Trip = The GM Carl = Joe Earl = Lan Chrisber = Howard Jeremy = Grouper Kudos to the players and the GM and the usual disclaimer about not everything in the game being here and not everything in here being in the game. It was fun playing it. Phyllis -------- Well, like... It was summer, you know, and Joe came home, so his buds went out drinkin' like they always do, so I snuck inta the back of the truck. I hid under the tarp they'd put over the four cases of beer. Howard was back there, and so busy with something he was peering at wit' his glasses that he never sees me, easier 'n easy. Lan was up in the front seat, or I'da never tried it. Joe was ridin' shotgun and Grouper drove like the maniac he always was and we headed out into the fields. Waist high wheat... smells like summer ta me. Grouper made a big noise when they pulled the tarp up. Joe just snorted. Lan... I like ta think he smiled, but I can't usually tell wit' him. But he's the one that gave me a can, already popped and lay, kinda quiet like, next to me in the wheat and watched the sun go down while Grouper was doing stupid drunk tricks, like shakin' up a beer and sprayin' it all over me. Grouper's always makin' like every girl in town's like his doormat or somethin' and it just makes me sick that they all fall for him and his stupid cars, black hair and perfect smile. Joe likes him, though, so I give him as much shit as everyone else Joe likes. I shook my beer up and let loose all over Grouper. Lan suddenly sat bolt upright. A brilliant light bloomed over Town. I glanced at Lan and saw just how clear, brilliant green his eyes were. I shook my head, wonderin' if the beer was affecting me more than I wanted it to, as I got real sleepy. Then there was the roar of motorcycles and the sound of gunshots. I went as quickly as I could into the back of the pickup, while everyone else piled in. Joe hauled me in the last few feet, dumping me into the tarp, and I thought it was really comfortable and snuggled in for a nap as we hauled truck back into town. Nap time. Later I thought it was weird, but might have been the beer. Woke up to the boys' swearin'. There were people fallen, everywhere, on the sidewalks. It was like they'd just dropped where they stood. Howard pointed out that we really should go to the police station to tell them about what we saw, but right outside the station was the county police officer, lying on the sidewalk. The guys checked him out and he was just asleep, so Grouper pours a beer on him, and he woke up and started sputtering at us about stupid kids. Joe tried to tell him what had happened and the guy just laughed. Other adults all over the place started waking up, kinda puzzled about why they'd gone to sleep. There were black tire tracks all us kids could see all over the road. But Officer Brown hadn't a clue, and none of the other adults could see 'em either. Mrs. Olsen then started screaming about her little David missin'. That's when Joe and I looked at each other and sprinted for home. The other guys went in other directions, Grouper peeling off in a stacka smoke. Tracy, Andy, and Celia were all missing from their beds. Ma was so happy to see us, she near strangled Joe huggin' him. She looked haunted, and when we heard Grouper's truck out front, she just kinda nodded when we went into the gun room. "Bring 'em back, Joe." she said, quietly. Joe just nodded and headed out. He'd always been the man of the family since Dad left. One of the reasons he'd been so ready to go ta college when he got the chance and why, I think, he came back. I don't think Joe woulda ever failed at anything he really wanted ta do. There were a loada shotguns in the backa the truck with shells galore, and we were off, following the trail of the black tire tracks. The 19 was smooth goin' for a while, the familiar route down to L.A. and then it started getting steeper and windy. Windy. I looked up from the mass of black tracks and we were heading for mountains. Mountains that weren't there in the high desert, on a road that shouldn't've headed in this direction, following tracks that no adult could see. It mad a strange kind of sense. It was wierd, but no one really commented on it or even thought about turning back. It just was what was supposed to be. Kinda like when I was with the circus and all kinds of weird shit was happening all around me, but it was okay, 'cause everyone else treated as if they were just the everyday kindsa things that no one should have a cow 'bout. Made me wonder, just a bit, what everyday things looked like ta someone that'd never seen 'em. Mountains, big jagged peaks all around us, and the air started to get thinnish, still summer warm. Lights appeared before us. A single set of headlights, not the motorcycles, and our headlights picked out a panelled truck rumblin' slow aheada us. A few turns later and there was another set of headlights behind us. Something big and fast and as smooth as Grouper's introductions. It passed us, a big, black stretch limo. Howard muttered something under his breath as it passed. He peered owlishly through his glasses as we then caught up to the truck. The night