Judith:

My group did not do much packing ourselves, which figured, as we had nothing to pack ourselves. Jeffery was right, as much as it mattered, the packing was done in just a few hours. I went to visit with him again, seeing him relaxing with a book against a large suitcase.

No, I did not know what I was doing even talking to him. Twas not like he could know, but I did not really stand up for him. Honestly, there were parts of me that wanted to reject everything I had been taught about gargoyles, especially them being destined to be evil, but there was a lingering question: could I really reject so much that my parents and everyone I knew taught me?

"What are you reading?" I asked.

He looked up, "Tom Sawyer."

 I smiled, "One of my favorites!" I sat down next to him.

He chuckled. "Well, I'm having a hard time getting past the first chapter to be honest- who talks like the people in this book?"

"Well no one anymore, but my mother taught me a way of speaking that tis similar... or at least just as different. Would you like me to help?"

"Dad usually does but- sure!"

He was halfway through the first chapter and we got halfway through the third before Jeff looked up.

"Oh come come, this is a good part-" I said but he interrupted.

"Looks like there's a guy over there who wants to talk to you." He pointed. I followed his finger and saw a man waving for me to come over. I shrugged.

"If he is still there after this chapter, I will talk to him then," I said.

"Rude!" Jeffery noted.

I bopped him on his head with the book, holding our place. "Book, then I go talk, come come." I opened the book back up and really, Jeff did not need much motivation.

When we finally finished the chapter, I got up and went over to the werewolf. It had been enough time to make sure no one thought I really cared about him.

He leaned up against the wall as I came over. "Hey Jarred." He barely raised an eyebrow, but it still told me he did not expect me to know him. He gave me a small watch. He wasn't a friend, but I knew his face.

"Well, if you know of me, that makes it easier. 6 pm, get everyone to the door over there." He moved his head to point quickly at a back door."

"How many people will be here?"

"You know I can't tell you."

I bit my tongue. "We... the idea is to just grab us and go right?"

"Sure... yeah. But we're ready to do what it takes. You're getting out of here." He tipped his small baseball cap. "See you in a few hours."

(***)

Jeffery and I kept going in the book until he tired out and fell asleep. Hmm... guess he worked pretty hard packing.

One would think I would feel better knowing my rescuers were here but... I was scared. What did I even want? I did not know. No normal human knew I was a banshee, but I normally had a home where I could be who I was really. Could I live a lie all the time? Yes, I was seriously considering if I wanted to stay with the gargoyles. It would be easier than trying to figure out how to get out of this without innocent people getting hurt... or trying to figure out what innocent even meant anymore.

Did it matter what I decided though? If we kids stood up to our parents and those in our societies and told them to leave, we would have to do it together. Even then, why would they listen to us?

I finally gathered the other children, even having to practically pull Jaden out of a blanket on the ground, dummy was out like a light, probably bored, and nothing got him to just wake up. I dropped him in the assembled group. He sleepily looked around our friends. "So what's up?" he finally said first, just playing it off like he was amused to be dropped off.

"If we are going to leave, we need to be by that door at six," I said, showing them the watch. I was keeping my voice down.

"What do you mean "if"?" Jaden asked.

"We all know what could happen here. Maybe there is a way to stop it? If the gargoyles figure out we are trying to escape... that we need to escape... there could be a fight."

Jezreel put her hand on mine. "Do not worry, our people can fend for themselves. They will be okay and they know what they- ow!"

I squeezed that hand hard and then threw it back at her. "I do not want anyone hurt. Anyone! Not our people, not their people, I just want everyone to be okay. Maybe there's a way we can tell our people to just go home."

"I am sorry but- have you lost your mind?" Jezreel stared into my eyes. "Gargoyles..." she said like she was expecting the word to shake something loose in my head. Again, good thing we were separated from everyone else right now or Jezreel would probably be digging our graves. Still, I could notice Kyle scanning the people nearby just in case they started to listen.

"Um... I might understand Judith's sentiment," Jessica replied, "but the gargoyles will eventually realize what we are and we will no longer be welcome. Judith, you feeling guilty? Realizing they aren't what you thought? Good. But the war is real and we really are their enemies. We can't just ignore reality."

