2Day of Reckoning (Part 1)
Written by: Audobon and Revised by: Dropzone
Garnet Shadowstone slouched down further at her desk, feeling the full force of sleep depravation; it was killing her without mercy. When she glanced down at the brilliant red ink of a gargantuan "D", she sighed. Math tests were never her forte. They just made interesting scribble pads.
As she began to draw a blotchy stick figure of an fourteenth century sorceress tied to a pole and burning in a mob's fire, a waded up sheet of paper thumped her head. Agitation streaked across her face as she glanced over a couple of rows to a group of snickering guys and girls rolling their pastel, shadowed eyes. The gray-feathered, black haired teen growled. Compared to the others, she was strictly a non-conformist, a "gowlen" as they labeled her. She hated nothing more than the kind of social life that was available to her at high school.
As her thoughts drifted into the dark recesses of her mind, her attention was suddenly drawn to the wadded paper on her desk. The paper began to rattle. Puzzled, she began to unfold the white sheet. Just then a large, brown fury ball snapped at her and let off a high-pitched hiss. Similar to an Earth tarantula, the Biology teacher's missing teralis, Hermit, tensed as if preparing to attack.
Garnet concealed a scream to a cut-off screech as the baseball-sized arachnid jerked around her desk. The teacher, a round woman in her forties, became aware of the disturbance. It was at that moment Garnet balled up her fist and smashed the creature all over her paper.
"Garnet, is there a problem?"
"Duh," Garnet said holding up a clenched fist soaked with bug guts. Her voice was dull, almost deadpan, a characteristic of her pessimistic attitude.
The teacher's eyes widened with shock and horror, "Did you take Hermit from the Biology lab, young lady?"
One of the guys snorted, "She was taking it to lunch."
"Score one for Gore-net," another snickered.
"I don't believe you are ready for high school, miss. You know you'll be buying the Science Department another one."
Garnet usually went down silently, but this time, she accidentally spoke her mind. "No need. They can have this one back." She grinned lightly, looking at the yellow puss with a leg sticking out of it. The class laughed, which only infuriated the teacher.
"Garnet Shadowstone! Is this anyway for a lady of your age to act? Afraid of a little spider?"
"It tried to bite me."
"Teralis's do not bite."
"Well apparently this one has rabies."
"Office! Now!"
When the bell finally dismissed the students of the inner-city public school, Garnet rummaged through the contents of her locker. As she focused on maintaining what little arm space she had, two of her fellow students from History class pass by.
"What's that we're havin' for suppa?"
"Spider stew!"
"Bite me," she grumbled to herself.
"No thanks, not hungry," said one of her classmates as he approached and leaned against the silver locker. Like her, and most of the others in her school, he had gray feathers, but his hair was brown and shoulder length. He had a cool demeanor about him.
"Great. Just another one of the social freaks who've come to gloat over one of the most animalistic and brutal forms of behavior," she thought as she practically ignored his presence while pillaging through her trashy locker.
"I was just saying 'Hi'," he said innocently. Garnet looked up at him.
"Hello Mick, have a miserable day." She turned her back to him, threw a black satchel over her shoulder, and slammed her locker shut.
"Wait," he said catching up to her. "I just wanted to-"
"State a formal greeting? Got it. Now hit the road before your buddies catch you talking to me and your social standing takes a nose dive."
"I don't care what they think," Mick insisted as they continued through the busy hallway. "Besides, you shouldn't let them bother ya. They're only joking."
"They have a sick sense of humor," she said blankly.
Changing the topic, Mick says, "How come you're doing so well in History class and blowing off everything else?"
"Simple. We're studying the darker and more morbid side of Avia's history. Everyone's sick and dying of a cruel plague caused by sheer stupidity and blaming the scapegoats in a cover up. It's an allegory for modern day society – savage and petty."
Mick scratched the back of his head. "Sure, I guess."
Reaching the large doors at the end of the hall, they both shove open their own doors and walk out into the early evening air. The cool breeze bit at him, but he hardly noticed; something was on his mind. Crossing the grassy schoolyard, they quickly reached the sidewalk – it was time to part ways. Mick began rubbing the back of his neck with a perplexed look on his face.
"Well, I, uh, wanted to know if you'd like to, you know, go to the dance this Friday."
Garnet seemed to hesitate at this unusual request. "Thanks, but no. I can't stand the people at this school. I think I'd rather pull my brains out through my nose with a fishing hook than go to a school dance."
