Josephine Marlin and The Alternatives Read online

  Josephine Marlin and The Alternatives

  Book One - A friend in need

  Karen Eastland

  First published by Eastlands Publishing House in 2018

  Copyright © Karen Eastland, 2018

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

  First Edition

  Contents

  Dedication

  Horse Play

  Near Death Experience

  The Parting Gift

  The Slice n Dice

  Eradicate This

  The Getaway Mobile

  The Despatulator

  Ben's Meat for Eats

  Vila’s Garden of Men

  Secrets

  Sugaar

  Eric

  Athêna

  The Dark Forest

  Winged Assassin

  Man of the Trees

  The Test

  The We and me

  Ewwww what was that?

  Banshee

  Amphora of Souls

  Descent

  Ascent

  Rise of Andoré

  Coming Soon in Book Two

  About The Author

  Dedication

  Thank you to Joshua Asnicar, Darrell E. Smith and Emily Murdoch for believing in me.

  ***

  A special thank you to my partner for all the trials, tribulations, blood, sweat, tears and help

  Horse Play

  ‘Andoré? You must wake Andoré,’ several voices whispered in my head. There was something about them that faintly reminded me of leaves caught in a soft breeze, on a warm Autumn night.

  I rolled over and tried to ignore them.

  ‘Obviously a wrong number,’ I thought, drifting back to sleep.

  ‘Andoré, wake!’ the voices said a little louder.

  ‘Alright! I’m getting up now!’ I said impatiently.

  ‘Andoré, awaken now!’ said a voice that had risen above the others. It was clear, precise, and annoyed, making me pay attention. It was also the last thing I heard before opening my eyes.

  ‘What the…’ I said, realising I was lying on a cold, wet floor.

  I didn’t know what type of liquid I was lying in, but it was slimy and smelled like something I imagined could only be found in an old sewer line, or, maybe one of those portable toilets.

  ‘Where the hell am I?’ I muttered while trying to sit up.

  Making it to one elbow, I felt around in the dark for anything familiar but found nothing. And I had a migraine running from the back of my neck to the back of my eyes; it was pounding a syncopated rhythm to the beat of my heart.

  Pained, tired, and confused, I forgot for the briefest of moments I wasn’t in bed. Reaching for the top drawer of my bedside table, where I keep my painkillers, instead of finding its polished grain and brass handle, I overbalanced, and my hand slid out from under me. For seconds I blindly floundered around in the darkness, feeling for anything to hold to, but found nothing. My face hit the floor with a thud!

  ‘Farrrk!’ I said, rubbing my cheek as the pain increased in my head.

  ‘Why’s it so dark?’ I complained.

  ‘Where the hell am I?’ I thought. ‘I don’t recall going out last night. Did I go out last night Brain?’

  Silence.

  ‘Did I go out last night Brain?’ I asked again, gently tapping my forehead.

  ‘Oh, you are awake. No, you did not Josephine,’ said my sometimes helpful internal dialogue.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Hello? Is anyone there?’ I called, hoping someone would run in, turn a light on and yell “Surprise”.

  ‘That’d work,’ I thought, feeling more than a little scared. But no-one came in, and no-one answered me.

  Feeling around in the dark for something familiar, I found nothing but a cold wall with a thin chain strung along it. I pushed my back against the wall and used the chain to pull myself upright. The sewage smell had seeped into my clothes and every time I tried standing; my heels slid out from under me.

  ‘Damn the custom-made four-inch wood carved heels of my Lace Ups,’ I thought. ‘At least they’ve got a good thick steel core. They should be able to take a beating, or could be a lethal weapon should it come to it.’

  ‘If you take off your shoes,’ said Brain, who’d been listening in, ‘maybe you would be able to stand up.’

  Choosing to ignore his advice, I tried to stand again, but each time I got a heel flat on the floor, it’d slip out from under me. I sensed Brain wanted to say something but apparently thought better of it. Every time I hit the floor, my head hurt even more. Suddenly I heard a weird noise. It sounded like a leaking gas pipe.

