Spaghetti Invasion

Out of the Ashes

Shadow's motorcycle roared through the ash that covered the ground, ashes that seemed to stretch endlessly over the rolling hills of Tweed. All vegetation had been incinerated, leaving only blackened trunks of trees to stick out of the grey ground at regular intervals. Everything but stone or brick buildings had been leveled.

There were almost no animals. Any wildlife that survived the attacks had fled to far greener pastures. Livestock stayed inside to munch hay and grain flown in by the government. Not even dogs or cats dared the devastation that was Tweed for very long.

The people, resilient as ever, occasionally popped out of what appeared to be holes in the ground, staying out only long enough to stare at the helmeted motorcycle rider. Orange flames painted on that helmet seemed to mock their plight.  The rider was glaringly out of place against the colorless, barren landscape.

A solitary building rose up against the bald skyline, incongruous with the blank-slate landscape. Shadow made for the building, coasting to give her machine time to slow and then stop before it. She tried not to stare.

Made of native stone, the building was a mere shell of what it had been built to be. Aside from the slate roof and heavy stone walls, nothing else of it existed. Wind whistled through windows devoid of any frame or glass. A man leaned against an empty doorway, surrounded by some half-dozen dogs.

Just before the motorcycle drifted to a halt, Shadow leaped from the seat, mentally ordering it to halt. A pneumatic kick stand dropped to hold the bike steady. Shadow plucked off her helmet. "Declan Miller?" she asked in her best bureaucratic voice.

"Depends on who's askin', Miss," the man drawled, his voice reflecting Scottish roots. "Declan Miller don't exactly encourage company." His tone wasn't unfriendly, exactly, but Shadow understood that he didn't intend on asking her to stay.

Shadow opened her mouth to give him her cover story, an artful fiction about a non-existent census. "Thank you, Phoenix." She clapped her hand over her mouth, surprised by the truth that tumbled out.

"I heard you the first time, Shadow." He seemed amused. "Ye are, however, most welcome. Tell me now, didja' come all this way to tell me that?"

For the first time in her career, Shadow didn't know what to say. "I, um, I guess I did."

Her gaze fell on the smallest of the dogs. It was a deep purple color, but for some reason, her brain failed to register the color as unusual. What did register was the bit of metal wedged between two of its razor-edged teeth. The dog was trying with all its might to dislodge the shard,using a long, slender tongue without success.

"You know your dog has something stuck in its teeth?" she asked instead.

"I know." Declan Miller's voice was sharp. He grimaced and held out one hand so Shadow could see the pronounced tremor that had prevented him from taking care of the problem himself.

Shadow reached into her back pocket for her all-in-one. "I can take care of that, if you want."

"I'd like that; thank ye, Shadow." He smiled at her.

Shadow realized that she really liked his smile. She snapped open the pliers from her all-in-one and approached the dog gingerly. "Watch the tail," Declan warned. "They've a really strong swing."

Shadow eyed the alligator-like tail and nodded. "Thanks for the warning. Hold still, Fella'. I'm only trying to help."

As if it understood, the dog stood stock still, holding its mouth partway open so she could reach. As she studied it, it appeared as if the metal had grown down into the animal's gums.