Between Friends

“Help!” She cried, panting.

“Somebody please…”

Her voice faded as she fell to the ground, breathless. A shadow swept over her, dark and menacing. A sneer curled across his face.

“You thought you could escape? No one gets away, not until we’re finished with them.”

She got up and tried to run, but her body was too weak, he caught her easily and injected her neck with a syringe.

“Somebody...please...help…me….” She gasped again before her world finally went black.

The man dropped her unconscious body, but a second man caught her before she hit the ground.

“Michael Taylor, Drama Queen.”

Michael turned around angrily.

“I didn’t ask you to come, you-“

“Now, now, let’s not say anything we might regret.” The second man taunted, carrying the girl’s unconscious body.

“Damn it, Sam, you-“

“I can’t hearr youuu.” Taunted Sam, who had wandered a short way away to a black car.

Michael got the keys to the car out of his jacket pocket and threw them towards Sam, who side-stepped, allowing the keys to hit the sleek car, leaving an ugly streak of silver through the black above the passenger side window.

Sam winced. “Oooooo, looks like jagged metal objects and new paintjobs don’t mix. Smooth move, Mikey.”

Michael jogged over. “My car! Dammit, Sam!”

Michael picked the keys up off the ground and inspected the scratch. Deciding that there was nothing he could do for the moment, he sighed and unlocked the car. Sam secured the girl into the back seat and then opened the passenger side door. With that, the two began the drive back. Michael and Sam were working for an agency charged with the protection of mythical creatures, or POMC. The company studies creatures of mythical origin in order to better understand the charge they have to undertake. They work for the ‘capture and return’ branch of POMC. No, scratch that, They ARE the ‘capture and return’ part of POMC. Michael stands about six foot, with short blond hair. He’s lean and fairly muscular. Whereas, Sam is about 5’6 with unkept brown hair. Sam is tall and awkward, and barely looks as though he could hurt anything let alone make a living out of it. Sam views the whole job as a big fun joke, and Michael often gets onto him about not taking his responsibilities seriously. Fortunately POMC runs a pretty tight ship and very few creatures ever escape. As the black car pulled into the garage below the POMC headquarters, a young redheaded woman with a cross-expression came out to meet them. Sam jumped out of the car and waved at the redhead. Michael went over to greet her, leaving Sam to get the unconscious girl from the back seat.

“Hey Becky, We’re back.”

I can see that. You’re also two hours late. What’s your excuse this time?”

Sam kicked the car door closed. “She panicked, started randomizing.”

Becky sighed. “And…?”

Michael shook his head, "She got lucky, blew up a good portion of the alley behind the mall. She teleported out. We found her running down the side street next to the dock.”

“She was heading to the ocean?”

Sam looked down at the girl forlornly. “If she hadn’t run out of teleports…”

Becky’s expression hardened. “Just get her down to the infirmary. You guys aren’t exactly known for being easy on the escapers.”

Sam carried the girl through a doorway behind Becky. When they knew that Sam was out of earshot, Michael looked at Becky.

“There’s something that you’re not telling me.”

“Whatever gives you that impression?”

He looked at her sternly. She returned the expression.

“Take it up with Davis.”

Davis, full name Mark Davidson, was the head of the whole operation, if there was something you needed to know or complain about, he was the one to go to.

Michael shook his head. “If there’s something that you’re not telling me, I bet Davis has no idea. What are you hiding?”

Becky shook her head and walked back into the building. Michael followed after her. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. Her eyes were blazing.

“Dammit, Mike. You just can’t just leave well enough alone, can you? It doesn’t concern yo-“ A look of realization crossed over her face and she clutched her forehead. “I wish it didn’t concern you. It…I…” She looked down the hall.

Mike let go of her and took a step back, crossing his arms. “Something's happened with Sam? What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Look, Michael, it’s natural that you worry about him, you two have been partners a long time and-“

“You never call me Michael. Now Becky, stop avoiding the damn question.”

She looked around the hall and talked in a hushed and hurried voice.

“You know Jen? The new lab chick?”

“Yeah?”

“Well, remember how she was testing the new equipment? She took some of Sam’s blood as a test subject." She paused at Mike's suspicious expression.  "Stop giving me that look, he knew. But…she found something…he’s…Mike, he’s not human.”

“What?”

“We don’t…know...what he is, we think he’s a…demon…maybe half-demon.”

“What?”

“We’re doing more tests on that blood sample. We…we…we’re trying, Mike.”

“Trying to do what? Fix it? The lab equipment’s faulty. There’s no way he’s a demon. Demon’s are monsters and....and they NEVER look…look…human…they…he isn’t, he just can’t be.”

