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Chapter Twenty Six
A Golden State
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TThe RV acted as a moving island in the swirling river of night time traffic as it made its way down the freeway and into the Greater Los Angeles area.

Adam, currently at the wheel, followed Sue's occasional directions as they headed towards the coast.

"Are you sure you want to head straight to the Airport?" Sue asked again, "I have plenty of room for everyone. It is a big house, with three empty guest rooms."

"Yes, Sue. Trust me, the quicker Sally and I can get to the Tribunal, the quicker we can get this whole situation resolved. And Cassandra is really looking forward to catching up with Duncan."

Yeah, but can we even make it to the Airport in this thing in time to get you three on the 11:30 flight?" Sue asked, looking out her side window and catching a glimpse of her Geo bouncing along behind on it's trailer.

If you can get me to the airport, we should be fine." Adam replied, changing lanes to pass a slowly moving truck, one which apparently actually believed in the 55 mph speed limit advertised by the white signs every few miles along the road.

Once past the truck, Adam returned himself to the second lane in, where his relatively slow 60 mph progress wouldn't impede the faster cars constantly whizzing by on the left, and occasionally on the right as well. The slower moving truck dwindled in the rear and was replaced by a blue Cooper, which came up behind the Geo on it's trailer and decided to honk at it.

Cassandra hung up Adam's phone, and came up to hang between the front seats as she told Adam, "ok, we've got tickets. The last two in First Class, and one for myself in coach."

"Alliance?" asked Adam.

"Yes. 11:10pm departure, gate 12. Currently still onetime."

"Good, I like their beers." Adam replied.

"Take the 110 up here," Sue advised, "West."

Adam followed her directions, then asked, "You said Sally and I are up in front, with you in coach, why?"

"Couple of reasons, first, with that bump on her head this afternoon, she really shouldn't be left alone. Second, with the two of you together, you can get started on strategizing how you're going to get Sue's neck here off the chopping block, so to speak."

Sue looked over her shoulder and saw Adam nodding. "Yes, that is a good idea."

Sue felt a flush of emotions as she noted the protective expression on Adam's face.

Once Adam was on-track for the airport, Sue got up and made her way to the back of the RV. Sally was sitting at the dinette, facing forward, holding the side of her head. "Vampires. Who woulda thought thea were nae jus' fiction?"

"I wouldn't of thought them possible if I hadn't seen them go 'poof' myseelf when they lost their heads." Sue replied, "Speaking of which, how's yours?"

"I took some Aspirin, and drank that infernal Rescue Remedy you gave me. The pain is fading." Sally answered with a slight move of her shoulders that was more wince than shrug. "I didn't get a chance to say it before, but I am really glad you four were there. An' that you took care of them."

"Four?", Sue asked.

"I'm a watcher, lass. I may not of picked up on it right away, but I know why ye resigned. An' I have my suspicions 'bout Adam. I think he's older than he looks, a lot older. But that isn't any o' my problem. My job is ta watch my 'mmortal, an' keep her chronicle. I hope I can revise it a bit before I die though. Let Adam know that in a few years, in case I don't get a chance to. For now, as you yanks say, I'll let sleeping dogs lie," she finished with a sideways glance at the coyote laying on the floor in front of the door well.

"I don't know what to say," Sue said, a flush rising to her face.

"Don't say a thing, because the less you say, the less I have ta pretend not ta hear. I just wanted you ta know, is all."

Sue couldn't respond to that verbally, so she did the only thing she could, and gave the redhead a solid hug. "I hope you come sometime and visit me." She said, letting go.


"Probably. An' probably wi' Cassandra, if I know my 'mmortal." Sally responded with a grin.

As they approached the airport, Adam worried a bit about getting such a large vehicle in, especially with the car on it's trailer banging along behind.

"I don't think there are any restrictions, Adam. The only problem I see is parking, but if we just pull up and everyone gets out, Patrick can take the wheel and orbit while you get checked in. I can go in with you, just to make sure you get through security all right, and then I'll go back out, and wave Patrick down the next time he comes by."

