A little piece of action
|Julian Mack stood on the pine straw and looked at the school from his hidden spot. He arrived an hour early and spent the time observing. He was told that this was the spot where the Veil was weakest but if it were, there should be guards protecting it. No, all he saw where teenagers and a few teachers taking advantage of a warm Adirondack spring morning.
He closed his eyes and inhaled. He loved the smell of evergreens and other trees. It connected him to nature, something that his job has taken away from him in the past 20 years.
He felt the sun on his face as it filtered in through the leaves. As a child, he would go to Schoharie county, to the farms his Mohawk family would own, and play in the fields, dodging the cow droppings, chasing cousins he now missed. He opened his eyes when the warmth the sun had brought left.
The clouds were dark, storm bringers he thought. But when he smelled no rain, he wondered what these were. He looked around and noticed that several more students were quickly exiting the school, followed by teachers and staff. Mack, with instincts honed by years of investigating magical crimes, rushed forward. He grabbed a young man and questioned him.
“There’s a dragon loose,” Mack received as an answer. He still ran forward.
Mack was grabbed by an older man, “Who are you?” a teacher asked. He tried to break from the grip, but the educator was strong.
“I ask again. Who are you?”
Mack looked into the man’s eyes and saw something, an instant of actual inquiry. “A concerned man,” the investigator said.
“Then go, help.”
Mack went to thank the older man, but a blast of ice-cold air hit him in the chest, sent him airborne. He landed on the same straw he once stood on and slid to a stop against a large pine tree, the sap touching his neck.
“What the hell?” Mack looked towards the school and saw an ice blue creature crash through the façade. He had been warned: mythical creatures exist behind the Veil. He did not want to believe it, but now his eyes witnessed the truth.
He grabbed his for his Colt M1911s and checked to see if the magazines were full. They were.
“Do you think they’ll be useful?” he heard a female voice asked.
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but it can’t hurt,” the investigator answered. He stood and readied himself to defend himself.
Julian Mack took a step.
And it was the last thing he remembered.
“What, where am I?”
Mack pushed off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. He heard a door open.
“Good to see you awake,” a female voice spoke. Soft and soothing, he knew it had to be a nurse.
“Where am I?”
“Glens Falls hospital,” she answered. She put her hands on his shoulders and gently pushed him back. “You had a nasty fall. Thank God some lumberjacks found you before the night came.”
He looked at the woman, an olive-skinned beauty like his Mohawk cousins, and smiled. “Man, I had one wicked dream,” he began, but drifted back to sleep.