Raven Wolf

(Scene 9)

Several hours later, John Doggett had slipped away, after telling Frank what motel he was staying in. The other members had trickled back from town, with fresh supplies of food and other essentials. After dinner, Carrie slipped away and went back to the room she shared with another woman. A 40ish year old woman named Susan. She sat on the end of the bed for a minute, staring at the floor. Her skin had gone gray and her eyes blank. Suddenly, she got up and ran to the bathroom. A moment later, Susan knocked on the bathroom door.

"Carrie? Are you o.k., hun?"

There was no reply. Susan opened the door and found Carrie, hunched over the toilet, vomiting.

"Oh my God," she exclaimed as she went to the young womans side. "Hon, it's o.k. I'll get you cleaned up and in bed." She got a washcloth and soaked it in cold water, wiping the shaking girls face. She then helped her to her feet and over to her cot, kneeling down beside her as she lay on her side, still trembling, her face as white as a ghost.

"Got 'em bad this month, have ya'?" Susan asked.

Finaly, Carrie spoke. "No. It's not the cramps."

"Somethin' ya' had for dinner then?" she guessed.

"No, I don't think so," Carrie replyed softly. "In fact, speaking of periods, I haven't had one in almost two months."

She turned and met her roomates eyes. "I'm not quite sure how to say this...."

"Just spit it out, hun," Susan urged.

"I think....." Carrie looked away, her eyes tearing up, then she looked back at Susan. "I'm pregnant."

The concerned woman, who'd been leaning on the girls bed, rocked back and sat on the floor. "Hon, whe've gotta get you outta here," she said firmly.

Carrie wiped away her tears and replyed, "Why, Susan? What's wrong?"

"There was a woman here before you and your boyfriend. She was my room-mate, too. Her name was Helen."

"Why do you keep saying "was"? What happened to her?" Carries tone was becomming increasingly tense.

"She was pregnant, too, and she managed to keep it a secret for a while, but then Nicholas found out."

Carrie sat half-way up and turned toward her friend. "Susan, you're scaring me. Tell me what happened."

"One of the rules Nicholas has gotton from the Guidestones is that we must balance the population in accordance with nature. Helens baby was not part of the equation." She paused and swallowed hard. "One night, she just dissapeared. All her things vanashed from our room and no one would tell me where she went. I'm convinced that he did something to her."

Carrie's pallor grew as she whispered, "Oh, God." Her eyes were wide with horror and disbelief.

"We've gotta get you outta here," Susan repeated as she stood and went around the room, gathering Carrie's cloths and the few belongings she was permitted to have. Carrie started to get up as the door to the room began to open. The two woman froze as they saw Nicholas enter the room.

(end scene 9)

(Scene 8)

Frank stood, calmly, trying desperatly to compose a story that would explain his presence in Nicholas' office. Retaining his composure with the confidence of a card player trying to bluff his way into making everyone believe he has a full house, he resigned himself and fixed his gaze upon the now opening door. His poker face was replaced with a look of mystified releaf as John Doggett leaned in the door and said urgently....

"Grab whatever you came for and come with me now. They're comming."

Putting aside the thousands of questions as to how John had found him, Frank quickly followed him out the door and across the compund to where John had hidden his car, behind a group of trees.

"My daughter," were the first words Frank spoke to John as he opened the car door.

"Jorden's fine," John replyed. "Just get in and I'll explain everything."

Frank got into the passengers side of the red GMC Jimmy, and closed the door behind him, turning expectantly to Doggett.

"What happened? How did you find me? Why are you here?"

"Monica called me. Said your little girl was insisting you were in some kind of danger."

At that moment, they heard the roar of a car crunching over gravel, and peaked out to see Nicholas' car drive up to the very building Frank was just in.

"He was supposed to be gone for hours." Frank turned t John. "How did you know?"

"I diddn't know," John replyed. "I just guessed. And, knowing what I now know, that's one guy you don't wanna be caught spying on."

"What do you mean? What did you find out?"