As she walked away, he was about to try and sway her to reconsider when his buddies flocked to him. Cursing under his breath, he knew his friends ruined whatever chance he had at persuading Garnet.
"Jockish jerk," Garnet muttered, still fuming from her day at school. Throwing her pack onto the beaten-down couch in the living room, she looked at the wall-mounted clock. She only had an hour before she'd have to head off to work. Sighing, she flopped down onto the well-worn black upholstery and flipped the television on with the remote.
The first thing on was the National News; defiantly not her favorite channel. As usual, for the past several months, some congressman was speaking about their hostile extraterrestrial neighbors from a nearby solar system. The supposedly primitive race was first discovered by the second wave of deep space probes launched in 2011 and had remained on the front pages for a few years. After that, no one cared.
It wasn't until within the past few years that Avia has been making treaties with the planet, known merely as 'Clawworld', to prevent a galactic war. Agreements were stiff and negotiations filed down to a simple solution: "we stay on our planet, you stay on yours." Apparently, the alien neighbors were pushing their limits.
"I wonder if cartoons are on," she asked to no one particular as she flipped the channel and was instantly faced with large-eyed, tiny billed ninjas.
"Yuck!" she stuck out her tongue. "I hate Flapanese animation." The television clicked one more time and a hockey game was on. It was Flockston Rouens and Aerodin Mighty Mallards. "Hmph, close enough."
It was hard to be a Rouens fan, especially if you liked Drake Ducain, goalie for the Mighty Mallards. The ice had been rough today and the score was Rouens two, Mallards one. Undoubtedly, the hockey fans of the home team were disappointed. Drake was your normal guy, calm levelheaded, and smart. However, what made him a sports star was his incredible endurance and an almost unbreakable sense of alertness.
He breathed intensely, beads of sweat crowned his face around the white mask. The puck, trailed by the Rouens' center and one of his teammates, glided quickly towards him. The goalie's full concentration was on the rubber disk.
With a strong, firm slap shot, the Rouens' center sent the puck blasting through the air. In a quick and precise movement, Drake's glove met the projectile and swatted it out onto the open ice.
"And it's a save by Drake Ducain!" chimmed the announcer from his station overlooking the game.
The puck landed at the skates of the Mallards' center, Jamie Nightfeather, Drake's best friend. Jamie was known for speed and a quick kind of accuracy. He was also known for insubordination and penalty time.
"Come on, Jamie," Drake whispered to himself. If the Rouens' goalie was in his best condition, the game was as good as lost.
Jamie skated harder than he had done before; his heart thundered with every stride. Without a doubt, this was the longest game he had ever played. Every muscle in his body felt like a fire that was smoldering close to extinction only to instantly build up to an explosive blaze with every contraction. Like all of his other games, this seemed to be the most important game of his life. He knew he had to at least tie the game before the clock ran out.
With the help of the Mighty Mallard's offense, Jamie dodged the Rouens' defense and closed in on the goal. Within range of the net, Jamie quickly swung his hockey stick back and slammed it forward an instant later. As the puck screamed forward, everything seemed to happen at once. The goalie dived for and missed the black disk as the buzzer rang an instant before the puck crossed the goal line.
"The goal is no good!" the announcer shouts over the arena's speakers. "Time has run out on the play a moment too soon for the Mighty Mallards… that has got to hurt! Talk about a tough break for Jamie Nightfeather, I know he has GOT to feel a bit disappointed right now. That's game, Rouens win two to one and if they win tomorrow night, the Mighty Mallards won't be seeing the Avia Championship Finals until next year!"
As fatigue and frustration weighted on their minds, the team knew to expect some heavy verbal abuse in the locker room from their hot-tempered coach.
"You sissy chicks are nothing but a bunch of friggin' numbskulls!" cried a short gray drake as he entered the locker room.
Drake Ducain allowed some of the coach's insults to sink in, but he didn't let it demoralize and degrade him like with the rest of his teammates. Drake saw it more as an enlightening experience. He continued to pull off his purple and navy blue jersey as the verbal profanities continued.
Jamie, however, snarled as he blocked out Coach's comments. He instantly received attention.
"Nightfeather, I thought I pulled you out, ya friggin' moron! Didn't you hear me to come back in?"
"Guess you weren't LOUD enough, Coach!" he yelled, hurting the ears of two other teammates.
"You darn well as heard me, Nightfeather! You ruined the game! What are you? A thick-headed idiot?"
