The tokunbo's not mine...it belongs to my cousin, a physiotherapist in FMC, Owerri, got any buyers? BTW...YAN and LGN is not dead...give me like two months and my preps will be complete...you can always call me...

Emyo, YAN is no Necropolis...lghs...we are looking at LGN being the umbrella body of the org and YAN being the youth wing. What do you guys think? I'm already designing LGN's logo...will soon upload...

Keep it up, Frank. I really hope we can work on this one after CYBER LOVER. Had no time to go thru it, though, but your readers appear very impressed by their comments. Keep it up. You are a good writer...

YAN is not dead. All this talk will get us nowhere...we only need to face issues...we dont have enuf money...nobody's talking of funds...I intend putting in a large sum, but I dont have it now...

YAN list number 1 is out now! Please check for issues regarding your details or lack of it and complain to the exec by commenting below. Please pay up your N1000 if you haven't done so already cuz we are almost through with this stage of the setup. Our Corporate Accnt Bank details are mapped out below.

YAN ACCOUNT DETAILS.
ACCOUNT NAME: Young Authors of Nigeria.
ACCOUNT NO; 0030231592.
BANK: Diamond Bank.

Habaaa....why r we always like ds? Some people r trying to get ds assoc off d grnd while othrs can only curse n accuse...believe me, this is so shameful. We will soon finalize a corporate account. We are really struggling to make this work. Nobody is eating anybody's money and Cuddlemii, you r a very wondrful human being...for havin d patience to watch ds madness. Please evryone, an official list of members will soon be pasted here n our fb page, so keep up d spirit n let's stop all ds madness....pls pls n pls...updates comin up.

My blogs are
http://lastconsort..com/
and
http://georgeshadow..com/
Enjoy...

Please who changed the password of naija.writersclub@gmail.com? Need to send some mails...Oga Dailynews abeg...

Emyo, so sorry about the mixup. Here's the actual links:

http://lastconsort..com/
and
http://georgeshadow..com/
Uniquexty, you knw ur always welcome. More reviews comin up...
Can see NL altered some words in my story, but was wondering why they used 'pooh' instead of something better? Mmmmmmmh....

BTW, Uniquexty, I tried to comment on your blog but it kinda froze up on me, so here is my review right here for you. Maybe you should consider using Wordpress or Blogger ? I mean, opening a blog in one of these? I use Blogger and they have excellent designs. Blogger is from Google, BTW...

Okay Christy, I think I like what you wrote and my review will be in two parts. First, I will show you the good things you achieved with this write-up, and then I will show you the not-so-good things you did, okay? I just hope I have that permission to be very blunt with you because that is the best way to critique a write-up like MY CRUSH.

The first good thing you did was to finish and post this piece. Believe me, it is not easy to overcome writer's block, have that determination to finish a work, and then post it for others to read, so I give you credit for that.
Another good thing you did was to start the story the way you did. 'The Aliens are here...' Wow! I like the way you connected a crazy fantasy like Aliens to a down-to-Earth experience like a dream. It grabbed my attention the instant I started reading and that was the biggest achievement your opening lines got for you, so another credit for this goes to you. That shows you have that artistic flare of wild freedom and it's a good thing because it means you have what it takes to be world class. How you go about achieving this, however depends entirely on you.
The third thing I think you did well with this piece is the way you ended the story? The boyfriend coming in to meet his girl in the arms of another guy? The bombshell! I must say you ended with a bang. Of course you did many other things so well, but I think I can now move to the second part of this review.

The piece could have done better if you have narrated in the present. What I mean is writing as if it is happening now? For example, I have re-written the first few paragraphs to drive home my point:


