Red Fern

Chapter 1: Fernandinho Ivanovič

"Hey Fern, how those translations going. Bossman's getting impatient." Says Joe as he walks by.

"Well I'm sorry, the Boss is gonna have to wait a little bit longer. Is that okay?", replies Fernandinho in a condescending tone.

"Jeez Fern, what's with the tone" says Joe, slightly offended.

"Sorry Bluesy, it's just I'm really stressed with everything that's been happening lately. The Divider has escaped and ever since messages have been coming in thick and fast. Seems he has a lot of fan girls." "The translation branch is completely overloaded!"

Meet the first two main characters. Joe Yellowberg and Fernandinho Ivanovič. Joe works as an assistant for the overly strict and at times tyrannical, Boss of Boston CIA. Joe hates his job but keeps doing it because he's just one of those people. Bossman, Frank Wild is more of a desk type boss. He doesn't enjoy field work (partly because he is quite large around the waist) and doesn't like exuberant people. He sweats a lot and yells a lot and loves hot jam donuts.
Fernandinho "Fern" Ivanovič is head of translation department for the CIA. Being fluent in Spanish, Portuguese and Croatian she is a valuable asset for the CIA. Born in Zagreb, Croatia on the 20th of March 1988 she lived a fairly normal life. Until that tragic December day.
On the 22nd of December 1999, Fern's parents went out to do some last minute Christmas shopping. Her mum, Beatriz Garcia, was born and raised in the slums of Rio de Janeiro. Extremely talented in martial arts such as karatē and taekwondo, Beatriz attracted the attention of many men. Men such as Alexander Ivanovič. Alexander was born in Vincovcki, Croatia. His mum died when he was 10 and he was left with his abusive and drunken father. He was extremely talented at football and made it his career. He travelled the world with the Croatian national team. He travelled to Brazil, where he met Beatriz.

Anyway, back to the story. They left home at 9:00 to get the presents. At 9:30 they arrived at the store. At 10:30 they left. They never got home. At an intersection they were clipped by a wayward driver, which sent them spinning out of control. They never recovered.

The police arrived at the crash site and were faced with a bloody scene. They recovered the bodies of Beatriz and Alexander and rushed them to hospital. Alexander received a massive hit to the head which dislodged his frontal lobe. The neurosurgeons had to remove it or he would never wake from his coma. He also received irreparable damage to both his legs.

Beatriz was not as fortunate. Although Alexander would have permanent brain damage and would never walk again. He would live. Beatriz suffered a massive haemorrhage on the brain, ruptured both lungs and torn her spleen. The doctors had done everything they could. With life support turned off, Beatriz breathed her last, laboured breath, and let go.

Fern waited patiently at home. Crouching by the Christmas tree. Watching the door, waiting for the unmistakable sound of a lock clicking open and the handle turning.

After 2 hours Fernandinho started to panic. Her parents had been gone more than 4 hours! How big was the present? A loud ringing snapped Fern out of her thoughts. She ran to the phone. "Hello" said Fern curiously.
"Um, yes, hello. Am I speaking to Fernandinho Ivanovič?" Replied an anxious voice from the other end.
"Yes. Um, who is this"
"This Dr Sara Walker from the intensive care unit of Brooklyn State Hospital."
"Has something happened?"
"I'm afraid, yes. Something has happened."

The next few days passed by in a blur. Trips to and from the hospital at least five times a day, meetings with foster parents because since her mother has passed and her dad, in no state to parent a ten year old girl, the court ordered she be passed into foster care. That's how Fern life was to be from now on.

Four years past and Fernandinho grew lonelier and more afraid. She began to be rejected by her classmates and bullied. The girl with the foster parents. The retard dad. She couldn't take it. One day, when she came home from school, she stormed into the kitchen where her foster mum was cooking lunch.

"I'm home." Said Fern
"Yes, I know. You make quite the entrance." Replied foster mum with malice in her voice.
"Then why didn't you come say hi." Inquires Fern curiously.
"There was no need."
"What does that even mean!" Spits Fern, quite peeved with her fake mums behaviour.
"It means I didn't need to." Replies fake mum, simply and calmly which infuriates Fern even further.
"Well can you at least ask me how my day was!"
"Fine, how was your day? She asks turning away from the stove and looking at Fern.
"What do you care!" Yells Fern, stifling a smile at her "mums" confusion.
"Jeez Fern, sometimes I really don't get you."

Sometimes? Try all the time. She never payed any attention to Fern. She was to busy updating her statuses on social media and her stupid online dating profile that no one had commented on. Like ever. Bottom line is, she hated Fern and Fern hated her. Which was fine with her.

Fern had had enough. She stormed to her room and slammed the door. She grabbed a backpack and stuffed three things into it. Her notebook, her pencil and her eraser. She ran to her door and wrote a quick message on it.

"Dear Victoria. You've pushed me to my very limit. Taunted me, teased me, ignored me. You've tried to take the place of my mother and you've failed miserably. You have done only one thing for me. Helped me escaped." And with that Fern ran to the window and jumped.

She hit the ground with a thud and sprinted to the hedge. As raged pulsed through her, she ran and ran and ran. She disappeared into the park as a dark figure jumped out of the bushes.

Fern fell to the ground. She looked up to a man with a balaclava. His eyes were barely visible, but Fern saw fear. Fear and an intense concentration. A hand reached for her throat. She grabbed it, tried to pull it away.

Fern saw images, memories. Memories of a past, someone else's past. Visions, visions of a future. Darkness, sadness, despair. Light, happiness, joy. Powers. Beyond imagination, beyond legend. And one word, Conduit.

Fern snapped back to reality. Shuddering and shaking. Breathing heavily. The realisation of what happened hit her like a freight train.
"I...I'm one of them"