Difference between revisions of "Atlantis Rising: Chapter 2"

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Line 107: Line 107:
  
 
Jamie shrugged. "It'd be fun, though."
 
Jamie shrugged. "It'd be fun, though."
 +
 +
"I-" Matt was cut off by the sound of crashing glass.
 +
 +
The four of them looked at eachother for a moment. Matt and Jamie stood and pulled knives from their pants pockets. There was another crash, then an alarm as the sensors in the window that had just broken were tripped.
 +
 +
Jamie started for the dining room, where the sounds had begun.
 +
 +
Matt caught him by the collar. "Don't even think about it, moron."
 +
 +
"But if there's just one guy and we have knives-"
 +
 +
"And if he's just one guy with just one gun he can put a bunch of somewhat painful holes through your body. It doesn't take a trained marksman to hit a guy six feet tall inside a confined room."
 +
 +
"We could ambush hime-"
 +
 +
"Everyone upstairs, to my office." Matt ordered. The girls hurried up the stairs, reluctantly followed by Jamie.
 +
 +
Matt closed the doors as they went, locking each one quickly. They stopped at a landing at the top and took the door to the left, entering his office. At the other end of this room was Matt's bedroom; on the right of the landing was a similar configuration for his parents.
 +
 +
Matt double checked that everyone was in the room, shut the solid maple door, slid the bolt, and jumped to the window. He leaned against the side of the frame, holding his knife backhanded. There were three men running around his lawn, smashing everything breakable in sight, looting the place for valuables.
 +
 +
The sight nearly boiled Matt's blood.
 +
 +
"Hey Matt?" Holly said. "You've got some black paint in that art kit of yours, right?"
 +
 +
"Somewhere. Why?" Matt asked through clenched teeth, then looked over his shoulder.
 +
 +
Holly was grinning, clutching an airsoft rifle to her chest. A mockup HK-UMP45 Matt took down a wood box from a shelf, opened the clamshell kit, and selected a tube of matte black acrylic paint. He didn't bother with a brush, but used his finger to smear the orange-colored cap with the paint, masking its 'I'm a toy, not a weapon' indicator. Jamie similarly treated a pair of handguns Matt also kept in his desk while Matt fished his Maglite out of a drawer.
 +
 +
"So where's your duct-tape?" Jamie asked expectantly. Matt winced.
 +
 +
"Well..."
 +
 +
"Tell me you ha- you don't have duct-tape up here, do you." Jamie finished, shaking his head. "Kenderson, you disappoint me."
 +
 +
"Well, I didn't really expect armed robbers to be invading my beach house anytime soon, did I? Boxing tape works just as well."
 +
 +
"Why the ''H'' do you have boxing tape up here but not duct-tape?" Jamie practically yelled.
 +
 +
"I was packaging your Christmas present, as a matter of fact. I think it's safe to say you could use it right now."
 +
 +
"What is it?" Jamie asked. Matt lifted a small amazon box. Jamie tore it open.
 +
 +
"Isn't this illegal?" Jamie asked, awe coloring his voice.
 +
 +
"Who cares?" Matt answered. "Its a combat knife."
 +
 +
"I'll take that knife, then." Scar said, pulling Jamie's regular flip-out blade from the pocket of his jeans. "I called the police, they're on the way. Ten minutes out."
 +
 +
"For all the good that'll do us. My house will be torched and completely destroyed by then." Matt muttered angrily. He shook his head and collapsed into his desk chair, face resting in his hands. Something felt off. He was getting a huge migraine, and something was churning unnaturally in his stomach. Matt got the impression it wasn't really his stomach, though. More kidney-area.
 +
 +
The door knob to Matt's office wiggled. When the door didn't budge, someone shouted in Russian and banged on the door with an armored fist.
 +
 +
Matt spoke near-perfect Russian, on account of his having taken it since 8th grade.
 +
 +
"Go away." Jamie yelled.
 +
 +
A torrent of angry Russian followed a second later. The four of them looked to Matt as the tirade wore on.
 +
 +
"He says to open the door." Matt said, biting his lip to keep from laughing.
 +
 +
The look on Holly's face at receiving such a brief translation for such a long rant prompted Matt to explain, "He also calls us a good deal of some rather rude names. I learned a couple myself there."
  
 
----
 
----
 
[[Phoenix Rising: Chapter 3]]
 
[[Phoenix Rising: Chapter 3]]

Revision as of 21:49, 18 January 2010

The second chapter of the series.

Previous Chapter: Phoenix Rising: Chapter 1

Homepage: Atlantis

I've done some switching around of chapters, and a bit of off-line work, which brings this chapter into play.