"Coached by one more likely."
"Talk to me like that again and your tail feathers are out tomorrow night. Do you understand me? You are easily replaceable!"
The duck grinned and headed for the back door. Every step of the way, the short coach continued to assault Jamie with comments like "thanks for losing the game" and "it was only the best effort you've got". He'd go home and clean up instead of sticking around. At least there, he won't be hounded by the coach anymore. Since the Mallards lost, he didn't have to worry about being swarmed by the few reporters that were milling around.
As the door swung wide open and his bag over his shoulder, the coach shouted, "You're worthless Nightfeather! You hear me? Worthless!"
The door slammed and Jamie was gone. Drake, in his concerned demeanor, passed the short mallard.
"Good work, Ducain. At least I can count on somebody."
Drake frowned. He didn't like the coach anymore than anyone else on the team. Drake especially didn't like how the coach would belittle those that didn't succeed one moment and praise others that did well the next. Hurrying out the door after his friend, he had to dodge a couple of reporters; somehow he always managed to attract attention. Escaping out into the parking lot, he quickly spotted his friend.
"Jamie!" Drake shouted. Jamie was unlocking the door to his dark gray sports car.
"Need a ride or something, Drake?" he called in a friendly tone. It was as if he had forgotten everything said inside the stadium. It was no surprise to Drake though, Jamie was always like that.
"Sure," Drake answered. He did have his own sports car in the parking lot, but Jamie looked like he needed company whether he wanted it or not. Drake chucked his bag in the trunk and hopped in.
"So, how's the Mrs. ?" the gray duck asked as he revved the engine up high as he sped down the street.
Drake smiled pleasantly. "You know Dawn. She's probably out sipping coffee, pulling over red-light runners… speeders, too."
Ignoring his friend's glib comment, Jamie continued, "Man, married to a cop has ta be great!"
"Worrisome is more likely."
"Ha!" the duck screeched into a sharp turn and roared down another street. "You think you're worried? My girl doesn't sleep in my apartment anymore. Now that's something to be concerned about."
"Would that be Melody?"
"Nope."
"Mace?"
Jamie was outraged. "Cassandra, Drake! Where have you been? I've been going out with her for a few months now!"
Drake tossed a scrutinizing glance.
"Okay, on and off. You know how it is."
Drake chuckled, "Every time, Jamie, every time."
A tan car screeched to a halt at an alley's entrance and the two occupants stepped out. The pulsating red and blue lights flashed on the face of the two trenched coated people. One was peach colored with cheek length, wavy sunny orange hair; the other, a tall lanky drake with pale gray feathers.
Pulling out his sidearm, Jonathan Mallown growled, "Where did he go?" He scanned the alley before turning to Dawn Ducain, his shorter, fairer partner.
Dawn glared down the alley. When the sound of clanging trash cans echoed off the walls, she turned to her taller partner, "Bingo".
They dashed down the dark, gravely path until they found their quarry lurking in the shadows like a cornered animal.
"Hands on your head and step away from the gate," Dawn shouted in a stern voice.
The snarling man seemed indecisive until finally giving in. Stepping forward, his horrible figure came into the light. There was no mistaking that he was not from Avia, nor was he like any other inhabitant from the duck's home planet. He was a weasel-like creature, slender in build and covered in a dark blue, scraggly fur. Dressed in a white body suit with matching robe, he stood upright and matched Jonathan's height. With a slate grey, spotted face, two small fangs protruded from his upper lip as his eyes gleamed a solid red.
"It's one of those aliens!" Jonathan announced holding his aim. "This is the fed's problem!"
"I don't care! He's on our beat!" Dawn responded keeping her weapon aimed on the white-robed figure. "All right creep, who are you and what are you doing on our planet?"
He breathed heavily thinking of the suitable words. "Don't shoot me. You'd be making a big mistake!"
"According to the Solar Territorial Law, you're the one making the mistake, bub," Jonathan informed.
"You don't understand!" defended the creature. "I'm from a prison compound on a planet called Rigal 7. I'm here to warn you of the apocalypse!"
Dawn rolled her eyes and hissed to her partner, "They don't get any loonier."
"I'm not kidding!" the beast wavered in his tone and began to sway. "No one listens to me! No one!"
"Just calm down," Jonathan ordered. "We're just going to take you for a little car ride down to the station."
"They've been to my home planet, but they didn't stay long. Now they're coming for you and you're all gonna die!"
