The Traveling Story - Season 1 - Episode 4

OMG IT'S FINALLY HAPPENING!!!!!!

What is The Traveling Story?

5 Authors. 5 Days. 1 Story.

Each season of The Traveling Story will feature 5 well-known authors collaborating on one original, kick-ass story, with each author writing one of five episodes.

The full story will be revealed over the course of a week, with each episode appearing on the blog of the author who wrote it.

How Does It Work?

There are three rules for The Traveling Story:

1) No brainstorming, outlining, or discussion of plot ahead of time. The first author writes the first episode of ANY kind of story they want and the next author picks up where that episode leaves off, taking it WHEREVER they want to go! The last author ends the story however they see fit!

2) An author cannot make changes to any previous episode. Each author has total creative control over their OWN episode only, but it has to continue where the last episode leaves off.

3) HAVE FUN! As you’ll see from the awesome story that came out of this, we don’t take ourselves too seriously! The Traveling Story is meant to be fun for the writers but especially for the readers!

Season 1 Authors

Jessica Brody

Jessica Khoury

Emmy Laybourne

Lish McBride

Gretchen McNeil

*Don’t forget to LIKE The Traveling Story on Facebook where we’ll be posting links to EVERY episode, so you never miss out on a piece of the story!

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Episode 4

by Gretchen McNeil

It had taken me all of thirty seconds to figure out what was going on.  Dreamy British boy, ludicrous code names, sonic booms with no sign of an explosion, and now Rasul and Cindy, so conveniently on the scene with story exposition?  There was only one explanation.

I had stumbled into one of those designer role playing games.

Colossal misinterpretation of information, it turns out.  But could you blame me?  It was the only logical solution at the time.

I mean, come on.  Was I really supposed to believe that dimension-shifting lizard people were planning an invasion of Manhattan?  Did I just get off the bus?  What were you going to lay on me next: faked moon landing? FEMA death camps?  Mind control radio waves transmitted through cell phone towers?

Okay, that last one might be true.  But whatever.  Moving on.

Lizard aliens attempting to breed with Belieber-age human girls is just a wee bit fantastical.  Besides, Rasul and Cindy – and especially Mr. Dreamypants – were all too perfectly cast, too ready and willing to spill their stories of alien abduction and government conspiracies to a seventeen year old they'd just met over a greasy pie and a round of ice water.  The hot British spy, the Arab, the salty Asian girl – all perfectly coiffed and perfectly cast and perfectly coached on their lines.  Rasul even looked vaguely familiar.   I bet I'd seen him on T.V., playing a stereotypical terrorist on the millionth episode of Law and Order. 

So this is where out of work actors came to die.

A moment of guilt washed over me.  Back at Java the Hut, some stuffy middle-aged woman was probably sitting at a corner table, bewildered, wondering whether or not the bespectacled brunette who'd claimed to be Hilda Otterbum was actually part of the game.  Her stockbroker husband had most likely given her this custom sci fi RPG as an anniversary present – something to spice up the monotony of her life.  And I'd just ruined it all by throwing myself at Dreamypants.

Right.  My future ex-boyfriend.  A struggling actor in New York, which made perfect sense with those chiseled good looks and Royal Shakespearian accent.  He was bound to show up in the story line again.  I just needed to play along until he did.

"Well?" Cindy asked impatiently.  She was bouncing up and down in the booth again, like some six year old hopped up on pixy sticks. "We're waiting."

A look of confusion must have passed over my face, because Rasul stepped in to prompt me.  "You said you had a plan?"

"Right."  The game must go on.  We were probably on a timeline. "A plan."  

Cindy and Rasul stared at me; the former with a look of challenge and skepticism, the latter with something akin to hope, as if I was supposed to be their savior.  My brain raced.  Clearly there was some sort of script I was supposed to be following, but these people were actors, trained at improv.  Time for a little challenge.

"Where's the exchange supposed to take place?" I asked Cindy.

"The Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park," she said.  "Nine o'clock."

Sheesh, how cliché is that?

"Perfect," I said, mustering as much confidence as my voice and demeanor could reflect.  I held up the simple silver box.  "We'll pull a bait and switch.  This is pretty generic.  I have a jewelry box at home that's a dead ringer. We send Cindy with the decoy."