"C... can we change it?" I asked back.

"I wouldn't count on it. Not like this," Jessica replied. "The best way to sacrifice as few people as possible is to just get out of here as quickly as possible. The gargoyles will probably just leave here when we're gone and that can be the end of it... hopefully." She nodded. "Everyone maintain the best cover you can, and let's get ready to get out of here."

(***)

Allen:

Turned out most of this area had long been abandoned.

5:30 pm, teams were arriving in short order, mostly our cars parking in random places around the area so as not to stand out. Werewolves and wildmen filled out the majority of our numbers, simply because their races were most common in the United States. However, there were probably a good twenty banshees and a full ten mystics, including Jacob and Rebekah. The tall bald Jacob walked over to me and Filetran with his mascaraed mask on in a small abandoned shop, the groups around us taking up positions in the empty buildings behind the gargoyle camp. Several guns were pointed down at the street and a small crowd of men and women were at my back.

"We're ridiculously outnumbered yes?" he asked.

Filetran nodded. "Hence why we're taking our time to stage this fight."

Jacob looked over at me. "Aren't you a peace lover?" he asked. "Aren't you going to suggest we negotiate?"

I shook my head. "I don't want a fight, but we have nothing to offer the gargoyles. If they intended to just give the children back, they would have done so." My hand trembled holding my shotgun. I breathed in deep, and then out long. My trembling stopped. "Whatever it takes, I'm getting back my son."

Small flames began to cover the body of the mystic. "I have to respect you wolves sometimes," he said. "Really, you're just pawns of the Pharaohs and your powers are nothing to the other societies, yet you take the initiative to police."

"The Pharaohs are just allies."

"Keep telling yourself that, none of this would be happening without them," he replied.

Filetran grabbed the man's sleeve, appearing to not even notice as he was burned. "Don't you forget, without them, we would all be under gargoyle rule."

Jacob brushed off the hand, which was now red. "And instead we're in a war and I'm getting ready to attack a camp full of children. I have no love for the world as your kind have made it, let me be clear on that. The mystics are here to protect their own."

I looked down. "Pretty much we're all here for that. To do what we have to... like none of us ever had a choice."

"We're here to protect our children," Filetran said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

I brushed it off. "And they'll probably come out here doing the same thing," I said back.

"They're just gargoyles," Filetran answered.

"They're people," I said back.

Jacob shook his head. "Ya know," he said with a chuckle, "the way I talk, maybe, one of these days, it would pay for me to know which of you I agree with."

Filetran sighed. "It doesn't matter right now. The result won't change, whoever is right." He cocked his head to Jacob. "Get yourself hidden, your guys have a lot of firepower, but you're not bulletproof."

He turned his back. "Glass cannons we're sometimes called. I don't need you to tell me the weakness of my own people. Make sure yours are just as ready. We're probably going to lose people here, all the same, I'd rather not lose the battle."

Filetran pointed Frank and me toward a shop window not far off. "Get to cover you two."

The two of us went.

Inside the shop, there were no lights, but you could make out the shelves and strewn about tables in the fading afternoon light. Frank jumped over what was probably the front counter, aiming his rifle over the top, probably just adjusting himself to the position. "Got to say, I find your position in all this really interesting Allen," he said.

I rolled my eyes and positioned myself a few feet back behind a table. "How's that?"

"Well the way I see it, it really is possible everyone is wrong and gargoyles really are just people. I mean, it's a pretty slim chance I think, but possible. But here's the thing, no matter who's right, if there's a fight here, your opposition will be able to use it to prove the gargoyles are blood-thirsty monsters. Then the gargoyles, no matter if you're right or wrong, if they experience losses, they'll see themselves as defending themselves."

"Aren't we assuming they took our children?"

"Maybe, but, if they're just human, from their perspective, they probably just got our attention. I mean hell, they could have killed the kids at any time right? From their view, we broke into a refugee camp ready to kill every man, woman, and child. That might not be our goal, but what does this look like?" I bit my lip. "So what'ya gonna do? Leave and abandon your only child and a bunch of kids who look up to you, or fight to justify a war you think shouldn't even be happening? I mean, there are no other options are there?"