Just then the creature's body was engulfed in white-blue bolts of electricity. There was a bone-chilling howl as the animal collapsed onto the ground. Dawn couldn't believe what she was seeing. Looking at Jonathan, he glanced back at her, matching her same open-mouthed expression.
Once the creature ceased movement and his howls subsided, Dawn and Jonathan cautiously approached the animal. Keeping their weapons aimed at the creature, Jonathan nudged it with his foot.
"What is it?" Jonathan asked
"I don't believe this… he was some sort of robot," Dawn says wide eyed and full of questions.
Jonathan holstered his weapon and shrugged. "What do you make of that 'apocalypse' thing ol' robo-boy was talking about?"
"Who knows? Maybe it had a few wires crossed… or something," she said with a frown as she glanced down at the smoldering body. It continued to spark where the metal skeleton showed and a small fire burnt among the wires and circuits in the neck. Then slowly, like a setting sun, the red eyes dimmed out till they were an extinguished crimson.
"G' night man, see ya at the game tomorrow!" Jamie shouted over the roaring engine.
Drake threw the bag over his shoulder and waved, "See you."
When the car sped off, Drake glanced at his yard. It had been a warm summer and the front lawn of his suburbanite home was full and green. His wife's car was not in the driveway. The only sign of life seemed to be the tiny roller blades and hockey stick lying in the yard. He smiled as he picked up the evening paper off the lawn and walked to the front door.
When he opened the front door he was greeted by the babysitter. Her feathers were peach in color and she had shoulder length, sloppy blonde hair that was tamed with a headband. As always, the transparent sea foam sunglasses were perched on her bill, even at night, as well as the Mighty Mallard's jersey and jeans.
"Mr. Ducain, can you sign this puck?" she begged holding up a puck and a white ink pen. "It's for my friend, Josey!"
"Sure, Airdrea." Drake could not be more humored of the fact that he had signed more autographs than paychecks when it came to babysitting fees.
"Thank you so much!" she proclaimed. "Daylight was a little angel and Mrs. Ducaine got home a few minutes ago." She waved good-bye as she walked down the street to her house.
Drake entered his home and collected even more mail from off of the floor. As he was about to pass the kitchen he caught a glimpse of a woman doing the dishes. She was beautiful, wearing tight faded jean shorts and a tight white tee-shirt. Entranced, Drake dropped his bag and disposed of the mail on a nearby table. Walking up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.
"You left the car at the stadium didn't you dear?" Dawn smirked.
"Yeah, Jamie gave me a ride."
"I heard. Mallown drove me home so now we don't have a way to get to work tomorrow," she scolded lightly.
Affectionately nuzzling his head to hers, he said, "We don't always have to go to work. We can just call in sick."
She giggled and turned off the water. "I like that idea," she smiled turning around into his embrace.
"Mommy! Daddy!"
They turned towards the sound and saw a duckling wearing a baggy tee shirt and oversized maroon shorts. At the age of four, her wavy orange hair came to her shoulders and flopped as she galloped. Her feathers were peach, and in her hand she clenched a sheet of paper.
"Daylight, sweetheart," Drake picked up the little girl with a grunt. "You're getting heavy!"
"Lookie Daddy, I made you a picture!" Excitedly, she held up a crayon colored portrait of a stick goalie, a she-stick figure with an out of proportion gun, and a gray thing beside a larger gray blur. "See? It's you and Mommy and Uncle Jamie and his biiiig car. Verrrroooom!"
"Mommy must be arresting Uncle Jamie for disturbing the neighborhood peace," Dawn suggested.
"Mommy!"
"It's a beautiful picture," Drake confessed causing the little girl's eyes to light up with glee.
Dawn took the artwork and headed for the refrigerator. "I'll just put it up here with the others." She reached the picture-covered appliance and stood there momentarily as she searched for a place to hang it. Nova help her if her daughter caught her covering up one of her other art works. To her advantage though, one spot was left open in the corner. "Now aren't you suppose to be in bed," interrogated the woman.
Drake put her down and she hopped across the floor to her mother's arms. "But you and Daddy just got home."
"Mommy had a tough day at work. Your father, on the other hand, was being bad and riding around with Jamie." This caused the little girl to gasp and look at her father with a disbelieving face.
"Daddy's naughty."
"Daddy, also had it rough," Drake defended.