"For one thing.....That that guy makes Saddam Hussein look like a prom queen." John reached into the back seat and grabbed a folder, opening it and pulling out a stack of papers. "He calls himself Nicholas Stone, right?" Frank nodded. "Dr. Nicholas Stone is an identity he created. There is no evidence he ever practiced medicine, or even went to medical school. He's a computer whiz who created this whole identity to be able to buy drugs. His real name is Nicholas Grey."

Frank nodded. "Yes. I found the receipts in his desk. I believe he is planning to wipe out as much of the next generation as he can, by tainting other medications with a hybrodized version of what is commonly reffered to as the "abortion pill". He's already tested its effectiveness on a woman here. A mother-to-be." Frank took a breath. "There's a young lady here now. I believe she's pregnant."

"If she is," Johns tone was suddenly softened, "she's as good as dead, unless we do something right now."

(end scene 8)

(Scene 7)

Frank sat in his room, holding the womans ring, turning it around and around in his fingers. Why was this young mother here? Where was her husband? He clutched the ring tightly in his hand, and looked around the room. Then, an image of the woman came into his mind. In another bed room. With another man. Arguing, fighting. The man took her head in his hands and cracked his head against hers, nearly knocking her uncontious. Suddenly, it became clear to him why she had come here. She was afraid. Afraid for her life, and the life of her unborn child. She had saught refuge here, with these supposedly "Christian" people. Here where her baby was viewed as a "cancer" upon the Earth.

Now, he understood why he had seen this young woman's fate when he met Carries sad eyes.

He decided to go for a walk and do some snooping. He tucked the ring in his pocket, turned off the light, and left, closing the door behind him. Fortunatly, it seemed most everyone else had left the compund to drive to Elberton for supplies. There was an eerie silence around the crumbling old buildings, which mirrored the crumbling appearance of the jagged stone bank. He walked toward the first building, which served as Nicholas' office. Glancing around the barron, dirt yard, he determined it was safe to enter.

Once inside, he quickly and quietly closed the door and moved over to the desk. The top drawer contained a bible, and stacks of papers. He gave them a cursory glance, and saw that they contained lines from the Guidestones as well as some lines from the bible, with his

own interpretation written under each line. Frank shook his head, thinking of how much blood had been spilled over the last 2000 years, because of people's interpretation of sacred texts, which, in and of themselves, held only the best and most peacefull intentions. He put everything back and opened the bottom drawer, which appeared to be filled with receipts. Upon closer observation, he realized this was a record of the purchase of the so-called "abortion pill" from overseas, a scientfic analisis of what was contained in the drug, and receipts from on-line pharmaceutcal companies, where the had been purchasing the raw materials to make their own version of the abortion drug, in a form that could be injected or easily used to contaminate food or other medicines. Then, he read the name on the receipts.

Dr. Nicholas Stone.

"So, this is how he plans to reduce the population."

Frank muttered with disgust.

He looked up when he realized he heard footsteps approaching the office. He quickly closed the drawer and backed away, as the door knob began to turn.

(end scene 7)

(Scene 6)

"Yes, sir, Elbert county historicl center. Can I help you?" a man asked pleasantly of the person on the phone.

"Yeah, I've been on hold for about....forever," a gratey, northern accent said from the other end of the line. A sharp contrast to the laid-back southern welcome he'd just received. "I'm special agent John Doggett with the F.B.I. Are you the person I can talk to about the Guidestones? I can't seem to get a straight answer outta anybody!"

"Well, sir, what do you want to know?" returned the infuriatingly pleasant middle-aged man.

"For starters, I'd like some accurate directions. I've got a state map, and a county map, each of which have two different ideas on where the hell these Guidestones actualy are, and then, some woman in your office gives me a third set of directions, which I can't make heads or tails of!"

John began writing down directions dictated to him over the phone, while referring to his map, nodding and interjecting the occasional "uh-huh".

When he was done, the man from the historical center added

"That place has sure gotton popular here recently."

"How so?" Doggett asked.

"Well, just last week, a gentleman who'd traveled all the way from Washington state asked a bunch of questions about it, and wanted directions.....and then just this morning, there was a young couple."

John knew immediatley that the first description was of Frank, but the second one interested him. "A couple?" he asked.

