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Dark Sunrise, part 7 Cierra and the crew only felt slightly guilty as they dropped the bags of gold onto the manager's desk. They had wiped out most of the grocery store and were now heading down the street to ransack the department store. They still had 3 hours before the store management was likely to show up for work. JP had a sheepish look on her face and shrugged. "We're getting pretty good at this." Cierra had to agree. "Who would have thought we'd become burglars?" "Not me but we have little choice. It's getting too late for the survivors to plant crops and build shelters. I've been thinking. We have farm animals but these people don't." "And where would we get them?" "There's gotta be stockyards but we'd have to deal with possible night hands who watch over everything." "Are they likely to be armed in this day and age?" "I doubt it. We'll have to cut their phone lines then move in and tie them up. We can grab some animals and feed." "JP, we can't bring them aboard the ships. Think of the problems on how to transport them." "Okay, how about this...we borrow trucks and trailers to bring them as close to the survivor camps as possible then transport them. We'd have to do that for every new camp." "Ugh, I feel tired just thinking about it." "You want them to starve this winter?" Cierra shot JP a dirty look that told her that she didn't fight fair. ****** The council members and the crew looked towards the shore in despair. There was no possible way to transport all those people at once. The camps were filled beyond capacity. Thousands of people were huddled together and all of them hoping Cierra would somehow perform a miracle. "Oh my sweet Lord," Jenny moaned. "How are we going to move all these people? We'll be here for weeks for this camp alone," Cyd said to the others. Janice looked at Cierra, knowing what she'd say would sound cruel. "You'll have to pick and choose, Cierra. What we took will all be taken by this group and still not feed them all for the year. We still have fourteen more camps to deal with yet. Take 500 and the others will have to fend for themselves." "And condemn the rest." "No, not condemn. We keep saying this over and over. You can't save them all." Jeren spoke up. "It'll be a riot if you tell people they won't be allowed to come with us." Jenny agreed. "What if you did your third eye trick? We find sites where there's communities on the alternative world and drop them off there. We'll raid for supplies and just bring the stuff back with us. Then we won't have to haul it around at least." "That might work, hon," JP told her spouse. "We won't have enough gold to pay for it all," Cierra said guiltily. "Perhaps not but we'll leave some gold at all the locations. It's better than nothing," JP told Cierra. She knew her wife would feel guilty for stealing. "It's up to you, Cierra. We can be thieves or leave them behind to fend for themselves," Janice told her friend. Cierra stood there with her arms crossed while she thought it over. Finally, she spoke. "Let's get these people to safety." The next few weeks were hectic. They dropped off a few hundred people along the coast where a town or city existed on the other alternative world. The women broke into stores, leaving some gold but their gold was running out. Authorities were comparing notes and following the path of break-in's. The police thought perhaps it was a gang of those hippies stealing to support their group but they were unable to find a single witness as yet. No vehicles had been seen nor did they know exactly how the thieves got into the buildings. The doors were always locked, making the police scratch their heads in confusion. If the doors were locked, how was the merchandise taken out? The biggest roadblock to their investigations was the fact that merchants weren't forthcoming in reporting the break-in's in the first place. The gold left behind made them reluctant to press charges for trespassing. The only pattern they found was that they were slowly moving along the coast. The police mailed letters along the coast, wishing they had a more efficient way of communicating with other states. Then the reports stopped coming in. Did they disappear as mysteriously as they arrived? ******* The captain of one of the carriers spoke up. "Ma'am, what if we sold one of our planes or helicopters to a design firm? They'd pay a lot of money to improve their own designs." JP protested, "We can't do that. We'd be launching them into the computerized age a decade or two sooner." The captain thought about it. "We'll, how about selling them one of our Chinooks? They've been around for a long time. We can remove the digital instruments and put in older styles. The engine improvements alone would interest them and give you enough money to fund your raids." "Do you have a company in mind?" "In fact, I do." Four days later, the captain and a crew of soldiers in civilian clothing walked out of the office to one of the most prestigious design firms on the east coast. They each carried a briefcase filled with paper currency, the condition of the sale. No checks would be accepted. They had sold them one of the Navy Chinooks that had been stripped of all insignia and digital equipment. Cierra was waiting in the second helicopter and would transport them back to the Earth once they left sight of land. She planned on finding JP and taking a nice long nap before their raids later that night. She felt better knowing that they could pay for the items they took. It just wasn't in her nature to steal. She just hoped that their interference with this alternative world didn't cause any harm. ****** Elinor Masters noticed the small article in the Charleston newspaper and it triggered a vague memory. Wasn't there a series of robberies in California with the same MO? She picked up her phone and dialed the numbers to her friend in San