Reflections of Shadows

Chapter 4: The Minions

FOUR

I got to Lydia's driveway in a matter of seconds. She had changed into some dark jeans and a black shirt. She had also worn her black hand gloves and black shoes. I had to admit to myself that with her jet black hair and olive skin, she could pull it off but it still was strange.

"You look like you're going to a funeral." I said blantantly.

"This is SPY GEAR!" She insisted. "In case the kids want to play."

"Or in case you try and escape into The Forbidden Forrest?"

She smiled. "One of the two."

I smiled back. The Forbidden Forrest (affectionatly named after the one in Harry Potter) was a half joke, half horrific truth about living on an army base. It was basically a forest where in half the forest, wildlife is able to live and thrive like a regular forest and the other half contains an old abandoned testing ground for toxic gases, bombs and chemicals.

And the alarming part is that there is no distinct line between these two areas.

It's one forrest. So if you step in a hole it could be a snake hole.

Or a landmine.

Which is why it's forbidden.

But of course being stupid teenagers, we often cut our losses and go in.

We even had a little "club house" back there in a cave and a little pathway to get there that we knew was pretty safe.

You know, as long as you don't step in any holes.

So, it therefore became a very bitter joke between me, Lyd, Bella, and Dimitri to someday sneak in to The Forrest and go camping for a weekend when absolutely no one would expect it.

Soon enough I forgot about the little joke and we were on our way to our client's house.

We arrived presicely one minute late at #678 and knocked at the door.

Mrs. Morgan opened the door. Her hair, another joke between the gang and I, was today a very strange shade of auburn meets red meets dirty blonde. It changed every day. She was dressed in a green dress that only made her hair seem stranger and had a lipstick that was so red on her mouth, I was surprised I didn't go blind.

"Oh thank goodness." She said. "I was thinking you'd never come. Killian! Marok! Aisley!"

Marok popped in. 7 years old and still as cute and sweet as a button with his brown hair cut buzz short and his little green eyes darting too and fro.

"Lydia! Gwen!" He cried coming to hug us.

"Hey, buddy!" I said, giving him a hug and scooping him in the air.

Aisley came in next. She waved at us from a distance. "Hi guys!" She said.

"What, no hug?" Lydia said. She pouted.

The little munchkin's face crinkled in a smile and she ran as fast as her five year old feet could run to Lydia's arms, her blonde hair swinging back and forth as she tottered.

But of course, the cutest comes last.

Killian poked his head through the hallway door. His little ginger hair stook up in puffs and his bluer-than-anything eyes shined behind his glasses. He was wearing his favorite plaid button up shirt and a pair of blue jeans.

"Killeeeannnnnnnn!" I said.

He giggled and retreated behind the wall.

I let go of Marok, and got on my hands and knees crawling towards the wall.