Also see: Reaper's First Drop


‎‎‎‎23:04 Hours, December 9, 2012 (Military Calendar), a crowded bar, Miami, Florida. ‎

Matt carefully aimed down the length of his weapon, all his attention focused on his target. Matt drew his weapon back, tensed, and rammed it home-

The white ball jumped forward with a satisfying crack, hit the solid blue, and sent it spinning towards the corner pocket. The blue ball bounced off the bumper and missed the pocket by an inch.

Jamie laughed. "It's okay, we all suck sometimes." And he stepped forward, aimed at a striped orange ball, drew back. And completely whiffed. The stick ripped through the air and smacked the side of the white ball, sending it spiraling into the side pocket.

"Scratch one!" Scar laughed. "Nice shooting, Jamie."

Matt looked at him. They stared at each other for a second, then Matt said, "Really?"

"Shutup." Jamie said, almost simultaneously, a grin developing on his face.

"Really?" Matt repeated.

"It's okay, Jamie, we all suck sometimes." Holly said. "My shot, right?"

"Yep. Don't whiff." Matt grinned.

"Choke!" Jamie coughed right as Holly took the shot. Holly's shot jumped into the air and almost scratched.

Matt stared at Holly in mock accusation.

Holly punched Jamie in the arm. "Hey, thanks."

"Ow." Jamie winced, rubbing his shoulder. Holly turned away, but Matt saw Jamie roll his eyes and grin behind her back. "Alright, Scar, show 'em how it's done."

The four of them were on winter vacation in Miami. Friends since forever. Scarlett Miller, known to the group as Scar, Holly Dayne, Jamie Campbell, and Matt Kenderson.

Scar lined up her shot, took it, wincing as it went before finally making it into the pocket.

"Yeah! Alright, Scar!" Jamie whooped.

Matt raised his eyebrows. "It's just a game of pool."

"That I happen to be beating you in," Jamie continued, immediately making Matt both annoyed and laughing.

"Don't get used to it." Matt muttered as Scar missed her next shot. Matt proceeded to demonstrate one of his semi-random bouts of extraordinary pool-shooting ability, knocking in five consecutive balls. He then completely whiffed on the last one.

"How do you manage to do that when you suck as badly as the rest of us?" Holly asked.

"What can I say? Must be a beast or something." Matt nodded sarcastically.

Matt leaned back on the wall, drained his coke, and stole Holly's.

Jamie made his shot, noticed Matt's growing stack of empty glasses, and said, "There he goes again. I swear, you go through coke like normal people go through water."

"Which I've only heard about half-a-million times, by the way."

"Truth's the truth, man." Jamie replied.

In the next two shots, Holly knocked in the last of the solids and then the black, winning the game.

"Hmm, sucks." Matt sighed. He looked up, and the look on Jamie's face was hilarious enough that Matt took a picture of it with his cellphone and texted it back to Jamie.

Jamie opened his phone and looked at the picture. "Very funny. You're a riot."

"I'm glad you appreciate it." Matt grinned, sliding his phone shut.

"Lemme see." Scar slid up and examined Jamie's phone. "Very cute." She informed him.

"No you didn't say it right," Holly smiled. "It goes, 's'cute.'"

"S'cute, then." Jamie said. "Anyways."

All four of them put their sticks up. Matt slipped on his sweatshirt and waited for the others at the door. They left the bar, and once on the street, Matt asked, "You guys wanna crash at my place again?"

"Yeah, sure. That was part of the deal." Jamie said, speaking for them all.

The four of them piled into Matt's Hybrid Prius, Matt being the only one yet with a driver's license. Holly and Scar hadn't gotten around to getting one yet, and Jamie had some kind of problem with his parents. Matt wasn't exactly sure. The Prius was an older car, but Matt's dad had amused himself with the various attempts Matt had thrown up at changing his dad's mind for his first car. Absolutely point blank, it wasn't going to be a new, expensive one.

Scar and Jamie looked at eachother, then both raced for the shotgun seat. Scar beat him this time.

"You got me this time." Jamie admitted as he took his hand off of hers, which had been on the handle first.

"Pff. What happened to chivalry?" Matt asked.

"Matt, there are a few things still left for you to learn. One of them is Calculus," At which Matt nodded, grimacing. "And the other is that chivalry becomes moot and void when in certain circumstances. One such circumstance is fighting for shotgun in a car."

"You'll have to teach me at a later date." Matt said, and powered up the car.

The fifteen minute drive to the outskirts of the city quickly brought them to Matt's parent's house in Miami. Located directly on the beach, it was a giant beach villa, fit specifically for leisure and recreation. Terra-cotta roof shingles went perfectly with the white-washed stucco walls and open-air courtyards, accented by large windows and graceful balconies. The house was built kind of like a fortress, with the garage at the front, directly connected to a courtyard that served as the front hall. A door led into the living room, and then the rest of the house was completely open, with very few walls, except where a grand staircase on one side rose into the assymetrical tower that held four bedrooms, three study/library rooms, and an aquarium.

