Obfuscate

by Killion Slade

  Amicula continued to make a scene of herself as she plucked the blood-red rose petals from their stems and let them go. Amicula stuffed a couple of the flower petals in the tiny hands of the infant child the angel was holding. A gentle breeze caught the petals. They fell in a crimson flow cascading to the base of the statue.

  Cheyenne lunged at Amicula, but Khaldon held her back.

  “Why are you here? Feeling guilty? Haven’t you already done enough?” Cheyenne’s tone seethed with hatred.

  Family and friends stood dumbfounded in shock at this woman’s taunting behavior. Somewhere in the distance, Aisling heard the distinct cocking of a shotgun barrel. Montana folks didn’t take too kindly to outsiders, especially rude outsiders.

  The temperatures in the air had warmed just enough, allowing the icicles to drip their own tears of sadness, adding another layer mourning. Dried leaves scattered among the gravestones as a hush fell over everyone.

  Amicula stood in front of the statue and addressed the mourners in her Brazilian accent. “My friends. Today we gather in tribute for two beautiful daughters we shall never see again.” Amicula continued to pluck at the rose petals.

  “I wanted to express my deepest condolences to the O’Cuinn family as we have lost two valuable souls on so many levels. Dakota was a precious entity who was helping to bring balance back to a civilization that required her immense gifts. She will be sadly missed. And blessed little Teagan.” Amicula shook her head tsking at the loss. “Teagan had so much hope and promise for an eventful new life.” Amicula turned to look at the marble statue once again and then glinted her eyes directly into the grove of trees where Aisling stood. “We wouldn’t want to do anything to compromise the natural balance of things. Acceptance is needed now so we can brace ourselves for the coming neoteric world.”

  Khaldon interlaced his hand with Cheyenne’s. His eyes cast daggers at Amicula as if he wished her to incinerate on the spot.

  Aisling waited to learn if Khaldon would take action and hoped he wouldn’t respond to Amicula’s goading. She prayed none of them would reveal their true selves in front of the humans, as that would be a punishable supernatural crime. And with Amicula’s eyewitness account, she could distort the facts unfavorably, making the situation worse than it was.

  Plucking the last few remaining petals from the red roses, Amicula paraded toward Cheyenne and Sheridan and spoke in a hushed voice. With her hard plaster smile, Amicula stared at the sisters. “Her Majesty, Queen Civetateo, wanted me to express her deepest condolences and that we sincerely regret these unfortunate occurrences.”

  Khaldon squeezed Cheyenne’s shoulder and pulled her in closer to his chest.

  Cheyenne held fast and tight to Sheridan’s hand.

  Sheridan hissed her words. “How do you know our location?”

  Khaldon added, “Who tipped you off?”

  Amicula sneered her lips and dashed her eyes toward Khaldon. She raised her hands to the rest of the onlookers and cloaked her words for any human ears. “Why, I would think it would be obvious, my dear. Doesn’t it make sense that once you’ve become a breeder for her majesty’s court, that we’ll always know where you are?”

  Sheridan gasped and held a hand to her mouth.

  Cheyenne countered, “Why can’t you just leave us alone? You’ve got what you wanted, now leave.”

  “Oh, contrar, Miss O’Cuinn. We did not receive any return on our investment with you or your sisters. You may do wise to keep that consideration in the back of your minds.”

  Khaldon stepped forward. “Bloody hell, Ami. You do not belong here.”

  “Not an issue, my love, as I do not have plans for staying. But do know this: The court has a watchful eye on all of you.” Amicula reached and put her fingertips under Khai’s chin. “Especially, the wee one here.”

  Torchy slapped Amicula’s hand away. “You’ll nae be touchin’ the bairn. Best to heed the warnings. Leave us now.”

  Amicula retracted and took notice of the red claw marks where Torchy struck her. She returned the growling gesture from Cheyenne, Torchy, Khaldon, Harris, and Briggs, and must have taken it as an opportunity for an amicable retreat.

  Amicula studied the family with a stern grace. “None to worry. Soon you’ll be coming to me. Ta ta, for now.” She discarded the thorny stems at Sheridan’s feet.

