Twinepathy (Part 1): The Beginning

Hullo, everyone! Here’s that surprise I mentioned yesterday. It’s been over a month since the end of Avengers’ Isle, which was a ton of fun, and it seemed like all of you enjoyed it, too. Rather than start a sequel (which I was tempted to do after watching Age of Ultron), I decided to take a story I was planning and turn it into a serial story for your enjoyment. I present to you part one of Twinepathy. Enjoy, my dear friends! If you like it, share!

Note from future C.B.: Instead of clicking through all these parts, you can find the full novel on Amazon now! You can also find the paperback on Barnes and Noble online.

Hello, my name is Albany, and I have a telepathic connection with my twin sister, along with the ability to read minds.

Well, that may not be the best start, but I’m pretty proud of it. It makes this sound like it’s going to be an awesome story. Which it is. But the beginning… well… I promise it’ll get more exciting than this.

“Go fish.”

Denver, my older brother, moaned and drew a card from the small stack. “How can you guys beat me at everything?”

Brooklyn, twin sister extraordinaire and social butterfly, gives him a mischievous grin. “You’re just too obvious.”

Denver gives me a helpless look, and I shrug. “I’m losing, too.”

“And if I win…” Brooklyn studies her hand. “You have to treat me to dinner, Denver.”

He makes a moaning sound. “Okay, fine. But not tonight. You know I’ve got a date.”

Brooklyn makes a face. If there’s one thing she dislikes, it’s Denver dating. She would definitely prefer to only have to share him with me and Mom and Dad. It doesn’t matter to her that Ezra’s a sweet, slightly awkward girl that Denver’s gone head over heels for. It also doesn’t matter to her that she hardly does anything with him, anyway… but I digress.

“Two,” Brooklyn says to me. I mutter something under my breath and hand a card to her. She sniffs the air. “Your cookies are burning.”

I fly into the kitchen. I’m no cook, but I had to try the bacon cookie recipe I found. I mean, hello, bacon and cookies! My two favorite foods just have to be amazing together. I should’ve known I’d burn them. I can’t cook anything.

I pull out the extra crispy cookies just as the doorbell rings. “You should get that while you’re up,” Denver calls. I roll my eyes. I’ll be he and Brooklyn are laughing. I hate checking the door. Technically, since Mom and Dad aren’t here – they’re on a date – Denver should answer the door, since he’s the oldest. But of course they’ll make me do it. I check the cookies. Yep, they’re burnt enough that no one will want to eat them, not even me. I’ll have to beg Mom to try the recipe for me. What a waste of bacon and cookie. I sigh and wipe my hands on a towel before heading to the door.

I peer out the peephole and don’t see anything until I look down. There, on our doorstep, is a little girl in a ratty red dress, hair tangled and face smudged. She looks around eight years old, maybe a little less. I send a mental image of her to Brooklyn before opening the door.

“Hello,” I say, gazing at her. I notices she’s not wearing shoes, and her dress looks fairly new, just dirty and torn. “Who are you?”

She looks up at me with haunting blue eyes – hollow, scared, lost. Her mouth opens, as if she’s going to speak, but an odd expression crosses her face. She wobbles, then crumples to the ground, out cold.

Well, what do you think so far? Thoughts, comments? Comment below! Your comment could be the difference between the continuation of this series… and the end. No pressure…

Next Post –>

Insanity – Part Two

The continuation and completion of the insane story. Part One. Let me know what you think of this… entertaining story. 😀

Douglas arrived at Door C at about the same time as two other agents, both tough-looking older agents. They nodded at Douglas, and he nodded back, feeling awkward. What was Halloway thinking, sending him, a twenty-eight-year-old agent fresh out of training, out to rescue his brother with two older agents who looked like they’d never felt an emotion in their life? He sighed and followed the other agents outside where a black sedan was waiting for them.

The drive out to the mountain where Mac was hiding out was a long one. Douglas’s ride was probably the most uncomfortable of all of them. The driver had piles of papers and his laptop in the passenger seat, so the three agents had to squeeze in the backseat, and Douglas was sandwiched in between the two burly agents. He couldn’t even move his arms. Very uncomfortable.