Francisco. If anyone knew about the unusual crime scenes, he would. Forty minutes later she hung up the phone. That was so weird. Were the thieves following the coast? She decided to call around. Perhaps the port authorities would know more. ****** The reporter peeked into the eerily lit grocery store in West Onslow. She had tracked the incidents and predicted that either West Onslow or Surf City would be hit next. Since the robberies usually took place in smaller towns, she thought this seaside town would be more likely. Elinor stepped onto a pile of wooden pallets and stood on tiptoe to see into the dusty window that was located at the rear of the building. Inside she saw not a small group of people moving in the dark but at least fifty people were quietly and efficiently collecting cases of food stock. Many of the people inside didn't look like the typical vagabonds. They dressed neatly and had well groomed haircuts. So much for the hippy theory. She wondered why they were gathering so much food. Were they taking food to the communists? Elinor was at a loss. There were so many possibilities for these people. And why did they pay for their items? With their skills they could easily take the merchandise for nothing. The reporter lifted her camera after wiping a clean spot on the window. Maybe she could get some nice clear shots of the people inside. Elinor zoomed her camera towards individuals, snapping a photo occasionally but not until she spotted Cierra did she feel like she had something. Who was she? She had almost an aura about her. She used her lens to follow Cierra around the stockroom. She watched the mysterious woman walk up to a heavily loaded pallet and place her hand on it. Elinor was wondering what she was up to when she and the pallet vanished into thin air. "That's not possible!" she mumbled to herself, swinging the lens in a slow circle. She must have just shifted her camera and blinked, imagining what she saw. She was no where to be seen. Elinor lowered the camera and stared at the room below. Where was she? Then the reporter saw her with her bare eyes appear within a painted circle on the floor. "What is going on?" she whispered. Elinor looked around, wondering if she could somehow get inside. She had to find out what was going on. The blonde climbed down the stack of pallets to the asphalt and looked around. Near the corner of the building was what looked like an office. An inspection of the old dirty window showed that no burglar alarm was on it. Maybe she could force the window open. She retrieved a screwdriver from her glove box and wedged it under the window. She broke a few fingernails but considered the loss worth it when the lock suddenly released and the window began to lift. The window was stiff but she managed to get it high enough to crawl into the office. She tiptoed to the door and cracked it open, trying to listen to the conversations around her. She didn't catch much. They spoke mainly of transports. She closed the door and brought a wooden chair from behind the desk, positioning it so she could look out the window above the door. The reporter thought she'd be safe from being seen since the room was dark and the warehouse lights were dim. She watched them for quite a while, taking note of everything going on and snapping pictures. It wasn't until all the trespassers walked over to a tipping pallet that she got an idea. She snuck out of the office to where a load of empty barrels sat to be picked up by factories. She rolled one to the nearest half filled pallet and placed it onto it. She prayed no one turned around and spotted her as she lowered her slim body into the empty pickle barrel. The smell was strong but it couldn't be helped. She pulled the lid down. If she were lucky, no one would discover her presence and she could find out the real story behind the break-ins. She heard several crates and boxes being placed on the pallet where she hid, feeling the vibrations through the old wooden barrel. The lid was suddenly pressed down, blocking her source of fresh air. Elinor bit her lip, forcing herself not to yelp in panic. She reached for her purse in the dark, finding her screwdriver. She forced it under the lid and pulled. Thankfully the boxes over her weren't heavy and she had a sliver of space now to get air. "Okay, this one is ready, Cierra," she heard a male voice say from within her hiding spot. Elinor braced herself, unsure how they would move the pallet. Then a wave of dizziness hit her. "Okay, this one and that pallet over there goes to our ship. Those two over there go to Connie. Need any help, ensign?" "No, sir. I can handle it." Elinor stiffened. She wondered how she'd get out of the barrel. She hadn't thought of that before she got into it. Then the pallet lurched hard as something seemed to grab if from below and lift it higher. She let out a yelp but doubted anyone heard her over the sound of the engine of what had to be a forklift. She heard loud noises for quite a while then the unmistakable sensation of being on water. Several unlady-like curses escaped her. Now what did she do? She was trapped and unable to escape. Screaming would only let them find her. She had to calm down and think this through. Then the option was taken from her. She heard the pallet being unloaded as men grunted and lifted boxes from the pile. Any minute now they'd find her and they would probably kill her or worse. "Hey, this barrel says pickles but it isn't sloshing," a man said as he shifted her hiding place. "Well, open it up and see what's inside," an impatient voice commanded. Then bright lights hit her eyes, blinding her. "Oh boy. Someone contact Cierra. We have a problem." Dark Sunrise, part 8 "Get that camera away from her and see if she has anything else on her while you're at it," an officer told the soldier. The seaman who had pulled Elinor from the barrel followed his orders, searching the woman and her purse