The aliens are here. I can bet my life on it. What is worse? They have invaded my room. Oops! The alien queen is on me. Silky and hairy. Her arms wrap lovingly around my stomach. Big black eyes stare deeply into mine. She is fully dressed in a white coat that has red fur lined from the sleeves. And she is whispering into my ears. Yank! I push her away from my body. My eyes spring open and my head release banging shots. What da heck! It is my cat-shaped alarm that is buzzing loudly on the lamp stand. It is 7:30 a.m. on a Saturday. My eyes move round the room and everything is in place except Elmo who lies helplessly on the floor. Oh, poor Elmo! Reduced to an alien queen by my minds' eyes. Thanks to the horror movie I watched the previous night!
Reaching down, I grab Elmo by the ear and pull her into my shaking arms. She is my teddy bear and best friend. A gift from Frank. And thinking of Frank, I am actually expecting him later on in the day, so I better hurry and finish my chores before the time arrives!
Pulling Elmo into a tight embrace, we cuddle on the bed. Jeez! I've never met a jealous clock like the one I had. The alarm blares up again. Louder than ever. 'Well! You can't treat me like a trash can. I am also a part of this household and equally has a duty to perform!' the angry clock is screaming. I jump out of bed frustrated and tuck Elmo in. Doctor says she needs enough rest after her treatment the day before, so I decide to go out today without her by my side.
It is Saturday and I know I have to go shopping. Besides, from the emptiness of my storage cart, it is obviously obvious that I have to go shopping, else I will be unbelievably screwed. It is indeed going to be a long day, although I am yet to find out how long. Anyway! First thing's first.
God! I hate hangovers! My entire room and the fullness thereof revolve around my eyes. Banging my head wall to wall, I find my way to the bathroom. Just a few bottles and see how stupid I have become!
Done with bathing, satisfied with make-up, I struggle into my pencil skirt and shirt, grab my bogus and empty handbag and kiss Elmo goodbye.
What is the world turning into? Abakaliki also experiences traffic jams? Saturday is always a disaster! Angry drivers blare horns at each other, increasing the rate of pollution, not to talk of global warming. Oh well...
One instruction I give myself this crispy Saturday morning is to go solo. Ignore my consanguinity. No Friends today. No broad smile greetings! Only do my shopping and zap out. But as I am going through my shopping list the twentieth time after closely obeying this rule for some time, a voice goes straight through me!
"Looks like you might do with some help." I turn around to see if this statement is actually meant for me, and a total hottie wearing a long-sleeved buttoned-down shirt atop a pair of faded jeans and beneath a killer grin stares back at me. Perfect! Just when I think my Saturday resolution is going well, here stands Mr. Handsome! That isn't all. His smoking smile is immediately replaced with surprise. Why is he starring at me, right inside my eyes with this intensity of shock?
"Khriztie!" It is more of a whisper.

Okay, hope you get the picture with my revamp above, but bottom line is this: if you want to write a story, either you stick with the present tense or the past tense throughout the story's length. Your story had both types and this can become very tasking for any English reader.
Now, another thing I noticed is that your "I" for the storyteller was a small letter all the way. It should be a capital letter.
And then some of your paragraphs did not start in a separate line from the previous one. The trick is to know when you start narrating a different event in a story and determine if this should be a separate paragraph. I hope you got the above. Could have written out more points for you but for want of time. Nice story. I loved it. Will be reviewing BABY BUSH ASAP. Take care and be safe.

George Shadow is the author of The Last Consort.
Visit his blog: www.georgeshadow..com
www.lastconsort..com

Hi guys. Thought you guys can do with a peep into my second novel in the Booklord Adventure Series, THE WHITE BOOK. Enjoy! Book out December 2013...

THE WHITE BOOK's first two chapters! Sneak Peek of the original rough cut! Enjoy this action-packed page-turner from next year!

Chapter 1
THE HOMELESS GIRL

KIMBERLEY was literally carrying her to the car since she could no longer walk.The cold had eaten deep into the poor child’s body and she could not move a muscle. She was also shaking terribly despite the thick squad jacket her rescuer had hurriedly covered her broken figure with as soon as she had reached her in the middle of that frosty, snow-choked road.
The officer knew that it was just a matter of minutes before something very bad started happening.She could hear the girl’s beating heart as she quickly swung open the front passenger door and placed her on the seat, amply covering her with the jacket before slamming the door and running over to her side to slide in behind the steering wheel.
Luckily, she had left the engine running, and now stepped on the gas. She only hoped she could get the kid back to headquarters and EMS before any ominous signs popped up.
“Raccoon D115 to HQ; Raccoon D115 to HQ, over….”
“HQ to D115, how may I help you? Over….”
“Got an emergency here, Kate. Little girl got lost, I think…need EMS standing by…I repeat, EMS standing by, over….”
“On the double, Kim…. Hope she’s okay? Over….”
“She’s still alive, though…just shivering and muttering to herself.”
“ETA?”
“Approximately five minutes. Just driving past David’s shop right now. Over and out.”
As the patrol jeep hurtled down the street en route to the station, Kimberley glanced at the teenager and observed that the peculiar object she’d been thoroughly guarding was now out of sight. However, the female officer had decided to investigate this entity later, because its owner needed saving first.
The snow was making driving a bit difficult at the speed she had maintained, but she knew she had to get to the hospital before things got worse for her young friend. At present, the girl was going through incredible bouts of shaking while staring blankly at the windshield.
“They…are…coming…”
“What did you say?”
“They…are…coming…,” she whispered again, coughing afterwards. “They…will…never…stop…until…until…”
“Until what?” Kimberley had her eyes fixed on the road before this. “Take it easy, dear; they’ll never get you now…whoever ‘they’ are…we just need to get you to the hospital.”
“No…” She sounded alarmed. “T-They won’t stop…ever…”
“Just quiet down already…please?” The police sergeant felt like she was losing control of the situation. Ironically, she was trying to remain composed, herself. She thought she was not doing so well in this department, though, and thought of what else to do in order to calm herself down, as well as her young, jittery friend. “By the way, what’s your – OH, SHIT!!”
A lone figure was standing in the middle of the road. The Cherokee swerved wildly, missing him by inches and blowing up snow dust. It veered off the road, its left wheels spinning in the air.For a moment, it was as if it would definitely hit a lamppost, but then it spun round before sliding off the road on its roof, missing the structure by a foot.
Kimberley blacked out when it hit a tree.
The little girl was shouting.

