Enter the Enemy.
Megan had copied down the song from the sampler and was in her room reading it back to herself over and over again. No meaning sprang from the paper to her ready mind. She flopped back on the bed with a groan of frustration.
“Sheesh. You’d think Great Grandaddy would make this a little easier, wouldn’t you?”
Rolling onto her stomach, she responded to herself.
“Of course not. Great Grandaddy wanted to make it hard, so only a few people would find it. Namely me and Mason. Yeesh. Ya know, sometimes I wish I was as good at riddles as I am with stories.”
She rolled over again, lying with her head hanging over the edge of the bed, holding the paper in front of her eyes.
“This is going to be harder than I thought.”
In a small apartment about 50 miles away, two men slunk through the door. They stood behind a black swivel chair in sheepish silence.
“Well?” A quiet voice inquired. One man cleared his throat, then shoved the other man forward and stepped back. A small scuffle broke out, then the voice hissed, “Stop it!”
They both stood still, and one man said quietly,
“We followed him to her house, but the we lost them on the freeway. We still don’t know where he is, and he’s taken her with him.”
The person in the swivel chair stood up slowly.
“So, what you mean to tell me... is that not only have you made no progress at all with the McSanford boy, but you’ve lost the girl, too!”
“In so many words, yes,” said the second man. A hand lashed out, striking both men and flattening them to the ground.
“You idiots! The first lead in three years, and you bungle it! You are more than idiots! You are incompetent fools! Why do I even bother using you? You are useless morons who can’t even carry out a simple mission!”
The tongue lashed out just as harshly as the hands and the two men crawled away as their master slowed in wrath.
“Ah, what do you know. You aren’t even a part of the family. Just get out of my sight, and don’t bungle again. This time, keep a tighter watch on him. Or her, if you happen to see her. Maybe next time you won’t be quite as incompetent, and maybe I won’t kill you. Get out.”
The two men stumbled out of the apartment as quickly as bruised limbs would carry them. The figure sat back down in the swivel chair and looked out the window.
“It’s been a long time, McSanford, but this time, I will kill you, and end your line forever. You will never live to find the treasure. It’s all mine!”
A quiet laugh followed this statement. A laugh to freeze the blood in your veins, and turn your limbs to stone.
Mason was in the parlour inspecting the frame the sampler was in. He removed it from the wall and turned it over and over.
“There has to be something here. That song doesn’t make any sense as a clue.”
He looked over every inch of the picture and found a latch at the back. He flipped it open and the back of the picture fell open.
The door of Megan’s room flew open and Mason rushed in. Megan fell backwards off her bed in surprise, uttering a small cry. Mason stopped short.
“Are you okay?”
Megan groaned as she got to her feet.
“Sheesh, knock first why don’t you?”
“Sorry. I found something!”
“What!”
“Yeah! There was a piece of paper behind the sampler in the frame!”
“What’s it say?”
“Will you do the honours?”
Megan took the paper he handed her and read it out loud.
As verses tell of terrace cold,
Forget-me-nots and roses grow.
The search wears on for treasure old,
Know what you reap is what you sow.
Beneath the earth, though not the ground,
My secret waiting to be found.
A grave awaits the simple mind,
My clue is quite the clever kind.
Mason frowned.
“What does it mean?”
Megan facepalmed and sat down on the bed.
“Not another riddle! These stupid poems are driving me insane! How many more do we have to put up with?”
Mason sat next to her to get a better look at the rhyme.
“Hopefully not too many more.”
Megan handed him the paper and walked to the door.
“I’m getting a snack. Want anything?”
“Nah, I’m good.”
Megan shrugged and walked out of the room. Mason pored over the short rhyme, searching for meaning.
Again, 50 miles away in the “nearby” town, a teen boy by the name of Kyle, not much younger than Mason, was running through the streets, trying to avoid being seen by the two henchmen from the apartment. His shaggy brown hair hung in his wide brown eyes as he ran. His long legs took him out of town and into the woods just past the last shop. He knew their car couldn’t make it in the woods, and they would have to follow on foot. If he could keep away until nightfall, he’d be safe. But as he ducked into the fringe of the woods, two shots rang out from behind him. The men had caught up and were shooting at him. He freaked and ran further into the woods.
“I am so dead!” He gasped to himself. He ran as fast as he could, glancing constantly behind himself to see if they were close. He knew that there was a house deep in the woods, but he didn’t know how far in the woods, or if his legs would hold out that long. It was nearly an hour later when his legs finally gave out, and he collapsed into the brush, exhausted. He lay there for a moment, catching his breath, then giggled to himself.
“I’m being chased by two men with guns, for no apparent reason.”
He sat up and looked around.
“Well, I could turn around and head back to town...”
He scratched his head.
“Wherever that is.”
He giggled again and fell back into the dead leaves again.
“Or, I could stay here and figure out how to survive for as many days as it takes to find a way out of these woods.”
He put his hands behind his head and grinned.
“But first, a little nap couldn’t go wrong.”
He closed his eyes and fell asleep in seconds.
Kyle woke to the sound of yelling and gunshots.
“Aw, shoot! I was just at the good part! Guess I’m running again.”
He scrambled to his feet and took off again. The shouts followed him through the woods as he ran. Then, he suddenly tripped straight down a hole and landed awkwardly on his ankle. He fell hard onto a concrete floor. Wait... concrete? Kyle was just as surprised as anyone, but kept his mouth shut until he couldn’t hear the men anymore. Then he attempted to stand up, but fell back with a loud, “Yowch!”
He sat down again and looked at his ankle. It was red and swollen, and he knew he must have twisted it.
“Well, this puts a kink in the whole surviving thing.”
He scooted backwards until his back was against the grubby wall of a half-buried concrete building, then fell back asleep.
(Side note) Sorry for the short, and late, post, but I did warn you, to be fair. School started, and I've had a busy day. To anyone who read this, thank you for cooperating.
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