for other recording devices or weapons. "Nothing else, sir." "Very well. Bring her along. She and I need to talk." Elinor was escorted down a maze of passageways until she found herself in a small room with a desk and a couple of chairs. "Sit," he told her simply as the seaman closed the door and stood guard. She felt her wobbly legs weaken and happily sat down on the padded chair. "Now, who are you and why were you hiding in that barrel?" The reporter couldn't seem to make herself say anything. Words were caught in her throat until the man snarled and repeated his questions. She let out a peep of fear and tried to lean away from the intimidating man. She squealed again when he reached out and took her purse away from her. He rifled through the assorted contents until he found her wallet. "Elinor Renee Masters. Age twenty-seven. Okay, that gives me your name, but who are you really?" "I...I'm a reporter. I just--" The man cursed. "That's the last thing we needed." He stepped up to the intercom and barked out an order. "I want security down here right now. Our guest needs to have a little chat with the Queen." Elinor was terrified. What was happening? Before her mind could wrap around the events, she found herself being escorted to a boat and taken back to shore. Any hope of finding someone to help her get away dissolved when she realized that this beach was near no buildings or roads. They must have sailed to an isolated beach. Did they plan on disposing of her? More soldiers were on the beach past the sand mark. On the hard ground was a white mark spray painted to form a circle. The men stood around it protectively. No one said a word as they held her in place and waited. Then she felt the uncomfortable sensation of needing to visit the powder room. She squirmed and wondered what her odds were of being taken to a rest room. She was about to find the courage to ask when within the circle something appeared from thin air. A pallet from the grocery store stood there with the same mysterious woman she had seen before. The woman looked directly at her with dark eyes. Elinor felt as though the woman could look into her soul. Was this the 'queen' they spoke of? The woman looked away to one of the men in uniform. "Trouble?" "Yes, ma'am. She was found hiding in an empty barrel on the pallet. She's a reporter." Elinor waited silently as the woman nodded then returned her gaze towards her. "Let's take a little walk, shall we?" The men seemed ready to argue against them walking alone but the woman ignored them. They walked along the beach at a slow pace. The reporter stumbled a bit and the mystery woman gripped her by the elbow to support her. Elinor didn't know the skin to skin touch told Cierra everything important about her. "If you want, you can go to the bathroom behind those bushes over there," the stranger asked. She was glad to do so, her bladder painfully full. Elinor hid behind the thick bush and gratefully urinated while the other woman spoke. "My name is Cierra, by the way." "I'm--" "Elinor Masters, age twenty-seven, single. You have a younger brother and your father is a contractor." How did she know that? Elinor pulled up her underwear and came out from behind the bush. "How did you--" "Know that? Let's just say I have a few secrets for now." "What's going on here? Are y'all the thieves that have been emptying out stores all along the coast?" "Guilty as charged." "And that Navy ship back there. It's the largest ship I've ever seen. Why is the Navy helping you rob stores?" "It's hardly stealing if you leave payment behind," Cierra smiled, avoiding the question. "None of this makes any sense. When my editor hears all this he's going to blow a gasket." "He's not going to do a thing without proof. It's so far-fetched that he'll probably fire you. Fred hardly thinks of you as a serious reporter since you just cover the luncheons and charity events." Elinor was surprised. How did this woman know about her? "You've read my byline before?" "Nope, sorry. I've never heard of you before tonight. Miss Masters, you've stumbled into something you'd be better off forgetting. No one would believe either you or anything you say concerning our actions." "I'll keep following you until I have proof, then people will believe me!" Cierra laughed at the threat then her face became serious. "Elinor, if you want to be taken seriously then perhaps you ought to stop playing the bimbo and use your brain. Or have you pretended to be silly and feminine for so long you have no idea of your own strengths any longer? Your parents never listened to you when you told them your ideas. They patted your pretty little head and told you to go play with your Barbie doll. It didn't matter to them that you had the highest scores of your class each year or that your IQ tests proved you were a genius. No, they just expected you to get your diploma and marry the first decent man who asked and pop out grandkids for them, didn't they?" Elinor stared in shock. How did Cierra know all this? "I'm a psychic. I know things. Just go home and forget you met us. We don't mean any harm and are actually trying to help people." "How?" "If I told you more then you couldn't go back. So go home." "Wait, what if I want to go with you?" "And do what? You can't ever tell anyone about what you learn." Elinor looked into Cierra's eyes. "I want to make something of my life. If you're truly helping people then I want to join you. My dad wouldn't even allow me to join the Peace Corps. Please, let me help." Cierra looked at the reporter and could almost see Jenny in her. Her friend had been seen the same way although not to the extreme as this woman. Jenny just needed something to focus on other than shopping and the newest trends. Maybe Elinor would turn out the same. "Alright. You're in as long as you agree to obey me as your queen. Our laws are simple really. Live for the greater good and be the best you