  She's so cute!" Her eyes still had daggers for
Preston, but she laughed as Zaira put kisses all over her face.  "Preston."
   "Madeline." He nodded to her in greeting.  "Can I fix you some coffee? I
can make a fresh pot." He held up his cup.  "I've finished off the
morning's supply."
   "It's only ten.  You drank a whole pot?"
   "It's not hard when you're running behind Zaira.  She's a regular wind
up toy with no off switch." He laughed as he scooped out fresh grounds.
   "I'll have a cup.  I supposed we have a lot to talk about."
   "Mommy Maddy.  When are you taking me home?"
   Preston shook his head slightly.
   "How long was she there?"
   "Nearly six years."
   "And Skylar?"
   Preston cracked at smile at her memory, the way she had been when he
first met her, as full of energy as Zaira.  "Ten years when I met her.  She
was the only reason I stayed.  I was going to leave when I met her, but..."
he shrugged.
   "You finally got her out of that place.  Can't blame me for wishing you
had managed it sooner.  I can't remember the last time I saw or-- Ow!"
Madeline looked at Zaira with wide eyes.
   "I asked you a question." Zaira's light brown skin flushed red.
   "Excuse me, little girl, but I don't take orders from you.  Goodness,
her manners."
   "She's more than a little headstrong.  It's hard to break.  I don't know
how to begin.  That's why I need your help.  I need to get back to work,
settle Skylar's affairs."
   "Do they know what happened to her?"
   "Exhaustion as best as the coroner could tell.  I didn't see much cause
in explaining that she wasn't overworking herself to begin with.  That
would just invite more questions.  I think it had to do with how long she
was in that place."
   "We need to report them," she said.
   Preston shook his head.  Once glance to Zaira and he could see she was
about to boil over with frustration.  "Zaira, go get your things together.
Madeline will be with you in a little bit.  I haven't spoken to her in a
very, very long time.  So, I'd like to have a private conversation with
her. Do you understand?"
   Zaira stared at him for a moment, then back at Madeline.  Her head
tilted slightly each time, measuring them up.  "I'll be in my room." She
pointed to the clock.  "Don't forget my lunch."
   "I won't.  I'll start working on it right now."
   Madeline's mouth gaped open.
   "I know.  You don't have to tell me.  If I were standing in your place,
I'd be having the same reaction.  Trust me, that's the easiest way to keep
her civil.  She's young and headstrong.  I just have to take her slow. 
That place had a monopoly on how we treated her and the other children. 
Skylar knew it would be a problem, but it took me years to convince her to
leave."
   "Thank you for calling me.  How can I help?"
   "Did you plan to stay long?"
   "I retired a few years ago, my own children are grown.  I have nothing
but time and money, and if it will help my niece, then I'll use them both."
   "Thank you for that.  I know I seem like the enemy here, but I'm doing
everything I can to keep her safe."
   "Why did she call me mommy?"
   "All male and female adults were addressed as parents.  Shared family
and all that.  When I said you were family..."
   "She thinks I'm from the cult?"
   Preston winced.  Hearing the word spoken out loud was hard, but he
couldn't deny the truth of it.  "Yeah."
   "Hell of a place, keeping you away from the rest of the world, teaching
craziness, making spoiled little shits out of your children."
   "Please," Preston whispered.  Some things were not crazy, but secrets
he'd promised to keep.  Distance hadn't softened Preston's resolve on that
matter.
   "Do what you need to do.  I'll see after Zaira and help her become a
lovely young lady.  You did the right thing by calling me.  I just wish
Skylar had been the one to come to her senses earlier."
   ***
   Zaira needed her family.
   Preston poured his third cup of coffee.  It, plus the bottle of caffeine
pills kept him going.  Each evening he slept like the dead, and found it
harder to wake the following morning.  If Skylar's exhaustion had been a
disease, then he caught it, but nothing took the zing out of Zaira.
   He made a few phone calls to people to trusted within the house, a
couple that kept a cellphone in a secure location.  None of them were
returning his calls.  He worried about the people he had come to accept as
his family, but not so much that he would reach out to Douglas or Greg or
any of the other house leaders.  He wasn't ready to give up Zaira's
location or learn that his chronic sleepiness was a result of one of their
workings.
   ***
   "Zaira."