After forty-five minutes in their squished positions, they finally reached the mountain. They were nearing the cabin when the driver pulled off of the road into the trees. “The cabin’s just a short ways up the road and down a trail on the right. You’ll see it,” the driver told them, consulting his GPS. He nodded at them and they scooted out of the car.

Douglas waited for the other two agents to lead the way, but they just stood there, looking at him. He looked from one to the other, confused.

They quickly caught on to his confusion. “You’re the leader, Agent Jackson,” one of them explained.

“Me?” Douglas asked, astonished.

The other agent nodded. “Yeah. We’re just here as back up, to make sure Mac comes with us,” he told Douglas. “You get the kid, we get the ‘napper.” The agent guffawed.

Douglas gulped and led the way down the road. They quickly found the trail the driver had mentioned and headed down it. The going was rough, since the trail was overgrown and not clearly marked. Luckily, it was short, and they soon reached the clearing. The three agents ducked behind the trees to study it.

An ancient-looking cabin stood in the middle of the clearing, almost built into the side of the mountain. It looked almost as old as the mountain itself, but surprisingly it still stood solidly. The door hung slightly ajar, and both of the windows were open.

“Do you think he could have known we were coming and escaped?” one of the agents asked.

Douglas shrugged. “I don’t know. There’s only one way to find out.”

The agents looked surprised. “You’re going in?” one asked.

Douglas nodded, keeping his eye on the cabin. “You stay here and cover me. Watch the door and both the windows.”

“And if Mac’s in there?” one of the agents asked.

Douglas smiled grimly. “Then I’ll just have to take a chance and try to reason with him,” he said. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head, and he bent down and picked up a stick. “I can throw this out one of the windows or the door if I need help.”

The other two agents nodded their approval, and Douglas began to head towards the cabin. He moved cautiously, and it was a matter of minutes before he crept silently onto the porch. His hands clenched his pistol, ready at a moment’s notice. He reached the door, nudged it open with his foot, and slipped into the cabin, pistol ready.

The cabin was only one room, and it was sparsely furnished. There was a fairly nice kitchen in one corner, complete with a dining table and a pair of chairs. The other half of the cabin held a cot and two chairs. Tied to one of these chairs was Harold.

Douglas nearly shouted with excitement, but contained his joy and rushed over to his brother. By this time, his brother had noticed him, and a spark of hope was in his eyes. Douglas untied his brother’s gag and pulled out his own pocketknife to cut the ropes tying Harold to the chair. As soon as his brother was free and his wrists and ankles loosed, Douglas enveloped his brother in a tight bear hug.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be kidnapped by a nutball,” Harold murmured as he rubbed his raw wrists after their embrace.

Douglas laughed. “You’re right, I don’t know, and I’m glad.” Shouting outside interrupted their reunion and caused them both to listen.

“That sounds like Mac,” Harold said. The brothers rushed to the door.

The other two agents each had the arm of the man from the picture Agent Halloway had sent Douglas. The man was fighting the agents furiously, kicking and howling like a spoiled child throwing a temper tantrum. The two agents had him secured, but he continued to struggle and make as much noise as possible.

Douglas led Harold out of the cabin. Mac’s eyes grew fiery with rage and he struggled even harder.

“Agent Jackson, do I have your permission to knock him out so he’ll come with us quietly?” one of the agents asked Douglas impatiently.

Harold laughed. “All you need is food, and he’ll follow you like a puppy.”

An idea struck Douglas. “Wait,” he said, digging in his pocket. He pulled out the plastic bag that he’d put the bacon in that morning. It was a little smashed, but it still looked pretty appetizing. Mac’s eyes lit up greedily when he saw it, and he stopped struggling, focused only on the bacon.

“I’ll give it to you if you come with us quietly,” Douglas promised.

Mac nodded hungrily and followed the two agents docilely, even with his hands cuffed. Harold walked next to Douglas, who slipped the bacon back in his pocket.

“You’ve started carrying bacon with you in your pocket?” Harold asked teasingly.

Douglas grinned. “It was supposed to be a snack in case I didn’t get lunch.”

Harold smiled. “Well, I guess I’m lucky that I’ve got a big brother in the FBI, huh?”

Douglas laughed, putting his arm over his brother’s shoulders. “You sure are, Harold. You sure are.”