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Chapter summary: Vaughn liberates a bunch of people. Elias can't sleep and makes some decisions and receives a weird offer.
Chapter Art- Vaughn's Mask, a World War One Tanker Splatter Mask

Alien-Nation Chapter 169: Jailbreak

A Leslie's Pool Supplies retail outlet made for a strange rally point for any group of people, even moreso now that the whole strip mall along what had been Concord Pike had long since closed. The stainless letters spelled the forgotten name of the shopping center, still proudly adorned the top of the diagram of blank signs ensured at least the brick obelisk was a conveniently obvious marker for the men to find and make preparations for assaulting the jail.
'Morningstar' squadron had swelled their cell's numbers to well over twenty by absorbing the miscellaneous fragments of other cells, whose skills were more generalized. The name carried over to the newly formed Strike Force by virtue of being both the largest and the lynchpin of the operation's success.
This was the largest force of the three organized groups they'd split into, each aiming to try and hit the larger jails along Route 202, the other two branches making a target list of their own. Vendetta had given them an extra half hour to at least get themselves close to in-position, but with only one shortwave had no way of knowing if they would coordinate their strike. He was a known element to everyone even if only by name. At least Elias's words stayed true; All seemed very familiar and well-practiced with their carried weaponry. More importantly, none contested his assigned leadership or questioned his orders.
Vaughn cradled the RPG he'd been given, eyeing the well-lit building just over the carefully landscaped hill. The last had been over a half hour ago. The box-mart across the old highway was the temporary headquarters of the repositioned Troop One, after the suburbs near Camp Death had been cleared, likely soon to be repositioned again. But the size of the old box-mart seemed to indicate several things, that it was largely indefensible, could contain a fair few prisoners, and by its proximity to Camp Death, could be useful to strike regardless.
The flow of traffic was unusually heavy for being well before the crack of dawn. Perhaps people were trying their luck getting up old 202 to try and reach the border that way, after having no luck along other closed border checkpoints. There was a feeling of self-consciousness in carrying heavy weapons out in the open along a suburban highway most had driven along during peacetime, the juxtaposition of old familiar environment and newly familiar activity showing just how much their lives had changed. Moreso as cars rolled along it like it was a Friday night of olde, the two lives- old and new, bumping shoulders for a moment.
"You ready?" He asked, snapping them back to the present.
Mutters of assent was good enough. Haltingly, everyone in the mishmashed strike team moved toward the precinct's bright lights, taking advantage of the long shadows and occasional noise of the passing cars.
It was an unassuming building, the repurposed garrison made out of some retail outlet built back in the turbulent seventies, all brick and little else but tiny glass doors, with not even windows for the occupants to know the impending violence had been approaching. What era will this be known as? Early Imperial? Resistance? Revolutionary? Wondered the teen, as he leveled it at the lobby. Good? Bad? Hell, I'm just the man with the gun.
Everyone levelled their weapons as once, and Vaughn held a hand high. "We're here to liberate the prison, not blow it sky high," he chuckled. It was hardly armored or reinforced- or at least, so it seemed to him. And if it was, then the Data Center had shown the virtue of striking the same spot with concentrated fire beat showering it with dispersed impacts.
At least the glass door looked normal enough. "Bump and grind, forward. Forward!" He hissed. "Aim at that- there- the front door." Easy enough for the homemade launcher to hit, and these were arguably of the lowest utility if things went sideways. Elias had taught him asset management well- it was a waste to throw your best equipment at a stationary target. While the design was tried-and-tested, Vaughn still took a few steps away.
The improvised launcher let out a metallic clunk, and with a surprisingly subdued noise and recoil the projectile was sent tumbling freely, end over end, the cap blown clean off the improvised launcher. A second later, the giant projectile more than made up for it as the round smashed through the glass door, taking the automatic door slightly off the rails and bowing slightly inward- before then blowing both them and a hail of glass fragments outward as the detonation went off inside the main lobby.
Someone in a security forces uniform staggered out.
"Infantrymen, Fire!" Vaughn roared to the infantrymen, most of Morningstar dutifully restraining themselves as a hail of bullets sprayed into the storefront and even stitched up the exterior brickwork. Clearly, some insurgents were better trained than others judging by the tracer rounds and slowly tapering off rounds.