   "Yes, Madeline?" After only one day in her presence, Zaira assessed that
Madeline was not a member of her 'family' and was not going to take her
home.  Madeline didn't know about the pact, the rules, or the identify of
their principal father.  Zaira did not like Madeline.  The woman did not
know how to talk to Zaira, what she liked to eat, or what she needed.
   "What did I tell you about yelling in the house?"
   Zaira took a deep breath and screamed, "I don't remember!" She grinned
at the woman's scowling expression.  Soon Madeline would lose her temper
and start yelling, and Zaira would be the winner of the game.
   "Go into your room.  Right now!"
   Zaira frowned.  Her voice turned soft and lilting.  "Wait, what did you
tell me about yelling in the house?" She spun on her heels and went to her
room anyway.  She didn't want to be around that woman.
   ***
   Madeline counted her breaths as Zaira went into her room.  If the past
few days of behavior held, then she would stay in there, playing and
yelling and making nonsense animal noises for the next few hours.
   Madeline could use those hours to her advantage.  She went into
Preston's room and searched the shelves, drawers, boxes in the closet.  No
sister of hers would have willingly let her child turn into such an
uncivilized savage.
   Top shelf in the closet.  The shoebox had Skylar's name on it.  She took
the box down and looked through the group photos and books.  Many of the
notebooks had an odd symbol on the front along with the title "House of
Garai."
   The 'book' contained an agreement.  Madeline frowned as she skimmed the
words.  An agreement to use the womb as a portal for the Zorient to merge
with the unborn for the benefit of both species.
   Was it fiction?  She searched the book back and front looking for a sign
that she had found a creative outlet rather than...  Madeline's face grew
cold with the realization that her deceased sister actually believed this
garbage.  She surged with renewed worry for Zaira.  What had that little
girl gone through?
   Madeline looked up from the pile of papers and caught a pair of eyes
staring at her from around the corner under the dresser.  They had a glint
of yellow-green.  Did an animal get in the house?  She leaned over and made
out the small face.  Zaira.
   Maybe something shone in through the window and hit her face.
   "Zaira?"
   The girl didn't move, the eyes watching her didn't flinch.
   Time passed and the hairs on her arm stood on end.  She stood up and
Zaira crawled backwards, her eyes never leaving Madeline's face.  Once she
was from under the dresser, she side-crawled into the hallway.
   Madeline remained standing, frozen, unable to process what she'd just
seen the girl do.
   She was just playing a game.  It wasn't serious.  She was pretending to
be ...  what?
   After reading about something called a Zorient merging with unborn
children, then seeing her.  Zaira looked like a normal little girl.
   ...save for that glow in her eyes.
   She shook herself, briskly rubbed her hands up and down her arms.  She
walked down the hall and went to Zaira's room.
   A strangled scream caught in Madeline's throat.
   The girl was perched on top of the closet, crouched low as if ready to
pounce.  "You are not my family," she said in a harsh whisper.
   "I am your mother's sister.  Please, get down from there before you hurt
yourself, Zaira."
   Zaira grinned, the type of grin that didn't belong on a child.  The type
of smile you expected to see from your murderer, one without compassion or
empathy, filled instead with malice and thoughts darker than any young girl
should have.
   She jumped.
   Madeline didn't wait to see where Zaira landed.  The woman took long,
bounding strides back to Preston's room to gather all the paper work she'd
scattered.
   "Boo!" Zaira touched Madeline on her hips sending the woman into a
screaming fit.
   The girl fell onto her back giggling.  She sounded normal, looked
normal. Just a little girl playing a game, taking pleasure in a prank well
executed.
   Madeline put the papers away, mindful that her father would be home
soon, but she kept her eye on Zaira, as if she would become that other
thing just as quickly, as if the worse was anything but over.
   She put the box away, back in the closet on the top shelf.  Zaira was
standing on the kitchen table, her arms placed defiantly on her hips, eyes
narrowed in mock anger.
   "I'm hungry, Maddy.  Go get my lunch out the fridge and heat it."
   Instinctively, she wanted to scold the girl.  She knew better than ...
than a long list of things, but Madeline was sure that Zaira behaved in a
tactical manner, breaking each rule on purpose.
   She pulled out the chair and pointed to it before going to the fridge
and pulling out the covered dish.
   "Would you like to talk to me while I heat your lunch?" She hated being
reduced to this behavior, sounding like Preston, negotiating with a child
that typified the need for physical punishment.
