Transitions

Christie

She started to protest, but then hung her head. Everything he said was completely true. Christie had nothing.

"The reason I had all those assignations done was because I thought they were necessary to protect my family," She prudishly spat the words at him.

"And who were you calling?"

"That's none of your business."

Duncan coughed.

"Fine," She sighed, "they are just a couple of guys I met the other day. I thought they would help, or at least save themselves, but it seems unlikely that they even got my message."

An angry red light was flashing, and it took Tobias a long moment to realise what it was. A genius mechanic as well as a gunsmith, he ws in possession of a broad frequency radio that doubled as a telephone. Of course he'd put the thing on silent once the only calls made to him were thickly laid with danger, desperation or screaming. Waking in the middle of the night to hear old friends calling for help, screaming in their death throes, was enough of a reason to put the phone on silent.

But the red light was flashing now.

Christie. It was his first thought. A few of the Triste knew the number, but the rest could contact him through the radio. Did he really want to hear the message? it wouldn't be good news, it never was these days. Either she considered herself in a position of power and had decided to make threats or she had never made it back to her local base. Was he ready to have another acquaintance die screaming in the palm of his hand; beyond reach and a dozen miles away?

He clicked a button next to the flashing one.

And heard Christie's message.

It would have been better if I had never seen the light flashing, he mused. But he was a certain kind of man with a certain kind of standard. He was already holstering a shotgun to his back when Megan sauntered into the room, wearing her thick cloak despite the late hour of the night, clutching that thick staff of hers. He had never seen her carve it, never knew where it came from.

"I'm going to go after the woman who was here earlier, she's in trouble."

Megan nodded.

"I need you to look after the others, even Shane. Guide them to the Triste if I'm not back by morning."

"Shouldn't Shane be doing the rescue mission, he thinks himself more of an action hero?"

Tobias nodded in consideration even as he was strapping a pair of pistols to a bandolier. "This will need a measured approach, Shane would take her head as soon as save it. Besides, the kids need a protector now, not a gunsmith. Tell Shane where I'm going in the morning. Which reminds me, I need directions, Christie mentioned an abandoned house..."

Megan closed here eyes for a moment before pointing north-east, toward the outskirts. She gave him more precise directions before stopping. She had a look about her, one that Tobias had come to recognise as a secret, one she needed to share. He thanked her for the directions before asking what it was.

"The shepherd survived the too-big guns...if he finds out who gave the teeth to the wolves who went amongst his flock, he's not going to be happy."

"Don't talk like that, " Tobias snapped playfully, "you use his terms, you're beginning to sound like him."

She was crying suddenly, and Tobias realised how terrified she was that he was leaving. Still, Christie may not be a friend, but she was no monster, and she was in danger. Shane would get the children to the Triste come morning, and hopefully by then he would have got Christie back to the Wolf Pack.

He sat Megan on his knee and sang quietly to her until she dozed off. He lifted her slight dead weight enough that he could get free before striding to the door and leaving.

Beside the fire, Dusk perked up his head, wordlessly taking over the sentry duty.

*ok kids, it's holidays so we're all a little off the ball, but don't let this one die! I figure it's probably a good time to have a "nap break" for our characters" so if one of the next posts could take place the next morning, that would be for the best. Remember, characters need to sleep!"