Iglesia ……………………………………… Episode 37

(Iglesia is a serialized novel, published on Tuesdays and Saturdays at midnight ET, you can read all of the episodes by clicking on the tag.)

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The corridor is quiet. None of them make much sound as they walk. They are alert. Rogers demeanor obviously indicates danger and they are all trained professionals. Attempts at questions or conversation are met by Rogers hands upraised in a shushing motion and it is apparent that he is stretching his senses down the corridor….listening for something? Abe could swear that Rogers’s ears have changed shape again, he is listening so hard. What’s worse is that he realizes that HE is now straining to change the shape of his ears, to try to listen harder….and what is even worse than that….is it feels like it is working!

He is about to reach up and check when Rogers raises his hand again.

Iglesia’s mind starts to wander, as it always does…while they are walking down the corridor. Her surface thoughts are on Paul, and her home. But the rest of her being is paying rapt attention to Rogers and every sound she can hear coming down the corridor. Which is exactly ….none. Then Rogers raises his hand again.

And they stop…and then Rogers walks quickly forward and opens one of the hundreds of hatch-like doors that they have passed on their walk. Through the door is a  tree lined country lane in some sunny locale, France maybe, or Spain from the looks of it….with fields of wheat on both sides of it and rustic wooden trestle fences lining its length. Which appears to run straight and true all the way to the horizon.

“I will be very happy to answer all of your questions just as soon as we have completed some very necessary evasive maneuvering. Much of which you will not understand and some of which you will find quite annoying. I beg of you to allow me to assure you that every single thing I ask of you is vitally important.”

“To begin with, please walk down this lane at a normal pace and to the very end of its length. Do NOT turn off. Do NOT speak. Do NOT interact with, er, anyone you happen to encounter. Do nothing but walk straight ahead….no matter what may happen….until you have reached the end, where I shall be waiting for you…I would suppose.”

Iglesia glares and steps through, and begins walking down the lane, hurrying a little, keyed up on adrenaline and feeling sort of mentally cramped from all this, well, bullshit. The walk down the service corridor had been long and boring. This was at least different, and the sun felt good and soon….she was thinking of Paul again.

Until she sees the figure walking towards her at a distance. Apparently the man…a tall man, has seen her too.

His hand shoots to his hip just as hers does, incredibly quickly and instinctively. She can see the disappointment in his body language and assumes that he, like her, found nothing to draw. His hand is empty as it leaves his hip. This makes it much easier to overcome her instincts and obey her instructions instead of vaulting the fence to take cover. But it is still hard, after all that has happened to her and all of the adrenaline she is running, and being….here, to just walk forward towards the approaching stranger. So she saunters instead…or swaggers, she always gets those two mixed up. He IS tall, and coffee colored, and athletic…and pretty hot looking, as she gets close enough to tell, green eyes, nice.

By unspoken agreement, and after a little shuffling and feinting he is walking down the west side of the road and she the east. Their eyes are now locked. She is …..to be honest, afraid of him. She can tell he has had training, both by the way he walks and the look in his eye. She is not sure she could take him, which is pretty darn rare. He looks like he is dying to say something and she has to remind herself to not to crack wise. She may hate Rogers and his stupid accent and smirk, but hey, she is a pro and she is here for a reason. Maybe not Rogers reason, but a reason, and she is NOT going to fuck this gig up on her first shot out of the gate. As he gets closer and closer, she starts to feel…. odd. It is like there is an electrical charge, a polarity between them…separating them.

They are as far apart from each other as they can get and still be on the road. She is projecting an aura of effortless cool. In fact she is projecting an aura of effortless cool so intensely that she is almost sweating. He seems to be projecting an aura of quiet lethality. That’s hot too. Where their auras meet, in the middle of the road, it feels like tiny sparks of lightning are dancing between them.

He is just going to walk right by her, it looks like…and not say a word.  

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    • RiaD on March 2, 2008 at 06:34

    chrissie hynde is singing in my head now (^.^)

    ver ver fine~ Great solution to the service corridor dilemma…. i DO hope there is a substantial tea set up at the end of this journey/trial so that they can come to terms and agree to continue as cohorts…

    and quit letting them walk by buhdy! say ‘hey! how are ya?’ maybe those sparks’ll kindle into a fire.

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