"The Gorn will never buy it," Rasul said. 

I snorted.  "Gorn?  Like from Star Trek?"  Was I really supposed to believe that?

"It's just what we call them," Cindy explained. 

"Right," I nodded.  Oh man, this was priceless.

"The Gorn will want to test it before any kind of trade," Rasul continued.

"No problem!" I said.  "We just make them bring Lani into the open before they can get their hands on the box."

Cindy arched a thin eyebrow.  "Really?  That's your plan?"

"You don't know what you're dealing with," Rasul said slowly.  There was fear in his eyes.  Dude was an amazing actor.  "They'll never let Cindy or the girl out alive."

"Leave that to me," I said, not knowing exactly what that meant.  I threw a handful of bills on the table to cover the mostly uneaten pizza and pushed my way out of the booth.  "See you guys at eight thirty."

I clutched my purse close as a I hurried down the path from Fifth Avenue toward the Alice in Wonderland statue.  Two silver boxes were shoved beneath my makeup bag, the one Dreamypants had given me and an eighth grade graduation keepsake jewelry box from my Great Aunt Harriet that, with the notable exception of my name engraved in a fancy scroll across the lid, was a dead ringer for the supposed portal device.  And laying gingerly on top of both, a Smith and Wesson Mark 22 "Hush Puppy" that my grandfather had used in Vietnam.  Unloaded, of course.  But I thought it would make an awesome prop for the fake confrontation that was about to unfold.

My heart pounded in my chest, most likely visible through the thin material of the ridiculously low cut t-shirt I was wearing.  If this was the climax of the game, Dreamypants would have to be there.  And I wanted to make sure I looked…memorable.

Cindy sat on the ledge of a low stone wall that surrounded the east side of the statue.  She shot to her feet as soon as she saw me. 

"You're late," she said.

I rolled my eyes.  "Barely."

"Did you bring it?" she snapped.

Instead of answering I reached into my purse and brought out the two silver boxes, handing the faux item to Cindy.  "You can barely tell the difference," I said cheerfully.

"Yeah, except for your name scrolled across the lid."  She glared at me.  "They're never going to buy this."

"Oh please.  What are the odds they even know what the original looks like?"

"Fair to middling," Rasul said, stepping out from behind a tree.  "But we'll have to risk it."

"Do you always make dramatic appearances?" I asked.

"Only when necessary."

"Look," Cindy said, cutting us off.  "They'll be here soon, so let's nix the flirting, okay?"

"I was not flirting with that girl," Rasul said, recoiling.

Seriously?  Am I that repulsive?

 

"Hey!" I said.  "You'd be lucky to be flirting with me."

"I think not," he said.

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"Cut it out."  Cindy held the two boxes up before her.  "What exactly am I supposed to do?"

I grabbed the real silver box from her hand and tucked it under my arm.  "Show it to them," I said slowly, as if speaking to a toddler.  "But don't let them touch it 'til you see your sister.  Got it?"

Cindy narrowed her eyes.  "And what if they say 'no'?"

"In that case," I said with a smile.  "Let me deal with them."  I slipped my grandfather's handgun out of my bag.

Rasul clapped his hand down on top of the gun, his eyes darting back and forth to make sure no one watching us.  "Where did you get that?"

I jerked away.  "You've got your secrets.  I've got mine."  I was getting way too into this role. I glanced at my watch.  "It's almost nine."

"Shit," Cindy said under her breath.

"Rasul and I will be close.  Just do what I said and you'll be fine."

We hopped over the wall and flattened ourselves to the ground.  I couldn't wait to see these lizard aliens Cindy and Rasul talked about.  Considering how impressive the rest of this live action play had been, I guessed that the production value on the lizard costumes would be top notch as well. 

"Do you know what you're doing?" Rasul asked.  His stare was hard, distrustful.

"No," I said, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose.  "But that's never stopped—"

A deafening crash ripped through the silence of the park, followed by a rush of air so fierce it sucked the breath out of me.  The air buzzed, tangy with the scent of burning rubber.  Must be the fallout from the pyrotechnics they used for the fake explosion.  See?  Totally top notch.

As the ringing in my ears died down I heard voices on the other side of the wall.

"Here it is."  Cindy's voice quavered.  "N-now I want to see my sister."

