Young Writers Society

Maitea

"Um, so how was your day, Maitea?" Ace asked, I could tell he didn't like this situation. I had to get my own word in before I answered Ace, though, and I turned to Gracie.

"Please, Gracie, things turned out like they did. grieving over them won't do any good either. We hve to live in the moment, and move on from what happened."

"You didn't know him, Maitea..." she started. I cast her a cold glare. Originally, me and Gracie had gotten along well, but each time she made a little comment to Ace, I sort of felt like it was directed at me. Almost like if Ace hadn't survived, Benny would have. She saw it was because of me (or my fault) Ace was alive, or something close to that.

"No, I didn't, but I can't regret anything that lead up to Ace being alive now." Gracie didn't respond, and I turned to answer Ace's question. "Everything went pretty well today. Shelia says hi," most of the wrokers there knew Ace from his frequent visits to fix our computer, which never seemed to work, "and the computer system broke again."

"Again?" he looked over at me from where he was cooking. Even now I found it ironic he was always the one who made dinner. I tried, sometimes, but what I made was usually inedible or burnt. I could only make one good dish, and that was a Spanish style roased chicken recipe. It took about three hours to make, though, so I sort of avioded cooking altogether.

"Yeah, it won't even turn on. I took a look at it, but I couldn't figure the blasted thing out. The whole system is an absolute mess. No matter how many times we replace it it just screws up again," I sighed. "Shelia said we should just hire a programmer, and then she did that thing with her eyebrows I told you about. I told her that no matter how many computer programers she gets, none of them would be as good as you."

I saw Ace smile, and I laughed. Hey, it was the truth, if it made him smile, well then it did it's job.

Tia

Riley came downstairs the next morning, and threw her the TV remote. She barely managed to catch it, and managed to loose her slipped in the process of scrabling to catch it.

"Whats this for?" she demanded, putting her free hand on her hip. God, someone wasn't good in the mornings.

"Is Charlie awake?" I asked first, raisng an eyebrow.

"No, not yet, why?" Riley seemed more awake now. The suspense was killing her, I could tell.

"Channel 40," I said, pointing at the Tv. She turned it on, and a minute later I watched the remote drop to the floor, taking her jaw with it.

I spun around to watch the screen. I watched as the anchor said, "...and it is rumored this won't be their last heist. After six years of being dormant, Amercia thought we were rid of the Fishers for good. Now, it seems they have come out of hiding to purse much more violent acts. Ted, do you think that being hunted by America had caused them to do this, or is it simply a way of getting revenge for the many of them who have died, or something else entirely?"

The screen switched over, "Well, I think it might be neither. I think this might just be the Fisher's way of announcing to the world they are coming out of hiding. Who knows, Jen, who knows?" I shut the TV off.

"That's not any of us, so don't freak Riley. I saw some footage, it ws blury, but it was none of our people. Someone is posing as us, using our name to commit criminal acts."

"How? Wait, what?" My cousin couldn't seem to form a intellgible sentence.

"I am going to Houston today to look at the building, to take some notes for the Herald. It's, ironically, right near where your apartment used to be. Maybe they're using that for a base,"

"They better not be," my cousin scowled, and looked back at the TV, "It doesn't make any sense. I have to go down there and look at things myself. I can't stand around here and watch this,"

"And you'll take Charlie with you?" I looked over at her from over the top of the newspsper I was scanning.

"I have to," I heard the patter of Charlie's feet on the stairs and watched as Riley yelled, "Charlie, we're going on vacation!"

Reg Carter

I made my way slowly over to Dr. Dean's shack and knocked on the door with a heavy fist. Dean always preferred it if I knocked, unlike Coombes who seemed pretty fine with me just wandering on in whenever I felt the need. It was about a minute or so before Dean reached the door and pulled it open. He was a small elderly man with gold-rimmed spectacles perched on his nose. The most settling thought about Dean was that he'd never let me down, and thus, I trusted him with my life.

"Mornin' Doctor," I smiled and stepped into his shack's front room. It was large with two leather arm chairs and a bottle of brandy on a side table, with two filled glasses. He knew I was coming over.

"Hullo, Reg," he mustered and walked over to pick up the two glasses. "Drink?"

"Cheers," I replied, taking the drink from him and sitting down on one of the leather arm chairs. He did also opposite me. I sipped the brandy and felt the heat of the alcohol run down my neck. It was refreshing as well as awakening.