***

She woke up amidst noise. Medics, officers and patrol cars were all around her. She was on a stretcher receiving treatment near the accident scene, but the little girl she had tried to save was nowhere near the area as far as she could tell.
“You all right, Kim?” It was her boyfriend.
“Yeah, John. I’m fine.”
“Boy was I worried about you!” He sounded relieved. “Waited for you a long time after you called in. Had to come out here with every help I could lay my hands on down at HQ. What happened?”
“Dunno…Someone was standing on the road…”
“A man?”
“No…yes…don’t know really…we sped off the road…and I-I just blacked out!” Her left hand shot up to her head. She had a headache coming. “Where’s the girl, John?”
“She wasn’t here when we got here,” he told her. “Must have wandered off before we arrived.”
“We need to find her.” She gingerly sat up.
“No need for that, honey,” protested John. “You need to rest.”
His girlfriend frowned, furrowing her brows. “I’m fine,” she said aloud for everyone’s benefit, including the confused paramedics. Her whole body ached painfully. “Trust me, really. I am fine. I just need some painkillers.”
A paramedic nodded and turned to enter the ambulance.
“We need to find that girl, John.”
“Already sent out word,” he allayed. “Unless she’s pulled some disappearing trick, we’ll find her pretty soon.”
“She – She was saying something about some people coming for her…and then she was shouting some funny word when we lost control.”
“Really?”
“Where’s my car?”
“Over there,” he pointed out. “Think we can fix it?”
It was a mess.
Kimberley got up and walked over to it. A team was trying to turn it the right way up, but was so far making little progress. The front bumper was bashed in, and its front wheels faced funny angles. The roof had totally collapsed and the windshield was completely missing. She wondered how they had come out of it needing just pain pills.
The pain capsules.
She remembered she still ached all over.
Wasn’t this just a bad dream?
She bent down as soon as the car’s rescuers had completed another unsuccessful attempt to pull it up, and yanked her driver’s door open. Rummaging through the compartment, she collected her personal items and shut the door before the salvage team could decide to try again.
Why was that idiot standing in the middle of the road at that ungodly hour?
“Have sent out word for him as well,” John said behind her when he saw her staring at the motorway. Skid marks were on the ground before them.
“Can remember everywhere getting cold pretty fast after we swerved away from him,” she said, shivering. “Gave me the chills.”
“You just need to relax, Kim. Let me handle this,” he soothed, drawing close to her just as she looked up, feeling much better already. Trust him to take charge, she thought with a smile.
“Thanks, dear…just worried about the girl, that’s all.” She broadened her smile into a grin, creating a very funny face. What would she do in this crazy world without him?
“Tell me you will rest when we get back to the station?” he pleaded, his eyes steadily holding hers.
“I promise,” she agreed, the smile still playing on her lips. Her headache was getting worse. “And I promise to take my pills now…”
“Gosh, the aspirin!” he remembered, placing one hand on his forehead. “Trust you to forget that as well,” he fondly accused her. “Not when you’re in the middle of an investigation despite the fact that you just had an accident!”
“No, I…”
Something caught her eye in the snow.
It was a book.
The peculiar object the teenager had been thoroughly guarding.