After having parked the car, Matt walked through the courtyard and deposited his shoes near the archway, saying, "Alright guys, you know the drill. Shoes at the door, 'cause my parents'l kill me if they find a speck of dirt anywhere else in the place. Anyone up for a drink?" then hopped over the bar into the semi-modern kitchen. The rest of the crew slid onto barstools in front of one of the kitchen's two counters.

Matt opened the fridge, saying, "We've got Vanilla Coke, ginger ale, Dr. Pepper, you name it we got it."

"I'll have the usual." Jamie smirked as he leaned back on the stool. Matt slid him a Dr. Pepper and a ginger ale, then a plastic glass filled with ice. He grabbed a coke for Holly and Scar, a vanilla coke for himself, and put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, leaning against the counter and admiring the view past the now-open doors leading to another courtyard, with a pool and pool table, as well as a mini tiki-bar. Right past the sea-wall, down ten feet, was the beach, thirty feet of private sand, into the crash of the waves. Paradise.

Jamie swirled his ginger-ale-Dr. Pepper combination in his glass and took a sip. "I love this place. How about I just like move in?"

"Fine by me, but you'd have to secure permission from the higher authorities." Matt said.

"Yeaaahh I don't see that happening." Scar smiled.

Jamie shrugged. "It'd be fun, though."

"I-" Matt was cut off by the sound of crashing glass.

The four of them looked at eachother for a moment. Matt and Jamie stood and pulled knives from their pants pockets. There was another crash, then an alarm as the sensors in the window that had just broken were tripped.

Jamie started for the dining room, where the sounds had begun.

Matt caught him by the collar. "Don't even think about it, moron."

"But if there's just one guy and we have knives-"

"And if he's just one guy with just one gun he can put a bunch of somewhat painful holes through your body. It doesn't take a trained marksman to hit a guy six feet tall inside a confined room."

"We could ambush hime-"

"Everyone upstairs, to my office." Matt ordered. The girls hurried up the stairs, reluctantly followed by Jamie.

Matt closed the doors as they went, locking each one quickly. They stopped at a landing at the top and took the door to the left, entering his office. At the other end of this room was Matt's bedroom; on the right of the landing was a similar configuration for his parents.

Matt double checked that everyone was in the room, shut the solid maple door, slid the bolt, and jumped to the window. He leaned against the side of the frame, holding his knife backhanded. There were three men running around his lawn, smashing everything breakable in sight, looting the place for valuables.

The sight nearly boiled Matt's blood.

"Hey Matt?" Holly said. "You've got some black paint in that art kit of yours, right?"

"Somewhere. Why?" Matt asked through clenched teeth, then looked over his shoulder.

Holly was grinning, clutching an airsoft rifle to her chest. A mockup HK-UMP45 Matt took down a wood box from a shelf, opened the clamshell kit, and selected a tube of matte black acrylic paint. He didn't bother with a brush, but used his finger to smear the orange-colored cap with the paint, masking its 'I'm a toy, not a weapon' indicator. Jamie similarly treated a pair of handguns Matt also kept in his desk while Matt fished his Maglite out of a drawer.

"So where's your duct-tape?" Jamie asked expectantly. Matt winced.

"Well..."

"Tell me you ha- you don't have duct-tape up here, do you." Jamie finished, shaking his head. "Kenderson, you disappoint me."

"Well, I didn't really expect armed robbers to be invading my beach house anytime soon, did I? Boxing tape works just as well."

"Why the H do you have boxing tape up here but not duct-tape?" Jamie practically yelled.

"I was packaging your Christmas present, as a matter of fact. I think it's safe to say you could use it right now."

"What is it?" Jamie asked. Matt lifted a small amazon box. Jamie tore it open.

"Isn't this illegal?" Jamie asked, awe coloring his voice.

"Who cares?" Matt answered. "Its a combat knife."

"I'll take that knife, then." Scar said, pulling Jamie's regular flip-out blade from the pocket of his jeans. "I called the police, they're on the way. Ten minutes out."

"For all the good that'll do us. My house will be torched and completely destroyed by then." Matt muttered angrily. He shook his head and collapsed into his desk chair, face resting in his hands. Something felt off. He was getting a huge migraine, and something was churning unnaturally in his stomach. Matt got the impression it wasn't really his stomach, though. More kidney-area.

The door knob to Matt's office wiggled. When the door didn't budge, someone shouted in Russian and banged on the door with an armored fist.

Matt spoke near-perfect Russian, on account of his having taken it since 8th grade.

"Go away." Jamie yelled.

A torrent of angry Russian followed a second later. The four of them looked to Matt as the tirade wore on.

"He says to open the door." Matt said, biting his lip to keep from laughing.

The look on Holly's face at receiving such a brief translation for such a long rant prompted Matt to explain, "He also calls us a good deal of some rather rude names. I learned a couple myself there."


Phoenix Rising: Chapter 3

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