"So, how's things today then? I've heard there's been a stir in the cities. Someone posing as your Fishers bunch."

The reminder of the gang made me speechless momentarily. The daily routine I'd become accustomed to didn't allow me to sit and reminise too often. I stared at him for seconds that seemed to last forever, but Dean never blinked. "Spill the beans, Doctor?"

"Well, they pulled a job - a heist. I read it in the newspaper, this morning. I'd show you it, but I've already used it for the fire. I apologise," Dean replied and gestured to a small fire to the side of a bookshelf. "I knew it wasn't your lot, different styles. Not as slick."

I laughed nervously. "This could mean trouble. Couldn't it?"

"Probably, Reg," Dean replied simply and coldly. It had always been a rule that no trouble should ever be brought back to Mr. Coombes and Dr. Dean. Reg had agreed whole-heartedly and was already greatly in debt to the Doctor, so he saw no reason to argue against the man's decision. "However," Dean continued, "I don't mind you staying, but if this thing escalates, I may need to reconsider. You do understand, right?"

"Mhm," I replied. "Thank you."

Alis

I turned off the TV, and looked at Anthony, "I'm not sure if this is worth my time. I don't have an assignment right now, but I don't feel like going on a wild goose chase,"

"If it's on the news, and they have footage, it's probably not a wild goose chase," he assured me, and sat down on the coutch beside me. He put his arm around me, and I leaned against him. He sighed, "Do you want me to come with you?"

"How do you know I'm even going?" I retorted.

"Because I know you, Alis, and I know youwon't miss a chance to get rid of a few people who bug you." He laughed, and I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, I'm going. But it's probably be best if you didn't come. Some of the real Fishers might come. I really don't feel like explaining to them I'm engaged to a US Marshall."

"I'm sure they would just love that," he laughed again. He kissed me forehead, and I took out my car keys. "You leaving now?"

"Why not?" I stood up, "I'll be back in a few days, call me tonight," This was our usual parting phrase, but neither of us ever really called unless it was important.

I took one last look at Anthony, and then walked out the door.

(((Anthony: ))))

Wow. I remember being in the first one then just giving up lol. It's come so far. Now, you've got 5! This is going to sound weird but I'm so proud of you guys!


~Jas

P.S. Yes, it did sound weird.

So, I just decided it was a good time to come back and I asked Kaywiia if it was ok if i joined it. She said it was fine, so I'll be posting soon. Not sure if I will be a permanent character.

Name: James MacTavish

Age: 28

Picture:


Country and Global Location: Europe

Languages You Speak: English, French, and Russian.

Which RHG's were You In Before, If Any?: All I think. Its been a while

Vehicle: (Motorcycle or car)


Personality: Six years ago it would not have been a stretch of the imagination to imagine James as a cold hearted bastard, but now things have changed drastically. He has a family. He has a wife and a two year old girl. He will no longer jump into fights the way he used to, although he still knows how to handle himself. The cold shell that had previously confined him has cracked a little, but is by no means gone- he still has the eyes of a man who has brought down countries and killed tyrants. He may have a family, but he is not someone you would want to mess with.

History: After he left he started working in a bar with a new identity. Within a week he had become "Desmond Miles", a young man raised in Canada, educated in England, who then studied abroad for four years before returning to england to england. For the first two years of his life he was unable to completely get rid of his old tendencies, and he travelled around europe killing mob bosses, and other people who extorted others. He won't tell anyone what changed, and all anyone knows is that he keeps a picture of a girl in his wallet. He won't tell anyone what her name is, or where she lives for fear of old life coming back.

Likes/Dislikes: Secretly: His new family, and finally being happy for once in his life. He still feels odd without a pistol by his side, and the familiar leather jacket on his back, but his new lifestyle has forced him to make some adjustments. Some might think that being a civilian has made him soft, but in reality it has made him that much more dangerous, as he actually has something to loose. He dislikes his old life, and the way things have gone for the country, but he still feels the need to help the people he once called family.

Up for love: not at all.

James~~

I pulled my coat over my shoulders and checked the pistol tucked snugly in my belt loop. It felt as if the skin had been warped by the long years to form a cubby that just didn't feel right without it. I hopped off of the small two engine plane that had carried me from mexico into the country. The pilot handed me my bag from the side storage units and then left, the nervousness that had plagued him since the start of the flight finally taking over.

