Tremors

Summer, or should I say, "Pulse", has been given her first mission. What could go wrong?

    "President Andrew has called for a curfew for the country after the disappearance of his daughter, Summer, age 18.  The date of effect nor the hour of the curfew have been disclosed yet.  We will now show the feed from the president this morning about this decision-"

 

The man on the screen disappeared as I shut off the t.v. with a groan.  Neither the high frequency waves of the reminder of my situation was doing me any good.  Tossing the remote aside, I cautiously got up from where I laid down on the ground, making sure not to rip the purple silk chinese dress I had been forced to wear.

 

"That was just one reason for him to put down a curfew," an annoying voice informed me.  I turned to glare at a very calm Fidel leaning against the doorframe.

 

"Let me guess, 'That was his public reason but the true reasons are corrupt and wrong," I mimicked as I made quotes in the air with my fingers.  Slowly, he grinned.

 

"Exactly," Fidel said calmly, and I was so looking forward to getting on his nerves.  "I am quite pleased with my selection for you," He went on with a swift wave over my dress.  I rolled my eyes.

 

"What's it for?  A party?" I asked incredulously.

 

"Exactly.  You're getting the hang of this," He mocked.  I crossed my arms over my chest.

 

"Where?" I probbed.  He glanced at his watch.

 

"At a politician's house.  He sure does like to party," Fidel said with a devilish grin.  Did I catch a double meaning?

 

I nodded, not wanting to know, and headed out the doorway.  Fidel grabbed my arm before I could make it out all the way.  Before I could yell at him to let me go, he pushed my hair behind my ear and I heard a snap as I put in a barrette.

 

"There.  Matches the earrings too," He said with satisfaction.  "Don't lose either," He commanded.

 

"Why?" I asked as I touched the barrette.  It felt like there were jewels; That was why.

 

"It was my mother's," was what Fidel said.  My eyes widened.

 

"And you'd give them over for a mission?" I asked, shocked.  He frowned and then shrugged.

 

"It's all I had to make you look any good," He shot at me.  I glared at him.

 

"Oh, right.  About this party... won't they, I don't know... Recognize me?"  I said.  He grinned.

 

"Masquerade, princess," He replied before suddenly shoving a silk white mask onto my face.

 

I shifted the mask around, feeling uncomfortable underneath it.  Fidel had guided me downt he countless hallways and yet there hadn't been another soul around.  Finally we turned into a room full of people.  A group of six sat around a withering pool table, all with cards in hand.  they stared intensely at them and it was then I noticed the huge amount of junk in the middle of them. It seem they were playing poker.

 

One of the players sighed dramatically, dropped their hand, and walked off to a Pac-Man arcade game at the corner of the room where several other Guards stood chatting over the game.  I figured this was their version of a rec room.  There was even a bucket of ice filled with beer bottles and a mini-fridge beside it.  It was as ill-lit as all the other rooms, though, with only a whirling ceiling fan for light.  At least the walls weren't falling apart.

 

"Hey guys, act like your professionals," Fidel joked to call them to attention.  They glanced up, some looked amused and some just glared in my direction.  Harsh crowd.

 

"This is our newest member, Pulse," Fidel continued, introducing me as if this were first grade.  They nodded and I spotted one kind hand wave, which came from the guy who had bailed out of poker.  He was cute with messy brown bedhead and green eyes under his glasses.  Unlike the others, he had a strange short pulse to him and I couldn't quite put my finger on why that was so.  Also different about him was his get-up.  He wore a Van Halen shirt, still black, under a tux and jeans.  Everyone else was wearing plain black, with the exception of China doll me and Penguin-tux Fidel.

 

"Chaz, are you seriously wearing that?" Fidel asked incredulously as he pointed a finger in Van Halen dude's direction.  The guy shrugged.

 

"It's semi-formal," he argued.  "Look, I got a zoro mask," he continued, waving it in the air.  The group of Guards at the Pac-Man game laughed while the others, playing poker, sighed in aggitation.

 

"Fine, whatever," Fidel said with a sigh.  "Just hurry up and get over here.  We're going to be late."

 

"Oh dear.  Can't be late to the politician's party," Chaz said snidely as he tied on his mask.  I laughed accidentally, trying to disquise it with a cough.  Fidel eyed me, wary.  Chaz walked over and held out his hand to me.

 

"Chaz, nice to make your aquantance," he said with a smile.  I shook his hand, glad to finally have found a friendly face in this joint.  There was still that thing about his signal, though...