can be." "That's all you ask? You won't ask me to do anything squirrelly like the sorority houses, will you?" Cierra laughed. "No, afraid not. I just hope you know what you're getting into. It means a lot of hard work." "I don't care. Sign me up." ******** Elinor drove to her parents' home and parked. She waited several minutes to make sure no one woke then snuck into the house. She wanted to gather a few things and leave her folks a note to explain that she would be leaving. Cierra had told her to leave dresses and such behind. She needed sturdy clothing and items that couldn't be replaced. She would pack her things and place them in her car. The sun would be up soon and she needed to do some shopping before meeting Cierra. One place she planned on visiting was the army surplus store. Cierra had suggested a list of things to bring along. Then she needed to pick up more jeans and sensible cotton shirts. Elinor left the note to her parents pinned to her clothing in the closet. She knew leaving it in the open would have them on the phone with the police. She needed the time to shop before they went looking for her. Mother wouldn't think to open the closet until she did the laundry. By then it would be too late. She spent time in a diner, ordering breakfast and lingering over her coffee until the shops opened. Elinor wasted little time. She bought her items from the surplus store plus even a few extra things just in case. She picked up several duffle bags rather than take the luggage her parents paid for. Her next stop was the store that sold outdoor clothing and sporting goods. The blonde had little left over when she was finished but didn't worry about it. Cierra said they didn't use money where they lived. Shortly after 11 O'clock, she met with Cierra a few blocks from the beach. Her new friend helped gather up her possessions then placed her hand on her wrist. "Ready?" Elinor nodded. Even though the concept had been explained and she had transported twice last night, the idea that they traveled between alternative worlds seemed amazing. All the town disappeared around them and Elinor saw only empty dunes and beach around them. "Ready to go?" a voice asked behind them. Elinor turned and saw a group of women nearby. One of them, a dark haired woman with blue eyes neared Cierra and kissed her cheek. Elinor smiled, They must be close friends. Then the two women kissed. Elinor's eyes got huge. Robbie spotted the look of shock on the new woman's face. "Damn, Cierra! You didn't tell her half the women on Mother Earth were lesbians, did you?" Cierra looked at the reporter. "I never thought of it. I guess I forgot people in different ages had different attitudes." The shaman looked at Elinor. "I hope you won't change your mind because of this. We still need your help if you want to stay." Elinor heard the comment about different ages. The queen must live in a place where it was more easily accepted if she didn't even consider her relationship with a woman to be perverted. Her first reaction was disgust but then she thought about it. These women were dedicating their lives to helping people. Could she do any less or was she a coward? "No, I am still joining you. Just don't expect me to take a page from your romance book," Elinor said firmly. The others chuckled. The tall blonde spoke first. "I'm afraid most of the women aboard the WaveDancer are gay but once we get back to the villages there are plenty of single men available. You might find a man you like. We don't expect everyone to be the same," she reassured Elinor. "But you'll find that we're a warm and caring group. Just a word of advice to save hurt feelings. A show of affection in not a come-on or flirting. We're friends and family. We expect our friends to give us hugs and such. If you rebuff someone they'll take it as rejection of friendship. You'll know without doubt if it's flirting. All right?" Elinor saw the sincerity in the blonde's sea-blue eyes. She forced herself to smile and nodded. She was taken aboard a huge yacht, larger than any she had ever seen in her life, but her shocks weren't finished. On board, Elinor looked at everything and everyone around her. To her shock, people of different races worked side by side. She saw three crewmen sitting on a bench having a meal in the shade. One was swarthy, like someone from the Mediterranean, a Negro, and a man with an Scot brogue. Elinor pried her eyes away from the scene. No white man would sit next to a Negro in her town. It just wasn't done. Cierra knew much of what Elinor was feeling. Her own mother had spoken about the 1960's when women fought for equal rights. At the same time, the fight against segregation was going on and protests about Vietnam. It had been troubled times. Their cultures were very different but she wanted to give the reporter a chance. The woman couldn't grow as a person without some bumps along the way. "Hungry? I know I'm starving," Cierra told the newest crew member. She led the group to the dining room where lunch was being served. Cierra took a tray and handed it to Elinor as the others followed suit, going down the line to choose what foods they wanted. "Mama!" a child hollered, making Elinor look. She didn't know children were aboard. She saw a little dark-haired toddler waddle up to Cierra. "There's my baby! Give mama kisses," Cierra told her daughter. The little girl obliged, giving her mother a sloppy kiss. "Have you been a good girl for Jenny?" she asked, shifting the toddler to one hip. Elinor just watched silently, barely noticing food being placed on her tray. "She's always a good girl," Jenny told her, bringing her own little girl along. Cierra indicated to Elinor to sit down at a large table where others were already eating. Once sitting, she made introductions. The reporter was surprised to find out that the captain of the WaveDancer was a woman. This was certainly a day for shocks. Next Page |