  Feeling sorry for myself, I felt the sting of hot tears well in my eyes. I didn’t know where I was, or how long I’d been there. Pulling my knees in against my chest, I quietly wept. My mind raced with all the horrible scenarios Daddy had warned me about.

  ‘Be careful Josephine. You’re not a little girl anymore. It’s a scary world out there. Keep your friends close,’ he’d say on his lighter days. Other days I’d hear, in graphic detail, some of the horror stories his lawyer friends had told him.

  Then I had an epiphany. For the first time in my life, I was alone. Fear rose in my chest as I realised it wasn’t the girls playing some twisted practical joke again.

  ‘No-one will ever know where I went,’ I cried.

  With tears silently streaming down my face, I wiped them away when I heard a strange noise. Was it rustling or the slithering of snakes? Maybe it was someone else in the room? I hoped it wasn’t snakes… or spiders… anything but a huge nest of spiders… or snakes. I listened for a few moments for the slither of their slimy bodies giving themselves away, or the patter of giant spider legs running towards me.

  ‘I bet they could see in the dark!’ I thought.

  ‘Hello? Where am I?’ I cried, wiping away my tears. I know my voice had reached a high pitch as I pleaded, ‘Won’t someone please answer me?’

  A chill ran down my spine, and I became silent when I realised it could be my kidnapper hiding in the dark, watching me. After a few moments, I decided to ask again.

  ‘Hello?’ I asked with caution. ‘Why is it so dark in here? Are you all right?’

  ‘Shut up,’ a voice hissed from the darkness. I thought it sounded familiar, but it had a dry, scratchy tone to it.

  ‘Thank God,’ I thought. ‘Someone else’s here.’

  I didn’t want to reveal too much excitement, but at least I wasn’t alone. I suddenly remembered all the b-grade movie plots, and how I always laughed at the stupid things people did. It was like, ‘This is Bob, don’t be Bob!’ Looking around, I tried to make out anything in the murky darkness, and wanted to ask more but didn’t want to draw attention to myself.

  Rummaging through my brain to remember what’d happened, I recalled getting home from the airport, and the door to my flat being open. I’d just started looking around when there was a knock at the door. I couldn’t quite see who it was.

  After a few calming breaths I tried exploring those hazy memories. I carefully examined each of them one at a time. I could see someone standing in the open doorway, but every time I got close, the image would fade.

  ‘Try again, Josephine,’ said Brain. ‘You almost had it.’

  I remembered the tall figure of Pony standing at my door. Why would anyone deliberately name their kid Pony? I call her
Saddle Sore, old SS for short. SS doesn’t usually go down well with the girls. I know they think it’s funny, but sometimes their work selves cross over to their fun selves, and they forget how to be themselves.

  Sifting through my memories of that night, I couldn’t recall what she wanted.

  ‘Think,’ urged Brain. ‘This is no time to get confused.’

  ‘Okay,’ I thought. ‘I remember Pony saying something like goo? Woo? Loo…? Oh you, me, she wanted me.’

  I praised myself for remembering.

  ‘If you can’t praise yourself Josephine, no-one’s going to do it for you,’ Daddy always tells me.

  He’s so wise.

  I remembered she looked odd and had a strange smile on her face. There seemed to have been a weird green glow coming from somewhere that had made me feel uneasy. I recalled I didn’t want to invite her in, especially as my flat had been burgled, then thought I’d rather have a friend with me. I didn’t know if the intruder was still there.

  Everything after that was a blank.

  The stench from the liquid on the floor reminded me where I was, and I wanted whatever was going on, to stop.

  ‘And I have a headache,’ I thought quietly crying.

  ‘There, did you hear that?’ asked Brain.

  ‘Hear what?’

  ‘Stop whining for a minute Josephine, and listen.’

  I could hear nearby sobbing. Squinting into the darkness, trying to find out who it was, I couldn’t see a bloody thing, not even my hand, let alone someone else in the room. Feeling around, I felt a drainage grate on the floor; then my fingertips brushed against something else… something furry.