   Zaira jumped off the table and sat in the chair.  "What would you like
to talk about?"
   Though, she could see how this worked better than scolding.  "Have you
done your reading this morning?"
   "I did my reading.  What were you reading?"
   "I have been reading about the House of Garai."
   "Good, but you don't belong in the family."
   "Why is that?"
   "You have a poisoned body."
   Madeline set the timer on her food and sat down to the table across from
Zaira.  "I have a medical condition.  Is that what you mean?"
   "Yes."
   "Why does that disqualify me?"
   "You read it already." Zaira leaned her head on her palm and looked
bored.
   "I did.  The House of Garai requires people who are in good physical
condition, so that they can give birth to children who are enhanced."
   Zaira gave a single nod.
   "But ...  what about the other children?  Not all children turned out
that way."
   Zaira shrugged.  "Sometimes, as people learn new things, they make
mistakes.  This is not your concern.  You are not family.  Only family
needs to know."
   "I know, Zaira, but you are my family."
   Zaira rolled her eyes then stared an the numbers on the microwave.
   Madeline stood and finished preparing the girl's lunch.
   The incident from only minutes ago was put aside.  After reading all
that cult weirdness, Madeline must have let her imagination run away with
her.  There was nothing unusual or enhanced about Zaira.  She was just a
rambunctious, brilliant girl.  However, that house let the girl's
intelligence get away from her and she had become spoiled and entitled and
more than a little feral in her behavior.
   The best thing for Zaira was a steady home environment with rules that
could be enforced by a strong hand.  Madeline's own daughter was a
wonderful young lady.  Another girl would be a breeze to raise.
   Unfortunately, in all those documents, Madeline did not find what she
was looking for - Zaira's birth certificate.  For that matter, she hadn't
found any vital documents.  Preston and Skylar did not appear to be legally
married.
   It wouldn't be easy to get Zaira a plane ticket without some kind of
identification, but a road trip wouldn't be much longer than two or three
days, a few hotel stays for them to bond over.
   Madeline smiled as she set Zaira's lunch in front of her.
   Zaira's eyes narrowed as she began to eat, staring at Madeline.  "Tell
daddy Preston you're going back where you came from."
   "I will, Zaira."
   -_ Shadows _-
   Madeline presented her case to Preston.  "Well, what do you think?"
   Preston had often wondered if Zaira might be better off with someone
from outside the house, if she needed to learn to live in the world, but
pacts had been sealed.  He pledged his life.  There were secrets that
needed to be kept.  No matter what he thought about the house and their
methods, Zaira was something special, someone who needed to be protected.
Preston didn't know if he was the person for that job anymore.
   "I don't want to have a custody battle.  I think both you and I know
that wouldn't end well.  I'm concerned about these people.  What if they
find you?  Come back with me.  I live in the city, comfortably, and she
needs to get enrolled in school by next year.  And ...  if we're going to
do that, she needs a lot of socialization before then."
   Preston nodded.  Everything she said sounded like a sound, rational,
sane proposal.
   "I found a few things."
   It was the way she said it.  Preston knew what she'd seen and what that
meant.  This wasn't a negotiation.  If Madeline thought of those documents
seriously, then she wanted to keep Zaira for herself.  She wanted to try
and learn their secrets.  He couldn't allow that.
   "Like I said, Skylar was with them a long time.  eI haven't been through
her things or know what she believed."
   "Nice try, but most of what I read had to do with Zaira."
   "Have you told anyone else?"
   Madeline shook her head and sipped from her tea.
   It was a lie.  He could see that much.  "You're right about Zaira.  She
needs to be in a location where she can focus on school."
   The truth was that Zaira needed to go home, back where she wanted to be,
around people who understood what she needed.  Preston fished the white
caffeine pill from his trouser pocket and knocked it back with water.  The
third one he'd taken today, but it didn't make him jittery or nervous, not
physically.
   ***
   Zaira walked back and forth across the floor of her bedroom.  There was
something there, right in the corner, but she could only see it just before
she turned.  When she faced the corner, everything looked the same, just
two light blue walls meeting.  If she paced, just before she turned, there
was something there, a little taller than daddy, but skinnier.
   It moved.
   Zaira looked at her door, but tried to get a glimpse of the corner. 
Yes. It had moved.  It was there.
   What was she supposed to do?
   This was the second day that she realized the dark things in the corners
of her vision were more than just shadows.  None of the books she read said
anything useful.