"Yeah. They said they were from up your way. A tall man with dark hair, and a woman with short, red hair." He paused, realizing the man he'd been talking to had suddenly gotton very quiet. "Sir?" he said, confused. "Sir, are you still there? Sir?"

(end scene 6)

(Scene 5)

Franks red Cherokee stood out against the grey, drizzeling summer morning and the grey circle of stones as he pulled up next to the Guidestones once again.

"If you don't like the weather in Georgia, stick around. It'll change." he remembered one of the members saying, seeing Franks discomfort in the blazing heat the day before. "Not a truer word's been spoken," Frank said to himself as he turned off the windshield wiper, and watched the raindrops bead up on the glass. He got out of the Jeep and walked to the stones. He stood in the center, eyes closed, and again, the horrific image of the restrained woman, crying out and clutching her stomach came to his mind. But now, he saw something more. A slight buldge where her hands were pressed. "She was pregnant!" he thought and opened his eyes. He turned to the stones and began reading.

"Be not a cancer upon the Earth.

Leave room for nature

Leave room for nature."

Suddenly, the images became crystal clear in his mind. The struggling young mother-to-be, held by two men, while a third injected something into her arm, with Nicholas looking on, reciting "Be not a caner upon the Earth. Leave room for nature. Leave room for nature," over and over. The men dragged the limp woman away from the stones.

Frank stood and walked to the edge of the paved aria, to where he'd seen the woman dragged off in his vision. He ran his fingers along the edge, where the concrete met the grass. Finaly, he felt something metal, and picked up part of a broken needle. Suddenly, a shadow starteled him and he looked up. It was Nicholas, standing over him.

"How consderate of you, Mr. Black", he said with his usual authoritative tone. "To come here and clean up the trash left by others. Left to be a cancer on the Earth.

Frank rose, composing a lie in his head. "Yeah. Must've been left here by a some kids, shootin' up drugs or something like that."

"Or something like that," Nicholas repeated, his tone untrusting. He held his hand out to Frank. "Let me dispose of that for you. We wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

Realizing that the rain would have washed away any trace of the drug that was used, or of the womans blood, and, not wanting to arouse suspisions, he placed the broken needle into the mans outstreched hand. "Thank you, Mr. Black. I look forward to seeing you at the next meeting. At the compund. 3 p.m. sharp." Frank took the hint and nodded, then walked back to his Jeep and left.

(end scene 5)

(Scene 4)

Meanwhile, in an appartment in Washington, D.C., Frank's 12 year old daughter, Jorden, sat reading. Frank had entrusted Monica Reyas with the task of looking after Jorden while he was away. He had attempted to contact The X Files office, in hopes of finding Scully, but had discovered Monica and John Doggett instead, and The X Files division shut down. He had felt that Scully was the only woman he could trust with Jorden, since they had been in seclusion in Canada for several years. Now, he learned the Scully and Mulder had virtualy vanashed as well, and that Doggett and Reyas were attempting to get The X Files devison re-opened. After some time, Frank finaly felt comfortable enough to leave Jorden in the care of Monica, so that he could go to Georgia.

Monica was working at the computer while Jorden read. Suddenly, Jorden put the book in her lap and began staring out into space. After a minute or two, Monica glanced up from the computer and noticed her strange expression.

"What's wrong, Jorden?" she asked gently. The girl diddn't respond.

"Jorden, what's the matter?" she asked again, more insistantly.

This got her attention, and she said, "It's dad."

Monica got up from the computer and crossed the room to where she sat on the couch.

"Jorden?" she said softly, as she knelt down on the carpeted floor in from of her. "Jorden, what do you see?" The girl's vacant stare turned to Monica, and she finaly replyed.

"He's in danger," she said simply.

"Your father?" Monica asked. "What kind of danger? How do you know?"

"He just is." she answered. "You have to help him."

Something in the girl's tone made Monica's blood run cold, and she got up and went to the phone.

(end scene 4)

(Scene 3)

"The Compound", as it was called, was in an old granite quarry, which had gone out of business about 20 years earlier. The place had a mysterious quality about it. There was a row of run-down buildings that the group called home, overlooking an expanse of granite which towered rather omenously, like the walls of a fortress. The caravan of vehicles roared up, shattering the silence.