"Advance and reload! Morningstar, spread out and cover!"
The smoke and dust was subdued, at least for now, and left them with a surprisingly clear view into the front entrance. Red streaks were painted up on the wall, black and grey of smoke-dusted debris mixed in like a spin-art collage.
The lobby's contents were an absolute shambles- everything set on a ledge had been knocked about, including the ledges and desks themselves. The security forces inside responded by charging out the main doors to follow just a second later.
A hail of gunfire met them, most of the armored troopers flinching reflexively, their armor plates overlapping and protecting their wearer. A few reflexively tried returning fire despite the harsh stings of rounds tugging on the mix of fabric, bulletproof weave, and shattering off the neosteel plate they wore. The gunfire never let up on those unfortunate few who had charged out from their cover, the complete lack of coordination, dissimilar reloading times from infantry with unequal amounts of time spent with their weapons. Effective equipment and enthusiasm was undercut by poor training, surprise, and total lack of a plan to counter being outnumbered. Morningstar, on the other hand, had the numbers, the angle, and the element of surprise.
One by one the Security Forces lay flat. Either they were dead, had the fight knocked out of them, or were trying to present as minimal target as they could while they lined up their own rifles to return fire. It was hard to say for certain what the intent was, but the outcome was little different. Round after round continued pouring into them from dozens of unevenly sized magazines, an RPG or two sending the bodies of any who tried opening fire tumbling, their limbs likely held on by the durable material underneath. When they landed, their bodies folded like misshapen laundry, pressed into unnatural shapes with the wearer still inside.
The whole front engagement was over in less than a minute. A pale, non-gauntleted hand waved frantically from behind a shattered brick front, red streaking down the fingers.
"Hold!" Vaughn shouted. "Identify!" The hand continued waving, and Vaughn shoved an unwitting volunteer forward to pull the man out from behind, to reveal a man in a stained tee shirt with a dazed expression and blood dripping from a series of scratches on his cheeks, cut in like a cat's claws had raked over them.
"Civilian!" Vaughn bellowed over his ringing ears. "Any others inside?"
The man shook his head and mouthed 'no,' his voice seemingly too hoarse- perhaps from having spent an untold amount of time screaming.
The man was wrong- there were, or at least 'had been' more security forces inside. A sudden blast and the tinkering of shrapnel caused Vaughn to duck, then charge forward, his improvised explosive launcher discarded, swinging his shotgun around from his back to rest in his hands. A Technical had tried to leave via a service bay exit, apparently not even managing to round the corner before an RPG wielded by a Morningstar veteran had upended the uparmored pickup as it pulled out.
A survivor crawled from the wreckage, and Vaughn sprinted forward, pressing the barrel against the shivering man's temple as he raised his empty hands. The wet splatter kicked high, and Vendetta checked for any other survivors, the smoking tip of his shotgun wafting grey in the fluorescent tubes of the old retail outlet.
The technicals were indeed tough, he noted, but the round seemed to have flown into a wheel well, bypassing the plating. No one else inside seemed to be moving- yet still, he made certain. There'd be no theatrics of announcing himself to an enemy who played dead by standing in the open and giving orders, letting them try and exact some measure of revenge, or gasping out some warning to the shil'vati. No, a strike was to be calculated, and that calculation was to be total.
Two minutes later and a clear picture of the aftermath had emerged. Over five hundred prisoners rescued from the cells, cramped together like sardines, hastily erected concrete laid in a grid backstopping a prefab prison. PVC pipes ran from room to room for toilets no less roughshod in their construction, set straight into the dirty linoleum. Quite a few of the prisoners were deafened somewhat. The skeleton crew of Security Forces personnel hadn't stood a chance- supposedly, most were out, working from some kind of list, or perhaps had finished their shift after a long day of throwing people into prison.