   She had been reading plenty of books though most of them were filled
with nonsense, especially the ones that Maddy gave her.  Bears who talked
and wore normal clothes, pretending to be people, asking stupid questions.
   Zaira gave huff and walked over to the corner.  She sat down, her legs
crossed under her.  If it could move, then it was something.
   "Are you..." Zaira looked over her shoulder toward the open door.  When
people might be listening there was a different way she could talk. 
Someone taught her.  Zaira scrunched up her face.  She hadn't thought of
him in a while, but ...  what was his name?
   The shadow thing.  That was important now.  She needed to talk without
being overheard.
   She lowered her voice to a whisper and strung her words together.  She
could ask daddy who the people were.  He would help her remember her family
names.  Madeline had been telling her all these people who were family,
using names like cousin and uncle and grand...
   "I can see you standing there, but not very well.  I do not think we
have had the pleasure of meeting.  My name is Zaira.  I am a child of the
House Garai." There was more to be said.  Zaira drummed her fingers on her
leg, but the voices of Madeline and daddy Preston interrupted her thoughts.
They were arguing about Skylar's papers.
   What was she supposed to say next?
   "If you are not a friend to Garai, then I don't think we can talk."
Something like that.  She could ask ...  Avery?  No.  That wasn't his name.
   Zaira gathered her knees to her chest and frowned.  Why was she
forgetting things?  He was important.  She needed to remember.  Tears ran
down her cheek.  She sniffled as the memories evaded her.
   The shadow moved.  It wavered like inky smoke just beside her right
shoulder.  She kept her focus on her toes as it got closer.
   A light touch on her cheek, slightly cold, but not too much.  It smeared
her tears, turning them chilly.
   Zaira smiled a little.  "I miss my family." She didn't know what the
shadow thing was, but it wasn't scary and it hadn't hurt her, and she
didn't have any other friends other than the ones she made up, so this one
would do.  "I can't remember their names, or my lessons, and they are very
important.  I need to study, but..."
   The papers.  Madeline and daddy Preston were arguing about Skylar's
papers.  When Madeline read them she learned secrets.  Mommy Skylar taught
classes.
   Zaira hopped to her feet and tip-toed to daddy's room.  She looked in
all the places she could think, but the box with Skylar's name was on the
top shelf.  She couldn't get up there without climbing.
   She pulled the chair around the bed and over to the closet.  She reached
up, but she was still too short.  She pulled on the bar, but her fingers
could only just brush the edge of the box.
   On her third attempt the box slid toward her.
   Zaira jumped back off the chair and landed on the floor.  The hard
landing brought Madeline and daddy Preston into the room.
   She stared wide-eyed at them both.  She wasn't sure what to say.  Were
they here to help her or yell at her?
   "This is why we don't yell in the house," Preston took the chair and put
it back in its place.
   Had there been something alive in that box?  How did it move?  If there
was something in it, why didn't it get Madeline?
   "Go.  We'll talk later."
   Zaira looked at Madeline, waiting for the woman to leave.
   With a sneer and tensed jaw, she left the room.
   "You wanted to see mommy Skylar's things?"
   Zaira barely nodded.
   He walked over to the closet.  Zaira held her breath waiting for it to
move again, but he got it down and handed it to her.
   "Madeline had it."
   "I know." Preston sat on the bed.  He leaned forward catching his
breath. "What ...  what were you trying to see?"
   "Lessons."
   "I think it's best you forget them."
   Zaira shook her head.  "No.  It's not best.  I need to remember. 
Please, daddy."
   He blinked at her several times.  What?  Madeline made her say it all
the time.  She insisted it was the way to get people to do things.  What a
liar.
   "They are lessons for adults, but, I guess all we have is each other. 
We'll study together.  How about that?"
   Zaira vaulted from the floor to the bed at his side and snuggled beside
her daddy.  "Yes!" What was the other word she needed to say?  "Thank you!"
   Manners had their use after all.
   -_ Weakness _-
   Preston turned the corner and reached for the wall, but his hand missed
and he went to his knees.  Bounding toward him at full speed was a
squealing, giggling girl.  She jumped onto his back and Preston collapsed
onto the floor.
   "Tag!" Zaira jumped up and down several times beside him.  "Come on. 
Time for you to catch me, Daddy!  Come on!" The phrase 'come on' had about
twenty syllables, each one accented with the thunderous pound of her little
body on the hard floor.
