Flight of the Argonauts: Part 1 of 3

Dream Info: November 18, 1998
Realism Intensity: 3
Content: PG-13

We stood to the side of the door as we rang the bell and cocked our guns. We raised and readied them. My partner, a blond with a serious face and an incredible figure, and I had been sent with one objective. She nodded to me. I jumped to the door, kicked it down, and dove in rolling on my back and shooting. The man at the table was killed instantly; my partner was at my side and had taken out the other man coming from the bathroom. No attempts at negotiating. No chance for our targets to escape. Our objective had been achieved easily; this time.

A few hours later we found ourselves being drawn into a small café at the mall. We were both exhausted from the day’s mission. It was my partner’s treat this time, and as she paid for the coffee I grabbed a small table.

We sat sipping our coffee and discussing the latest news. She was commenting on how ugly the new bell bottom pants, the current fashion, were when I spilled coffee in my lap; she laughed. I jumped up in pain—

There were loud shouts and a few shots from the lower mall floor out in the hall. We looked at each other and darted out the café door. I looked over the railing as two men sprinted by below. My gun was in my hand in a flash and I squeezed the trigger gently. Nothing happened. My partner pulled out her gun and took out both of them cleanly, just as they were entering the parking garage. I jerked the trigger several times extremely hard and my pistol finally shot.

“It wasn’t my fault! I fired! Nothing happened! My gun has a malfunction.” She glared at me disbelievingly as I sputter this out. We both knew we had state-of-the-art weapons, the best the government could make, and they did not just ‘malfunction.’

The next day at the mall again.

Three men in pinstriped suits calmly stepped into a large see-through elevator and rode to the next floor as I dashed around the corner. I frantically hit at the doors as they exited on the floor above. The elevator zoomed down, and the giant light-blue doors finally allowed me access. I pushed the button and the elevator shot upward and as it came to the next floor and stopped I jumped to get that flying feeling (As I always do in an elevator), only then did I realize that this was one of the new low-grav lifts. I jumped and didn’t come down. I kicked wildly as the door opened revealing the three men breaking into a shop at the side of the to the side of the elevator. My foot finally found the wall of the elevator and I propelled myself out the door, only I was ten feet up in the air. I crashed to the ground, rolled, flipped, rolled again— dodging their fire. All the while I was aiming at them and pulling my trigger. It would click but nothing would come out.

I had crossed the hall, rolling and jumping, and was now opposite the mobsters. As I jumped backwards my gun started working and I shot the three mobsters as I crashed through a large glass window. I had not been shot once. As I got to my feet and climbed back out the window, I noticed my partner with her arms folded leaning against the opposite wall glaring at me.

She suddenly grabbed and shook me. The elevator had just passed carrying more gangsters.

“The other group,” She yelled.

I rushed down the stairs to try to head them off. She ran to the other elevator and sat impatiently waiting for it to come down.

I ran to the bottom floor just as the elevator reached it. I quickly jumped onto the railing at the bottom of the stairs right next to the elevator so the gangsters would not see me as quickly.

The door opened and the men exited, stopped, and all stared at me on the railing frantically pulling the trigger on my gun. Their bald leader walked up to me; I kept my gun pointed at his head as I continued to pull the trigger, but nothing happened.

“Well well, Mr. Parker. It is so nice to see you again.” The lead gangster laughed, signaling his henchmen to kill me. They raised their guns, aimed, and dropped dead. The leader turned as my trusty partner shot him; he collapsed in a heap on the floor.

Once again she gave me a glare that could freeze boiling water. I attempted to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. I stood there opening and closing my mouth with a stupid frown on my face.

Suddenly the elevator started upward. Four more gangsters could be seen through the glass on the upper floor. We darted down the stairs to the lower floors; the stairs jackknifed every ten steps.

We passed through the lower floor, which happened to be a library, and my partner continued her descent, however I stopped on the library level and looked up the stairs to see where the gangsters were. The goons were catching up quickly. I knew I had to descend faster so I hopped over the railing to fall to the jackknife below. But as I landed with a thud, I realized that somehow I was still on the library floor. I’d jumped over the railing, fallen, and landed right where I had just jumped from. What?

I darted away from the stairs to hide behind one of the chest high bookcases that were scattered across the giant room, as I did so I noticed another staircase on the opposite side of the library.

I heard a shout and turned to see my partner at the stairs yelling, “Trevor! Come on!”