Dawn shifted the little girl to her other side. "Don't worry, Drake, tomorrow's another day." Then she looked at her daughter. "Now tell Daddy good night and get to bed."
Reluctant to give into nightly departure, the duckling leaned for Drake and hugged him around the neck. "Good night Daddy, I love you." She gave him a small kiss on the cheek and Dawn set her free on the floor.
"G' night sweet heart," Drake smiled as she began to skip her way to the stairs.
She suddenly stumbled, her face aimed towards another room. "Mommy's on TV!"
"Oh great," Dawn grumbled and headed for the living room followed by Drake.
Walking into the beige carpeted room, with an assortment of toys scattered on the floor, the ducks focused on the large TV set recessed in the wall. Daylight rushed to her spot on the Floxican patterned rug, an arm's length from the screen. Any other time, her mother would have disapproved, saying, "Don't sit that close, you'll burn your eyes out", but as of now, it wasn't a thought in Dawn's mind. On the long rectangular screen, a mob of reporters swarmed two cops as they maneuvered down the stone steps of City Hall.
"How many were there? What did it look like!"
One female reporter with straight brown hair was very persistent, "Could you describe the alien?" she asked, aiming a microphone into her face.
"We can not say as of this moment," Dawn answered.
With a frown she turned to Drake, "Now you know why I didn't get to my car."
"Is there a conspiracy?" Another reporter flocked from behind where Mallown struggled for freedom as well.
"Is the government behind this!"
"Will there be a solar war?"
Angrily, Mallown shoved the man away. "Get off my back, ya crazy son of a…."
The image switched to a studio anchorman as he summarized what little details were available on the event.
"Though we know little about the mysterious 'Aerodin extraterrestrial', we don't know if there are anymore on Avia and what there true intentions are." He turned to the side where a mini-screen displayed the Mighty Mallards sport's logo. "And now for sports-"
Drake switched off the television and tossed the remote onto the nearby couch.
Daylight giggled, "Mulan's funny."
"Mallown, wasn't being very nice," Dawn corrected pulling her up by the hand. "Now you go to bed."
Daylight raced for the door then stopped one last time. "Mommy, what's an extrateresessteal?"
"I'll tell you in the morning."
She galloped up the stairs, her little feet patting against the carpet.
Drake was still staring at the blank screen. "Pathetic isn't it that our most miserable moments are broadcasted on the national news."
"Didn't win, huh," Dawn assumed in a low moan.
Drake nodded, saying, "There goes the playoffs."
"You still have a chance," Dawn reminded. Her right hand slipped around the man's waist as she grinned teasingly in a coquettish manner. "I think it's time we went to bed, too."
Night descended over the duck's world. Lights illuminated the city and created a glow that showed the haze in the sky. Far outside the city limits, the air began to shimmer like heat off a hot skillet. With a brilliant purple flash, the invisible waves took form, revealing multitudes of darkly shrouded figures. Standing atop a plateau, there were hundreds of figures standing in a precise, unmoving formation staring at the city lights from a distance.
The air shimmered again, and once the purple flash dissipated, three figures stood at the front of the formation. The lead figure was a towering, opposing figure clad in highly polished steel armor and clothed in a midnight blue shroud. His scales were bluish green with black horns protruding out of his head near the temples. He was Darogon, Lord of the nomadic race of Saurians. The other two figures standing beside him were his queen and advisor.
Rage was an ideal figure of attraction for creatures of her species with black scales, purple claws and long white hair that had a black stripe down the middle; she was always at his right hand. The older creature at his left was Rahlomon, with flame red scales and gnarly yellow horns. His green shrouds covered his frail hunched over frame as his yellow claws gripped around a bare wooden staff.
"I don't approve of this planet, sire," Rahlomon informed with a gloomy tone of voice. "I sense magic here."
"He's led you wrong with such accusations," Rage argued. "Listen to him and we'll be on the move for eternity."
Darogon smiled at his mate, "I am getting tired of leading nomads."
"That is why we should make this planet our home," Rage said, gesturing her clawed hand at Aerodin. "This is not magic but technology, defenseless against our Dark Powers."
Rahlomon glared down, shaking his head. "I beg to differ. The climate is too cold and hostile." Since the Saurians were cold-blooded creatures, temperatures that were "sweltering" to other species, were in fact ideal for them.
The dark leader's face hardened as he stepped towards the distant city lights. For three Saurian years, they have been going from habitable planet to planet searching for a suitable replacement. Every planet they visited, they always found something that they deemed 'inhospitable'. Constantly on the move, Darogon was at the end of his patience for a "perfect" planet.