 

"Su- I mean, Pulse.  Sorry and same here,"  I replied, stammering.  Fidel checked his watch again.

 

"Van should be here, let's go," he said and started out the room.  chaz and I followed close behind.

 

"Got her?"  Fidel asked randomly.  I looked over at him like he was crazy and then, I felt that same pressure at the base of my neck.

 

"Oh, come on," I whined.  Fidel frowned.

 

"Sorry, Pulse, but this is what we gotta do.  Can't have you giving away our location,"  Chaz said apologetically from behind.  Traitor.  I rolled my eyes.

 

"Fidel, you suck,"  I growled before Chaz pressed down and I was out for the count.

 

***

    In my dream, I was in a van much like the one I probably was trully in, it was white with tinted windows and a dent in the side.  In the dream, though, I was being driven to the White House, my home, and I was concious the whole time.  Fidel silently drove while Chaz held a gun to his head, making sure Fidel was turning when he told him to.  It was pretty comical, but of couse, it was a dream.

 

"...-ulse...Pulse.  Do I really have to call her that?  Why can't I call her Sum or sum'thing like that?" Chaz complained as he slapped me back into reality.  "Or, hey, what about PMS?"  He suggested with a laugh.  I grit my teeth, finally opening my eyes as I grabbed his cheek and pulled.

 

"How about I call you Spaz?"  I retorted as he winced in pain.

 

"Atually, about dat," he tried to say as I pulled his cheek harder, pinching it as well.

 

"His nickname in the group is Spaz," Fidel cooly added as he yanked Chaz away, his cheek audiably slapping back into place.

 

"Why's that?"  I asked as Fidel helped me off the floor and out of the van.

 

"You'll see,"  Chaz said, winking, as he rubbed his cheek.

 

We walked up a well paved driveway filled with expensive cars that ranged from Mercedes to Lamborghinis and even a few limos.  People in glamorous outfits and masks filled the night with color and noise as they filed into the mansion in front of us.  The house's pulse was overflowing with energy from the people and music it contained.  The rings of white-blue frequency skimmed over the cars and through me.

 

"Woah," I murmured as the strength of it gave me a migrain.  It was more than a visual thing, this pulse business, but also physical.  They were vibrations in the air naturally.  It was like sitting on an idle bus, the bus shakes and you feel it pass through you.  With me it was amplified, hence, I never went on trains or buses.  The public just thought I was afraid of them and to an extent, I was.

 

"You okay?" Fidel asked, his brow arched in fake concern.

 

"Like you care," I grumbled, rubbing my temples.  "Let's just go, yeesh," I went on when the both of them did nothing but stare at me.  Chaz shrugged and continued to walk up the pavement.  Fidel took one last look at me.  I shooed him with my hand and then, finally, he let it go.  I continued my walk to the mansion, trying to ignore the pounding in my head as we got closer to the building.  In clubs, I could take it because I'd have alcohol to numb the effects, but here?  Nothing yet and I was sure Fidel wouldn't let me sneak some wine or whatever they'd have available since I was underage and all.  The whole "I'm the president's daughter" business wouldn't work on him, or my looks sadly enough.

 

We walked through the doors and instantly, I felt self-concious, tugging at my mask and hair.  Fidel yanked my hand down with a sigh.

 

"Calm down," Fidel whispered as the man stationed in the hallway asked for the names of the people in front of us.  I nearly had a heart attack.  I glanced over at Fidel, who looked as cool as a cucumber.  When I looked at Chaz, I didn't see Chaz.  I saw an oddly familiar face as he removed his mask, a full tuxedo, and an even odder pulse than normal coming off of him.  It was even faster than usual, as if he were shaking, but he wasn't, was he?

 

"Senator Mitchell, good evening.  Are these your guests?"  The man asked as he glanced us over.

 

"Why, yes they are," Chaz stated calmly in a really fake deep voice.  The man looked back up at him curiously but let us by.

 

"be right back," Chaz said before wandering off into an empty hallway.  I watched him go and spotted a shimmer in his appearance and then bedhead was back.  I blinked.

 

"He can change his image?" I whispered to Fidel.  He nodded slightly, his eyes elsewhere.  "Cool," I breathed as Chaz came back with his zoro mask on.

 

"Thanks," Chaz said with a wink.  Fidel backslapped Chaz in the chest as he eyed yet another familiar person.  I recognized him as the mayor of Washington D.C, George Richardson.  He came to my house when my father was still running for presidency to negotiate terms.  Why was Fidel eyeing him so steadily?