Plan decided upon, Adam deftly maneuvered the RV through the airport traffic, until he got to terminal seven. He then slid over to the right, and double parked beside a row of cars disgorging passengers. Leaving the engine running, he slid from behind the wheel, and moved over to let Patrick take his place.

Cassandra and Sue had moved Sally's, Adam's, and Cassandra's bags into the kitchen, and placed them on the floor. Cassandra had taken special care to pack her sword, and unseen by Sally, Adam's much larger bastard sword into the golf bag she normally used to check her weapon. Adam looked at his coat worriedly for a moment, before Cassandra lifted it off the bed and tossed it forward to him, saying, "See me in Seacouver."

Adam nodded, then bent to pick up the golf bag. "This is heavy", he said, lifting the load.

"Yeah, but it works. I keep a case in there for the swords, of which I normally carry three, my regular one and two spares, just in case," She explained.

Adam nodded, and slinging the bag over one shoulder awkwardly, bent to lift his own duffel, which was lighter than usual when he was at an airport. He nodded, and said simply, "Thanks."

Sue had already opened the door and was lifting out Sally's case and heading for the terminal as a traffic officer started strolling over. "You'll have to move that thing, it's blocking access to the loading zone," He called.

Sue stopped, and turned to look at the RV behind her. Adam had already exited, as had Cassandra. Sally was the last one out, and she gently closed the door of the RV, as the coyote looked out after them, his tail wagging like he thought he was a dog.

"It'll be gone in a moment, just dropping some folks off. I hope it's ok if it stops in a while to pick me back up, I promise it won't take but a moment for me to get inside."

The officer shook his head and replied, "Double parking like that is illegal here, Miss. But considering that it would take five or six car lengths to park it legally, I'll let it slide this time. But you really shouldn't use an RV to drop off passengers, and you aren't supposed to board vehicles on this level at all. Next time, use a car, drop everyone off up here, and have them go downstairs to pick you back up, if you have to go in for some reason. You know you can't go to the departure gates any more, right?"

Sue nodded, and said, "I just want to make sure they get through security in time to make their flight, then I am heading home. We just returned from a long trip, and time is tight."

The officer grinned, and replied, "Then you'd better get moving, hadn't you?"

Sue turned, and saw that Sally, Cassandra, and Adam were all waiting for her in front of the doors into the terminal. With a grin, she answered the officer, "I suppose so. Thanks for making an exception for me. I promise we won't get in your hair again."

With that she turned to the terminal and followed the three travelers inside.

Cassandra made her way straight to the First Class check-in counter, waving for Sally, Adam, and Sue to follow her.

"Hello. Thanks for flying Alliance Airlines. Where are you four traveling this evening?" the girl at the counter asked with a plastic smile.

Cassandra returned a natural smile for it's forced counterpart, and replied, "Just three of us, actually, and Seacouver. Hopefully it won't be a problem, but only two of the tickets are really in First Class, but all three are in my name."

The airline employee's plastic smile slipped a bit at that, "I'm sorry Mam, but this counter is only for first class check-ins. Your other person will have to wait in that line over there," she said, pointing at the long line waiting for the other three attendants.

Cassandra looked at her, and asked, "I see. Will they be able to check in without me?"

The attendant shook her head, her smile back to it's sterile artificiality, "I'm afraid not, but I will have you checked in long before they can get to the front of the line."

Cassandra looked back at the line then asked, "And if I wait in that line, what are the odds of my making it on the Seacouver flight this evening?"

The attendant punched some keys on her computer, then looked back up, "I'm afraid not good, since once you get checked in, you still have to go through security, and that can take over half an hour, even at this time of night. Your flight boards in twenty minutes, and leaves in forty five."

Cassandra nodded her head. "Just to make sure, before I call my travel agent and raise a stink, Charles Waterman is still the CEO of Alliance?"

The plastic smile slipped again, as the woman nodded.