Turning to Rahlomon, Darogon says, "Our destroyed planet can never be replaced nor will we find one that'll ever come close. Leave if you wish, but I will use my sorcery to turn this place into our home."
As Rage nodded approvingly, a thin smile crept across her scaly face, hinting at the hidden sharp fangs.
He sighed as he resigned himself to his lord's will, "I shall stay."
"Very well, then," Darogon said as he scrutinized Rahlomon's face. "Stand aside, both of you," he said as he flicked back his shroud, revealing his scaled arms.
Backing away from Darogon, they stood behind and on each side of him as he turned and faced Aerodin off in the distance. The last few survivors of the doomed Saurian world stood transfixed, motionless, as they watched Darogon preparing to summon his Dark Powers.
With his eyes closed and his head bowed, his arms remained motionless at his sides. He cleared his mind of all other thoughts. For his spell to work, he needed to have absolute mental clarity. Focusing solely on the words he must speak, Darogon could almost see the words burnt into his mind. Muttering under his breath, he begins to speak the incantation and feels a small twinge of electrical energy surge across his scales. A faint, reassuring smile forms on his face; the Dark gods are on his side, success is near.
Each time he repeats the incantation, he begins to speak louder – the sensation of energy swarms his body. Raising his head, Darogon shouts. His voice thunders as a purplish-white cloud of energy radiates from his body and bolts of lightning lick off his clawed fingers, striking the ground in a furious intensity. As the spell's power wells up within him, Darogon's purple electric eyes snap open as he raises his arms skyward and throws is head back.
The great power that was building up within him suddenly sprang from his eyes and mouth, striking Avia's atmosphere. Lightning arches from his scaled hands and strike the overhead clouds in a murderous vigor. He strained against the power as if his very soul where being ripped from his body. The Saurians watched in awe as the overhead clouds quickly ignite into a haunting, purplish mass. An instant later, the sky explodes as a purplish-red wave of energy speeds away from Darogon in all directions.
When the last bit of the spell's Dark Power escaped from him, he staggered and fell to one knee. Darogon smolders as random electrical bolts dissipate from his scaled flesh. Calling upon the Dark Powers always left him exhausted, not that he cared, he knew the end of the ducks' world was fast approaching and the Saurian's time would soon be at hand.
Rage rushes up to her mate's side and helps him up. They both look at the night sky knowing the spell was a success. In place of a calm, tranquil skyline, dark pulsating purple clouds stretch over the horizon.
"That is it? These inhabitants are conquered?" she asks.
"No. This is just the first part to the spell," he struggles to say. "By tomorrow, the energy wave will have encompassed this planet. The spell will be complete when I recite the 'catalyst' incantation. Then, this world will be ours for the taking."
Garnet groaned as she wearily massaged her neck. She never did like working the closing shift at Night's Delight, but she had no choice with her inflexible school schedule. Walking to the store's front window, she flipped around the 'Open' sign. The old curiosity shop was in a strip mall located next to a pet store on one side and a thrift store on the other, and as usual, the streets were deserted at this hour.
Moving from the front door, the floorboards creaked and protested as she made her way to the first isle on the right. There were four isles, all containing dust covered books, bottles, and miscellaneous trinkets that appeared unusual to the outside world. In almost every corner of Night's Delight, cobwebs dangled like black and purple stringed beads. The other clerks had attempted to pursue the owner into allowing them to clean the shop up. Every time their request was denied. He said it made Night's Delights more 'spooky and real'.
Standing on her tiptoes, Garnet began to straighten out the line of books on the second to the top shelf. Being a person of short stature, adjusting the just-barely-in-reach books would be an aggravating task.
The entrance bell chimed as someone walked in.
"We're closed," she responded out of routine without bothering to glance at the front door.
"Hi," Mick said as he ignored her statement. "Nice place. Kinda Dark."
Still engaged in her task, she groaned, "What do you want now?"
"An answer, hopefully," he said folding his arms.
"You weren't joking, were you?" she said with a distinct tone of dread in her voice.
"No, why would I?"
Garnet settled on her heels, turned to Mick, and placed her hands on her hips. "You are unbelievable. Your optimism is infesting this place the way a narval would."
The smile burned off his face. The mere comparison of him to a small, brown, garbage-eating insect revolts him. "You're comparing me to a narval?"
"One amongst a society of narvals."