"I'm not leaving my son."

"So you're gonna help me kill gargoyles," he said with a chuckle.

I shook my head. "Just shut up Frank... just shut up."

I thought for a moment. "Ya know- you do remember Jackson in this moment right?" Frankie bit his lip. 

"Don't think I could forget if I tried." Frankie closed his eyes.

(***)

The memory played in my head for a moment.

January 1962

Portland, Oregon

The night air was cool and the abandoned warehouses around us were the perfect setting- setting for... what we had to do. 

Frankie and I hunkered behind the overturned sedan we had ridden here in, retreating from our target to lead him away from population centers. "Jackson!" I shouted over the engine block. "Just stand down. No need to run into a wolf precinct and start tearing up... We can talk this out."

"Talk? Talk!?" came a shout. "Did anyone talk to my daughter?"

"Buddy, she put two boys in the hospital," I said

"Maybe they shouldn't have cornered her."

"You were given drugs to help with her moods- all wildmen have to take them-"

"And all wildmen deal with your crummy supply lines and demand we continue our lives even without them... and yet, your people shot her dead."

"She would be a danger anywhere- it's just the reality of what wildmen are- you know that."

"I would move," Frankie said suddenly over my shoulder. I rolled back on his cue as the wheel of a truck smashed through the engine block and took the entire front end of the car with it.

"What do we do man?" I asked.

"Well- just a thought here- you could stop trying to reason with a grieving father by using the "harsh truths" approach."

"But I'm not wrong-"

"Never heard of a tranquilizer dart?" He sighed. "Besides. Lucky you, I'm also off my meds today." With that, Frank jumped over the overturned vehicle. I watched as he ran for the blond-haired Jackson, both of them in tattered clothes. Frank slammed into the man and the two slammed into the ground throwing punches and grappling for position, Frank even throwing a punch that impacted the pavement and- sent cracks through the stone.

I scanned the area around me quickly. I could just fire my gun at the battle, but then I could just as easily hit Frank. And even so- I didn't really want to chance killing Jackson either. As Frank was thrown off Jackson, my eyes settled on a small abandoned skateboard nearby. I jumped over to it, grabbed and slung it as Jackson was moving back and getting ready to stomp on Frank's head. He took one more step back, right onto the board.

Like that, Jackson was on his back, Frank and I now both with our 45 caliber handguns drawn and pointed at him. "For what it's worth- they should have tried a trank first," Frank said. Jackson just glared at us, but stayed put.

Jackson paused. "You know... what's your name?" he asked, looking up at me.

"Allen," in that moment I was starting to feel a little haughty about what I had just pulled off, and... it was probably audible.

"You know, the way you talk- I wanted to squash you like a bug. Like my girl just died because of what she was, like that made it alright."

"It wasn't al-"

Jackson held up a hand. "I get it Al. It wasn't. But you know, not every werewolf would have avoided drawing his weapon on his wildman partner either, and then to avoid killing me too..." he looked down. "I... with you, I'll go quietly."

I looked down. "I... I'm about to be a father myself. You think I can just-"

"I'm just as much a man as you... I hate those guards, but not you. There... there were other ways to deal with an angry teenage girl than killing her."

"She was killed... they should have tried harder not to..." I bit my tongue. "They didn't because..."

"We all know why," Frankie said letting his grip on his weapon relax as Jackson slowly got to his feet, keeping his distance from us. 

(***)

Back in our present:

"We started our training to be special forces that day," Frankie said with a grin.

"You know I'm not talking about that."

"You talking about your golden heart Al? I know about it- never wonder why I keep volunteering to be on missions with ya?"

I paused.

"If you don't think I understand the things you're saying about prejudice- of course I do." He looked down. "But let's not forget- Jackson went to jail and those guards- "were just doing their job". Some of us gave up looking for an ideal outcome a long time ago."

"If we have a chance here..." I said, leaving a pause.

"A chance? Take a chance your son probably won't be going home- think on that before you find another skateboard Al."