Frank got out of his Jeep and started taking in the layout of the ariea, studing the row of buildings and the sheer granite cliff. His gaze then wandered to the group of four people getting out of the old Ford Tempo, and fixed on Carrie, who met his eyes for a moment, then looked quickly away and continued to follow Brad towards the groups home.

Nicholas, the groups imposing leader, called out to Frank.

"Frank! Can I give you a hand with your luggage?" His crisp voice seemed more out-of-place than anything else in this desolate setting.

"Thanks...I think I've got it." Frank replyed matter-of-factly, pulling his one black leather back pack out of his Jeep, and swinging it over his shoulder.

"Ah-ha! A man after mt own heart", Nicholas remarked. "Never have more luggage than you can carry on your back!"

"Yeah, I try to travel lite," Frank replyed. "All the better for a quick getaway," he said, a deadpan expression on his face.

Nicholas stared at him for a moment, then laughed and gave him a friendly slap on the back. "Let me show you to your room. You got lucky. There's a room that you can have to yourself if you like, but it's in a remote part of the building."

"I'm sure I can manage," Frank replyed, and followed the young man down a series of halls, where Nicholas indicated a room off to the left. It contained a cot, a desk, a bare bulb in the celing that was the rooms only source of light, and very little else.

"Welcome home!" Nicholas said. "let me know if you need anything. I'll leave you alone to get settled in. Dinner is at 6, sharp. Again, welcome to the group!"

"Thank you", Frank replyed and walked into the room, closing the door behind him as the younger man disappeared down the hall. Frank put his back pack on the bed, and looked around the room carefully. He then went to the desk, and began opening all the drawers, and running his hands back into each drawer. In the bottom left hand drawer, his fingers touched something. He picked it up and blew the dust off. It was a gold wedding ring. By the size, it appeared to be a womans ring. He studyed it carefully, then his deep blue eyes got a rather ditant look to them, as an image flashed through his mind. He saw a woman, putting the ring in the drawer...In a safe, hidden place. He blinked and another image came to him, this time of the same woman, screaming, hands raised in a defensive posture. He put the ring in a small, plastic "zip-lock" type bag and zipped it shut, then placed it back in his back-pack. He walked to the window, and looked out towards the tall expanse of granite. In his minds eye, he saw a different scene of granite. The Guidestones. Then, flashing images of the same woman, surrounded by men, standing in the center of the Guidestones, clutching her stomach and crumpling to the ground.

At six-o-clock, Frank walked into the large room now used as a kind of mess hall. There was a stack of paper plates and several "buckets" of Kentucky Fried Chicken , as well as a cooler full of Cokes and a stack of paper plates. As he approached the table, a young man with a shaved head greeted him.

"We may live on the edge, but we still live pretty well", he said. Frank forced a smile and nodded. He then got his serving of fried chicken and a Coke and turned to find a table.

His eyes landed on Carrie with her boyfriend. Their eyes met and he saw...hopelessness, emptiness, and pain. The image of the other woman, screaming and clutching her stomach, falling to the ground came back into his mind. Carrie turned and walked away.

(end scene 3)

(Scene 2)

"Why don't you just go home?" Carrie asked herself for the hundredth time, while riding in the back seat of the brown, battered old Ford Tempo. Her boyfriend, Brad, sat with her, excitedly chatting with Carl and Wade. Carl was staring at the rear-view mirror as they talked, rather than watching the road. "He's gonna wrap us around a telephone pole one day," Carrie thought to herself, as she gazed out the filthy window at the heard of black and white cattle, grazing peacefully in a deep green pasture, surrounded by a white fence. She thought how lucky those cows were. Yes, they were imprisoned in a cage from which they would never escape, but they were totaly unaware of this fact. They were happy. "Happy," she thought. "What does that feel like?" It had been so long since she had felt anything other than numbness, interrupted sparraticly by fear, that she had started to wonder if there had ever been a time in which she had felt anything else.

"Why don't you just go HOME?" she asked herself again, then glanced at Brad, his eyes wide with excitement and enthusiasm, and remembered why.