  Sheridan spat on Amicula’s shoes. “Never!”

  Amicula looked down at her boots and then released the crowd from their enthrall. “Again, the queen sends her condolences.” She nodded her head and stared intently at the eyes of each person as she walked by as though she were daring them to lash out.

  * * *

  Thunder roiled and rumbled off the mountain walls and barreled through the meadow. Aisling turned her gaze skyward to see from which direction the storm was coming. Left in Amicula’s wake, the rose petals whisked in the wind, littering the snow like large drops of blood.

  As Amicula left the memorial and walked toward the pine trees, she turned and put her hand on Aisling’s trunk. “What a clever disguise you’ve made for yourself, dear. It’s going to be hell getting all that sap out of your hair, don’t you think?”

  Aisling didn’t say a word or acknowledge Amicula’s presence.

  “I wanted to remind you of the vampyric protocol of your office. If you decide to contact your family, we will have no choice but to destroy all of them.” She clucked her tongue. “What a pity. Such a waste. You wouldn’t want that, now would you? So I’ll see you back in the Amazon—soon? I believe Auntie is waiting for your return. You’ll want to travel along the energy vortex ley lines since you do not have a dragon companion for transport. I, on the other hand, have a few electronic manufacturers to see before I return. Please tell Auntie I should arrive by the end of the week. Give her my love.”

  Amicula turned and waltz toward the limousine and left as deftly as she had arrived.

  With the unwelcome visitor’s threat looming over her, Aisling watched helplessly as Sheridan sat on the rounded seat of the memorial statue and cried from Amicula’s words.

  Cheyenne searched the horizon. She cupped her ears, listening to something.

  Aisling held tight to the tree as the winds blustered, hurling leaves, petals, and broken twigs through the air.

  Against the sun-drenched blue sky, two UH60 Black Hawk helicopters flew overhead. Trailing below the Black Hawks barreled a military convoy with five tractor trailers, armed personnel carriers, and a tank draped in snow white camouflage netting. The trucks clamored over the cattle guard and turned onto the unpaved back road to the south side of the Flying F Ranch. Everyone stopped and stared at the unbelievable sight.

  “Well that’s my cue, folks.” Uncle Charlie tried to speak above the whomp whomp whomp of the helicopter blades.

  The immediacy of the mourning had altered with the reinstatement of the nuclear missiles. Many Montana landowners dealt with this situation, and there was nothing anyone could do about it other than to cooperate or have their land taken away.

  It wouldn’t be long until more missiles arrived.

  Friends and family paid their last respects to the O’Cuinns. Aisling observed her daughters and husband who stood a mere ten feet away. She ached to hold them and give them her love. She watched as her daughter kissed her granddaughter, carved into the marble statue, one more time.

  Sheridan placed her hand upon Dakota’s cheek immortalized in stone. One last tear of goodbye rolled down Sheridan’s face. “I will always love and cherish you both.”

  The winds picked up again and Sheridan searched the abandoned cemetery for any sign that the souls of her lost family members, including her mother’s, could be standing with her now. Aisling tried to disguise herself deeper into the tree, but Sheridan turned and stared directly at her.

  Aisling wondered if Sheridan might still have the sight as strong as when she was younger.

  Sheridan approached the tree, intently studying it.

  Aisling sucked in a
breath and desperately searched for a distraction.

  Her daughter advanced one step, two steps, and studied the branches and leaves making up Aisling’s disguise. Sheridan reached the tree and tried to converge with her mother’s energy as she did when she was a young child.

  Aisling conjured and called upon the elementals and a hauntingly beautiful child’s laugh and raised the winds once more. The winds blew wild as the clouds raced across the darkening sky. The snow fell once again in quarter-sized flakes obscuring Sheridan’s vision. She turned her head toward the laughter and chased it behind her tears.

  Sheridan dodged the snow from this tree and around that gravestone. She ran after the etheric child-like laughter. “Teagan? Teagan? Baby, is that you?” The young girl’s voice sing-songed around every corner as if to say, “Catch me if you can.”

