Drabble 1: Beginning.

The knock startled her. She knew it was coming, but any knock was immediately suspicious and startling. It wasn't the time for idle house visits. She flicked the lock, "Oliver, you were--"

But it wasn't Oliver. No, it was golden buttons and green fabric. A soldier.

Ingrid's eyes flashed up from the mirage of medals on the soldier's chest and peered into his eyes. The scene played out before her. She wrote it in her mind:

The girl remembered the knife in her boot. She shoved him into the hallway wall, found her blade, and plunged it between his ribs. Quick and clean, except for the pooling blood. There was half a beat of shocked silence and then nothing. No threat. No hatred. Nothing, but the rising smell of death in an already dead place. 

Ingrid's hands remained in place, one against the door frame, the other touching both her hip and the door beside it. She had to let the soldier live, but he would not pass through this door. He would not even catch a glimpse of her brother.

Ingrid watched his lips move without recognition. Blinding fire lapped at the inside of her heart, a familiar hatred caused by the appearance of another violent outsider. 

The abrupt stillness of his mouth told her that she had been quiet for too long. She blinked. "I was captured by the phantoms."

She intentionally used a phrase common among the natives. Unlike these strange foreigners, they did not lose themselves in their thoughts; they were captured by their ghostly aspirations.

The soldier's smile wavered like a flag shaken by the wind. "I asked you if you were expecting someone, Miss...?"

It was just like them to search for a name and not give one in return. "Only Oliver." She ignored the request for her name.

"Oliver?" His boots clicked as he straightened. "Visits are strictly forbidden at this time."

Ing forced a laugh, "Officer, you're mistaken. Oliver is not a person." A lie. "He's the hallway cat."

"I... A cat, miss?" He almost believed it. Almost... "How could a cat knock?"

Ingrid was still laughing. This was the funniest story in the world, she told herself. The funniest in the world. "Oh, no one's told you? The cat, Oliver. He comes leaping down the hall. He's such a hyper thing. He's practically made of bounces. He just flies down this hallway. I'd mistaken your boots for the sound of his paws, you see? And once he decides which door he likes the best he just--" Ing was momentarily distracted by the real Oliver sticking his head around the corner of the hallway behind the soldier's back. She was going to kill him. She was just going to kill that boy.

"He just what, Miss?" The officer had the beginnings of a smile on his face. He must have a soft spot for cats, Ingrid thought. Her story was not that great.

"He just bounds right into it! Just like he was falling in love with the wood!" Her smile had become tight. It was all she could do to keep her lips from wavering.

The soldier let out the barest chuckle. "Oliver the cat, huh? Well I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm doing a routine check of rooms. Might I come in?"

"Come in?" Ingrid bit her lip, playing anxious. "My little brother is asleep."

"I won't wake him. I just need to come in and check the room over. It's my job, you know."

Ingrid imagine all the words she wanted to say were written on her blood cells, running rampantly through her body. They were locked there, cycling. She stepped back. She had nothing to hide... yet. She stood in front of Liam's sleeping form as the soldier glanced around the room.

He hardly bothered with anything. He actually seemed to be taking into account the sleeping child. He tipped his hat, "Thanks, Miss." Even this he said in a whisper as he headed back out the door.

He closed the door on the way out. It opened just minutes later. Ingrid was on her feet, her hand hovering over her boot.

Oliver. She ran to hug him. "You idiot!" She whispered as she squeezed him tight. "You're such an idiot. Where the hell have you been?!"

"I got held up. And so did you apparently... Is everything alright?" He hugged her back without the intention of letting go.

Ingrid broke free of his grasp. "Yes, he barely looked in here. There's no way we can start tonight..."

She took in the ripped jeans and dirty flannel shirt of her best friend. Together, they were going to bring back learning to the children. Her eyes traveled across to her brother. Liam had her at least to learn, but the other kids... What did the other kids have?

"Tomorrow," Oliver said. "Tomorrow at the farm house. The cellar." He pressed something into her hand. A flashlight. She didn't even stop to wonder how he'd stolen it, and she didn't have time to ask. He was already gone.

A false start. Tomorrow, they would begin.


Notes: Solider is not NF. Soldier is NF's best friend. Hints: soft spot for cats.