"Ssssssissssster," a voice hissed.  It was craggly and rough, like a lifetime smoker with a lisp.

"Y-y-yes," Cindy stammered.  "Or else—"

"Or elssssssssse."

That sounded like my cue.  I gripped the gun in both hands and leapt to my feet.  "Or else you get a taste of steel, asshole," I snarled, feeling very much like I'd just popped into a Quentin Tarentino movie. 

I'd been prepared for the Gorn to look like the 1960's television lizard that wrestled Captain Kirk to the almost death – like a human in a high tech rubber mask.  I wasn't quite prepared for the iridescent skin, enormous red eyes and dinosaur-like tails that swept across the gravel walkway like a writhing mass of boa constrictors.

There were four of them, all around my height, and they pranced back and forth on their toes as if they were standing on hot coals.  Their bodies moved with a sharp fluidity that could only be described as reptilian, and I made a mental note to high five the actors if I got to see them when this was all over.

The Gorn stared at me for a moment, then turned their attention back to Cindy, ignoring me completely.

"No ssssssissssster," the creature closest to her hissed. 

Cindy's hand gripped the box so tightly her fingers were white, and I could see her entire body tremble.  "What do you mean?"

"We come," it said.  "For you."

That was Cindy's cue, apparently.  She doubled over, gripping her stomach with both hands.  The fake silver box clattered onto the gravel pathway.  She cried out in pain, a shriek that sounded so real I momentarily dropped character.  "Cindy?" I said, stepping over the wall.  "Are you okay?"

Her head snapped up and I reeled.  Instead of Cindy's dark, almond shaped eyes, a pair of huge red orbs stared back at me.

That was either the best special effects switcheroo I'd ever seen or something was wrong.

She staggered toward me, reaching her hand out in supplication.  "Help!" she cried, her voice barely more than a croak.  "Lusssssssssssseeeeee."  Her hand clamped onto my wrist with such ferocity I thought the bones might break.  She doubled over again and let out a scream that sounded more animal than human, then she dropped to all fours in front of me.

It's not real.  It's just a game.

Suddenly, Cindy's back ripped open, as if her skin had just burst a seam.  Blood splattered from the gaping wound, splashing me in the face.  Then the back of her head did the same, the flesh and bone that had been Cindy exploded as a new being clawed its way from her innards.  Shimmering green scales caught the light as Cindy's blood cascaded off the creature's body.  It ripped through the remnants of Cindy, tearing her skin away like an old pair of pajamas, and then it stood before me.  A new Gorn, larger and stronger than its companions.

Holy shit.  This was real.

I watched in horror as Rasul slid over the rock wall and approached the new Gorn.  I had to make a mental effort to keep my eyes from trailing to the ground where the gory remnants of Cindy lay strewn about the gravel pathway. 

He sunk to one knee before the new alien, presented the silver box with both hands and bowed his head.  "I believe this is yours, My Queen."

Rasul was one of them. 

And now they had the box.

The newly hatched queen reached out a scaly claw and gently stroked Rasul's keffiyeh, then turned toward me.  I felt all the blood drain out of my body as her huge red eyes bored into mine.  I wanted to run, but my legs had somehow disconnected themselves from my body.  The queen tilted her head to the side, clearly confused by my continued presence, then slowly opened her mouth.

But no words ever came out.  Not even a hiss.  A flash blinded me, silent but so intense it seared through my eyeballs to the back of my skull.  I shielded my eyes with my arms as horrifying shrieks erupted around me.  The Gorn.  The flash of light had done something to them.

Now was my time to escape, but when I opened my eyes, all I could see was a bright spot where the light had branded my retina.  I stumbled forward, arms flailing around for the low wall.  I could use it as a guide to get the hell out of there.

Then there was an arm around my waist.  I started to jerk away, but then I heard a familiar voice whispering in my ear.

"Hilda Otterbum," said that addictive mix of James Bond and Dr. Who.  "I think you should come with me."

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Yeah, you know you want to follow the rest of the story.  Here's the schedule!

Episode 1 - July 15 - Jessica Brody

Episode 2 – July 16 - Jessica Khoury

Episode 3 – July 17 -  Lish McBride

Episode 4 - July 18 – Gretchen McNeil

Episode 5 – July 19 – Emmy Laybourne

But wait, there's more!

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