 

The mayor slipped his hand down the back of a woman, who in response dropped her hand-held mask.  I glanced back up at Fidel but his eyes were unreadable.

 

"That him?" Chaz asked.  Fidel nodded.

 

"That's our guy, the host," Fidel clarified.  "Pulse, follow me.  Chaz, make sure George stays occupied," he ordered, putting a hand on my back and pushing me towards the vacant hall Chaz had gone down beforehand.  Chaz sighed and I felt the shift in his image through the tremors coming from his body.  Add that to the raising volume of the music and yelling from too much alchohol and I was dying.  Chaz walked over to the mayor and pulled off his mask, revealing the senator again.

 

"What're you doing with me?" I asked through the pounding headache.  Fidel looked down at me.

 

"You're going to help me find some people," Fidel murmured as he continued to lead me down the hallway.  I was utterly confused.

 

"But, all the people are at the party," I argued, trying to turn around.  He kept his hand firm on my back.

 

"Not the ones I'm looking for," Fidel said darkly.  "Just tell me when you see anyone."

 

"But wouldn't you see them?"  I asked, meaning to annoy him.  Fidel sighed heavily.  Mission accomplished.  "Kidding," I said before he could smite me.  He rolled his eyes.  Suddenly, my headache got worse and I groaned.  I hate sober parties.

 

"You okay?" Fidel asked for the second time.

 

"Nope, but that must mean there are more people nearby," I muttered.  His eyebrows furrowed.

 

"You got that from a headache?" He asked.  Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.

 

"When I'm in a place like this: loud, crowded, and exciting, the pulses are magnified and it hurts -Just to put it in simple terms," I snapped.  "Wait, stop," I said abruptly as I spotted something really peculiar.

 

We stood in front of the mayor's empty bedroom but for some reason, I saw the image of a crowd of people behind his bookcase.  I tilted my head in confusion.

 

"Point," was Fidel's urgent response, so I did.  He headed straight to the shelf and immediately started yanking out books.

 

"What are you doing?" I asked, bewildered.  He continued to toss aside books.

 

"Ever seen movies where they have those hidden rooms?" he asked, yanking away.

 

"Yeah, but those were in-" I started when suddenly the bookshelf pulled away from Fidel. "-movies?" I lamely finished as light spewed out from the apparently hidden room and females in masks and revealing clothes sitting in lounge chairs came into view.  they looked over at us with wide eyes.  Some spoke in rushed foreign languages.

 

"Sex slaves?" I asked, feeling like the breath was nocked out of me.

 

"Mr. Richardson sure does love to party," Fidel repeated from before with a grimace.  He walked into the room and tried to get the women out but they wouldn't budge.

 

"Guys," a breathless voice said from behind me.  I jumped, surprised, and turned to face a heavily breathing Chaz.

 

"Chaz, why're you here?" Fidel asked as he pushed some of the confused women out of the hidden room.  Chaz glanced back down the hallway.

 

"I think they suspected," he groaned.

 

"What?!" Fidel snapped as he pushed more women into the bedroom.

 

"Sorry!  I faultered.  I think they saw my tattoo," Chaz whined.  I finally saw the signature tallon on the nap of his throat.  Interesting spot.

 

"Sum- I mean... damn it!  Just come help," Fidel said, frustrated, as he waved me over.  I ran into the room, grabbing the last woman just as I heard a commotion right outside the bedroom.

 

"Pulse, run!" Fidel yelled as he yanked the last woman out and they fled from the bedroom, scattering about the premises.  I brushed some hair out of my face as I ran and realized then that I shouldn't have to push back any with that barrett in my hair.

 

"S**t!" I growled as I springted back to the bedroom, dodging some men in tuxes, who were trying to grab up the others.

 

"Hey!" One screamed as I whizzed by.  Why'd Fidel have to give me something so damn expensive?

 

I slammed the bedroom door shut behind me, muffling the noise but the panic had multiplied the intensity of my headache as the frequency of the waves increased.  I tried to bare with it as I searched the floor for my barrett.  Finally, I spotted a glint within the hidden room and bolted into the room.  I snatched up the dang thing with a satisfied sigh.

 

"Click," went the bookshelf behind me as it shut.  I knew with a sinking feeling that there was no doorknob on my side and sure enough, when I turned around, there wasn't.  I ran up to the door and banged on it forcefully, hoping against hope that somebody, anybody would hear it over the loud music.