Vaughn gestured with the shotgun. "There's your exit, people. If you're still undecided about the Shil'vati, then this was your wake-up call. If you're still undecided about us, then I'm not sure what to tell you. We just risked our lives to save yours. You want to pay it back? You can either pay it forward by helping us with the next prison, or you can help the Emperor of Mankind. Blankets, food, water, soldiers, guns, ammo, whatever you've got that you think might help. He hasn't said it, but I reckon you all owe him, if you've got a decent bone in your body, you'll at least bring him something, offer to try and help. If you want, you can listen in on the radio for instructions, and if you haven't got a shortwave, I'll separate off a few from our strike squad who can fill you in and get you there, if you feel like chipping in on the war effort."
Vaughn lowered the shotgun, taking a shell off his bandoleer and loading it in to replace the one he'd fired.
"That went well," Parker remarked. "And not a bad speech. Short, to the point, and all that. Honestly, I wish I'd brought a whole crew. One for the close-up on that impact. But, uh, that execution..."
"Completely necessary," Vaughn snapped, irritatedly. "That guy was fatally wounded. Putting him out of his misery was an act of mercy. And you'll remember to narrate that, if you got that on film."
"Of course." Parker didn't deny where he'd been aiming the camera- saving Vaughn at least the headache of reviewing the footage, and then having to kill Parker, if it turned out he'd been lying.
"I'm starting to think of these jail cells as something more like a pinata full of prizes. Namely, insurgents and good PR," he muttered. Truth be told, he'd wanted more of a fight. Vaughn pulled the radio from his pocket, and sent out the broadcast. "Done here. 202 North has been cleared. About four fifty good to go in some sense of the word, though where's anyone's guess. Tried sending them your way, don't know if they'll take it. Another fifty will need medical treatment. No casualties on our end. Surprise was total. We've got pictures. No enemies taken prisoner."
Vendetta stared around the lobby, an idea slowly dawning on him.
"Hey! Hey hey hey! Snag armor off any of the ones that you can. Grab any goods that are stocked up, and arm up anyone who says they're headed to Camp Death with the weapons the guys had here. Come on, we can't stay too long here. You-" he pointed at a man who had held down the trigger on his rifle, spraying the building at full auto. "-You're fucking useless at fighting. Gather up the ones who are able and willing to fight, get them packed into a civilian-style police cruiser, and drive them on over to Camp Death. Everyone, help him load up. Get everything you can out of the Evidence lockers into the trunks- they can fit a lot, trust me, I'd know. Camp Death's going to need goodies. Come on, move, people, move!"
Morningstar Squadron had re-mustered on Vendetta.
"Alright, now what?" They almost seemed eager for more.
A smile crept across Vendetta's face, invisible to all as he pointed at the row of vehicle keys.
"I think it's time we hit 141 and a couple more," he muttered, pulling it off the hook. "Now...wheelman, shotgun, or turret?"

"Accidentally Cut Content"

[Author's Note: Hey Everyone. I made a really dumb mistake and included part of the next chapter in the previous one's end in my rush to get it out the door. So the first couple paragraphs will be a repeat, but this IS a new chapter. I even updated those first four or five paragraphs slightly.]
I couldn't sleep well on the cot that night. Though I noticed hours ticked by, every moment seemed to be spent tossing and turning. I even tried resting with the mask off, held in my hands, but the risk to my identity being discovered if anyone barged in caused me enough stress to worsen the situation. Eventually, I gave up, kicked the covers off and donned the mask again, making my rounds around the camp, trying to calm myself down by taking a midnight stroll. Instead, I felt eyes countless following me, and I had to force myself to stand tall for them. For the thousandth time, I thought of this as my Valley Forge.
As I patrolled, I could hear whispered prayers, muttered plans of action, and mercifully, snores. At least some were getting some sleep. I could see orange lights reflecting off the clouds from where I knew Wilmington lay. It seemed Vaughn was keeping busy, if indeed it was his handiwork.
A few shipment inspections and a routine update from a sentry later, and I felt caught up to speed. I noticed Radio from the corner of my eye, seemingly also unable to sleep.
I almost jumped a foot in the air when I felt the tap on my shoulder, only to find G-Man's mask staring into mine. How strange that such a haunting visage was a comfort to me.