Mick wasn't about to give up.
"Maybe, but at least you stand out. You're a beautiful, uh, shiny sanzil," he said as his eyes fell upon an Eggyptian-style pendant from a nearby rack. Representing a large, six-legged insect from the desert region of Avia, any normal female would be repulsed at the comparison to a scavenging excrement bug. Garnet, however, was different in that she dwelled in the unusual.
"What ever happened to a beautiful fengsu?" she asked thinking of the multi-colored insects that flutter and linger around wild flowers in the spring.
"Too cliché, besides their wings tear off too easily."
A slight smirk managed to crack her serious expression. "That's the most demented thing I've heard all day," she said sweetly.
"So, will you go to the dance with me?"
"No."
It was reflexive that he checked his surroundings before he began to beg. "Please?"
"Nope," Garnet said as she turned from him and resumed her daunting task of sorting out-of-place books.
"Pretty please, come on!"
"No. Go ask one of your narval friends."
"I could, but I'm not going to. Garnet, I'm serious. I really want to take you to the dance."
"We're closed," she reminded. "Please keep your hands to yourself and exit the store."
Mick straightened his posture as he stepped to her other side. Sternly, he said, "I'm not leaving till I get an answer."
"I gave you one. No."
"The one I want to hear."
She remained silent, ignoring his presence and focusing solely on her work.
The Ducain residence was quiet. Daylight was asleep in her upstairs bedroom while her parents slept huddled together in their room. Drake rested comfortably in gray, sweat pant shorts while Dawn preferred her short, thin, light tan strapped nightgown. Her arm was draped over his naked chest, until she rolled over on to her half of the bed. Being a light sleeper, Drake stirred. When his eyes cracked open, he tilted his head and looked out the bedroom window.
Off in the distance, Drake saw lightning striking a single spot of land. It felt like a dream, until he saw what looked like a bright purplish bolt spring up from the ground and strike the sky.
"Hey Dawn," he whispered, sitting up in bed, "Look at this."
"Looks good," she says without moving.
She had no sooner responded when the sky erupts in a wave of purple-red fire. Rapidly approaching their house, the wave noiselessly streaks overhead. Left in the wake of the fire wave, the clouds are radiating a dark purple.
Their bedroom door opened with an almost explosive force as Daylight threw open their door and rushed in.
"Mommy… Daddy! The sky is weird!" she cried out.
Dawn sat up and flicked on the nightstand lamp. She wiped the blur of sleep from her eyes as the duckling came to the bedside. "Honey?" she asked drowsily as she sat up.
Drake didn't respond and continued to stare out the window, unable to move his fixed eyes. Turning her eyes out the window, Dawn saw what had captured Drake's attention. With a surprised gasp, she helped Daylight into their bed as she scooted close to her husband.
"What is that?" her voice sounding like a harsh whisper.
"I don't know," he replied.
She heard an unmistakable note of dread in his voice. Suddenly, a sick feeling formed in the pit of her stomach that stabbed deep into her soul.
Garnet had just finished every unpleasant task available and even the ones she never had done before. The jobs wouldn't have been completed so quickly if Mick hadn't helped. He decided to help out if that is what it took to pursue her.
"Just because I'm a snow boarding champ with a low grade point average, and you're smart and attractive with knowledge of the paranormal doesn't mean we can't be seen together."
"Your buddies wouldn't think so."
"My friends tend to, you know, exaggerate," he laughed. "You know, just 'cuz you do things differently doesn't mean you can't hang out with me. You really need to open up. Maybe if you'd stop making End of the World presentations in Speech class and just be positive for one day, people wouldn't single you out for ridicule."
"So, what you are saying is I should, at your command, change my ways to suit you?" she asked. "Just because I believe the planet will be destroyed by an asteroid hurdling through the void of space will under no circumstances make me think or act differently."
Mick finally started to feel that he was fighting a loosing battle. Not only was his plea refused time and time again, but in the end, he managed to seriously anger her. As they began to leave, he gave it one last try.
"So, will you go to the dance with me?"
"Sure," she said with a heavy, almost defeated, sigh.
Eyes wide with surprise and shock, Mick's heart felt as if it had skipped a beat. He couldn't help but to wonder if he had heard her correctly. Mick was about to ask her to repeat what she had just said when he noticed her stop abruptly and stare out the store's front window. Following her gaze, he too froze, and stared transfixed as the night sky erupted into a wave of flame.