 

After a while, I plopped down to the ground with an agonized cry.  I put the barrett back in my hair with unnecessary force because I was that pissed off.  A few minutes of silence calmed me down until I realized that it shouldn't be quiet.  There was supposed to be a party going on.

 

At that moment of realization that the bookshelf door creaked open and I looked up, expecting Fidel or Chaz but, instead, getting George Richardson.  His eyes widened as he looked down at me and then he did something that made my stomach sink: He rubbed his hands together.

 

"So, they left me one.  I guess I can handle that," He said with a sickening grin.  I slowly backed up.

 

"No, no.  I'm not- this is a misunderstanding," I stammered as he inched closer to me.  He laughed, grabbing my arm and yanking me off the ground.

 

"I get it.  You like to roleplay?  So do I," he said joyfully as he tossed me onto the bed.  Oh, crap!  I went to rip off my mask, hoping when he'd see my face, he'd lay off, but he swatted my hand away.

 

"Oh, no.  I'd like for you to be a mystery girl," Mr. Richardson said as he got on the bed.  I crawled back until my back hit the headboard.

 

"Please, my name is Summer! I'm-" I started but he covered my mouth with his hand.

 

"Yes, yes, I know.  You're hot indeed," He said dubiously.  I could feel my heart pounding and my stomach felt like it was being thrown around inside me like a frisbee.

 

I pushed at him uselessly and when he started to unbutton his suit, I kicked and screamed.  No way was this happening to me!

 

"Hey, b***h!" He growled when I got him square in the jaw.  He grabbed at my hair, yanking it and the string from my mask until it snapped.  My mask fell off and there was a gasp as it dawned on him.  As quickly as he'd grabbed me, he'd let go and practically flew off the bed.

 

"Andrew's daughter?" He asked, shocked.  I sprang off the bed just as the door opened with a bang.  One second, I was staring at Mr. Richardson and the next, I was staring at a frightening Fidel.  I glanced down at the floor in time to see Mr. Richardson sprawled on the floor, unconcious, before Fidel grabbed and yanked me out of the room.

 

Before I could blink, I was in the white van, speeding towards safety.

 

"What the hell were you thinking?" Fidel screamed at me from the driver's seat.  I sat up from where he'd all but thrown me in the back of the car.  Chaz sat in the passenger seat, frowning.

 

"I had to get your stupid barrett," I defended as I was tossed around with every sharp turn.

 

"You... you risked your life and ours for a barrett?" He yelled in disbelief.  I cringed back.

 

"An expensive one!  And I thought you'd yell at me - like you are now- if I'd lost it!" I screamed back, flinging the wretched thing at him.  Chaz sighed, rubbing his temples.

 

"You're so stupid," Fidel growled, glaring at the road after catching the barrett in midair.

 

"Thanks for coming back for me," I said quietly after a long pause.  I was still shaking from what had almost happened.

 

"Any time," Chaz said at the same time that Fidel snapped a "you're welcome".  I sighed.  I didn't want him to stay pissed at me.  I mean, I had to train with him and I really did not want an angry trainer.  Plus, I'd have to live with this dude.

 

"Where are those women?" I asked.  fidel finally slowed his driving down to a reasonable speed.

 

"We had another van ready to take them to a safe haven," Fidel replied.

 

"Everybody got out fine?" I continued, wanting to make sure.

 

"Maybe.  Are you okay?" Chaz asked.  I shrugged, gripping my upper arms in an attempt to minimize my shaking.

 

"I guess I am," I said in reply.  He smiled, unable to sense my shudders.

 

"Then yeah, they did," he answered.  I smiled back at him in delight.  It was then that the car came to a stop.  I finally noticed how I was concious.

 

"Aw, you guys trust me?" I asked as Chaz opened the backdoor to let me out.  I beamed, cheesy as ever, at them.  Fidel rolled his eyes as we walked up to the entrance of the Guard's building.

 

"No, we just didn't have the time to knock both you and the mayor out," Fidel snapped at me.  I rubbed my temples in aggitation.

 

"Any chance you may get un-pissed at me?" I asked with a long sigh.  He grunted.

 

"Only when you stop shaking," Fidel grumbled as he slung an arm around my shoulder and rubbed my arm.  Of course he had to notice.

Reviews

[OutToLunch]

it's good....

gawd, you're making me book-crazy!