Carrie and Brad had been inseperable as kids, and started dating as teenagers. There had never been any question in her mind that they were ment to be together. So, when he had told her about the group, and asked her to come with him to a meeting, she had never questioned it. But NOW....now she questioned a lot of things. The young man next to her, her best friend for most of her life, now seemed like a stranger to her. Her eyes wandered over him. Over the faded t-shirt and jeans that seemed to hang off his tall, lanky frame. Then to his exuberant face, and his close-cropped, millatary-style hair. That was when she first knew there was a problem. After she and Brad had attended a few meetings, each one seeming longer than the next, listening to their leader preaching for hours about Biblical scripture, and the Brave New World that would emergere after the Appocolypse, suddenly, Brad had begun sporting this new hair style. That had puzzeled and worried her at the time, since she knew how proud he was of his shoulder-length, shaggy, dark blonde hair. "Hippi-hair", her dad had called it. "The boy with the rock-star hair is here!" her dad would always say, when Brad would come to visit. Dad was always such a big tease. Carrie closed her eyes tightly, fighting off tears. She missed her dad, his jokes, as well as her mom's gentle nature. Mom had always tried to get her dad to stop teasing Brad about his hair, but she new it was all just a joke.

"Why don't you just go home?" The question kept pecking at her mind, as nagging and relentless as the sound of the dripping faucet in the bathroom nest door to her at the compound. She had thought about it endlessly, during the first few weeks. The first week had been exciting after they had left their homes and moved in at the compound. All the new people, the inspiriational speaches, the feeling of comrodery. That feeling had faded, however, when she had told Brad she wanted to call her parents and he had said,

"We don't have parents anymore. THIS is our family!" When she started to protest, he slapped her. This was not the same funny guy she had grown up with. It was as if something had taken him over. And, by taking him, they had also imprisoned her as well. "WHY diddn't she just go home?"

Because she loved him.

(end scene 2)

MillenniuM-The Guidestones (Scene 1)

A Crow, sitting attop an omenous granit structure at the top of a hill in the middle of an open field, watches as a group of a dozen or so cars paraded up the dirt road, stirring up a cloud of dirt in their wake. Disturbed by the commotion, the large, black bird flew off as the group of faded, beaten-up, late 80's model cars rumbled to a halt, parking in a haphazard fashon near the towering, out-of-place looking granit monument.

The monument that had drawn this group was composed of 4 tall, rectangular shaped granit slabs, which reached up towards the sky, and supported a smaller granit slab where the Crow had perched up untill a few moments ago. Now, the people began to spill out of their cars. Most of the group was men, between 30 & 40 years of age. There were 3 women, and a teenage boy and girl, rounding out the out-of-place looking group.

One man stode ahead of the others, about 6 feet tall, with long brown hair, and was sharply dressed in a gray cotton dress shirt and black pants. He wasn't the oldest member of the group, but he carried an air of authority about him that commanded respect. He walked into the center of the monument, standing on the smooth granit base that the 4 tall slabs seemed to rise out of, as if God himself had commanded them to. The flat top of the structure shaded him from the blazing summer sun. The man had an air of dignity about him, like he owned everyone and everything around him. Even his choice of clothes seemed an act of defiance. No-one else in the grop dared to wear anything other than tee-shirts and jeans or shorts, but he stood defiantly in his long-sleeved shirt and slacks, and seemed perfectly at ease, even in the relentless Georgia heat.

The other members of the group gathered like disiples around the outside of the stone circle, and silence blanked the hill, as the group anticipated what their leader had to say to them.

Finaly, a crisp, cultured voice broke the silence. "THE TIME IS NEAR", he said, his voice commanding such authorty that one almost expected a crack of thunder. "We have all seen the signs," he continued. "You need only to watch the nightly news to see that the signs are there. The End Is Near." There was a flurry of nods across the group, in agrement. "These stones...the Georgia Guidestones, were errected by people who saw the signs as well, but who failed to realize that man cannot just sit idly by...Man must take an active hand and SHAPE the future, not just hope that the messege in these stones alone will be enough." More grunts of agreement filterd through the crowd.