  I pulled my hand back as a silent scream echoed through my head, and a shiver ran up my spine. Whatever else I might have imagined it was, right then I knew it was a spiders leg. A giant spiders leg!

  After I stopped my seated ewwww dance, I reached back to the area where I’d felt it, but it wasn’t there… where was it? I decided to put that little horror to one side for the moment and, thinking it unlikely my kidnapper would be crying, see if I could get whoever it was to talk to me again.

  ‘Who’s there, and why should I shut up?’ I demanded, but the crying had stopped.

  I’m the type of person who can put up with quite a lot. Not only was I in some dark, dank room, but also had a migraine and was covered in the foulest smelling slime I’d ever encountered.

  I knew it was going to take a week of sauna’s and treatments to get that smell out of my pores and, oh let’s not forget the cherry on the cake here, I was certain a giant spider was preparing to spring at me and… No, I wasn’t going to finish that thought.

  The hairs on the back of my neck began to rise as I asked once more with feeling, feeling bloody annoyed: ‘Who the hell’s there, and why the hell should I shut up?’

  ‘Damn it, Jo, it’s me, Ann,’ she said with a sniff. ‘Shut up before she comes back.’

  ‘What the hell Ann? Who’ll come back? And where the hell are we?’ As an afterthought, I added, ‘I can smell wee. Can you smell wee?’

  ‘Yes, we can smell wee,’ a dry, emotionless voice close to my ear said.

  I cringed a little and bum shuffled across the floor to try to get as far from the voice as I could, but stopped cold when I heard the sound of gas being piped into the room.

  ‘Is that you Kaz?’ I asked above the noise, and once I’d reached a safe distance.

  ‘Yes, it’s me!’ she wheezed out. ‘How’d you know it’s me?’

  I felt relieved and thankful for the darkness, as I regained my composure.

  ‘Move back a little will ya!’ Kaz almost squealed.

  ‘I knew it was you,’ I said, moving back slightly, ‘because you’re the only person I know who could make an offer to share your gummy bears, sound like a game of Russian roulette.’

  I was feeling frustrated and, with every second that passed, was moving closer to anger.

  ‘Where the hell am I?’ I asked, a lot slower for those who might have been having trouble understanding.

  ‘I don’t bloody know,’ said Kaz.

  ‘Shut up,’ Ann snapped at us in a gruff whisper.

  Someone suddenly banged three or four times on what must have been the door. The noise of it made me look up, and that’s when I noticed shadows flickering along a thin sliver of light on the floor. The banging scared me so much I did shut up. At least for a couple of seconds. Watching the shadows move away, I realised something.

  ‘You were right next to me all that time, and you couldn’t say a thing? You let me fall into the wee. Why would you do that Kaz?’

  ‘Why not!’

  ‘Oh God, she’s coming back,’ Ann said in a rasping whisper.

  ‘What? Who?’ I asked.

  ‘Shush!’ said Ann.

  I could tell she was terrified, by the sound of her whisper being more of a quavering growl, than her usual smooth tones. She was also upset with us, and if anyone could tell just by the sound of her voice, it would be me.

  I mess with Ann a lot.

  It’s okay though. We’ve known each other forever, and our families go back generations. I have a special way of making her angry. When she gets angry with me, only with me mind you, she gets a wrinkle between her eyes that looks like her eyebrows join together.

  Back in fifth grade, before Ann was allowed to pluck and wax, her eyebrows were bushy. I’d beg her to frown until she’d get so angry that she’d frown even though she didn’t want to. The more she didn’t want to, the more she did it. We’d laugh and laugh and laugh until she’d finally laugh with us.

  I never understood why the others were laughing because their eyebrows weren’t much better. Mother made sure mine were plucked, waxed, trimmed, and shaped long before I’d heard the phrase: beauty is pain.

