The Orb And The Onslaught {COMPLETE}

Over The Hill

    They arrived in Gladys's town in the early evening, Florence was in the middle of explaining the dynamics of driving to Quentin when they drove into the town. It was less inhabited than Florence remembered; only a handful of buildings and even less livable houses. They both fell silent, the town felt eerie somehow and it didn't help that they were missing the protection of having every window in tact.

    Not to mention that they were both freezing, despite the coats Quentin had bought them, the cold permeated the cart and their skin; their breath rose in white, smoky clouds in front of them. The whole experience was chilling in more ways than one, and Florence sped up in order to spend less time there.

   Gladys's house was more like a whole street of one-storey houses, it took up the entire furthest edge of the town. The ocean was the only thing beyond it and the hilly landscape of the town surrounded it. It looked well kept however, light poured from a few of the windows and smoke was rising from the chimney, which filled Florence with relief that someone was home.

    Another cart was parked outside when they pulled up, a bright shade of green which accompanied their red one nicely. The cats hopped out as soon as Florence stopped but they didn't venture far, staying in sight of Florence. She smiled inwardly and climbed out of the cart, it was good to know they'd listened for once.

    Quentin was staring at the house in awe.

"This place has to be hundreds of years old, it must have been here when the settlers came from Othon. I can't believe it's still standing and in such good condition."

    "Oh it was around long before then, it has been owned by Gladys's family since it was built. But don't mention it to her, otherwise she'll get overexcited and we'll never get the answers we need. Gladys likes a good, long story."

Quentin half smiled and proceeded to follow her up to the front door. It was a massive, steel plated door with fist sized bolts encircling it. Florence rapped on the door with her knuckles and they waited in near silence; Quentin was mumbling to himself, admiring the age and craftsmanship on the door alone.

    A second later a number of locks clicked from behind the door and it opened a fraction, a small face appeared in the crack.

"What do you want? Have you seen the time? I am very busy."

The voice was croaky and the eyes were so scrunched up it was hard to tell what her expression was.

    But Florence could tell it was her, she'd aged quite a bit and she sounded cranky. Although that was probably due to the fact that she'd just been interrupted in whatever left the dirt marks across her face.

"You haven't even got time for an old friend?"

    Gladys squinted her eyes to mere slits when Florence spoke and she opened the door further so light spilled over the two of them.

"Flo? Is... is that you? Ahh! You old prune, it's nice to see you again!"

    She lunged towards Florence and pulled her into a tight hug, Florence noticed immediately that she'd lost a lot of weight, that combined with her height made her almost skeletal. It worried Florence enough to pull back from the hug and take a good look at her.

    She still had the same cheeky glint in her eyes, which according to Bernard they both shared and was what made them fast friends. Her golden blonde hair had paled with age and her horn rimmed glasses swinging on their chain looked much thicker than the last time Florence had seen her. But there was something else about her that wasn't quite right.

    "Come in, come in, I can't have you lollygagging outside in this ghastly weather. It could snow any minute and you'd freeze on the spot."

She ushered them both inside and the cats ran in before the door closed. Gladys arched a brow in curiosity.