Chapter 2
THE Package, THE ATTACK & THE DECISION

Rooney was very restless, tapping a foot to the rhythm of an unseen drum on the subway floor. He’d been waiting for an hour now and was feeling so lonely and insecure in that cold, dark place that he started having second thoughts about waiting for the man.
The man.
The mere thought of this person made him shiver slightly and he wondered why he agreed to take the job in the first place. The dude must have killed a dozen times in his life and Rooney now shook with fear at the thought of seeing him again. Maybe he was killing someone at that very moment, hence the delay. This reasoning made the boy spin round and begin to walk away. He would have to call the man later and claim an accident as excuse. The meeting would have to be rescheduled.
Then Rooney found himself wondering what the man would do if he did not believe his lie. The guy might even conclude that he was trying to play a fast one. He could even decide to look for Rooney and gun him down! No, thought the boy, stopping cold in his tracks. He did not want to die that way! He would have to deliver the parcel as planned.
Just then, he heard footsteps down the dark alley. Thinking that his contact was the one, he braced himself, the parcel in his hand and his heart loudly beating in his ears. The girl’s sudden appearance from the darkness startled as well as baffled him, and he kept staring at her until she stopped a few feet from him. Now his heart was slowing down.
She had on a police jacket atop a mucky, green dress, and like Rooney, her face was very dirty. Rooney looked her over for a while and looked down at his own dirty clothes in realization. She was just as homeless as he was.
“I am Rooney,” he introduced. “Who are you?”
No reply. She’d been looking around her all this time, fidgeting and coughing now and then. Now she hugged her bosom in a nervous manner. Rooney was wondering who she was and why she was there at that point in time.
“Who are you?” he repeated, still puzzled. Why was she feeling so cold despite the warm jacket? He wished he were the one wearing it in that very cold subway.
“I…need…you…to take me to the…station…”
“What?”
“I…need…you…to take me to the…police station…right now, please?”
Rooney was visibly startled by this bold appeal. It was as if she was scared of someone.
Something.
“Look,” he began, “you shouldn’t even be here right now, really – trust me. Now, go away quickly before he…”
“Before he does what?” asked a new voice and the boy turned to see the man he’d been waiting for standing at the foot of the subway stairs. The stoically built fellow was shabbily dressed and sweaty, with deep brows and a cold stare. Indeed, he looked the part of a very bad man through and through. His overbearing presence was quite intimidating and Rooney took a step backwards. The boy got even more scared when he noticed the gun in the man’s right hand. This guy must have killed someone before coming down for his parcel!
“Hey! What are you…?” The girl had suddenly snatched the package from him and was quickly bounding up the nearest steps to the road. Rooney hesitated for just three seconds, turning to say something to his emotionless contact and thinking better of this before scampering up after the girl.
“Hey, stop! Come back here, boy!” shouted the man. “Where’s the package?” He went after them.
Out on the roadside, the girl was being stopped by a police officer who just came out from a patrol car. The boy had equally stopped in his tracks, but upon seeing his contact’s head pop out of the subway, he decided to join the duo a few feet away.
Alarmed, the man stopped to observe what was happening halfway up the steps. Now it looked like the girl was giving something to the cop. Was it the parcel? Better not be, he thought, else he would smother the two of them with his bare hands when this was over.
Suddenly, she was pointing his way! He just saw the cop heading towards the subway before docking and going back down the steps. He cocked his silencer before disappearing into the shadows. He heard the law enforcement officer coming down the steps.
Rooney was glaring at the girl now and then as they both stood near the squad car. He was visibly angry due to the obviously awkward turn of events. Now there was no way he could disappear for fear of being caught by this new nemesis currently hiding in the subway, and there was no way he could steal the package in the patrol vehicle and take it back either, because the cops would start looking for him. His only choice was to remain where he stood since the police would protect him from the Gang just as they had done the last time. Least they could do back at the station was to label him a homeless child and take him back to social services or, worse yet, put him in juvenile prison for some juvenile number of years as a juvenile delinquent.
“Why the hell did you do that for?” he burst out, glaring at the empty road to his left. “You could have gotten us both killed, you know?” It was as if the girl was not even hearing him. She was staring at the squad car as if it was the solution to all her problems. “Hey!” he snapped, grabbing her right arm as well as her attention. “Why do you act so strange, huh?”
“C-Can you drive?”
“What?”
Muffled gunshot preceded a shout of pain and both kids turned to the subway in consternation. Who fired and who got shot?
Another gunshot caused them to visibly jerk in fright, and then…silence.
Nothing.
Someone had obviously died…but who?
The man was stepping out of the subway with a gun in his right hand!
“Get in the car!” shouted Rooney, running over to the driver’s side. The girl was already doing this. Car doors were thankfully open. The rare windscreen shattered.
“He is shooting at us!”
Rooney stepped on the gas and the cop car sped off.
Carl Bane let off three more rounds before breaking his run. Luckily, the eerily quiet park was still empty. No crazy bystander was gawking at a man with a gun. He was not going to lose that package. He went back to the subway and emerged in a police uniform with two bullet holes on the back. His car was parked a few feet away and he walked over to it and slid in behind the wheels.

