|Trespasser: New Beginnings - Prologue
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|Author:||Sk8er [ Tue Jun 03, 2003 10:20 pm ]|
|Post subject:||Trespasser: New Beginnings - Prologue|
Here it is! Enjoy!
Trespasser: New Beginnings
Rain. Iâ€™m tired of it.
Anne Jones turned away from her apartmentâ€™s kitchen window. The rain outside was coming down harder now, unstopping after hours of gray. Now that it was nearly nine p.m., the rain above her window was invisible in the closing darkness of the night.
She walks across the tile of the kitchen floor in socks, to the refrigerator. She turns around, her hand on the handle, and stares out over the island in the center of the kitchen to her front living room. She can see her friendâ€™s head barely rising above the back of the couch. Anne asks, â€œJill, you want a beer?â€
â€œNah, Iâ€™m fine,â€ Jill Truman replies.
Anne turns away, opening the fridge door. She whispers to herself, as she reaches inside for a beer for herself, â€œOk then, Iâ€™ll have your later.â€
She pulls out the beer, letting the fridge door close by itself. She pops open the top, and takes a short swig. The thirty-four year old, brown-haired woman throws the cap into the trashcan and walks out of the kitchen to join Jill in the living room. She moves around the couch, where Jill sits up, smiling.
Jill Truman is thirty-two, her blonde hair making men watch her in a gawking manner whenever she goes out. She met Jill in high school, a little over nineteen years earlier. Since then the two had grown to be pals, and then best friends. For the past two and a half years, Jill had been living down another block, where she too lived in an apartment. Tonight was one of her â€œcheck-inâ€ nights with Anne, who rarely ever went out on dates, and when she did, it always turned into disaster. Two or three days a week Jill would come over to hang out will Anne, on a night she herself wasnâ€™t out on a date.
Anne takes another swig of her beer bottle, and realizes sheâ€™s finished it. She sets it down on the coffee table, and glances at the television, beginning to reach for the remote to turn up the volume. Jill cuts in saying, â€œI flipped through that book of yours.â€
Jill slides a book off of the coffee table, that Anne sees is resting on a magazine. Jill flips it over in her hands, and reads the title aloud. â€œThe Miracle of InGen.â€
â€œOh, that book. Yeah, I bought it several days after watching that speech on TV.â€
â€œAbout the dinosaurs?â€
Anne nods. â€œThat Hammond guy talked about InGenâ€™s goal to bio-engineer dinosaurs. He also talked about that one, um, Tyrannosaurus that was rampaging through San Diego. Stuff about Site B.â€
â€œAh, gotcha. I remember hearing about all that on CNN or somethingâ€¦ Big story, too.â€
Anne nods again.
Jill says, â€œBut the bookâ€¦â€
â€œYeah,â€ Anne says. â€œHammond wrote that after the incident. It goes on about his first ideas for it all, through the time he founded InGen. Then he created Jurassic Park, as well as Site B. A lot to read, but interesting.â€
â€œWhat is it?â€
â€œWouldnâ€™t it be fascinating to see something like that?â€
â€œDinosaurs Anne. Live, breathing, real dinosaurs! I mean, that would be amazing. But instead of time-travel, you get them brought to you.â€
â€œYes, but you wouldnâ€™t want to get face to face with one ofâ€”â€œ Anne grabs the book from Jill, and flips through several pages until she finds the right page. â€œâ€”these.â€
â€œItâ€™s a Velociraptor.â€ Jill slowly takes the book from Anneâ€™s hands, staring wide-eyed at the black and white image of the dinosaur. It was a side view, and it was snarling, itâ€™s hind leg, armed with a vicious sickle-like claw, raised up. A caption below read:
Velociraptor. A small theropod native to China and Mongolia. Pack-hunter, quite vicious, and quite intelligent.
Anne says, â€œIt goes a little more in detail on the following pages about the raptors and InGenâ€™s plans for them on the island.â€
Jill gazed at the sickle claws on each foot. â€œThose things look like theyâ€™d hurt.â€
â€œYes. While they were building the park there were some accidents and fatalities due to the raptors. They easily slashed open workersâ€™ chests, arms, you name it. These things were smart, ferocious. Makes you think twice if you really want to go to this island or not. He said that the park warden, Robert Muldoon, had the wisest answer: Kill them all. But Hammond didnâ€™t listen.â€
â€œJeez,â€ Jill whispered again.
â€œWell, letâ€™s get off the topic of dinosaurs.â€
â€œYouâ€™re right,â€ Jill says, closing the book and setting it back down on the coffee table. On the television, a commercial for a fast food restaurant ends, silently. The volume is still off. Jill says, â€œSo howâ€™s Mark?â€
â€œOh my God Anne. Not again.â€
â€œOh, that Mark. Yeah, well, uhâ€”â€œ
â€œAnne, I do my best to hook you up, but you donâ€™t even let things flow.â€
â€œJeez Anne,â€ Jill says. â€œI think, if you want to get away before I try to hook you up again, you should go on a vacation or something.â€
â€œNo Anne, Iâ€™m serious.â€ Jill starts to get up. â€œYou need to get away for awhile. Take a cruise, or something. Go to Hawaii, or Jamaicaâ€¦ Or, I know, Costa Ricaâ€¦â€
Anne stares blankly.
Jill laughs. â€œAnne, you know Iâ€™m right. Just get a break, for a week. Itâ€™ll be good for you.â€
â€œJill,â€ Anne smiles, shaking her head. â€œWhat am I going to do with you?â€ She stops, getting up and walking around the couch to the door, where Jill is starting to walk as well. Jill turns around, and they face each other. Anne says, â€œI guess youâ€™re right. Iâ€™ll just take a trip, for a few days. Just to get away, nothing else. â€œ
â€œHey,â€ Jill laughs. â€œIt was your momâ€™s idea, after all.â€
â€œOh my God,â€ Anne says, throwing up her arms as she rolls her eyes. â€œI donâ€™t think sheâ€™s serious, but I think she may be right. Call her.â€
â€œFine, fine.â€ Anne pens the door, and Jill steps out into the hall.