The town I was in was relatively small, with only a handful of buildings and some broken down pickup trucks, so the old impala parked on main street was definitely out of place. So the whole plan had gone well. I had seen the news report, and called one of my old contacts. That same day I was in America. Shit was about to hit the fan, and I needed to be here, even if I had walked out on them before.

I hopped in the car and drove to the first stop- a small desert shack inhabited by an old friend.

Jack

Have fun, Jack. Go blow their heads off, get me a bottle of cabernait while your at it. I rolled my eyes as Nichloas' words repeated in my head. He had seen the news article before I did.

Though, as he had told me about the posers, there had been a certain recognition in his eyes, like he knew more about the Fishers than anoyone who had never met them should. That fact still bugged me, and the look in his eyes kept coming up in my mind.

Subconciously, I already knew where I was going. I had never been there myself, but Riley had told me about it. An old apartment the gang had used as base for a while. I would stay there overnight, I decided, and take a look into things the next day.

The drive was going to be long, and I knew it. Still, the picture touched into the pocket of my leather jacket made the ride easier. It was me and Riley, three months before she left the Foxes. I had realized, now, Riley was a sister to me. She always had been, and I had been too stupid to realize it.

I wondered, as sometimes I had, what had happened to everyone from the Fishers and the Foxes. ikely the Foxes wre still together, though there was probably a new leader. No one could do it like me, though, just a rookie kid who got lucky and shot Antonio. Everyone else, though I had no idea. Evertything had been left up to chance.

I shook my head to clear my mind, and turned back to my driving.

Ace

I doubted that Ma meant what Maitea thought she did, but I let it go, and they were at least civil to each other until finally at about ten I kicked my parents out. Rather, I told them I had an early day and that I was going to get to bed. Lies, mostly, because my first appointment wasn't until one in the afternoon and all there was to do before that was go to the salon and try to fix the fustercluck they called their computer system. Again.

"I'm sorry, guys," Ma whispered before leaving. "I don't mean to be a negative Nancy all the time."

I hugged her. "It's all right, Ma. We all have our days. Weeks... Years." I added that last one on before she could think about saying it. "Go home. Be careful, go to bed. Lay off the wine; I'm worried about you.

Ma nodded and then hugged Maitea. "Bye, Maitea. For the record, I love you like a daughter, even though I don't act like it sometimes." Then she and Dad left.

"Bed, Connie," I commanded my dog, and he licked my hand and shuffled off to his dog bed in the den.

"You're really going to bed at ten?" Maitea asked, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. "Usually you're up 'til at least midnight. Are you okay?"

I took her hands, smiling. "I'm fine, Maitea. I did spend five hours driving today, and I'm mentally exhausted from the stupidity of some people," I said, referring to the small insurance business I handled networking and programming for in Los Angeles. "So, just tired. But, um. Yeah, I'm going to bed. You?"

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

"Ace" and "morning" did not go together in a sentence, unless it was something like: "Ace was dead to the world every morning," or "Every morning, Ace would snooze his alarm clock five times until his wife would get annoyed with it and pull the blankets off him, open the blinds, try to shove him out of bed, and finally threaten him with ice water." However, the next morning was a different story.

I heard the click and fuzz of the radio alarm clock before I heard it actually turn on, but I was so tired still that I didn't bother to whack the snooze button. As soon as I heard dialogue, though, I sat upright in a second.

The smooth voice of the morning show host spat daggers: "...a violent attack by the Fishers, who disbanded six years ago..."

"WHAT THE HELL?!" I yelled. Maitea wasn't in her spot beside me, so I called for her. "Maitea! Oh, shit, come here and listen to this."

She came into the room. "Ace, what are you yelling about?" But she listened, and the look on her face was a mix of fear and disbelief.

"We live here," I said, "and they know it! How could they--we were here last night, and we have Ma and Dad to prove it, and...I'm sure Shelia would back us up... Maitea, you and I are walking alibis. So unless some of the old members came out of hiding, which I doubt, then something has gone seriously wrong."