  Aisling recoiled from needing to distract her daughter is such a way, but she hoped it would provide the confirmation Sheridan’s heart most desperately needed. That sign from above she was seeking prayer for.

  Breathing a sigh of relief, Aisling turned to make her way toward the energy portal. She needed to discuss the escalation of the US missile movement to the queen. To keep the idiot politicians from blowing up the planet, it would be time to enact the “power plan,” sooner rather than later.

  Aisling reflected on Amicula’s words:

  “Acceptance is needed now so we can move forward to brace ourselves for the coming neoteric world.”

  Brace ourselves, huh?

  Aisling had the peculiar feeling Amicula wasn’t just talking about vampires anymore.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Flying F Ranch

  Cheyenne O'Cuinn

  The guest house at the Flying F Ranch had been our home for the past couple months. Now that our family memorial service had honored and remembered those we lost, I hoped we might fly back to Florida soon. I was ready to rebuild, pick-up from where we were, and handle the packing up of Dakota’s room.

  After the exequies, we gathered back at the main ranch house for an early afternoon dinner. Aunt Maisie always made sure the table was filled to overflowing with delicacies. She and my Uncle Charlie had been running a vacation dude ranch in Montana for over thirty years, and they loved having guests from all over the world.

  No one was idle at the Flying F, not even the guests. If you stayed there, you worked there. It was a fair deal, but I longed to have lazy days where I could lounge around on the couch, in my jammies, instead of shoveling sidewalks and horse barns. It made the summer task of picking beans or shelling peas a desired event. With the world political news escalating into more panic and heightened alerts, I had the feeling those indulgent days of safety and leisure were quickly coming to a close.

  We circled the kitchen table trying to understand the morning’s events. I was still reeling in shock that we saw a caravan with a missile drive onto the property.

  Uncle Charlie kicked off his boots and set them by the hearth to dry. “The Lt. Base Commander at Malmstrom Air Force Base in Great Falls called me yesterday saying there might be some activity in that old missile silo on the south eighty. Last time they were out here, I had to string up an electric fence to keep lookie-loos and war-haters away. I don’t want those silos on my land any more than the next guy, but I don’t need people getting shot trying to break in.”

  Harris lifted the lid of the chili pot and breathed in a big whiff of the spicy soup. “I’ve never seen somethin’ like that before. Is the government reactivating nuclear missiles? Didn’t they sell off the silos to end-of-the-world lovin’ preppers?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with preppers.” I put my hands on my hips and made sure my tone of voice was one that was heard. “They believe in self-sufficiency and not being dependent on anyone for anything. They’re smart for planning ahead.”

  Aunt Maisie smacked Harris’ hand from the chili pot and handed him a stack of plates to set the table with instead of snitching before the meal. Harris kissed Aunt Maisie on the cheek and said, “Maybe so, but I saw a show once where this couple turned their silo into a hippie commune.” He put the plates on the counter and took out a glass, filling it with water. “They sat around singin’ ‘Puff the Magic Dragon’ or something weird.”

  Both Torchy and Briggs laughed out loud, and I couldn’t resist a little chuckle myself.

  Uncle Charlie shrugged and shook his head, seemingly resigned to be able to do anything about the silo activity. “You never know what the air base is doing, and there’s nothing you can do to stop them. It’s been years since we’ve seen any activity, but we’ve always given them a wide berth when they’re here. Mason and I are going to run the fence lines this afternoon to make sure the cattle aren’t attacked by aliens or anything. Hey—ya never know, this could be the next Area 51.” He winked at Aunt Maisie.

  I peeked in the oven at the cornbread. “Ya know, Sher, I could set PADME to monitor what’s going on in the local area, and she can inform us if there are any changes.

  I mind messaged to the non-humans in the room, “PADME has been quite forthcoming with information about recent abductions not too far from here—over by Swift Dam, a few hours north. We think there is a breeding den close by. Plus, she has found significant information about shipments we think are coming from the North Sentinel Island.”