   She dashed off down the hallway and around the corner.
   "Wait." Preston gasped for breath.  His vision blurred.  He managed to
get to his hands and knees before she came back, running over to him.  He
eased back from her toward the wall and put both his hands out to stop her.
It wasn't a rational move.  Instinctively, he knew he needed to keep
distance between his body and hers.
   Zaira dodged around his hands and made a game of trying to get closer to
him.
   In the attempt to get away, Preston ended up choking and wheezing.
   She took a step back from him and crouched down on her heels.  While he
struggled for oxygen she peered at him as if she were trying to figure out
something odd or peculiar.
   A full minute passed, but her look of curiosity never became one of
concern or worry, just cold and vaguely amused.
   "Daddy," Zaira whispered.
   "Yes." Would she ask if he needed help?  If she wanted him to call
Madeline?  If he wanted some water?  If he wanted to stop playing?  Preston
prayed for all of these possibilities, that somewhere inside his baby girl
was an empathetic human being waiting to show herself.
   "If I was with my family, this would not be happening to you."
   Preston took a long wheezing breath and closed his eyes with a smile. 
"I know, baby.  I am sorry.  I tried.  I really tried to find them."
   Zaira wrinkled her brows.  "You did?"
   "Of course I did, sweetheart.  I made a pact.  Everything I do, I do for
your protection."
   "What about the calling?"
   Preston shook his head and took his first easy breath.  He eased away
from her a little more, and thankfully, she stayed where she was. 
"Calling?"
   "You can send a message through the Zorients.  They can talk to..."
Zaira stared up at the ceiling as her expression grew more frustrated.  He
knew Zaira was forgetting the members of the house and saw it as a blessing
in disguise.  If she couldn't name them, then she couldn't give away any of
the secrets of the house.  He taught her the rituals, kept up with her
lessons regarding the Zorients and their messages, but he kept the house
names to himself.
   "The leader, right?"
   "Yes." Her piercing topaz eyes saw through him, through his lies, or as
if she were trying.  "Did you do that one?"
   "I'll try." Preston didn't want to bring the house leader to his door,
but he didn't want to die in his sleep either.  "I'll try, baby.  Let's
call it a day on the game though.  Okay?"
   "I want to go play.  There is a park three blocks from here."
   He didn't want her around others without his supervision, not that he
worried about her being taken.  Preston had no doubt her abductor would
promptly return the girl to her location with apologies and ice cream.
   The image gave him a bit of dark humor as she scampered away in a faded
blue dress and worn shoes without socks, her corkscrew curls bouncing the
whole way.
   -_ Taken _-
   Madeline shuffled the bag of groceries from one arm to the other as she
fished the house key from her pocket, only to discover the door was not
locked.  She stepped inside the messy, musty house.  "Preston?  Zai--"
   Zaira was sitting on the couch covered in a blanket, reading a book
almost half her size.
   "Where's your father?  Turn the light on, you'll go blind reading like
that."
   She didn't look up from her book and the weight of the grocery bag
tested Madeline's endurance.  She set the bag down and went through the
house looking.  She found her brother-in-law sprawled over his bedroom
floor, his arm moving a bit like a blind snake's.
   "What is wrong with you?"
   "Fell.  I'm a little..." The rest was a jumble of slurred words.
   "Are you doing drugs?" Madeline kicked the bottle away he'd been
reaching for.  "Around your daughter?"
   His mumbled answer made no sense.
   "I knew there was something wrong with you." She looked around the room
shaking her head.  "I can't believe..." Now she had all the justification
she needed to gather her niece and get her away from this degenerate.  "You
are not fit to see to that girl's safety."
   "She needs ...  family."
   Madeline paused in her collection of things around Preston's room that
she would need to take with her.  She had been through this process,
mentally, several times before.  She had even stopped by the car rental
office before her trip to the grocery store, to investigate her options.
   "They can help her."
   "What Zaira needs is a stable environment where she can learn how to
become a productive young woman in this world."
   Finished with Preston's room, she went to Zaira's, collecting her
notebooks, toys, and clothing.
   ***
   Zaira heard her name being called, but she didn't attach any
significance to it.  She was playing in the backyard, swinging around the
small trees, giggling and enjoying the day.  She felt as if she were flying
through the tree tops like a bright and vibrant bird.