shadows of the mountains loomed close and then closer as we entered a cut between the peaks. I thought the truck wuz buckin' us off, when there wassa a rumble and a roar and and one of the big shadows broke off a jagged slice of itself and slid down. I grabbed holda whatever I could. One thing Grouper kin do is drive. He stopped that pickup neater 'en neat, and when we saw figures, shinin' with metal edges an' leather, scuttlin' down the mountain sides, and popping ordinance at us, he slamed that puppy into reverse an' took the pickup around the last bend we went around. Lan an' I got two shots in afore we were under cover and saw 'em fall. Got an interestin' look from him. But he didn't say nothin', like usual. Lan kinda disappered, when Grouper parked the truck. I jus' took the shotgun with me and headed, kinda cautious, up the backside o' the hill. One thing I noticed, though, when I got out of the truck, that the mass of black tracks left by the motorcycles was cut across by four truck tire tracks in white. I blinked twice when I saw that the white tracks all ended under the tires of Grouper's truck. Everyone else went up the hill. Grouper runnin'. I shrugged and followed. I moved faster when I saw that there were a buncha guys around the cab of the panel truck really thrashin' one person. Grouper did some kamakazi run-scream fire thing down the hill. Joe and I provided some cover with our stuff as we went down the hill. There was no cover on the hillside, and I felt really exposed out there. The critters looked really weird, wtih goggles and spiked helmets and all black leather and shouting in some weird language. Howard said it was Latin. But I didn't want to get left behind and they were kickin' the guy they already had out of the truck. Grouper managed to keep his alive. We got a couple of 'em, the rest ran away. As I moved closer, I could see the guy that Grouper had was... well.. even after the circus, this guy was really wierd. He had a really gaunt face, and the goggles looked like they were fused to his face. The one spike helmet was nearly a part of his head. He wouldn't say nothin', either. As we watched him, he just got greyer and greyer and looked deader and deader until he just kinda sighed one last breath and started crumbling with this really gross smell. The panel truck was still standing there. A guy was lying next to it, unconscious. Not knowing if the creeps were gonna come back, we loaded the guy into his truck, Lan and I took it, and Joe, Grouper, and Howard took the pickup. The pickup picked a way around the slide and we were able to get back on the road and get back to following those tracks. I did some first aid on the truck driver. He was an oldish guy, kinda outta shape, white hair, and chubby cheeks made him look kinda sad and silly. I was really glad we went back to help him insteada just drivin' back to town. He was in really bad shape. I stopped a lot of the external bleeding, splinted up an arm, and then tried to make his body at least *look* comfortable in the seat of the truck. I looked up when Lan started slowing the truck. Suddenly, we rounded a bend and there were city lights glittering, bright and colorful agains the darkness. The skyline was just all wrong for LA. Grouper was flashed his lights at us. We all stopped. The driver dude groaned a bit. Lan slide an arm under his shoulders, another under his legs and just lifted him right out. He saw me staring at him and shrugged. We propped him up against one of the tires of the truck, and while everyone else gathered around him, I kinda wandered around the truck to take a look at it. It seemed like a normal panel truck, but I'd noticed that, inside, there wasn't the normal slider window to see what was in the carago area. When I checked out the back door, there were all kinds of marks around the lock to the door. Marks that looked like they were made by shotguns and burn marks and marks that looked like high powered rifle as well. Under my flashlight, the lock glittered brightly, totally whole. The license plate had some weird symbols on it as well. I went back around and saw Howard kneeling in front of the truck driver watching as the guy drank something that glowed green in the night. The guy whooped and hollared when it went down and I coulda swore that steam came from his ears. What was stranger yet was, after the whoop and hollar, he straightened up as the color came back into his face and he used the arm that I coulda swore was broke in three places to brush out his coat and shirt. Whatever the stuff was, it was mighty potent. Grouper was tellin' him that they'd had to stuff him back into the truck in order to get away from the helmet guys. The trucker guy laughed and said, "Oh, THEY don't drive anything." Joe said, "Well, somethin' drives black motorcycles." The guy frowned. "They're the Black Queen's Riders." "Would the Black Queen be someone that would steal children on a summer's night?" The old guy looked a little older for a moment and then nodded. "Yes. She would and probably have some terrible use for them." Grouper cut in, "Where can we find her?" The guy nodded towards