"Hey. Can't sleep?" He sounded surprisingly serene. Or maybe it was just tired resignation. His hands seemed stuck in a familiar claw-like shape after holding the soldering iron for so long, and my fingers ached in sympathy. My mask's filters took much of the scent of smoke I could smell from the distant fires, but I was sure that if I wasn't wearing my mask that G-Man would smell faintly of molten silver solder. I'd wondered how we'd repaired and updated so many railguns so quickly. Now I knew what he'd put himself through.
"I can't," I confessed. "G-Man, I'm sorry what happened with your father. Hell of a birthday." I hadn't even had a chance to give him the present I'd bought him- a couple new filters, and vintage craftsman toolkit, 'from before they sold out,' as Verns had phrased it. The memory of his voice already felt distant, somehow.
"Wasn't your fault. Even if Town Hall wasn't your big idea to get them to retaliate, you know? Then they'd still have done something. But, uh, thanks for saying that. And thanks for trying to get dad out. I'll remember that." George said quietly, then the conversation ended when he turned away and went to the edge of the embankment. Just like that.
I could never quite get a read on him, but I wanted to respect his distance. Whatever he was feeling, he seemed to want to feel it alone, and to keep his own counsel on the matter.
I continued course toward Radio.
"Any word from Miskatonic?" I asked hopefully.
Radio offered a noncommittal shrug, then dropped it in a hurry, raising one hand to massage his chest. "They say 'this is your war,' but did ship us a small container."
"I saw."
I hadn't exactly expected them to line up alongside us in the trenches in their white coats, but I'd hoped they'd have had some kind of wonder drug or noxious gas we might deploy. Something toxic to the Shil'vati but not us. The best they'd given us so far were experimental bullets and toxic-tipped arrows and knives, the former of which supposedly could potentially the armor, if fired with enough force and impacted with a good angle. If true, then I supposed they might be moderately useful in an ambush, and they had helpfully included a pair of compound bows. I had conducted a pretty decent survey of the defense, but I hadn't thought to ask if any were experienced archers. I also couldn't imagine taking someone off a railgun, large caliber rifle, or even an old cannon to hand them a bow and arrow without feeling like I was somehow offering them an insult without equipping it myself, and there was better I could think to do with the remaining minutes before the Shil'vati would inevitably come looking than to practice.
They'd fallen out of favor for a reason, and it wasn't that the earliest guns outperformed bows.
They had also supplied a small cache of rifles that were more likely to pulverize than penetrate unless the armor had been compromised already. These were still appreciated, but hardly the game changer I wanted in return for all we'd sent them.
Then Radio leaned in, voice kept conspiratorially low. "They did, however, mention an exfiltration for you."
Sam had been right, I wouldn't get back anything close to the value of what I'd sent out. At least, not unless I was willing to abandon everything and everyone, to cut and run for my life. Such a decision would be the inglorious end of the revolution, spelling doom for everyone in it, and all of humanity's culture. I'd forever be remembered as a coward, if I was so lucky to be remembered at all.
"Well, I'm not going."
"Okay, but here's a real head-scratcher. Did you show them where Camp Death is? I've been careful not to broadcast our coordinates, and my little helpers haven't been talking with Miskatonic. And the person on the shortwave mentioned that the border would free up tomorrow morning, then mentioned the interstate right up against the back of our base as a meeting point. They said Last Exit Before Pennsylvania. That's right there." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "And I didn't mention broadcasting without a cat's paw or relay. I mean there's a chance they triangulated, but throwing together a plan that fast? Nah, man, they knew."
I searched my memory. "I'm certain that I didn't mention it to them...did Hex? She did that internship. No, wait, she got picked up and dropped off at Warehouse Base. Unless she mentioned something on the drive past? She said they were somewhere North." Now that Radio had mentioned it, I was left with a bit of a puzzle. How did they know? How much did they know about us?
"They had to have known somehow. And if they didn't know before and just figured our location out, then I bet you it's not long before the Shil'vati figure it out themselves and come sniffing," Radio resignedly threw a hand up. "Should we update the signal? Start directing people straight here?"
We had numbers, yes, but we could still do to take more in, especially if the fighting dragged on or casualties mounted higher than I projected. "How long until they're sure we're here?"