  Now everyone, except Kaz, has lovely shaped, well-waxed eyebrows, though I’m still able to pull that frown from Ann, anytime I want.

  ‘I reckon she’s frowning right now,’ I thought.

  Ann has a twin sister, Deb. They’re from a wonderful Greek family, and it’s probable the Katsaros’ were on the same ship as the McMarlin’s, sailing to the colonies. As you can tell from my name, I’m not Greek, “Good Irish stock” daddy always says after a couple of whiskeys at Christmas.

  ‘You’ve links to Saxon royalty Josephine,’ he’d slur, before pointing a shaky finger at me saying, ‘You remember that.’

  I never tell anyone of course. Daddy’s a bit coy about our heritage every other day of the year, and before I’m able to ask him further questions, mother butts in and has his man-servant put him to bed. Then Christmas is over at the Marlin household, and I meet up with the girls at Ann and Deb’s. The Katsaros’ know how to throw a party. Their party doesn’t end until the last person standing, falls. It’s a true gathering of love and friendship.

  Deb and Ann dance with their Pappous (Grandfather), twirling their long chestnut-brown hair around, flicking anyone who happens to pass by. After a few drinks, the dance floor turns into a hybrid between a mosh pit of headbangers and line dancers, and they really let loose. It becomes a battlefield of hair, with all the Katsaros women, young and old, seeing who can hold out the longest. Ann and Deb have been the reigning champs three years in a row.

  Their cousin Tony tried to get in on the action one year and, after his haircut, had to spend some time rehabilitating with past male contenders.

  Not everyone goes into the pit with loose hair; some keep it ponytailed or plaited… Ann and Deb go in with it loose because they understand that even though plaits hurt, they can also harm their owners.

  In the end, loose hair wins. The twins know just how far to go; their hair never gets caught up in someone’s plait; nor do they get whipped by someone’s strategically placed ponytail. I always know when they’re about to bring down the last contender, they get a glint in their dark brown eyes, and a wicked smile forms on their full lips as they go in for the kill, and oh, is it ugly.

&nb
sp; I never take part; it’s scary enough to watch, let alone getting caught up in the throng. No-one gets a prize for winning, but I’m sure they all practice throughout the year in the hopes that this year they’ll bring down the twins.

  Poor Kaz, she’s the angriest person I’ve ever met, and always sits by herself at the party.

  Every year, Oma (The twins name for their grandmother. They couldn’t pronounce her name as toddlers. It’s now a thing.) seeks her out. We have a running bet on how long it will take before Oma has Kaz smiling. It’s not an easy task. We just go by the nearest hour now.

  It always ends with Oma removing her teeth, putting her arm around Kaz’s shoulder and pulling the entire chair, with Kaz sitting on it, next to hers. Then she gets a glint in her eye and smiles as she pokes her tongue out so close to Kaz’s ear, that when Kaz turns to see what she’s doing… well let’s just say Oma’s licked Kaz’s face more times than I can count.

  I’m not sure if it’s our laughter, or Oma’s work that makes Kaz laugh, but eventually, Oma cracks Kaz, and everyone joins in the fun.

  While Oma is busying herself with Kaz, Pappous catches a few z’s, and the twins get Pony up to dance.

  Pony’s like a new colt learning to walk for the first time. She’s so tall, awkward, and dancing’s not her favourite activity. We all laugh watching them try to get her to Macarena without falling over herself, … You’d think after all these years she’d be able to do it, but no. … Every year she ends up on the ground laughing with whoever was lucky enough to be within reach as she went down.

  The twins get quite cheeky as the night rolls on, and I watch as they work the yard. That glint in their eyes shines brightly when they’re about to mess with someone. They begin by waking Pappous, who always falls asleep in his chair early in the evening. As he wakes, everyone waits for his denial, then cheer and laugh while saying in unison with him, ‘I was just resting my eyes.

  Then it’s gift time. The gift table is a twelve seater in the dining room, and if Father Christmas lived anywhere, it would most certainly be the Katsaros house.