***

Sergeant Kimberley looked at her handiwork spread out on her office desk. She had realized she could pull the book apart when she discovered a single thread holding all the leaves as well as the cover together. Ever since she came back to the station, she’d been engrossed in finding out whatever she could about this strange book by taking it apart, but so far she hadn’t made any progress.
Again, she picked up some leaves and scrutinized these using the fluorescent light flooding her desk from the ceiling. They had blank pages save for a name repeatedly written in so many languages through two or three sheets.
Rachel.
The English version of the name was clear enough.
Whose name was that and what was he or she to the girl she’d tried to save earlier that night? Rather, was it the girl’s name? Was her name Rachel? Kimberley was growing impatient with the lack of answers to the many questions she’d raised about that night’s incident ever since she picked up that girl from that snow-choked road. Nothing seemed to be working out for her in this difficult investigation. Even the stranger who had caused the accident hadn’t been found and brought in.
Sighing, she placed the leaves back on her desk, their wet surfaces glistening in the bright light flooding her office from above her. She still wondered how the book’s pages remained permanently wet despite the fan she had left on in her office. She had done nothing except ponder over this out on the road. What kept its pages perpetually wet?
A sudden blast of cold air startled her. It definitely wasn’t the fan.
“We need to see her!” someone was stressing in the main hall and she looked up to see the girl she’d tried to rescue that evening talking to Patrol Officer Lyndon amidst a very busy night staff, but where did they find her? Kimberley quickly moved to her office door. The familiar boy with her new friend was also trying to get a message across, but the girl was more persistent. “Please we need to see her! She’s with something of mine!” she kept repeating.
Lyndon was trying to herd the kids back to the reception hall as the female officer stepped out of her office. “This is no place for kids,” he was saying. “Get in there and I’ll go get her for you.”
“Wait!” she called out to him and the little girl instantly recognized her when their eyes met.
“I want my book back, miss!” she said, stepping forward only to be stopped by the tall Patrol Officer. Whatever happened to her coughing and stammering?
“Where have you been?” Kimberley asked her, moving towards the trio in the middle of the boisterous hall. “Why did you run away? What’s with this book of yours? Who did you tell me was coming after you?”
“You won’t believe me if I told you!” replied the girl in a tense voice.
“What are you two going on about?” queried a confused Lyndon.
“Where did you find her, Rooney?” Kimberley rather asked the boy as she grabbed the girl and pulled her towards her office, the other two closely behind.
“I didn’t find her,” Rooney replied with a frown. “She found me.” It was now obvious to him that the sergeant thought he had brought the girl in. What he didn’t know was why everyone was focusing on the girl alone. Even Sergeant Kimberley had forgotten he escaped from his foster home some days back. Was that good news?
“What have you done?” the girl exploded on sighting the scattered book leaves on Kimberley’s table from her office door. She rushed over to the desk and started collecting the scattered leaves of the book. “You have destroyed it!” she accused.
“What’s going on, Kim?” Lyndon asked his superior as he closed the door behind him. She looked at him and shrugged, shaking her head. Now she turned back to the strange girl.
“And what, exactly, have I destroyed?”
“What will stop them from killing us all?” replied the girl, glaring at the police officer. “And for everyone’s sake, I hope I’m wrong!” She turned back to the desk and started organizing the book leaves together.
Cold air swept across the room a second time.
“A bad man is after us, Kim,” Rooney suddenly highlighted in the quiet room. “And he has a gun!”
“And why is he after you?” Kimberley seemed only slightly distracted by this news. “What have you done this time?”
“He…He wants this…” Rooney was revealing what he was holding. A package wrapped in polythene. He had thought this was the best time to bring up his predicament if he was ever going to get the officers’ attention since not one of them had taken any interest in him ever since he stepped into the police station with his weird companion. Maybe parking the squad car a few blocks away had been a mistake, since its shattered, rare windscreen would have done a better job of getting their attention.