“Look, Mike, I know. Okay? I know how you feel, but there’s overwhelming evidence.”

“What? One blood sample is overwhelming evidence now? We can't turn him in, Davis will just see him as another test subject. Forget that he’s been working here for five years. Forget that he’s a loyal employee and has helped this damned company since its beginning.”

“We’re trying to keep it from him until we know for sure.”

“Thank God.”


Michael wandered down the hall until he saw Sam reading at the table in the employee lounge. Michael sat down across from him and Sam dropped the book.

“Something’s wrong.”

“Why do you say that?”

Sam extended his right arm. “Hello, guy who I’ve been working with for five years, I’m your best friend.”

Michael looked back towards the doorway.

“And now you’re not making eye contact with me. Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

Michael sighed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not…important.”

“If it wasn’t important, you wouldn’t be obsessing.”

“I’m not obsessing!”

“And you’re pissy.” Sam noted with a nod of his head.

Michael took a deep breath. “God. Alright, you need to know.” He turned and finally made eye contact with Sam. “We know.”

“That...?”

“That you’re a demon.”

“That I’m what now?”

“A demon.”

Pure confusion clouded Sam’s face. “Are you alright? You’re a little pale…and delusional.”

Now it was Michael’s turn to look confused. “You…wait...you...don’t…know?”

“I think you should lie down.”

Michael stood up stiffly. “I’ve got to go get Becky.”

As Michael stood up to leave the room, another figure blocked his way. This figure was a few pounds heavier and several inches shorter. Davis.

“I heard there was a problem with Sam’s blood test.”

Michael backed away from the door, standing between Davis and Sam.

“And that we have a new subject that I wasn’t to be informed about?”

Michael snarled. “How did you find out?”

“A few well placed dollars in the direction of Ms. Jen’s bank account.”

“That bitch!”

“Come now, you know the conditions. The subjects are all very comfortable.”

Sam stood up. “What the hell is going on? Since when am I a ‘subject’? What was wrong with my blood test?”

Michael pulled his gun out of coat pocket and pointed it directly at Davis’ forehead. Grabbing the collar of Sam’s shirt, Michael propelled him out the door past Davis. Keeping his gun trained on Davis’ head, he pulled out a syringe and injected the older man with a sedative. Davis wavered for a few seconds before falling to the ground. Sam was standing in the doorway just gaping at Michael. Mike had always been the calm one, not a man to act on impulse. Michael put the gun back into his coat pocket.

“Come on. We’ve got to get out of here.”

As they got into the black car, Michael called Becky on his cell phone. He explained that Davis had found out about the blood tests and how. Becky swore revenge. As Michael started up the car, Sam pushed open his door.

“What?”

“I’ve got to go…do something.”

Michael wanted to scream at him, but there was no time for arguing. “Well, hurry," He said impatiently before adding "And be careful. Don’t get caught.”

“I swear it'll be fine, I’ll be right back.”

Five minutes later, Sam returned to the car with the same girl they had caught that morning. Michael stared wide-eyed at him.

“WHAT are you doing?!”

“Just trust me, alright? She needs to go to the ocean.”

“The ocean?”
“Remember? This morning she was running toward the water. I figured out why.”

Michael sighed. They couldn’t waste any more time returning her to her cell, so he’d have to play along. He steered the car out of the garage and headed toward the water.

“Fine, fine. I know you're dying to share your epiphany. Why are we taking the girl to the docks?”

“She’s a water sprite.”

“Uh-huh.”

“A water sprite" Sam repeated, sounding secure in his own brilliance "often takes on the form of a woman to walk amongst mortals.” He explained excitedly.

“Uh-huh.”

“So, she needs to get to the water or she’ll die.”

Michael glanced at him bemusedly. “You just risked your life to go in and grab an unconscious body so we can dump it in the ocean?”

“Well, if you want to word it that way.”

“Right, well, as long as it doesn’t slow us down any more.”

“She won’t. Just a couple minutes. Please?”

Michael shook his head. “I swear, sometimes you remind me of the biggest puppy on earth.”

The two drove to the ocean and Sam gently coaxed the girl awake. The traquilizers from the lab kept her mostly unconscious until she reached the water's edge.  As soon as she felt the water touch her skin, she jolted awake. She took a deep breath and looked back at the guys. Sam nodded in an effort to explain that they weren’t tricking her, taunting her with freedom. She looked at the ocean and then back at them once more and then dove into the water. No regard for anything else. She disappeared beneath the waves and the two ex-federal agents headed back to their car. After that, no one knows what happened to them. Except, maybe, a young redheaded woman who happens to head a small organization called POMC.