  Khaldon, Briggs, Torchy, and Harris all turned and looked at me at the same time. It was amazing at how cool these guys were with mind-messaging, but able to keep it a secret. Not a human in the room knew what was what. I did catch Aunt Maisie staring at me with a small smile. I winked back at her. I needed to get to know her better as there seemed to be something more to her than she ever let on.

  Hmmmm.

  Harris interlaced his hands and turned them inside out. “Wicked. Chey, let’s hack into the satellite grid and probe for activity on the global missile positioning systems.” He cracked his knuckles readying himself for an all-night programming session. “It’ll be just like when we hacked into the Emergency Broadcast System and sent out those zombie apocalypse messages out over the television and radio stations.”

  “Who is PADME?” Uncle Charlie took off his cowboy hat and hung it on a hook by the door.

  “It’s a holographic program I created called PADME. My Personal Automated Domicile Management Executive. I can set her to monitor any kind of data activity and have her report it. At home in Orlando, she maintains all the alarm security, phone and Internet access, electronic functions, temperature settings, and pretty much anything I want to give her.”

  “Holographic?” Aunt Maisie furrowed her brow. “Like a ghost or somethin’?”

  Sheridan squeezed our aunt’s shoulder giving her a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Auntie, it’s not quite like that. Plus, we don’t have the projection cameras to illuminate PADME’s holographic body program. Think of it like a really smart computer who can remember to do the things you’ve asked it to without you having to remind it.”

  Harris slid the plates and bowls across the table. “Even though we don’t have her projection cameras, we do have her base server program. I can set her to watch the news, track satellite movements, and scan headlines for any increases in missile movement around here.”

  “Damn, that’s something I gotta see.” Mason Jones, the ranch foreman, snitched a roll from the bread basket and popped it into his mouth. He grimaced when he’d seen he’d been caught and must’ve known what was coming.

  Aunt Maisie smacked the back of his hand with her wooden spoon. “Wait n’til supper’s ready. Eat, eat, eat … that’s all you boys do around here.”

  “Well, Maisie, it’s all that good cooking. We can’t resist ourselves. I don’t know about all this PADME stuff, but whatever you kids think you need to do.” Uncle Charlie pointed to the where the trucks turned. “What I do know is—we have to clear out old tumbleweeds from around the silo perimeter fence lines. Any of you city slickers wanna join us?”

  “Not me.” I shook my
head but smiled at my uncle, asking forgiveness. “I want to get ready for the Race Across the Sky Dance tonight. Khaldon promised me two weeks ago he’d take me.” I winked at Khaldon and widened my eyes at him, daring him to use fence mending as an excuse to get out of dancing.

  Even though he had told me he would be here for the memorial service, I half-way didn’t believe it would happen. It seemed as though the time apart helped us both immensely. Khaldon seemed just as excited to move forward with our life as I was. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. Whoever “they” are, they were right. I wasn’t crazy about testing the theory, but it did give me time to realize just how important he was to me. And that I did want him in my daily life ... again.

  “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, m’lady.” He gestured in a waist-deep bow toward me.

  Harris seemed all over the idea. “Sure. How many silos do you have? Can I drive the tractor? Does it have cool levers and stuff to make the bucket go up and down? Or those huge prongs to skewer hay bales?”

  Uncle Charlie chuckled. “Woah there, cowboy. We’ve got three silos on the ranch. Two to the south side and one further along the northern perimeter.” He glanced from side to side, looking for Maisie. When he thought the coast was clear, he snitched a finger scoop of mashed potatoes.

  Aunt Maisie turned the corner and popped him with a dish towel. “Get! All of you, get!”

  Everyone laughed while the guys scooted away with their lives from the vicious, champion towel popper.

  “Oui! Give dze chef ’er kitchen.” Backing her up, Briggs stood behind her with a rolling pin in his hands.

  She nodded to him indicating their intimidation was successful, and she winked at him.

  I bet they become cooking buddies for life.

  “Guess I’ll start baking again for those poor military folks stuck in those dreary holes.” Aunt Maisie pulled out a For the Love of Baking Cookbook from her top shelf and instantly held Briggs’ attention. “I just can’t imagine living and working underground like that day after day and not seeing the sun. Would drive me bonkers.”