Radio yawned under his mask, the animated glass-plated mask he wore misinterpreting it with an ASCII shocked ":O" face. "We've been broadcasting all night, so, who knows?"
"Well, if it was just a signal they picked up on any random given day, how long would it typically take for the Shil'vati to muster a response?"
"Depends on the day." At my silent stare, he objected further. "They sometimes respond pretty fast to that sort of thing, but these aren't normal times, E. They used to come to check out wherever I broadcast from within an hour or two or two, but remember, they've kind of got their hands full right now thanks to Vendetta's jailbreaks. Plus, there's so many more signals." He checked the screen of his shortwave and chuckled, then lightly massaged his chest again. "I'm sure we've already gone way past."
"Alright. If we see anyone snooping around us, add our location to the broadcast. That way, anyone in the resistance or is sympathetic but isn't sure where Camp Death is can find their way here. In the meantime, though, I still think we're best not leaking it. At least with the sentries having set in the final claymores and outer defenses, we should be well-situated to ward off anything they throw at us."
"Maybe. Maybe not," George said from behind me, and I froze.
"Why not?"
He'd helped build this place. He'd know any weaknesses as well as his father.
"They might have cloaking tech, or some other means of infiltration," his voice was a dry rasp.
I shuddered thinking about it. "That's a good point," I muttered. "Assassination and recovery might be up their alley...except, I think they're terrified of what losing me might mean for their hostages."
"I'll be honest. I don't think she cares at this point," G-Man countered. I couldn't fault his gloomy disposition. I could just hope that he didn't want something bad to happen to us, to balance out that something bad had happened to him, from some weird sense of fairness.
"Yeah?"
"Think about it for a second. What happens if you die? Then what does that let her do if that happens?"
It was with a startle I realized he had a good point. Azraea had committed to a shocking all-in, something that would shake the political landscape and memories of countless denizens of the state. Months of carefully planned schemes involving carefully planned defensive patrols meant to reinforce one another, frustrate, and hinder our operations had culminated in us adapting, learning. We thought we had her beaten, especially when we destroyed her monitoring, data collection, and reporting asset in Something Else Square. Then she'd pulled something like this out of a hat, catching us totally flat-footed, rounding up who-knew how many of us before we could muster. What other assumptions had I made that were incorrect? Would she hold fire, if she knew where I was if it meant sparing the hostages? Or were they now just an 'acceptable, if regrettable' loss? When your opponent becomes unpredictable, issues arise, especially when you're counting on them to do certain things.
If it was, then I'd just done her work for her, and all of us would be dead the moment she figured out where we were, and at least the end would come faster than I knew it had arrived.
I realized I was staring up into the orange-lit cloudy night sky. I could voice none of this, not without undermining morale and potentially sparking a panic.
"If she was going to start bombarding the state, she'd have started already by now," I chuckled. "The borders are sealed, right? Why wait? Why bother trying to build some sense of dread? She's not a vampire who feeds on fear. I choose to not be afraid of what she may do. I instead intend to plan around it, to the extent that we can. Besides, if I die, what would the twins do to the hostages?"
George made a disappointed growl, his sore hands turning from awkward claws into shaking fists. "That may be the point. If the Twins do anything to the hostages in retaliation for your death, then maybe as long as she didn't pull the trigger, she thinks she'll be absolved of whatever damage their deaths mean to them."
I wasn't sure she thought that way. Heck, after months, the woman was still an absolute enigma to me. Governess Bal'shir, I understood- the flurry of speeches and photo-ops and handshakes at civic meetings with 'literally-who's-that' of 'what-community' had been carte blanche for us to grow. Ministriva was a lying snake, and once we pieced that together, I ripped her apart. But Azraea? What drove the Fleet Admiral to come down here? Duty. There wasn't any sort of hard policy she followed that I could tell, not that I knew Shil'vati military doctrine well, being an outsider such as I was. Perhaps it was the greater liberty afforded her of being both Governess and General that made it seem like her plans shifted and changed in ways that made it hard for me to keep up. Or maybe she was just at such a rank and in such a position of power to where she could make her judgment calls. If so, that begged the question: What was 'the line' for her? I had a feeling I'd somehow crossed it already. Probably Radio's tape of me fucking the Empress, if I was to be honest. Most unfair to be judged for something that hadn't been my decision, though I doubted an apology from either of us would amount to much.