"Then you had better hope I can make it through that line and catch my flight after I check my two first class passengers here in, hadn't you Ms. Cunningham?" Cassandra said coldly, her own smile as extinct as the dinosaurs.

"Are you threatening me, Miss?" the attendant asked, her plastic smile vanishing and being replaced by an entirely neutral expression which looked every bit as false as the smile it had just replaced.

"No, I am not threatening a thing. But Charlie will hear from me if I miss my flight, of that you can be certain," Cassandra replied. "Especially if I miss it because one of his clerks was not doing her job."

The attendant just looked back coldly and replied, "I see. Well, I think I have had enough attitude from you, Miss. I am taking my break now." The plastic smile returned, as she added, "Have a nice evening. I think there is another flight to Seacouver leaving at 6 tomorrow morning, if it's not full."

Cassandra nodded, then made her way to the rear of the regular check in line, as the woman closed the First Class window and made her way through a door in the back of the counter area an disappeared. Sue watched as Cassandra calmly pulled out her cell phone, and placed a call.

"Hello, Samantha? Yes, It's me, Cassandra. No, I'm at the airport. Yes, I know what time it is. No, that's why I'm calling. Is Charlie there? Thanks. Hi Charlie. Good to hear from you as well. Sorry to disturb your breakfast. Yes, I'm sorry my call this morning to Samantha woke you up. No, that's part of why I called. What? No, I'm at LAX. Well, there are only three windows open. Yes, I know what time it is, but I am sure you have at least eight or nine people back there from what I could hear. No, I'm not sure, but I do know that if I don't get checked in right now I and my party will miss the flight. No, I don't want you to hold the flight, I know how much of a hassle that is. What then, I would like you to light a fire under your people's behinds. Especially one Miss Wanda Cunningham. No, Cunning, as in smart, but in her case, the ham must of canceled it. Yes. She was the attendant at the first class window, who decided to take a break instead of check me in after telling me I would have to miss my flight. That would be so kind. Thanks, Charles."

The smile was back as Cassandra hung up the phone. Sue looked at her and asked, "Did you just call the CEO of the airline, and ask him to chew out that bitch?"

Cassandra's grin widened, and she replied, "His wife is a friend of mine, and has been my travel agent since before they were married. She still books all my flights and most of my hotels. She was the one I called this morning, and I specifically asked her not to bump anyone from First Class just for me. She would have though. Charlie just offered to hold the whole plane for me. Such a sweet man."

Abut that time, attendants began to come pouring out of the back room, opening windows up and down the counter, until all but the First Class window was open. As the line started moving at a reasonable pace, Cassandra looked for a specific face, but failed to find it.

A few moments later, some older gentleman's head poked out, and he scanned the waiting line of people. Spotting Cassandra and her group at the end of the regular check in line, his head disappeared back through the door like a groundhog through his hole. He re-emerged several moments later, escorting Ms. Cunningham around from behind the counter, and past the waiting people to Cassandra and her waiting group.

"Mrs. Woods?" he asked, plaintively.

As Cassandra nodded, Ms. Cunningham's face went three shades paler, until it looked more appropriate for a corpse, or considering the painted appearance of her lips and eyes, perhaps a manikin.

"I'm George Hemming, third shift manager. We just got a conference call from the vice president of operations, and Mr. Waterman, our CEO. They were both quite imperative that you and your party make the eleven-ten flight to Seacouver." The gentleman explained.

Cassandra looked at him and nodded her head. "Yes?" she asked.

"Well, if you and your party would accompany me back to the First Class window, I'll check you in, and then escort you through security to the gate. For some reason Mr. Waterman was quite insistent that we don't have to hold the plane. He said that if you didn't make it for an on-time departure, that the explanation I am going to have to give on man-hour allocation and customer satisfaction would be the least of my concerns. While I am not exactly sure what that meant, I am rather certain that it is something I would rather avoid," the man replied, gesturing towards the vacant window.

