The Seven Days of Halloween : Stranded, Part 1

[avirra.livejournal.com]

My apologies, but I didn't have anything in my archives that I thought really fit here, so with your indulgence, I'm going to post a seven part Halloween tale featuring the gang.  And so, without further ado :

The four agents were battered, tired and soaked to the skin. None of them were complaining though. The flattened car they had left behind them was mute testimony to how much worse things could have been.

Illya was the one that spotted the light that could barely be made out through the pouring rain. They could only hope that wherever the light was at was a place where they could beg for at least a covered porch to sit under while the rain lasted.

None of them were wearing shoes designed for a long hike even in dry weather. The wet, sucking mud that they were trudging through had already claimed both of April's shoes and one of Napoleon's. Neither agent was inclined to fight the mud to retrieve them and carried on as the dim light slowly got brighter ahead of them.

April smiled in hope as the white picket fence came into view. To her, a white picket fence was a symbol of hospitality. Mark was a bit warier, but the thought of a few minutes out of the rain won out over caution.

Finding the gate closed, but unlocked, the four made their way through it and hurried up to the covered porch. The dryness of the old wooden bench and chairs was inviting as the water literally ran off of them. Napoleon gave up trying to dry off an hand and rapped on the door.

The woman opening the door looked to be about the same age as April, but she was wearing an old-fashioned high necked dress of white with long-sleeves. Her expression on seeing them moved quickly from surprise to concern as one hand brushed back her blonde bangs.

"You poor things. You must be freezing . . . but can I ask you to wait right here? I'll bring you something dry. My power is out and if you bring the damp inside with you, you'll never warm up."

"Thank you - just being able to stand out of the rain is a treat, ma'am."

She left the door open and they could see her shadowy figure moving from place to place. She handed the first bundle to April.

"The side porch should be dry and it will give you a little privacy. Put your wet things into a pile and I'll spread them out to dry."

"That's very generous of you. Thank you."

Once April took the bundle, she turned to the men.

"I'm sorry I don't have much I can offer you but towels and blankets, but you need to get out of those wet things as well before you all come down with pneumonia. Once you're dry, wrap up in a blanket and come right on inside. I've got a fireplace - I'll get it started and warm up something for you to drink."

Illya reached out a hand to accept one of the towels.

"What you are offering is fine, madam. You are very kind."

The woman blushed and then ducked back inside to allow the men some privacy as they pulled off their sodden clothes. Mark couldn't resist a tease at Illya.

"I do believe she fancies you, mate."

Though slightly disappointed that the lovely blonde hadn't looked his way, Napoleon joined in with the ribbing.

"It's the hair color. They go toward each other like magnets."

Rolling his eyes at the pair, Illya was the first to head inside. He was looking forward to the promised fire. April was a close second and, by the time Mark and Napoleon joined them, they were both already comfortably settled in chairs. Something about the fireplace struck Napoleon as odd, but he couldn't figure out what it was. The warmth was so welcome, he decided it wasn't worth worrying about.

The woman came back in bearing a small tray holding four steaming mugs.

"It's only broth I had simmering to make soup with, but I hope it will do for now. It's a good thing I still have my old wood stove."

The broth was hot and fragrant with herbs that Illya hadn't smelled since he was a boy. After his first sip, his face took on the expression that Napoleon had thought was reserved for French pastries. Napoleon had to admit though that, so far as broth went, it was probably the best he'd ever tasted.

Once they each had their mug, she sat the tray down on a nearby table.

"Please pardon my rudeness. Here I've not even asked your names or introduced myself. Please call me Mildred."

April was the only one not sipping broth at the time, so she jumped in with their side of the introductions.

"I'm April and these are my friends, Napoleon, Mark and Illya. We were traveling through the area when a landslide caught our car."

Mildred gasped at that.

"My stars! I've always said they needed to do something about that hillside - that's not the first time part of it has given way. You're lucky to be alive."

Lowering his mug, Mark joined in.

"And even luckier to have found your home. I'm not sure how we would have managed if we hadn't."

Mildred smiled at Mark, but her eyes strayed back over to Illya.

"I'm certainly glad that you found me then. I'm sorry to tell you though that the last time the hill gave way, it took two days to clear. Of course, they had to wait until the rains to stop before that started work. I don't have a lot of room, but you're welcome to stay at least until it dries up some. April, if it wouldn't bother you, we used to have a lady that lived here that took care of my folks. The room is off the kitchen and tiny, but it's clean, warm and you'd have it to yourself. And Mark, you and Napoleon could sleep in my folks old room. Not meaning any offense, Illya, but where you're a bit smaller, you're probably the only one that would be able to sleep on the couch in the parlor. It's very comfortable, but not very wide."

"As I would be most grateful to sleep on a dry floor, the couch is most welcome."

April noticed the blush this time, but hid her smiles behind her mug. Their hostess seemed to be a slightly shy, very proper young woman. Just the sort that could evade Napoleon's charms only to fall for Illya.

Between the adrenaline rush at the landslide, the long hard walk through the bad weather and now the warmth of the fire combined with the warm broth, all four agents were stifling yawns before emptying their mugs. Mildred waved aside their apologies.

"You folks are bound to be exhausted. Let me show you to where you'll be sleeping and you can head right to bed. With the rain coming down as hard as it is and the power being out, I'll think I'll turn in early myself after I spread your clothes out to dry."

None of them argued her suggestion. April found the small room to be cozy rather than claustrophobic with a soft bed and plenty of warm covering. Napoleon and Mark had to share a bed, but there was enough room for both men to stretch out without colliding with one another. Illya found the couch was even more comfortable that he had dared hope and Mildred provided him with two pillows as well as both blanket and quilt.

As he slept that night, Illya had dreams such as he'd never had before. Dreams of moving wild and free under a full moon - almost like riding, but no, he was running under his own power to a hill. And atop the hill was a pale wolf.

In the upstairs bedroom, Mark startled awake and stared at the window. All he could hear now was a low rumble of thunder, but he would have sworn that it was the howl of a wolf that had woken him up.

. . . tbc

Comments

[jantojones.livejournal.com]

Can't wait to read through this story. it looks like it will be fantastic, in every sense of the word.

[avirra.livejournal.com]

Yes - and I hope I'll be forgiven for a touch of the macabre in a Halloween tale.