the city, "In the middle of the City, in the tallest tower." He thought a moment and then said, "You know you'll have to return them to your land before the breaking of the dawn, or else anyone left here will be trapped here forever." Joe quirked a grin, "We guessed, but it's good to know." He sighed, looking at the glittering City. "How do we get in?" "I'll let you in through the Gates, and take you as far as I can until I have to drop off my cargo." "What is your cargo?" asked Howard, quietly. The guy just looked at him and shrugged, "It's not mine to tell. I do thank you for your help but..." he shrugged again. "Can we have the rest of that potion?" asked Howard. The guy nodded and handed Howard the flask. Howard tucked it away carefully. "Here is my card, in case you run into other problems, please do call me at any time." He handed Joe a card that I peeked around Joe to see. It had everything in fancy, curlyque script and a phone number on it that was different than any phone number I'd ever seen afore. Weird spacing between the numbers and a completely differnet number of numbers on it. The guy's title on the card was Automoblist, as if simply having or driving an automobile was important. We all piled into the pickup, and followed the lights of the panel truck towards the City. The black tracks were all headed in the same direction and thicker now than ever before... the road was nearly black with them. As we drew closer, the walls around the City grew more and more visible, tall, taller and then tall enough to look completely insurmountable. At the Gate were guards, that the Montebank spoke to at length. We all eyed the guards a little nervously, as they eyed us back. Eventually, though, they simply waved us both through. The black tracks were thick on the ground through the gate. As we went into the City, the tracks were thickest in the direction that the montebank was travelling, so we simply followed him further. A few of the tracks, though, started going in different directions, some crossing the main group of tracks. 'Ventually, we were in a warehouse district, and the montebank flashed all his lights at us, once, before he turned into a particularly brightly light warehouse compound, swarming with people. I saw an arm wave from the window as we drove past under watchful eyes. I still wonder what it was he was carrying. "Highest tower, highest tower," muttered Grouper as he drove. We headed into the heart of downtown, looking up at the towers like the high desert hicks we were. Sandy, the snake lady, had always commented on how I threw my head back, whenever the circus had entered a new, true city, and liked looking up and up and up at the things people had built. "You gonna break your neck doin' that." she'd always said. I'd always retorted, "Better that than dyin' after never lookin' up to a dream." She'd always laughed. I still don't know if she ever understood the answer or if she said that just to rile me. So I looked up. After a while, though, I looked at the others in the truck with me and shook my head. "I don't see no highest tower." There were slow nods around me. We looked down, then, and the black tracks were everywhere, now going in all directions, as if the riders of the motorcycles were everywhere, here. I looked behind us and our track shone clear and sharp and white over the blackness. "Look at that!" Grouper hissed and pointed his chin. There were... female on the street corner, wearing nothin' that hid anything callin' at the guys. The really weird thing, though was that from the peroxide blonde and bleedin' red locks of over permed hair were horns, cute, tightly curled, and very hard looking horns. We all blinked and kinda did double takes on the people that thronged through the night life of these city streets. There were Creatures that I'd only thought were in books, unicorns, dragons snaking through the crowd, people too slender for even a modelling job, men too tall to fit under a basketball hoop, and there paced beings that were a strange mix of human and animal. A bag lady with a ratty old shawls turned to look at us and her eyes glowed for a moment, like a cat's, and when the flash went by, I saw her fur and odd shape of her face in profile. "Grouper, I think we'd better ask for directions." I said. The entire truck-load of males thought about protest for a single moment, then Grouper headed for a gas station/mini-mart. Grouper chatted up the attendent and then asked, "How do we get to the Black Queen's tower?" The guy got that look on his face, nearly exactly like Grouper does when he's asked for directions at the gas station he's always workin' at, and the guy pointed at a road, "Head out along that road 'til you get to a cemetary. Go diesel around the cemetary, and then you'll get to the river. Cross the river and you'll be there." "Hey, thanks, man." said Grouper. "No prob." We headed along the way the guy pointed. The crowds grew thinner, the towers fewer, and then there was a section of darkness along the road. It was the cemetary. There were two ways we could to, to the right or to the left. I heard Grouper muttering the directions