Cassandra looked at him, then shook her head sadly, "I'm afraid that the woman working that window told me I had to wait in the regular line. I would hate to disobey an airline employee, and I am afraid I simply can't bring myself to skip ahead of all these other people unfairly, nor will I be willing to bypass the line for security. If your operation is being run so inefficiently that it takes more than an hour to get from the terminal door to the departure gate, then that is something that Charlie needs to know. If he doesn't, then he is doing a disservice to all his customers. They shouldn't have to come to the airport three hours before their flight just to wait in lines."

Mr. Hemming looked at his watch, then back at the line of customers still waiting in front of Cassandra, then over at the Security line as well. "I'm afraid I can't do much about the delay caused by the TSA. I can backdoor VIPs to bypass the line, but I can't make them move any faster than they do, they are a government agency, after all."

Cassandra nodded her head, and agreed, "Very well. I'll let you 'backdoor' me as you put it, but I will wait here like all the other passengers. Some of them might also be planning on taking that flight to Seacouver. I really would suggest you open the First Class window to general passengers, and try to clear out your backlog as fast as possible, then once that is done, your people can resume taking their breaks, but it would be a good idea for them to refrain from doing it all at once. I am afraid that after my phone call this evening, that Charlie will probably be taking a closer look at the way things are run here."

Mr. Hemming again looked at his watch, then headed back towards the First Class window, Ms. Cunningham following meekly in his wake. Once back behind the counter, he set Ms. Cunningham back to work at her own window, and proceeded to make his way up and down the line of attendants, swooping in to speed things along wherever they looked to be bogging down, and occasionally glancing at his watch.

It was only another fifteen minutes, twenty minutes before departure time, when Cassandra finally made it to the front of the line. Hemming, seeing her position, made his way to the attendant who was just finishing up a check-in, and waved her over personally, again glancing worriedly at his watch to check the time.

"Welcome to Alliance Airlines" the harried young man at the counter said as she approached, throwing a worried glance over his shoulder at the manager hovering behind him. "Where are you traveling this evening?"

Cassandra replied, "Seacouver. Three tickets, all in my name."

The young man's glance took in Sue, Adam, Sally, and Cassandra, and he asked, "Will there be four passengers? I think that flight is sold out."

Cassandra smiled back at him and replied, "No, just the three. Sue is just here to make sure we get off ok. She was worried about the time."

At that, Mr. Hemming flushed and looked at his watch again worriedly.

The young man proceeded to check Cassandra, Adam, and Sally in, and issued them boarding passes. As he took their bags, he commented, "I don't know if these will make it on the flight. Guaranteed baggage cutoff is thirty minutes before boarding, and that was over forty minutes ago.

Hemming broke in saying, "Don't worry Ms. Woods, they'll make it. I'll walk them over myself. I will personally guarantee that your bags will be on your flight."

Cassandra nodded at that, and taking her boarding pass, turned away to get in the line for Security.

Mr. Hemming ran around the counter and caught up with her before she had made it even a quarter of the way. "Here, let me walk you up to the checkpoint and ask them to backdoor you through."

Cassandra looked at her own watch, then at the line of people snaking out into the terminal, and finally acquiesced. "Ok. This one time." Looking over at Adam and Sally, she said, "Lets go people, we've got a plane to catch."

A look of relief spread across Hemming's face as he lead them past the waiting line of passengers and took them strait to an unoccupied security station. He waved at one of the TSA men who set down his coffee and came over, "Yeah, George?" the man asked.

"Sal, could you run these folks through VIP? They are trying to catch the eleven-ten to Seacouver," Hemming explained.

The TSA man looked at his own watch, then at the group of passengers, then at Hemming's desperate face. Seeing something there decided him, and he nodded. "Right this way folks," he said, gesturing towards another station.

Sue gave Sally, then Adam, then finally Cassandra a hug, then stood there watching them pass one at a time through the scanner.

