The Porters, Page 4

 

 

  Chapter 6 – Let the war begin

  “War doesn’t determine who was right. Only who was left.”

  -Unknown

  I laughed a bit and they all stared at me strangely. I kicked myself mentally. They think you’re running the whole god damned war and now you’re laughing at them? 10 points to Mel.

  “Oh,” I cleared my throat. “I’m not Ryne Owens. Come inside and make yourselves comfortable while I go wake him up.”

  I watched them file in one by one and counted 12. I shut the door and almost ran for Ryne. His face was softened by sleep and I didn’t want to wake him up. I touched his shoulder lightly. He opened his eyes and looked up at me.

  “Hey,” he spoke groggily.

  “You have to get up,” I pulled the sheets off him. “They’re here.”

  ********

 

  I stood at the door and let them make their connections with me. I looked at the girl with white-ish blonde hair. Her connection was different from the others. I smiled a bit and she seemed to blush

  “My name is Ryne Owens,” He spoke to get their attention. “I will be running this war and I will also be ending it!”

  Cheers filled the room and Mel slipped past me to stand in the small crowd. The blonde moved closer to me and Mel made a strange noise, almost a warning. The blonde took a step back as she realized Mel was one of my guardians.

  “Let us introduce ourselves,” The blonde smiled at me. “I am Jill Lionstock and I am also a keeper.” She bowed before and I bowed back.

  “My name is Jennifer Perez,” Spoke a dirty blonde haired girl. “You may call me Jenni, I am a runner.”

  “Name’s Liam Anderson,” The man had a southern accent. “I’m also a runner.”

  “Mark Day,” The man had a British accent. “Runner like the last two.”

  “My name is Kiley,” The girl looked bland. “This is my brother Riley. We are Ms. Lionstock’s guardians.”

  We do not speak and we do not own names, for names bind us somewhat close to humans. Three voices echoed in my head. We are Ms. Lionstock’s preachers. That is the only title we carry and we carry it proudly.

  The robed men moved to stand behind Jill in a swift movement. It was almost like they were the same person, but locked in different bodies.

  Two boys and a girl stood in front of me. “My name’s Mark,” Said the tallest of the three. “He is my brother, Hector and my sister Danny.”

  “Welcome to my home,” I gestured towards Mel. “This is one of my guardians, Melody.”

  She nodded towards the people who turned to face her. I rubbed my hands together.

  “So I’m guessing you three,” I signaled towards the last people to be introduced to me. “Are my preachers. Ms. Lionstock must be my right hand commander?”

  “No,” She shook her head. “Which one of your guardians do you care about most?”

  I looked at Mel and she stared at the floor. Her face seemed distant and unreachable.

  “I value Nicky for her help, but Mel for her courage.”

  “So you value Nicky more?”

  “Yes,” I saw a flicker in Mel’s expression but it changed back to unreadable in a flash.

  “So Nicky is your right hand and I am your left hand. Melody is sort of like a,” Jill waved her hands around like the word would magically appear on a piece of paper. “Like an assistant.”

  I expected Mel to stand up for herself, but she stood behind the mass of people. She stared at Jill silently.

  “So we are here to discuss the obvious topic,” Jill pointed towards the door. “Out everyone.”

  I reached out for Mel as she left and she jerked away from me. I felt the guilt set in.

  “What are your plans?” I gestured to one of the seats in the dining room.

  “Plans?” She laughed. “I thought you were supposed to plan those.”

  “Over course,” I nodded. “But I also am supposed to listen to ideas.”

  “Touché,” She nodded. “First we need to find out who their commanding officer is.”

  “They call him ‘The Collector’.” I didn’t let her even begin the list.

  “How do you know that?” She asked with awe in her voice.

  “My assistant, as you call her, knows some venatores,” I stared at her confused face. “Sorry. My guardian also gave us names. We are the porters and they are the venatores, it stands for hunter in Latin. Anyways after some torture she managed to get that out of him, though he wouldn’t explain why.”

  I ran my hand through my hair and my arm scratched against something hard. I touched my neck and remembered the necklace Mel gave me. What had she said that night that caught my attention? Oh yeah, ‘We change lives every day.’ Not always for the best.

  “Great,” Jill smiled brightly. “That’s really good. As for the names I’ll make sure my preachers get that out to everyone. So we’re all on the same page here.”

  “So we have a name, we’re going to need a face.”

  “We have humans inside the system helping us try and find it out. After we do find the face, we’re going to have to take him down. They’ll find a leader, but we’re giving ourselves some time to make battle plans. Attack the chicken while its heads cut off.”

  “That sounds great,” I felt my smile grow and then fade a bit. “So we wait until our moles can find out our target?”

  “Yes,” She paused a moment. “In the mean time we can plan attacks, back-up plans, defense plans, last minute plans, and back-up plans for our back-up plans. We need to know our move three steps behind.”

  “Okay,” I nodded. “So we talk to the runners and make plans. We keep making plans, even if they’re stupid. We make plans until we are basically writing down the word plan?”