The strange girl moved to pick up the book leaves she had arranged on the desk and Kimberley stopped her by seizing an arm.
“Lyndon?”
The Patrol Officer took the item from Rooney and untied it. He sniffed at it and looked up to his senior colleague. “Coke?”
“What?” his female superior was quite surprised by this revelation. “Rooney, how did you get that?”
The boy’s babbling reply was interrupted by the girl’s scream. Everyone’s attention shifted again to her. She was visibly on edge and her hands were trembling as she glared at Kimberley. “They’re coming!” she snapped. “You’ve got to let me go! They will kill everyone here if you don’t!”
“Who are ‘they’?” Kimberley was getting pretty furious, herself. “Just tell me what I wanna know and I’ll let you go!”
“Calm down, Kim,” cautioned Lyndon. “She’s just a kid.” Another officer had been drawn into the room by the girl’s scream and he turned to the man. “It’s okay, Jack. We can handle this.” He realized some officers had also been distracted outside and most of them were staring at the office. “Back to work, people!” he admonished and they hesitantly obeyed him.
“Who are ‘they’?” repeated his colleague in a less-agitated tone of voice. “Why will they kill everyone if I don’t let you go?”
“It’s a long story!” the girl frantically replied. “And I have no time! You have to listen to me! Please, I beg you!” She tried to shake herself free and Kimberley let go of her arm.
“Look, young lady,” began Patrol Officer Lyndon, wagging a finger at the girl. “We cannot let you go if you don’t tell Miss Reyna what she wants to know…lives could be at risk, you know!” He was beginning to lose his cool like his superior.
“Already told you!” she wailed, exasperated. “It’s a long story!”
“Which you should be halfway through by now if you have started already!” cried Kimberley, rolling her eyes upwards and raising her hands in frustration.
“It’s getting cold in here!” suddenly observed Rooney, hugging himself, but nobody even glanced at him. Again, they must have forgotten why he was there, he thought.
Just then, his strange acquaintance in this strange scenario tried to grab the separated sheets again, but Kimberley easily stopped her and handed her to Lyndon. The girl looked long and hard at the stacked book leaves on the table, everyone closely watching her facial expression. “Please…you have to listen to me…just let me go before they come…!” she begged them for the umpteenth time, turning to Kimberley with pleading eyes. “I really don’t have any time!”
In reply, the female sergeant sadly shook her head and walked over to her desk. The little girl wasn’t getting it, she thought in dismay. “What’s your name?” she demanded from her young headache.
“Rachel.”
“Figured as much!” The other two turned confusedly towards her with raised brows. “Her name’s written all over some pages in this - this mystery book of hers!” she tried to explain, searching for the word that best described the sheets of extraordinary paper lying before her. “And please, please, please, can someone tell me why the pages of this damn book are always very wet?”
“Uh…because it fell into snow? Outside?” suggested Rooney, timidly.
“Nope…I mean…the freaking thing seems to be oozing out water without getting soggy and…and torn, see?” Kimberley picked up the stack of leaves and water trickled onto her desk in a steady stream. She dropped the stack and the bizarre occurrence ceased. Only the girl lacked any sign of surprise amongst the other three, but the female sergeant cared less about that now. “I need answers, Rachel,” she affirmed. “And I need them now!”
“I-I can’t…”
“Why not?” This was persuasive.
Rachel began to say something and then swallowed hard, her eyes wandering across the room and resting on Kimberley’s fixed gaze. She had tears in her eyes. “It - It is too late now!” she whispered, blinking back stinging tears. “They’re already here and we are all doomed!”
Cold air swept through their bodies again.
“Getting cold in here!” warned Patrol Officer Lyndon, beginning to take his hands to his bosom like his superior officer. A mistake he instantly regretted, because Rachel suddenly shook free from him and grabbed the mysterious collection of book leaves on the desk. Kimberley moved to stop her but only pulled her up after she had lifted the item away from the table, while Lyndon drew one of her hands towards him, knocking Rooney out of the way in the process.
The lights went out as the room’s temperature fell fast.
Rachel was shouting.