â€œSee you later Anne,â€ Jill says, waving as she walks away.
Anne leans out, calling, â€œGood-bye!â€ She turns around, closing the door, and immediately goes for the phone. She glances at the clock: 9:47.
She dials, and hears ringing. After two rings, a female voice asks, â€œHello?â€
â€œMom? Itâ€™s Anne.â€
â€œAnne, how are you?â€
â€œFine mom, you?â€
â€œNever better,â€ she chuckles.
â€œListen,â€ Anne says, â€œJill just said you mentioned I should go on a vacation somewhere. She didnâ€™t know if you were serious or not, butâ€”â€œ
â€œI was dear.â€
â€œYes honey. You really need one. I think it would be good for you.â€
Anne nods, sighing. â€œRight mom.â€
â€œIâ€™ll sleep on it.â€
â€œGood night mom. Love you.â€
â€œLove you too honey.â€
â€œTell dad I said hi!â€
â€œBye now, take care. And be sure to call when you get back. Fill us in on all the details.â€
â€œI will mom.â€ With that, she hung up the phone.
She walked over to the coffee table, grabbing the remote. She turned the television off, grabbing her empty beer bottle. She returned to the kitchen, were she threw it away, and for no real reason at all, rinsed her hands.
As she dried her hands, she muttered, â€œVacation. I donâ€™t need one. Well, then againâ€¦ Maybe I do. Ah, I donâ€™t know! Jill and momâ€¦ Why do they think I need a vacation?â€
She walks out of the kitchen, glancing at the phone near the door, and shakes her head. She moves past the couch, pushing open the door to her bathroom. She flicks on the light, and grabs her toothbrush, lathering it with a squirt of toothpaste. She looks up in the mirror, and begins to wash.
I donâ€™t need a vacationâ€¦ I do need a vacationâ€¦ I donâ€™tâ€¦ I doâ€¦ I donâ€™tâ€¦ I do.
Anne spits, rinsing the sink and toothbrush under running water, and sets down the brush before turning off the light. She begins to walk over to the phone once more, when she stops herself, and turns on her heels in the carpeted floor.
â€œNo, I donâ€™t.â€
She walks past the bathroom to another door leading to her bedroom. She walks in, not bothering to turn on any light. Leaving her socks on, she removes her shorts, feeling the cold air begin to press on her bare thighs.
In her shirt, socks, and underpants, Anne slips into bed, feeling the slight chill of the blanket against her skin begin to fade away. She closes her eyes, and begins to go to sleep.
I need a vacation.
Anneâ€™s eyes flutter open, and she throws off the covers. She gets up, grabbing her shorts off the floor, and sets them on the bed. She continues walking into the living room, past the couch, past the kitchen, until she reaches the phone. She slides a drawer open underneath it, and pulls out the phone book.
â€œOk vacation,â€ she whispers. â€œHere I come.â€
She sets down the open phonebook, and begins to dial the number at the airport.
Fifteen minutes later, Anne opens a suitcase and sets it down on the bed next to her shorts. She folds them up, throwing them in, and steps around the bed to her dresser. She pulls out several pairs of shorts and shirts, as well as socks and underpants.
She closes what open drawers she has left open, and looks down at the bed, were the clothes are messily strewn. She begins folding and piling them, and then placing them inside the suitcase. She nods once sheâ€™s done, and slides open the door to her closet.
She files through the hanging clothes, and pulls out a pair of jeans and sweatpants. She slides the door closed, and folds the pants, placing them into the suitcase.
She leaves the room, returning several minutes later carrying a ziploc bag containing her slowly drying toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, a brush, and little hand-wipe pouches. She zips it up, throwing it into her suitcase.
I donâ€™t need a vacation.
â€œYes, I do!â€ She closes the suitcase, quickly zipping it up. She drops it on the floor beside her bed, and slips herself back into the covers.
Jill Truman unlocks the door to her apartment, slipping her coat off and hanging it up on the stand next to the door. She twirls her keys as she walks away, kicking the door closed behind her with her foot. She plops down on the couch, removing her shoes, and turns on the television.
She had gone for lunch alone, all day wondering what Anne was going to do about a vacation; sometimes laughing to herself at the thought.
Jill looks at the digital clock set up next to the television: 5:34 p.m.
I should call her.
She gets up, walking to the phone. She pushes away a paper resting on top of it, and dials in Anneâ€™s number. She twists the chord in her fingers as she listens to it ring.
Finally: â€œHey, this is Anne! Iâ€™m not home right now, so just leave me a message and Iâ€™ll try and get back to you as soon as I can.â€
Jill smiles to herself, and says: â€œAnne? Anne are you there? It's Jill, pick up the phone! God, don't tell me your mom was serious? You're in Costa Rica? Visiting the natives huh? Sun, sand and adventure, my little Indiana Anne world traveler extraordinary. Well give me a call when you get back, okay? By the way, I thought you hated flying?â€
She laughs, setting down the phone. Thereâ€™s no way Anne wouldâ€™ve gone.
No way at all.
|Author:||Rebel [ Tue Jun 03, 2003 10:33 pm ]|
Good start, Sk8er. Hope you keep the comin' snipets of chapters modest in size too, so my eyes can handle it.
|Author:||Sk8er [ Tue Jun 03, 2003 10:35 pm ]|
Thanks Rebel. So far all the chapters that I've written are around this length.
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