I looked over to my Lieutenants. They'd helped carry me this far. I'd be foolish to ignore them now. What could I do to at least mitigate the risk that he was right, and there was someone looking to kill me, right here and now?
"Alright, fine, you've convinced me. Instruct the sentries to get the next dozen people who we intake to help patrol the inner perimeter, and to keep a watch for...well, I mean, a stealthy seven foot tall purple alien with giant tits?"
"Something invisible," George supplied.
"Alright, for anything shifting in the tall grasses that they can't immediately see- I can't really ask them to keep an eye out for something they can't see, can I?" I was suddenly too tired to think properly.
"I'll explain it," G-Man offered.
"And I'll get the sentries ready to take over the radio, explaining how it works, then I'll try heading to bed, too," Radio offered, and I realized that a yawn sounded very strange through a voice modulator- his ASCII helmet seemed to fritz out again for a second.
"I should change my sleeping quarters, too," I muttered. "They'll almost certainly check the command cabin for me, if they manage to enter. I'll pick a tunnel- uh...somewhere."
"Might be smart. Could be they'll try and take out the explosives shed, too. Make it look like an accident on our part, get rid of any hostages, and then get a free pass to exact vengeance on the state. Got anywhere in mind?"
I thought to myself. Where might be a good resting area? There were many tunnels that led to bunkers, firing outposts, and even to stowage areas. Any one of them might do in theory, but I knew of one that overlooked one of the two streams that ran along the side of Camp Death. I didn't want to situate myself either too low to where I was on the very front of the lines- why make an assassin's job even easier by putting myself on the perimeter, after all? But the creek should make a pleasant bit of white noise- and also get me away from the center shed. "Probably facing North, along Perkins run. G-Man, you look absolutely dead on your feet. Get some rest if you can, you've certainly done enough and gone through enough for today."
"There's...still things to do."
"There always will be. If the others are finished doing their repairs, lock the shed," I muttered. "I know the hostages are in there, so post a sentry or two there, too, to watch over the entrance. You're right that she may try some kind of underhanded tactic." It wouldn't do much if they decided to set charges against the side or something, and the subsequent explosion would be, in a word, 'cataclysmic'. "This was supposed to be a relaxing walk to help me rest..." I scratched at my chin under the mask, feeling the beginnings of the few scratchy hairs that had grown since I'd last shaved, and feeling the cool fresh air without the filter as the wind kicked up.
"Sorry," G-Man offered sheepishly. "I'll go tell 'em."
While he ambled off, I followed Radio back to his pile of equipment.
"Before we split then, one last thing."
"Yeah?" Radio asked.
"Have we recovered Verns?" I asked Radio. "Any word?"
"No, not that I've heard," Radio confessed. "Vendetta's been mostly quiet, I think to hide his heading from anyone who might be listening, but I know that he's struck at least three jails and counting. Some of the ones he's freed are trickling up to us here on foot, and it seems he and Morningstar are acting like a human wrecking ball. The troops are calling it Operation Smash-and-Grab."
"Smash-and-grab," I laughed, thinking of the pun. "I like it. Do we have a more recent headcount?"
"Sam said we've got enough to last about three days of continuous, round-the-clock fighting with the hundreds of people we have here. If we get a resupply run- well, I suppose it would depend upon how big a hole gets blasted in the encirclement. Or, well, something to that effect. Look, man, I'm 'Radio', not 'Telephone,' and I don't have the head for this logistics shit that you two do. You want to talk to Sam, you get the man on the radio yourself, or ask one of the Sentries I'm sticking here to manage the comms. Point being, you try and get hold of him. I'm done for the night."
I could have said something witty back, but it felt counterproductive, and would only delay the sleep I was now well overdue for.