the attendent had given us. "Diesel? What did he mean go diesel? We're a gas truck." asked Joe. Howard suddenly spoke up, "We go clockwise around the cemetary. He meant d-e-a-s-i-l, the direction, not d-e-i-s-e-l, the fuel type." We all looked at him. He back at us, calmly. "Going counterclockwise is going widdershins." Grouper turned left. We went around the cemetary and came to a broad, dark river that shone with lights. We crossed the bridge and looked around. There were all kinds of towers before us, none right there at the river bank, so we went on towards the towers. None of them, however, were particularly taller than the others. So we headed back towards the river. The weirdest thing, though, was that the landmarks and things that we remembered going into the city weren't there or had moved when we headed back out. When we were back at the river, Lan suddenly motioned at us, and pointed into the river. From the river shone the reflection of a single tall black tower. We looked around. There was a small road that led down into the river, or so it looked, at first. When we followed it, we found that it lead under the bridge to a tunnel. In the tunnel was... well... a Troll. A HUGE guy with lots of warts and build to broad and so big he had a stick as big as the beam we put up for our barn's roof in one hand. He blinked huge eyes at us and ponderously rose to his feet and started to raise that huge club. Joe stepped up and showed the Troll a case of beer. Those big grey eyes lighted up. The Big Stick was laid gently on the floor. Huge fingers tore open the carton and tossed a can into the gaping mouth. There was a pop and a fizzing sound and the big guy grinned a grin with a gap so big he probably could have put a beer between his teeth. As frightening as the expression was it was also unmistakably happy. Grouper took the opportunity to lay rubber. The road went down. We whizzed down through the tunnel, the walls close in the darkness. And then, suddenly, it opened up into a big, concrete garage, like any garage for any skyscraper, it was big, concrete grey, with adequate lighting. Unlike any normal skyscraper garage, there were hundreds and hundreds of motorcycles parked in neat rows. There was also a long, black, stretch limo parked before the elevators. Grouper wanted to scrag the motorcycles right there and then. Lan stopped him while Joe explained, quietly, "If we touch the motorcycles, now, there will be a hundred Black Riders on our butts. We haven't found the kids, yet. And we're not going to if there are a hundred Riders trying to kill us. Do you get it?" Grouper finally nodded, and Lan let him go. We walked up to the elevators. "Well, if it's anything like the rest of this crazy sckeme," said Joe, "I should push this..." He pushed the button to go down. The button lit up and the elevator hummed quietly and then the door opened. We stepped in and Joe pushed the button for the bottom floor, the one labeled Penthouse. The ride was very, very quiet. When the doors opened, there was the scent of flowers. When we walked out we were on the roof of what should have been an immensely tall building looking down on the City we had wandered in three different ways. The night sky was above, clear and brilliant with the light of the full moon. Slowly, we got out of the elevator. There was a path that seemed to circle the roof. We went around it deasil and it remained nothing but a garden at night. Again, and it remained the same. They started off a third time. I sighed and ran off widdershins. This time when I got around, part of the garden was netted. I stopped to look at it, and heard the others behind me. I went around again, and this time stopped and let the others get back in front of me, again, as there was a lady before the other elevator. She was a lady of terrible beauty. White of skin, with long, long black hair and empty, empty black eyes. Grouper swaggered to the front and said, "Give us the kids." She looked at him as if he were at the bottom of the building instead of there on the rooftop with her. Her nostrils widened a moment and then her eyes narrowed in a smile. "Take them." she swept a hand towards the netting. "Your two hundred are there... take them, if you can." A white cloud of pigeons exploded behind the netting, their wings beating the air, the netting, and the sounds of their coo'ing filling the air. "There are... there are a whole lot more than two hundred there, your... uhm... Highness." I said, swallowing nervously as those black eyes focussed on me. She nodded. "There are a thousand." Grouper flipped his shotgun up, dropped something into it that chinked when it hit the bottom. He pulled it back up, pointed it at her, and pulled the trigger. The shotgun exploded. Grouper yelped and swore, shaking his stinging hands. The Black Queen smiled. Grouper fumbled for Lan's gun, but Lan shook Grouper off it. Joe was the one to say, "Grouper, that isn't going to work." Howard had already moved over to the net, looking at the birds. I went next to him and looked in at the cloud of wings. There were grey ones, white ones, speckled ones and darker grey