   Her volley of accompanying giggles was cut short by the shrill sound of
her name on Madeline's lips.
   Zaira marched steadily toward the house.  Maybe daddy needed something
from her.  Zaira wiped her sticky hands on her dress, but it didn't make
any difference.  Only warm water and soap would get most of this stuff off.
   "Zaira?" Interesting, the way Madeline's voice changed.  Angry, curious,
then quiet.  "Go get cleaned up.  I'm taking you away from here."
   "You're taking me home?"
   "Exactly.  Go wash up.  What were you doing?  You were just in the
living room."
   Zaira shook her head and she climbed the stairs.  "I've been at the park
all day." She climbed the step stool to the kitchen sink and washed the
ruddy brown flakes off her hands.
   "Did you hurt yourself?"
   "No." Zaira waited for the next question, but it never came.  She wiped
her hands dry and grabbed her book off the couch.  Her shadow friend had
been reading it.
   "I knew that was you." Madeline said with a sigh.  "Come on, the car is
running." She scooped Zaira into her arms and carried her out to the car.
   Zaira went through the items in the back seat with her.  Madeline had
been in her room, packing her things?  Where was daddy's bags?  Maybe he
was too tired to get back home.
   "Thank you." That's what she was supposed to say when someone did
something for her.  "It's very important I get back to my family.  I have a
lot of classes I need to catch up on, and I need to talk to my family. 
They'll know how to help me."
   ***
   Madeline nodded while the girl carried on with the same prattle as her
father.  "Mmm hmm.  Stay right here.  I need to grab a few more things. 
Fasten your seat belt.  I'll get you home safe."
   The most genuine smile Madeline had ever seen graced Zaira's face. 
Madeline did a final walk through the house, grabbing items and setting the
house keys on the table.  Preston stumbled into the hallway.
   "Madeline!  This is a mistake.  You're a fool if you think you can give
Zaira the care she needs.  We were fools.  The pact will hold and blood
will see it true."
   "I'm going to make sure no more of your cult bullshit gets put in that
little girl's head." Madeline slammed the door shut behind her.
   Zaira bubbled with happiness the whole drive to the rental place.  She
was so quiet and docile and polite that Madeline felt like she'd taken the
wrong child.  With all the paperwork complete, they were ready for the
two-day road trip ahead.
   They were on the highway and she was still chattering about going home
and all the people, whose names she had forgotten, she would see again.
   "Did daddy Preston tell you how to get there?"
   "He didn't need to.  I know where I live."
   "You said you were taking me home?"
   "Yes, Zaira.  I am taking you to your new home.  You're going to live
with me.  You'll make new friends and have a school."
   A sudden quiet came over the car.  Madeline glanced into the rear view
mirror at a stone-faced little girl.
   "Now would be a very good time to say you are kidding, Madeline."
   Madeline's heart tripped its beat, but she wasn't going to give in to
the theatrics of a spoiled brat.  "I assure you, Zaira, I am very serious.
I will take very good care of you."
   Zaira screamed at the top of her lungs, shrill enough to shatter
crystal. It was the beginning of a grand tantrum.
   -_ Dangerous Drive _-
   Calm, reassuring words did not stem the onslaught of Zaira's indignant
temper tantrum.  She screamed until she cried and cried until she screamed.
She cried in her sleep, breath hitching, sniffling, whimpering.  Her eyes
were red and swollen, cheeks puffy and tear stained.
   Madeline's nerves frayed to a raw edge.  She had been prepared for some
sort of disagreement, even crying, but she didn't know where the child got
her energy.
   She pulled into the gas station.  She hadn't dared considered it before
Zaira cried herself to sleep.  Even so, she barely made it.  The low fuel
light turned on just as the girl passed out.
   She moved quick, not wanting to explain why she had a six year old in
her back seat screaming that she wanted to go home to her family.
   Car fueled, she popped into the store for an energy drink.  If Zaira was
going to act up the whole drive, then Madeline needed to make this trip as
short as possible.
   The screams began as she collected her change.  Madeline ran out to the
can and saw that it was indeed Zaira, pounding on the glass, her face
contorted in rage.
   No other cars around, she cast an apologetic smile to the attendant. 
The man didn't seem to care.  Perhaps screaming children were a dime a
dozen along this stretch.
