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Sands of Time Excerpt #2
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Sands of Time
Posted by:
brucesarte
10/27/2008
Finally on shore, I joined the rest of the team standing by the padlocked gate that led to the street across from Farragut Hall. I stood on the wrong side of the ten-foot tall chain link gate and stared through it at the building. What was once an ominous symbol of the oppression of slightly off-balance ex-military and petty officers now stood as an eerie reminder that no matter where you go or what you do, the past always comes back to find you when you are at your most vulnerable. The pale yellow and grey brothel-turned-hotel-turned-military-boarding-school was now a hot spot for what could only be called a modern day chamber of sin.
There were no lights on in the building, but I could swear I saw people moving around in the well-secured windows. We couldn’t see the door to the Naval Science office from where we stood, but we could see the top of the stairs. I could see people—or Caelitus, I guess—coming out into the ever-approaching night. I watched one, a woman with black hair. She couldn’t have been older than 25, and she had a pretty face with high cheekbones. She appeared at the top of the steps and walked with a purposeful stride toward the road. Once she got to the road, she turned left and began running up Riverside Drive, and then she was gone. She ran so fast I couldn’t see her anymore. The Caelitus could move at an incredible speed. It was almost mesmerizing to watch them, one after another, appearing from the steps and repeating the same movements.
“They’re leaving the nest,” Pastor Paul began. “Soon those who are going out to feed will all be gone, and there will only be a few left. Those are the ones who venture out in the daylight. They are the leaders of the clan. The most powerful among them.”
“They’re so graceful and fast,” I said in an almost admiring tone.
“Exactly,” said Curtis matter-of-factly, “and it makes them all the more dangerous. The ones left inside can kill you before you see them. The blood will be running down your shirt before you even realize that they slit your throat with their razor-sharp claws. That is why we have these.”
And he produced small black boxes that he handed to each one of us.
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