She turned away from the security station for a moment and saw Hemming rushing back to the counter, probably to "personally" carry their bags to the plane. Somehow, she knew that he'd get them there. Not that it would do all that much damage control for his job. But it might be enough to save it. Depending on that manpower presentation he gave.

Sue waved again as Adam, Cassandra, and Sally headed away from the security checkpoint towards their gate, vanishing into the crowd beyond.

With a sigh, she turned away, and started to make her way past the ticket counters towards the entrance, so she could catch Patrick as he made his next pass through the airport.

It had been an exhausting day, with the pre-dawn start for the ceremony, through the long drive the rest of the way here to L.A., including the brief fight with the Vampires in Sunnydale.

She was looking forward to getting back to her house, and finally getting settled down in her own bed, and getting some much needed sleep.

Tomorrow would be soon enough to start worrying about what to do about the watchers, and Patrick, and that coyote which seemed to have adopted them.

As she was walking past the ticket counter, she felt the brush of another Quickening across her mind.

Looking around, she tried to spot the Immortal, hopefully before he spotted her.

Not seeing anyone looking, she tried to use one of Cassandra's tricks, closing her eyes and focusing on the feel of the Quickening, to identify the direction, and possibly distance it was from her.

She felt an odd twisting, apparently as it moved, and she was pretty sure it was getting stronger as well. Somewhere to her left, towards the doors. If she turned around, and headed back towards the security booths, she should be fine. She was feeling naked without her coat, and it's concealed katana. The plastic bowie knife under her blouse seemed little consolation.

It was definitely moving, and moving towards her. If the other Immortal hadn't sensed her yet, she was sure they would soon.

Opening her eyes, she started to turn away, when she spotted an older looking gentleman, his hair a stark white, yet his face relatively unlined, suddenly stop in his tracks and start looking around.

The man seemed to spot her immediately, and his face light with recognition. Sue however was sure she had never seen the man before in her life.

He waved at her and called out, "Julie!"

Sue hoped he was waving at someone behind her, as she turned and made her way back up the walk, towards the checkpoint and the stairs. She thought if she passed the checkpoint she might be able to get out on the other side of the terminal. It was either that or face some unknown Immortal.

Just as she was passing the checkpoint, preparing to dive into the crowd on the other side, a hand settled roughly on her shoulder. "Janet, stop," a harsh voice hissed, with a faint German accent.

The hand spun her around, to face the white haired man, a harsh expression now darkening his face. "You have changed, come into your legacy, I can feel it. You must come with me, and tell me how this happened."

Sue tried to wiggle free, the pain from her shoulder making her wince in agony. "Let me go, whoever you are. I don't want to fight you, especially not here."

The man laughed almost contemptuously as he replied, "Fight me, child, you couldn't fight a jewden. What makes you think you could ever fight me! You should know better. What ever tricks you may think you have learned in the last year, they are nothing to what I know. You would lose your pretty head in an instant, and that would be a waste, considering how much time and effort I put into creating it."

Sue pulled away from him again, finally breaking his grasp, and taking several steps back. "I don't know you, I've never seen you before in my life, and I have no idea what you are talking about. Just leave me alone. I just want to go home."

"Very well, Julie. We will go home. I still have your room for you, ya? You will not argue with me or make a scene, and we will go home now?"

Sue felt her heart skip a beat. Whoever this man was, he thought he knew her, and wanted to take her to his house. Apparently he expected her to meekly follow along, wherever he led. "Uh, no, I won't make a scene. I just want to go, ok?"

He nodded gravely, then replied, "Very well, you will walk in front. Slowly, back the way we came. We will go out side, and Buck will take us home, ok? I will get Myra's tickets later."

"Um, ok. I'll walk outside with you." Sue agreed, her eyes darting around. She could try to get the attention of the security guys, but considering the metal-detector proof knife she had strapped to her back, official intervention in a security conscious airport didn't seem the best idea at the moment. She would just have to play along, and see what happened.

"Go ahead, Julie. You remember Buck's car, yes?" the man said, roughly shoving her back, his hand almost brushing against the bowie's halter.