   Madeline paused in front of the closed car.  Zaira's shrill voice
carried all the way inside the station.  She knew exactly how deafening the
volume would be in the car.  Madeline took a deep breath and plunged in,
cranked the car, tuned the radio to the most disruptive station, and
cranked the volume.
   It didn't work.  The growling and roaring musician was no match for this
little girl.
   Thankfully, the tantrum only lasted half an hour.  She collapsed on the
backseat reduced to whimpers.  Madeline's eyelids drooped as the road
stretched out in front of her.
   The first sign of a motel got her business.  She checked in and carried
Zaira in one arm and a night bag in the other.  The child barely stirred
when Madeline tucked her into bed, and she remained sleep while Madeline
took a shower and ate.
   Madeline couldn't have been asleep more thana few hours when she heard
the crash.  She bolted upright in bed.
   Zaira was standing on top of the dresser.  She gave the television set a
swift kick.  Thankfully, in low profile, road-side motels, the owners had
everything bolted down.  Zaira had made do with the moveable parts.  Chairs
were on their sides, covers and blankets were all over the place.  The
curtains looked like they were ripped.
   "Zaira," Madeline wiped the sleep from her eyes.  Maybe she was
dreaming? How could a tiny little girl go on this much of a tear?  "Zaira,
this all belongs to someone else."
   "Take me home." Her voice was hoarse and her tone sad, but the venom was
there.
   Madeline said nothing.  She pushed out the bed and stepped in a puddle
of cold water.
   She really hoped that was water.
   Zaira trembled as Madeline approached, but did not resist as the woman
carried her to the car.  Madeline paid for the room in cash and left an
extra two hundred on the dresser.
   They were back on the road before sunrise.  Madeline stuck to gas
stations for food, energy, or water, and even then she had to brave the
angry, persistent questions and rants from the back seat.
   "I hate you." Zaira whispered as her eyes drooped shut.
   "I'm doing this because I love you and I care about you."
   Madeline kept checking the rear view mirror.  Zaira appeared sleep. 
Madeline brought the car to a stop and pulled onto the shoulder.  She
leaned the front seat back and was out before the engine cooled.
   Tap.  Tap.  Tap.
   Madeline cracked one eye open.
   Tap.  Tap.  Tap.
   Her eyes wandered until she put together time and place.  Red and blue
lights flashed, lighting the dark interior.  The sound had been the butt of
a flashlight knocking on the window.
   She pushed herself upright in the seat.  Her side ached from leaning
over the center console.  In the backseat.  Zaira was still out.  Moving
with greater purpose, Madeline opened the door and stepped into the cool
pre-dawn air.
   She rubbed her eyes and looked at the officer.  "I'm sorry.  I was so
sleepy."
   "It's dangerous to sleep out here like that with a child.  I've been
knocking on that window for a while now.  Have you been drinking?"
   "No, sir.  I just," she looked over her shoulder into the backseat. 
Zaria was still sleep.  "She doesn't agree with the move, and it's hard to
talk a headstrong little girl down from a tantrum and drive at the same
time.  I can only sleep when she's sleep."
   He hummed.  "She doesn't look so bad."
   "That's what I think when she's sleeping."
   "Are you from this area?"
   "No, sir.  On my way through."
   "Follow me.  I'll get you some place where you can refuel for the trip.
Stop by the gift shop, maybe get one of those books on tape for children.
That tends to keep my little ones quiet."
   "I'll try that." It was going to fail.  Madeline knew that already, but
she wasn't going to talk her way into a ticket.  She needed to get back in
the car before Zaira woke up and started screaming all sorts of stories.
   Zaira slept all the way to the combination diner / rest stop.  Madeline
got herself and Zaira something to eat, filled up on fresh coffee, and got
one of those audio books.  She was about to pull back onto the road and
Zaira was still out.
   The girl would need the bathroom.
   Madeline picked Zaira up and carried her to the rest room.
   Zaira's eyes opened, but she didn't appear to be up to speed enough to
start a tantrum.  She used the bathroom and brushed her teeth all with a
very lax nature.
   "Hungry," she mumbled.
   "I have food for you back in the car."
   It was the most civil exchange they'd had since they left Preston's
house.
   Continued in Part 2.
   <->
   Epilogue: This novel is more horror than erotica, but the main character
is a baby in this chapter, and her story ends when she is 17 years old. 
This journey will be long, twisted, bloody, sticky, and tear stained.
Written: November 2012
Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
   
  
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