***

Rooney first woke up, searching the darkness all around him and feeling a slight headache. He must have hit his head somewhere, he thought. He discovered he was entangled at the legs with somebody’s limbs and realized it was the male cop, Lyndon, who was lying across his legs.
“What – What happened?” someone demanded to his right. Kimberley. Lyndon stirred and got up.
The lights came back on.
“Where’s the girl?” asked Rooney, flinching from the glare.
“She – She must have disappeared again!” suggested Kimberley, getting up to look around at the chaos now her office. Her things from the desk were all strewn across the floor and the table was lying on one side. The mysterious book was also missing. “We must find her!” she said in a shaky voice, feeling another headache coming right up. “She’s the key to unraveling all this!”
“I’m still here!” someone called out to them from outside her office. It was Rachel and she sounded so defeated. The three inside the room stepped out into the main hall of the police station only to discover why her voice had turned into a sad one. The scenario was as if a hurricane had swept through the hall, throwing down chairs, upturning tables and smashing television screens.
And the dead lay everywhere.
“Jesus bleeping Christ!” exploded Patrol Officer Lyndon, scampering over to turn one of his colleagues the right way up and feel his pulse. Nothing. The man was visibly and accurately dead. Kimberley buckled to her knees in a daze. She was still trying to take it all in. Rooney’s hands remained on his head. Lyndon moved over to another fellow lying a few feet away. Dead. He saw something like ash on the ground near an officer’s desk.
“They take their dead with them,” pointed out Rachel, whose voice was like a ghost’s, wafting into his consciousness like the implausible scene they’d just found themselves in. “It’s quite unbelievable, but true!” she continued in a shaky voice. “We’re still alive! It still works!”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” he demanded from her, visibly surprised by her present utterances.
“It - It still works!” she repeated in a small voice, looking around her with trepidation. “But we’ve gotta leave now before they come back for it!”
“What the hell do you mean by that?” the patrol officer repeated with a frown. “What the hell have you been saying all this while?”
“There’s no one here to save!” intruded Kimberley, cutting short the conversation. “Everyone’s dead!” She had crept up to a female dispatcher still sitting on her chair and staring into oblivion several feet away. Feeling the girl’s pulse, she sadly dropped the hand and shook her head in bewilderment. They were all dead. What had happened that very instant the lights went out? Who had come into the station and smothered all her colleagues in the twinkle of an eye?
Rooney was still immobile with shock. He was staring at the chaotic situation around him from Kimberley’s office door. Lyndon stepped into the chief’s office and froze when he saw the man lying near his water purifier. He stepped up to the body and bent down to close the eyes as a mark of respect. Dazed, he unconsciously closed the office door behind him as he stepped out of the room.
“No! Please, God, no!” screamed Kimberley on spotting someone’s body lying a few feet from the hall’s entrance. “No! Oh, please…no! No! No!” She ran over and was quickly beside the body, realizing it was really her boyfriend. Her pain was palpable and her tears were pouring out like a fountain as she shook all over. The others could only watch in despair as she cried her heart out. Rachel had tears in her eyes as well.
“I-I tried to…to warn you this would happen…” she croaked, and the sergeant turned to her, their eyes locking across that lifeless hall. Slowly, Kimberley reached for her side arm, getting up.
“It’s time to talk!” she hissed. “Who the hell did this to…to John and the others?”
“Jesus, no, Kim!” warned Lyndon, quickly getting to her as she took the first step towards the cowering girl.
“I swear to God I’ll kill you!” she kept saying to herself as Lyndon held her, preventing additional forward steps. She was swinging the gun around in blunt anger, while Rachel kept drawing further back where she sat. Rooney had also drawn back in alarm. “I swear to God I’ll kill you if you don’t start talking right now! Who did this?”
“She’s just a kid, Kim…contain yourself!” Lyndon snapped at her and she turned from him. “Okay, you have to hand over the gun…right now!”
His superior bowed her head in indecision.
“Sergeant?”
The gun exchanged hands.
“You know I have to put you under arrest for this?”
She nodded, looking away. Rooney and Rachel appeared confused by this new twist. “But she’s done nothing wrong!” protested the boy. “She didn’t shoot anyone, did she?”
“No, boy, she didn’t, but she just got way out of line. I just need to read her rights to her and chain her, and then we can find out what’s happening here.”
“We-We’ve got to leave this place before they come back,” warned Rachel. “Can’t this wait?”
Lyndon ignored her, trying to appear calm and in control as he turned back to his superior officer and brought out the chains. Despite what had happened – the tragedy all around them – he knew he must do what he was about to do. That was called protocol. “Sergeant Kimberley Reyna, I’m putting you under arrest for…”