Sue started walking back the way she had come, keeping her eyes open for anything she could use to her advantage. Hoping against hope for a large luggage cart, or some other type of obstacle she could use to put some distance, and possibly confusion between herself and the mad man behind her so she could escape.

Before she knew it, the doors were coming up, and she was nudged outside by a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up and down the line of parked cars, hoping against hope to see the RV there, or even the friendly traffic cop, but there was nothing. Then she spotted it, moving in from the Loop, and pulling up to a stop with it's side door almost opposite her, on the other side of the line of waiting cars.

"Vhere eis he!" the man behind her hissed, "I tolt him to vait!"

Sue looked again, trying to find some way to distract him long enough for her to make the dash the few feet to the RV. She was sure Patrick had felt the other Immortal's quickening as he drove up, but she hadn't felt Patrick's, so she was equally sure the man behind her hadn't either.

An idea sprung to the front of her mind, and she suddenly pointed towards the back of the row of cars, as though spotting someone, "Isn't that him there? Perhaps the police made him move." Stepping out between the pair of cars which were sandwiched between the RV and the curb, as though to get a better, look, Sue pointed back and said, "That looks like him, doesn't it?"

The man behind her turned to look for himself, unconcerned she may try to escape with her path blocked securely by the cars to either side, and the white RV in front of her. As his eyes followed her hand down the line of cars, she took the chance, and leapt for the door, yanking on the latch, and dragging it open so hard the side banged into the back of the car on her right.

Leaping through the door and slamming it closed behind her, she yelled, "Patrick, get OUT of here!"

She was thrown against the side of the steps as Patrick hit the gas, the RV lurching forward. Through the side window, she could see the man leaping after her, and heard him bang off the rear of the RV as it pulled out into the airport traffic.

Sue climbed the steps, and made her way to the bedroom in the back, where she could see the man climbing to his feet and gesturing frantically at the departing RV, then reaching into his coat to pull out a cell phone and jab angrily at it's keys.

Sue lost sight of him as the RV swung on around the loop, heading towards the Aviation exit, and the 405 beyond.

Turning back towards the front, she came up and flopped into the passenger seat across from Patrick, taking an odd comfort from the bowie knife digging painfully into her back as her heart slowed it's frantic pace.

By the time they had made it up Aviation to make their right turn to catch the South-bound 405 towards Torrance, she was almost entirely recovered. Softly she told Patrick that Sally, Cassandra, and Adam were on their way on the flight to Seacouver, and how Cassandra's call to her travel agent managed to get them through on time. Then she told him about the encounter with the mad man in the terminal. "Thank god you showed up when you did! I don't know what would of happened if it had been his friend out there instead of you." Sue concluded.

"Heh, I was just orbiting like you told me, I saw you come out, and pulled in, thinking the timing was perfect. First thing I knew there was a problem was when I felt his Quickening as I was pulling up. I didn't think it was yours, or rather Eadgils's, 'cause it wasn't strong enough, and it was too strong for you, so I knew someone was around. And I could see he was kind of watching you, so I thought something might be up. I was trying to figure out if it would be better for me to get up and get out, or stay at the wheel, when you banged the door and yelled at me to go."

Sue smiled at him, as they pulled onto the freeway, and headed towards the Crenshaw exit a few miles away. "You did good, Patrick. Really good." She replied, proceeding to give him directions to her childhood home.

Neither one noticed the small black BMW following a few cars behind, even as they exited the freeway on Redondo, and headed towards the college, and Sue's house a few blocks beyond.

They didn't notice as it drove slowly past the branch into the cul-de-sac on Delia, stopping back on Cherry, where it still had a good view of the RV as it pulled to a stop in front of the driveway at the end, before the two story brown house, with the back yard fronting on the concrete riverbed. Sue's house, with the upstairs bedroom with it's sky blue walls, covered with posters, and the large tree growing just outside it's window in the back yard.