She took a deep breath and after a while, went back to towel-drying her hair. I laid back on my pillows, clutching the blankets in a vice grip as I felt a cold sweat run down my entire body. How could she be so--well, Maitea was always one of the calm ones. Finally I stumbled out of bed and went to take my pills. "What do we do?" I asked, staring at myself in the mirror as I swallowed the last one. I had gone paler than I think I ever have.

Maitea

"What do we do?" Ace aksed. He looked pale, paler than I had seen him since the gang. I lead him over to a chair, and he sat down.

"First," I sighed, "you calm down," I sat beside him until he regained some color. "Look, they said it was in Huston, we're close enough. We can go down, see what's going on firsthand, and then go back to our normal lives. No big deal," I smiled, and shrugged. Ace gave me a look.

"No big deal?" he questioned.

"Look, reporters like to stretch the truth anyhow. It's their job. I bet it's nothing major." I looked towards the phone, "I'm going to call the salon, tell them I'm taking a few days off. You might want to cancel a few apointments. Those companies caan fix their own computers." I rolled my eyes, and went over to the phone.

Shelia answered, "Hello, this is...."

"Yeah, I know Shelia," I laughed, "Anyhow-"

"Your taking the day off?"

"The next couple of days, no big deal. Me and Ace..."

"Stop right there, I don't need to know, darling. Have some fun with your man, be back here by monday." She laughed again, and hung up. I rolled my eyes.

"I'm free for the next few days, though I'm going to have to do an awful lot of lying when I get back,"

Riley

The apartment was almost the exact same as we had left it, besides the large amounts of dust. A few graffiti drawings had lined the brick on the outside, but the inside had remained close to preserved.

I held Charlie’s hand as we walked into the residence. Her eyes darted around the rooms as I took her upstairs. The plane ride had been long, and she was tired out.

Tia had opted for an apartment in Huston, but I had wanted to come back here. It was ironic, somehow, having Charlie here. It was almost like telling her about my past, like by bringing her here I was finally erasing all the lies I had ever told her.

“Mommy, why is there a hole in the wall?” She pointed to a bullet hole that made a spherical opening between the kitchen and the living room. Because I put a bullet through the wall.

“Because, sweetie, a person came to fix this place but made a mistake,” Charlie shrugged, totally buying my lie. I felt bad whenever I lied to her, but it was to keep her safe. I carried her up the stairs into my old room, and shook out the sheets before I tucked her in.

“Will you sing, mommy?” Charlie lifted her little hand towards mine. I sang a little of an old Mexican lullaby, and she was asleep before I even finished the song.

I went back downstairs, and sat at the table. I had come so far since I had last sat here, nearly seven years later. I had been so innocent then, and I hadn’t known it.

I jumped as the front door opened.

*can be anyone*

Jack

I turned off my motorcycle, and pulled the keys out of the ignition. As I looked at the little apartment, I realized there was a light on in the house.

Don’t get excited Jack, it could be anyone, even just a homeless person, seeking shelter,

But I wanted to believe it was one of the fishers’. I walked in, and a saw a beautiful red head sitting at the table. She jumped as she heard the door open.

“Riley?” I asked, looking her over. She looked so different, but she was still herself. She stood up, and walked towards me.

“Jack?” was her response. She looked me over, and couldn’t wipe the look of confusion off her face. I walked up and pulled her into an embrace.

“Riley, god, it’s been so long,” I sighed as she pulled away. I lifted up a piece of her hair, “Any particular reason you decided to be a ginger?”

Reg Carter

It seemed, even from my small shack of lifelessness, that where the events of the impersonators was occuring at the same place where the gang had originally formed. The enticing thought of visiting there seemed ultrilistically tempting, but it also meant abandoning the Dr and Mr. Coombes with no true guarantee that I'd return. I had been talking to Dr. Dean throughout the morning, over a glass of old whiskey and some short-stubbed cigars. He'd seemed radical in trying to persuade me to go, with a certain focus on only being able to live once, but I was unsure. I didn't need this past, and so I argued with him, for hours on end.

"You don't need this present, either, Reginald," he muttered. "Don't need the dull ol'future that comes with it either, son."

"It may be the simple life, but'a tell you reet now. It's 'lot better than where I come down from," I grunted. "Don't really feel good 'bout the past all over 'gain. Sickenin'. What if there's more bad things?"

"'Tis experience my boy!" Dean said cheerfully. "Trust me, do you a world'a good."