The shot was muffled, but its aftermath was not. Patrol Officer Lyndon let out a loud cry and dropped like a sack of sand as Kimberley swooped down on the gun she’d handed him. Another shot rang out but the kids were already scampering into her office as she scurried in behind them.
“Who’s the new guy now?” she breathed, peering out from around her door. Another shot wheezed past and she ducked, hitting her head on the leg of her upturned desk. “Damn it!”
“Don’t think he’s new,” began Rooney, wide-eyed. “Bet he’s the guy I was trying to tell you about! I think he has found us!”
Kimberley peered out again, searching the vast hall for signs of movement. She saw him hiding behind a shattered window. The boy could be right.
Rachel swallowed hard and turned to the sergeant. “We’ve gotta leave right now?” she croaked. “M-My book?”
“I’m not done with you, yet, honey,” hissed the older female. “I’ll get those answers if it’s the last thing I do!” She swerved out and let off some shots at the window. The fellow responded with a sustained volley. Kimberley drew back and shook her head. “This won’t work!”
“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” queried Rachel, looking at the officer long and hard. “I said we could leave this place with my book.”
Rooney stifled laughter and rather scoffed. “And how is that possible, Miss Magic? How are we gonna do that?”
In reply, the girl brought out the separated book leaves from underneath her arms and the other two started. “So you took it?” asked Kimberley. “You took it and caused all this mayhem! You killed him!”Another shot whistled into the room and all three shifted further away from the door. She stretched out her right arm and fired thrice into the hall. “Wait till we get out of here!” she coldly whispered as she drew back from the doorway.
But Rachel was just busy shuffling through the pages. She wasn’t listening. “We can’t go back into the past,” she said to herself.
“What?”
“We can’t go back into the past…we have to keep going forward if we are to stand any chance of defeating them.”
“What the hell are you saying?” began Rooney, staring at her.“Who the hell are these people you keep mentioning?” They heard a soft thump outside. Their assailant must have jumped into the hall through the broken window. Rooney turned to Kimberley with wide fear in his eyes and whispered in a shaky voice, “What do we do now?”
“I need a pen,” softly said Rachel and the other two glared at her.
“Yeah, you think this is a joke?” snapped Kimberley, checking the rounds in her clip. She was almost out. More shots were fired at them from outside. “This is crazy!” she whispered and pulled out her pen. “Here! Wonder why I’m doing this!”
“Do you really believe her?” Rooney was unconvinced. “She’s insane!”
“Hey!” shouted the man outside. “I know you’re in there, Rooney! I just want my package, okay? Seems your cop friends are no use to you right now! Look around you! Wonder who did my job for me!” He started laughing.
“It’s him!” Rooney whispered, cringing back with heightened fear. “He’ll kill us if we don’t leave soon! Or if we don’t give him what he wants?”
“Not doing that,” negated Kimberley, shaking her head and picking up the package from where Lyndon had dropped it in the confusion that had earlier ensued. “That’s against the law. What’s the story with this guy, anyway?”
“N-Nothing, really…,” began Rooney, fidgeting with his hands as he spoke. “I-I was just going to give him the coke and he shot a cop and we had to escape in the cop’s car…and…”
“What?” Kimberley turned sharply to him. “You drove down here?” Another bullet flew past. This one was too close for comfort. “Okay, we gotta leave right now.”
Rachel nodded in agreement. “Here, hold my hands, both of you.” She was quite serious and the others hesitated before obeying. “Not the jacket,” she corrected them. “Touch my skin.”
“I want you to tell the cop with you to throw out her gun, Rooney! She’s a broad and I don’t like killing broads!” bellowed Carl Bane from outside. “I will count to three and if she doesn’t do this before three, all hell will break lose here!”
“You heard him,” whispered an alarmed Rooney. “He means it, Kim!”
Rachel scribbled her name on a sheet of the book in her possession.
“One!” shouted Mr. Bane outside. “Two!” He peered out from behind the desk he was hiding and stared at the empty space before the door ahead. There was no gun on the floor. “Three!”
He got up pumping bullets into the office before him as he walked towards the door with his right arm stretched out. His shots were calculated ones leveled at the open door as well as the walls surrounding it. He was equally ready to spring away from the line of fire should his opponent suddenly emerge before him and start shooting.
But nothing happened.
He got to the door and backed one of its walls, breathing hard.
Still, nothing happened.
Scanning the room from his vantage position, he suddenly bolted into it, swerving to both sides of the door in a quick, responsive manner, but there was no one behind the door.
Carl Bane was perplexed. He dropped his outstretched arms to his sides.
The room was empty.
Then he saw some clothes on both sides of the door,and a single sheet of paper lying near a police jacket. He stooped to pick it up. It had only one name on it.
Rachel.

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