| Chapter 1
It was a soft day. The mist was curling in amongst the smoke from the small, dark looking cottages. The green hills were saturated with dampness and could no longer contain any more moisture.... Elisha awoke with a guilty start and stared groggily around the unfamiliar room. "Thou shalt not steal! Thou shalt not steal!" That screaming inner voice rose out of the mists of his sleep-addled mind to start its daily torment. He squashed it down as best he could, reached down and groped around the floor next to the couch until he found his battered Gideon bible. He felt a little better with the worn book clutched to his chest. Rahab was still asleep, curled up against his legs, purring softly and dreaming kitten dreams. Elisha moved carefully to keep from waking her. When had he acquired a kitten, and how did he know her name? He struggled with memory for a while, then gave up. It was in the Hole somewhere, like so much of his recent past. This particular cabin seemed to have been furnished sometime in the late seventies, complete with plush orange shag carpet and beaded curtains. A large nude painted on black velvet hung above the fireplace, casting come-hither stares at the stuffed moose and deer heads opposite. He wondered where the cabin's true owner was, and more to the point, when he'd be back. Judging by the clothes stolen from the wardrobe in the bedroom, the owner was a big man, and looking down he could see how the plaid shirt and brown cords hung clownishly from his thin body. But, it was better than being naked in the rain, and besides, now he could provide a small amount of shelter to little Rahab, he rationalized to himself. The thought of stealing clothes started the inner voice was screaming again, and he knew he'd have to leave soon. Maybe he'd find a little milk for Rahab -- nothing for himself, mind you, although his stomache rumbled at the thought of nourishment. He woke up the little kitten, gently tucked it into one of the oversized pockets, and padded across the carpet to the kitchen door. Just as the door swung open, he heard a crashing sound inside and stopped dead in the doorway, staring transfixed. The fridge was open, and a tiny naked man was rummaging through the food inside, his back to the door. He was lithe and muscular, deathly pale, and a few strands of hair clung to his oversize head. A soft cooing sound drew Elisha's attention to the small bundle on the table, a baby wrapped in dirty blankets, working its mouth and kicking in the air futily. Elisha opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The little man spun and stared with large reptile eyes, hissing through sharp pointed teeth. In a flash, he grabbed the infant and disappeared out the window. Elisha fled. |