"I ain't too sure, Doc. I'm'a have a real good thin-"

"No you ain't," Dean interrupted. "We ain't goin' no where, so you go feed your curiosity and then come 'long back 'ere if it isn't what you wanted. You need this, Reginald. You need some kind'a purpose, son."

I stayed silent and looked up to him, his wet grey eyes peering on me.

"Don't you argue with me none, son. Off you go," Dean said, and gestured to the door before opening his book and taking a puff of his cigar. He then began to read as though Reg had already gone.

I walked up to him, put a hand on his shoulder and said: "Thanks. For everythin'."

"You owe me one," he muttered, but by this time I was already outside. Opening up the door to my old, but new to my possession, 4x4. Time to revive the past.

Ace

Neither Maitea nor Shelia were very quiet people, and even though the phone wasn't on speaker, I could hear the whole thing. "Ooh, have fun with your man," I mimicked in a high-pitched voice, fussing with my hair and trying to copy Shelia's giggle when Maitea nudged me and mouthed shut up Ace. I covered my mouth and laughed into my hand until she got off the phone.

"I'm free for the next few days, though I'm going to have to do an awful lot of lying when I get back," she decided.

"Oh really now? What, she think we're going off on some romantic long weekend?" I got up and went to the safe and unlocked it. I took out my gun and unloaded it before taking it apart and examining the parts. "Romantic weekends that involve guns. Best kind right there." I put it back together except for the bullets, aimed at the door, and pulled the trigger to make sure it didn't stick.

Maitea shook her head. "If there would have been a round in there..."

"I'd be replacing the door. I know." After loading the gun, I aimed again at the bathroom door.

"Ace... Don't even think about it," she said flatly, shaking her head, and I lowered the weapon and clicked the safety on. "What are you going to do with your dog?"

I shrugged. "Take him to Ma's I guess."

"Mmhm, and what are you going to tell Gracie? Where are you telling her you're going? She'll flip out, Ace."

"We'll tell her we're going on that romantic getaway. Argh, except then she'll ask me if she'll be expecting a grandkid within the next year. Damn..." Okay, yes. Ma made it a point to ask when Maitea and I were having kids on, oh, a weekly basis. It had gone from me answering, I don't know, to Ummm...soon? to Do I look like Maitea's ovaries? No? Stop asking me then. The truth was that I hadn't asked Maitea about the possibility and I wasn't sure if my mother had or not. All I knew was I was afraid of getting a negative answer, so I didn't bother bringing it up. "Okay. I'll just make sure I'm out the door before she bombards me with that one. You'd think after six years she'd give it a rest... Can we take my car?"

Maitea shrugged, probably not caring which car we took. I sort of liked the idea of driving down the freeway with the top down, though.

We packed bags and my dog's things, and after I made sure the mansion was locked up, we dropped Constantine off at my parents' (fortunately Ma had gone out shopping and Dad didn't ask me anything weird.) "Sixty-six?" I asked, grinning, but Maitea shook her head, as I thought she would. "Okay, takes too long. I know. How 'bout the way back? That'll be our romantic getaway."

"You're just bent on turning this into like our second honeymoon, aren't you, Ace?" she laughed.

"Maybe," I smiled as I turned onto the exit to the freeway that would take us to...well...whatever was waiting for us.

Riley

“Riley, god, it’s been so long. Any particular reason you decided to be a ginger?” Jack asked, lifing up a peice of m dyed hair.

"It's a really long story, Jack. And not one I feel like telling either. You'll find out soon-" I was cut off when I heard Charlie walking into the room.

"Mommy, who are you talking too?" she asked. Jack's jaw dropped. He looked from me, then to Charlie and back to me.

"Jack, we all make mistakes, and I've made mine," I said, glaring at him.

"I was a mistake, mommy?" Charlie's eye's brimmed with tears.

"No, sweetie, of course not." I went over and picked her up, "Letting your daddy die was a mistake though,"

"Oh," Charlie pondered, "I want a daddy," she stuck out her bottom lip in a little pout. What was I supposed to say to that? Too bad, kid?

"We'll have to see," I sighed. "Go back up to bed now." I watched her walk upstairs, and waited until I heard her door shut.

"Look, this isn't easy, Jack. But I love Charlie, she's the only good thing I got from Nicholas." I crossed m arms over my chest.