and lighter grey and tan, all about equally represented. There was nothing to distinguish them. Nothing I could see, at all. "See..." said Howard under his breath, pushing up his glasses. He looked at me, "Do you have a mirror?" I shook my head, mutely. Lan flipped out his compass, and on the inside cover of it, there was a mirror. We looked at the pigeons in the reflection, and there were faint faces in the moonlight. Not enough to distinguish features, but there were definitely faces overlaying some of the faces. I went in under the net, as did Lan. Howard pointed out one of the pigeons. I caught it gently and brought it over to the netting. Howard pulled something out of his pocket that glowed green in the darkness. The potion. We fed the bird a drop of the potion. It shivered in my grip and then dropped, a tiny man that squirmed from my hold and ran away. Howard frowned, "A homonculous." Grouper gave a low wordless sound. Then he called out, "Judy! Are you in there? Come here." A tan pigeon with brown eyes fluttered up to him, beating its wings against the netting. Lan caught it gently from within, and brought it over to Howard. Howard fed it a drop of the potion. It shivered in Lan's grasp and suddenly a little girl tumbled forward. Her eyes were the same dark brown as Grouper's. Grouper gathered her up from under the Net into his arms. "Tracy!" called Joe, and I caught the silver grey pigeon that fluttered up. The glowing drop of potion disappeared within the sharp beak, a shiver deep within the small body and my sister's blonde hair, grey eyes, and chubby limbs appeared. We all started calling names. Howard had things lined up for efficiency and we started just cranking the kids out. They soon started filling the garden. Those that the five big kids remembered we called, first, then the kids started calling names as well, those of their friends, playmates, and between everyone, we got the full two hundred. Each of us counted the whole group and concurred on the number and then started to move to the elevator we came up on. There was a locked gate before the elevator. Lan's wire cutters didn't work on the wires of the gate. They should have cut through anything. They couldn't cut through this. I saw Lan look up, I don't know why he looked in that direction. Maybe it was a movement... I'm not sure, but where he looked there was a new moon smile in the darkness, and the Queen raised her head. Lan looked at her, those eyes startling silver green in the moonlight. He spoke into her look, "You promised." She frowned, nodded once and then was abruptly gone. Lan sprinted for the elevator and punched the button, the doors opened. The kids started streaming into the elevator. Long after they should have filled the elevator, they kept going and fitting into the elevator. When the last of them ran in, Grouper brought up the rear, and the doors closed and there was the smooth hum as the elevator went up. Joe took the left side of the elevator doors, Lan the right, and when the doors open, they sprang out, checked the two sides and then motioned us on. Howard called out, "The limo!! They'll probably all fit in the limo!" And the stream of children headed for the long black length of the stretch limosine. The doors were opened and they started streaming in, giggling. As Howard and I herded the kids into the limo, Joe opened the truck, pulled out tire irons and chains. He ran up to one of the motorcycles, and punched a hole in the bottom of the gas tank. Instead of spilling gas the punctured tank bled. He stared at it and then looked up at Grouper and Lan, and the three of them started punching holes for all they were worth in the two hundred tanks of the two hundred motorcycles of the two hundred riders of the Black Queen. They finished as we finished loading the kids into the Limo. Grouper hopped into his truck, while Joe drove the Limo. I rode in the back of the truck with Lan and we had our shotguns ready, but there was no pursuit. The white tracks of our truck shone clearly against the black of the Black Riders' tracks and we followed them out through the ever changing City that shifted and shimmered about us. We reached the Gates and the guards were not there. Then we wound out through the unfamiliar hills, following out tracks back. We reached familiar terrain as the sky began to lighten, when we were only two miles out from town, the edge of the sun lit the sky. Grouper had to slam on the brakes as the limo suddenly stopped and then misted away... and there were two hundred kids in the middle of the road. We put the smallest in the back and front of the pickup, and Grouper drove slowly with the rest of the pack. As we hit the edge of town, kids started peeling off to their houses, and parents started busting out of their houses to meet us and then call further on. Ma met us three blocks in and she laughed and cried harder than I'd ever seen her. Joe looked uncomfortable at it all until she hugged him hard enough to nearly knock the wind outta him. "You brought 'em home. You did." was all she could say before cryin' again. But, I guess that was enough. ----- end of account -----