“Get outta here. They’re on top of us!” I shouted, but instead of going down the stairs, she started towards me. “No,” I continued. “Get down the stairs! Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. You just get back to HQ… NOW!”

With that, she darted down the stairs with one last worried glance at me. The gangsters reached the floor and split into two groups, two after me, two continuing down the stairs after her.

I dove behind a bookcase further to the back of the room. All the bystanders continued looking at their books as if nothing was going on. I scanned for the two men hunting me, but couldn’t find them. I was in a bad situation.

I ran, crouched, to another bookcase somewhat closer to the stairs. I peeked around the side of the case, nothing. Instinct told me that the men were behind me, so with a smile on my face, I stood up and turned. Sure enough, a gangster was three feet away with his gun pointed at my head. His friend was a bookcase away smiling at me.

I struck the gun out of the first goons’ hand with lightening speed. It clattered to the ground a few feet away, but he didn’t even attempt to go after it. He lowered his hand and just stood there, a smile cracked his lips.

It suddenly came to mind that I had not been watching the back staircase at the opposite side of the library. Instinct told me again what to expect as I turned. Once again, I found myself staring guns aiming at my face. Four gangsters had entered. A person pushed by one of them and walked up to me.

Smiling, she said, “Hello Mr. Parker. You’ve been a thorn in my side for far to long. You’ve killed some of my best men, and I’m just glad that I’ll be the one who gets the honor of killing you. Lord knows how many of my mob bosses would pay for this honor.”

Susan Packer turned and coughed before finishing. “Yes, and don’t worry, your little friend will not escape either. What was her name?”

Just as Susan said that last line, a violent but quick barrage of gun shots echoed into the room from the floors below. Then there was silence.

“Oh well, I guess her name’s not important now,” Susan laughed.

I screamed and collapsed to the floor. Everything went black. The goons moved closer to get a better look at my anguish.

Them Bears

Dream Info: Saturday, April 4, 2009
Realism Intensity: 3
Content: PG-13

Up in the hills just outside of the city was a nice resort of sorts. It was set on the foot hills overlooking the valley.

People were strolling about in the warm sunshine. I was walking near the edge of the resort. The bushes moved and out clambered a large grizzly bear. He was several hundred feet up the road so I didn’t feel threatened. I just stopped walking and stared. The bear scratched itself and then started lumbering lazily towards me. I walked slowly backwards and then turned down a side street, into the resort, leaving before anything bad happened.

I saw no more of the bear. I had an urgent message for the owner of the resort, and continued on my way to her house forgetting about the oddity of a bear in this area.

As I drew close to the house, again the bushes shook ahead of me. I froze as the bear jumped out onto the road. It stood and roared. I was being stalked. Behind me, people stopped their morning walks and those at the café lowered the cups of cappuccino.

“Run. Get out of here,” I cried to them, then turned and fled myself. The crowd vanished into buildings. The bear rushed after me.

I was going to die, I knew it. And I ran fueled with fear. I outran a young boy who was wheezing with exertion. I looked over my shoulder as the bear, catching him, crashed and rolled on the ground; the boy clasped in its great claws. I was overjoyed. The boy distracted the bear which was allowing me to escape. What luck; I was going to live.

I stopped running, consumed with guilt. What had I just thought? That was terrible. So I turned and ran back. Against a building was a stack of chopped wood. I grabbed a log and hurled it at the bear. Again and again I threw. The bear drew back, startled by the sudden attack. Confused it retreated to the nearest trees leaving the boy on the ground. I rushed forward, lifted the boy, and together we ran inside a nearby building.

The building had several rooms and large glass windows. In fact, the door was glass. It wouldn’t keep a grizzly bear out long. I locked it as the bear sprinted from the trees towards us.

There were several people inside the store, a gift shop of sorts, who looked at us questioningly. I pulled everyone into the center of the room, away from the windows. The bear slammed into the door. The glass cracked but held. The bear battered angrily. I led everyone through the rooms to another door. But as we reached it, three more bears attacked. That door was glass as well. We were surrounded. I was shocked at how cunningly the bears had apparently planned this.

The first bear crashed through the door. One of the others had worked its way in through a window. The third and fourth worked on the back door. One had its paw through the bottom and was shattering the glass in a widening hole. The sound of roaring, breaking glass, and screaming filled my ears.

Then I woke up.