Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves by Richard M. Heredia Read Free Book Online Page A

for the first
time.
    Marissa clicked the roof
of her mouth with her tongue. “You got that right.”
    Christine’s lips stretched
taut with a grim smirk, though her eyes continued to glance about.
“Where are we?” she asked after a time.
    “ Your guess is as good as
mine,” began the 3rd grader. “I think we’re underground,
though.”
    Christine turned toward
her. “What makes you say that?”
    Marissa shrugged. “It
smells like we are.”
    “ Hmmm,” said the other
considering her words. She breathed in the air out of habit,
resuming her inspection. “I think you’re right.” Her hands came to
her hips. “We’re in some kind of tunnel.”
    “ Yeah, I think
so.”
    “ And, you have no clue
where we might be?”
    Marissa shook her head.
“Naw.”
    Christine trembled with a
new thought. “You wouldn’t happen to know why we’re here, would
you?”
    The nine-year-old
meandered back toward the concrete wall. Near to where the
quasi-provisions the man-thing had brought with him. She leaned
against the barrier, sliding down with care until she was sitting
once more. “I don’t know,” she replied, her fingers formed a
steeple before her face, arms resting on her knees.
    The teen sighed, weaving
her way toward the girl. She decided to sit cross-legged on the
ground, across the pile of boxes and cans and plastic containers.
With alacrity, she wiped away the tears forming at the corners of
her eyes.
    “ You okay?” asked Marissa,
her gentle, caring nature embedded too deep to suppress.
    Christine turned her
Asiatic orbs toward her, brushing her hair behind her ears. Another
tear escaped and fell into her lap. “No,” was all she managed
before she broke into tears once again.
    Without another word, the
tiny, 3rd grader pushed aside the “food” barring the way to
encircle her arms about the young woman.
    They remained that way for
quite some time.
    When they parted some time
later, Christine asked: “What should we do now?”
    Marissa wasted no time.
“We should eat.”
    “ Why? I’m not even all
that hungry.”
    “ Trust me,” said Marissa.
Her eyes were haunted when they met those of the teen.
     
    ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~
     
    ~ 3 ~
     
    Questions
     
    Friday, November
26 th ,
the Day after Thanksgiving, 2:47 pm…
     
    “ What do you think
happened to him?” asked the dark-complected, dark-eyed
teen.
    He was slender, though
muscled from many hours in the gym. He was not particularly
athletic or sports-inclined. Rather, he liked to work out to look
good for the girls. He had wavy, shoulder-length hair, parted in
the middle. His large forehead, wide-spaced eyes and puffy cheeks
were typical Guatemalan features. He dressed like any
neo-punk-rocker of the twenty-first century. He had on torn black
jeans (faded) and a t-shirt bearing the name of one of his favorite
bands. His shoes were double-souled, black leather Doc Martins,
splotched with white paint.
    “ I have the faintest idea,
man,” replied the large teen, sitting on the other end of the
bench.
    Richard Fernandez glanced
over at his friend, Daniel Florentine, shaking his head. He was
miffed at the dude, because he had not even looked up from his cell
phone. He’s definitely texting Mariah
again, he thought. I swear to God this lug-nut obsesses over the girl! As always, his thoughts bounced toward those of
his girlfriend as well. The memory of her well-made body in his
arms warmed him for a second or two. Memories of her were some of
his favorites, filled with long kisses and hands full of her firm
flesh.
    Richard considered himself
lucky to be dating someone like Melanie Dean. She did not resemble
any of the girls he had gone out with in the past. First off, she
was not from Latin America. In fact, her heritage had roots in some
long forgotten European country, nowhere near those ones south of
the border of the U.S.
    Though his mother might
look at him funny over the top of her reading glasses when she saw
the two of them together,