The tall man now dircted his attention to the teenage couple.

"Tody, we welcome the newest members of our group, Brad Green and Carrie Whitmire." Everyone turned and greeted the couple, shaking their hands and hugging them. When the group became silent once again, a few seconds later, he then gestured towards a middle-aged man, standing near the back of the group, with short, graying hair and expressive blue eyes. "And we give a warm welcome to Mr. Frank Black."

Ok....Going to firefox fixed that. I can see all of what you said now, but still am wondering about The Trueman Show refference.

"The Trueman Show"? I've seen the movie, but just don't get the refference.

And for some reason, half of your post seems to be cut off like it did before. (I'm on AOL, and will check this with FireFox, just in case)

But, yes, it'll be nice to relax through Christmas....

Hey, where did the X Mas emoticons go? I put the Christmas Skin, and I still don't see them.

:angrymonster: (PacMan is cool, though...lol)

I assume that word was "stalker". I can't see all of it, because, for some reason, half of the replies are getting cut off. I thought it was fixed, but it seems it was not.

Gonna try another tactic tomarrow.

Sombody needs a ((((((HUG))))))

Awwwwwwwwww.............

Thank you!

Graham,

Thanks!

Ever just have one of those days...? Well, I've had one of those days for about 30 years.

Thankfully, my Terry will be here within a week....so I'll get that great big hug from him!

Oh, and I can feel yours, even from this far away...

Thanks, my friend!

Where did you say you were in North Carolina? What's it like up there? I'm sick of the heat and the overpopulation here in Georgia.

Wish those of us who are obviously more compatable could get together!

We'd take over the world! LOL

Erin you are really finding the path Alex talked about ... be proud!

... and please, keep writing!!

fantastic!!

Bonnie

I don't know about the "path". Most days I feel stuck in the starting gate, with a blindfold over my eyes.

Thanks for the encouragement about the story/autobiography. I've been meaning to get back to it. Just been overwhelmed with too much energy-draining stresses lately.

https://willmaster.com/numerology/

Maybe yours will make more sense. Haahaa... If I was HALF that ambitious, I'd be freakin' RICH!

Awwww.....

Just keep that house in mind and plan for the future. That's a great goal!

have you ever read a lemon?

heh... Now THERE is passion...

Kath

Brings tears to my eyes every time. Oh, wait. That's onions.

Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it... smoking.gif

Ahhh... true... so very true.

I ment no offence. Just overwhelmed with the passion of your words.

I hear ya'. I haven't been giving out my gmail address to just anybody. As far as hotmail, sometimes it just seems to have some kind of internet version of PMS. It's been ok lately, though. Are you still having trouble?

I agree with a lot of what Kath said. Your husband might be trying to create conflict, and yet, he may also simply be enjoying time with his little girl. This is when you've gotta trust your gut instinct. Kath's suggestion about agreeing to one week, but that's all, is excellent. This not only sends a message to your daughter that you're not an overprotective oger, it also sends a message to your ex that you are flexable, but NOT a pushover.

As far as the guy thing goes... (& LOL to the comment about the good ones being in other countries.... married... both... hmmm) all I can say is this. Finding the RIGHT ONE has been a goal of mine since I was, oh... I don't know... TWELVE??? I'm serious. I NEVER liked the dating around, spreading my wild oats thing. Even on the RARE occasion that I was lucky enough to have more than one man to go out with, it just wasn't any fun. I was a born wife. And, it took me focusing on finding "the one" untill I was 30 to find someone. My advice is this.... NEVER lower your standards. If you lower anything, let it be your expectation of where you're gonna meet this guy. I never thought I'd find someone not in this state. Think about it... I'm a disabled woman, having to live with my parents because I can't get a conventional "job".... I never drive or go anywhere.... and yet I met someone. HOW? The internet!!! I SWORE I'd never date a guy off the internet. 3 words. "Never say Never".

BTW... love the name "Nermal" for your cat. Where'd you come up with such a cute name?

I usualy stay out of polictical/religious discussions, because it all pisses me off so much I'll make an ass out of myself, but all I can say right now is "Oy".

Glad you've got a place to get this outta your system, kath. Lova ya'!