Neither of them noticed the bald headed young man talking excitedly into his cell phone as they climbed out of the RV, and Sue used her keys to finally open the door to the place she had been heading, ever since she first woke up after that rainy night in Georgia, a scant week before.

And neither of then noticed as the driver got out, then used a small digital camera to snap pictures illuminated only by the cloud hazed moon and the surrounding streetlights of the RV where it was parked in front of the house, the Geo on it's trailer behind it, or the two tired people making their way inside the darkened building. Neither one of them noticed a thing.

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Act 2 Afterward
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Hello readers.

When I started this story, nine odd months ago, I had a simple plot in mind. To show what happened when two distinct personalities got tossed into one head, and how the individual to whom that happened came to cope and adjust to the situation.

The venue for that plot was to be my protagonist's journey home, which was to take several weeks of time, and probably ten chapters of story. Yep, ten chapters. Something went very wrong with my plans. I know right when the story diverged from my original concept. Sue, or rather, Eadgils, was sitting in an Arby's, watching a rowdy bunch of kids at the counter. Then Patrick came along.

Some people said I kept killing poor Patrick for way too long. Perhaps. But it was only for four days. It just seems longer than that when you keep dying.

At this point, Sue has been Immortal for just a bit under a week. And I've passed the 110,000 word mark on the story. And those ten chapters? You just finished up chapter 26. And some of those 26 chapters were big enough that they ought to count double. Three of them, to be exact. So one could reasonably say I have gone three times as far as I had intended. And still have at least as much story left to write as I had planned to write in the first place. How so? By my current outline, the final special effects laden conclusion to the story, which is already written, by the way, is numbered as 33. It is followed by an epilogue, much as Chapter 1 was preceded by a prologue. I like logues apparently. In any case, assuming I can stick to that, then I should have a story of about 150,000 words, more or less. Certainly a good sized novel.

Plot wise, well, Sue has made it home already. Now what? Well, in the intervening months, I learned that even as the writer of the story my characters can surprise me. Patrick came entirely from left field. I had never intended for Sally to know about Sue being an Immortal. When she told Sue she knew that last night in the RV, I was probably more shocked than anyone. The guy in the airport was not as much of a surprise to me though. As you will see in Act 3, the seeds for it were planted way back in Chapter 1. Yes, that long ago. Granted, they took a long time to come to fruition, most villains make their appearance before the last third of a story. But in this case, Sue was not around for him to menace before now. Now that she finally is, he has a whole lot of catching up to do. Thus we come to the subtitle for Act 3. While it's working title has varied, from "LA Plot" to simply "Home", I think it's current incarnation, "Perils of Sue" is most apt. For that will be what most of act 3 consists of. Perils, of one sort or another, either from without, or from within, for Sue to survive or endure.

It will be a while before I can give it to you. I have yet to finish a single chapter, other than the actual last one, of Act 3. By my best guess, it will be some time near September, about one year from when I started this story, when it will be done. For now I leave you with the consolation that Sue is finally at home. Asleep, in her own bed.

I leave you with the image of her sleeping peacefully, in an upstairs room with sky blue walls, covered with boy-band posters from the 90's, along with various other posters and pictures of interest to the teenaged Sue who so decorated them. The air in the room has a slight damp fresh rain smell, and a faint sound of running water can barely be heard from outside.

A large tree sits vigil outside her window, swaying gently in the night time breeze, as a soft rain patters gently against the slightly open window. Rainwater rushes by in the riverbed behind her house, disappearing down the channel under the Camino College parking lot.

Patrick is asleep in one of the guest rooms somewhere, probably downstairs.

And in the living room, on the carpet before the fireplace, where a dimly glowing bed of coals marks the remnants of a once roaring fire, the coyote keeps a silent watch, his golden eyes seeming to glow in the near darkness. He knows what is coming. Ask the Indians, they can tell you. Coyote knows the future, and if he offers you a warning, you should follow it, or you will face the consequences. Coyote knows.

Dana Short, June 2004

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