  “Yes, because anything could happen. One small bump and we collapse unless we knew there would be a bump and made a sturdy bike.”

  “You’re really good with metaphors,” She blushed at my comment.

 

  ********

  I sat down in the living room with 11 other people. So many details to take in and so many connections that it was so tangled I didn’t even care anymore that I trusted them. We needed each other and that was that.

  I stared at the girl who called herself ‘Jenni’. I guessed her to be in her mid-late 30’s. Her dirty, blonde hair was super straight and went down most of her back. Her eyes were a mash between blue and green. She was shorter than I was, but looked older than me. Freckles covered her face, arms, and chest. I sort of expected her to talk like a hilly billy. I, once again, kicked myself mentally.

  She wore a half shirt that made some strange symbol on it. I recognized it as the tattoo that woman had in the coffee shop. I had seen it many times when she handed me my coffee, but never got to asking her about it. She wore a white tang top under it. Her ripped jeans made her legs look skinner and she wore green high top shoes that matched her shirt.

  Mark Day kept looking back at me. He looked around my age, 22 or maybe 23. His green eyes had specks of gold in them, which added to the intensity of the color. His brown hair was curling and he was very, very attractive. He had a warm smile and his eyes followed the smile. I guessed he was observing me like I was everyone else. Did I mention his British accent?

  Kiley and Riley were exactly the same expect for the whole gender thing. They both had dull, gray eyes and brown hair that seemed lifeless. They were both a bit round around the edges, but they had nice smiles that lit up all their features. They were almost ageless; they had a face that could be 17 or 37.

  I felt a bit nervous about the three that sat in the corner away from us. They looked at each other, well, their robes turned to see who had spoken and they faced the wall. They almost looked like death themselves. Once, one of them lifted their arm a bit and the long robe slipped, exposing their arm. I almost screamed.

 
The hand wasn’t deformed, it was discolored. It was an almost transparent color. I could see the veins under his skin working and chills ran down my spine and I tugged my sweater so it would be closer. They seemed so distant, different. Their voices inside my head sounded lost.

  I looked over to the family of 3. The oldest, or so I assumed because of his height, was Mark. Mark looked to be about 30-ish. He had red hair that was almost copper. It was beautiful and I smiled at the glints of gold in the hair. He was handsome despite being a red head. He had no freckles or weird moles. His blue eyes stared at the television with focus and I wondered how he could be so different from the no-names.

  His eyebrows were a darker blonde color which I thought helped out the gold in his hair. As if sensing someone staring, he looked at me. His eyelashes cast a shadow along his defined cheekbones and cheeks. I gave him a polite smile and turned back to the television. As soon as his gaze was off me I looked at his siblings.

  Hector was in his earlier 20’s. His hair was an obviously dyed brown color that made him seem younger for some odd reason. He had his brother’s blue eyes and facial structure, though something about him was so different from his brother. Maybe it was the rebellion in his eyes. I smiled a bit.

  Danny was probably the youngest of all of us, in her late teen years. Her face carried a small amount of acne and her hair was the same copper color as her brother, but hers curled wildly and were pulled into a high pony tail. She stared at Liam with a slight curiosity.

  Liam was the hilly billy. He had a southern accent and I ached to get him to talk non-stop. With his long, black hair he could easily be confused for a chick from behind, I almost burst out laughing at that thought. He was a pretty big man though. He was over 6 feet tall and was pure muscle. His jaw was set and he barely fit in the loveseat he sat on.

  It doesn’t matter Mel, what you try and distract yourself with. We, or I, know Ryne likes Nicky better. ‘In the end he will pick me’. And she was painfully right. I was just the annoying assistant that was there just to be there. Probably to be thrown into the wolves first. I rolled my shoulders.

  I touched the necklace at my throat. I wanted to break the extended hand that was supposed to hold Ryne’s. It was stupid and childish to think he even liked you. He just needed you for survival. He stood on your shoulders to get the boost up and never came back.

  There was a hand on my shoulder and I looked up to Mark Day. He put a single finger on his mouth and gestured for me to take his hand. I looked at the others. They would be fine and I let my curiosity take the best of me. I gripped it and suddenly we were in my room.

  “How did you know-?”

  “I didn’t,” He answered. “I took you to your escape place. You looked like you needed to get away. Too many faces for ya?”

  “Yeah,” I lied.

  “It was what Ryne said about that Nicky,” Mark’s accent was sweet to listen to. “You thought he would choose you.”

  “It was stupid,” I sat on my bed. “They’ve known each other longer. I was just meant to be here to protect, not to love. It just sucks the way things have to be.”

  “The war isn’t helping either is it?”

  “No,” I sighed. “It just makes things worse.”

  “How about after the keeper’s meeting you let me take you out for a drink, to get your mind off things.”

  “Like a date?” I looked at him. “You’re asking me on a date?”

  “Why do you seem so surprised?” His green eyes traveled all around my room.

  “I never talk this much,” I shrugged. “It seems like you know exactly what to say to get me to say stuff. So we go on a date to get to know each other, to get my mind off things.”

  “Yeah, so what do you say?”

  “Okay,”