"I've got an idea for an update. The ones Vendetta's letting loose? They can gather supplies and wait for the signal to reinforce, or to agitate, or can organize people into a more focused group, one that can punch through whatever blockade they try and form up. It'll also force the Shil'vati to not concentrate forces on our back door-" I pointed back at the interstate. "Even if they clear them out, the opportunity for us to encircle and destroy and then break out is too high for them to really try to do a mass deployment along our back." Sam was, I knew, something of a career criminal. Able to rub elbows with the worst elements of humanity. He was a facilitator, I knew, not really a leader. "Can you tell him-"
Radio was already fiddling with the dial. "Already on it," he muttered. "Lotta profit in looting, should be easy for him to steer people with that, or something. Get some sleep, E."
I went up to a sentry, requisitioned a sleeping bag someone had helpfully brought, went into a trench and told him where I'd be if I was needed. I waved to Radio, and crawled into the gunnery tunnel, almost stepping on another four people already laying in it. I loosened my laces, clutched my sheathed knife, and fell into a fitful sleep.
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Last cycle: 519-522 MCAT 3.9x GPA, IL/Midwest ORM, public state school
400 hours clinical (CNA @ nursing home, volunteering @ free health screenings)
1800 hours research wet lab (1 pub, 1 poster)
400 hours volunteering (tutoring at elementary schools, spreading awareness about vaccines)
1 leadership role org
No IAs/red flags
Applied Jun 25, submitted secondaries early through late August to 29 MDs (hurt me a lot probably). School list wasn't top heavy but included some OOS-unfriendly public schools that I probably didn't have much chance to begin with.
Result: 6 II -> 5 WLs
This cycle, I have added
400 hours research (3 posters, senior thesis, 1 award, 1 leadership position)
80 hours clinical volunteering
100 hours volunteering (food bank, tutoring)
100 hours shadowing
2000 hours clinical anticipated (PCT @ large hospital)
Reworked personal statement
Will submit by first week Hoping to complete all secondaries by end of July
This time, will apply to 45ish MDs (also 8ish DOs but will decide those later):
Umissori Kansas City, MO
UIC
Northwestern
SLU
Rosalind franklin
Carle
UChicago
Mayo clinic
SIU
Wayne State
Hofstra
Albert Einstein
USF Morsani
Iowa
Loyola
Wmed
Creighton
URochester
WashU
Kaiser Permanente
Uminnesota
Cincinatti
Case Western
Umich
Icahn
Pitt
Stony Brook University
Vanderbilt
UVA
Ukansas, Kansas City, KS
UNebraska COM Omaha
Wisconsin School of Public health
Tulane
Duke
Rush
Uarizona Pheonix
UCLA
USC/Keck
Cornell
Stanford
NE Ohio Medical University
Ohio State
Umissouri Columbia, MO
Medical college of Wisconsin
Thomas Jefferson
BostonU
Oakland Beaumont
​
Thank you for the help. Much appreciated!

I had to share this story because I’m finally past the point of denying it ever happened. It took me until my adult life to believe that consciousness could survive death, so I’m ready to accept the reality of the following encounter - the likes of which I haven’t experienced before or since. Quotes of conversations may be different by a few words but otherwise I swear the following to be true and accurate. I also welcome any of your personal stories with the supernatural in the comments, so please do share.
The backdrop was the pandemic, around 2021. I was a community health RN hired to coordinate care for elderly clients of a retirement community in Seattle. Vaccines were just rolling out early for the elderly of our assisted living program in late January of that year.
I was staffing the front desk of the wellness center office when a resident walked in. She was not on the assisted living program but our offices were known to have frequent visits from the independent elderly residents of the building. Independent just means not paying for assisted living services. After all, there were plenty of elderly residents I didn’t know because they didn’t need our services, never had an emergency to receive my care or were fine managing care on their own (or with the help of a relative or private caregiver).
This visitor seemed to be one such independent resident. She popped by the desk, which was unusually slow. Of the three adjoining offices, mine was the only one with any activity in it. The admin assistant was pulled to the floor to pass meds due to a call-out, our nursing director was in meetings, and the remaining staff were delivering care. I was the only person in the area at that particular moment in time.
She walked in without a mask. At peak pandemic, this was strange but sometimes we let it slide. She and I were separated by a clear plastic divider mounted to the desk and I could tell she was dressed to head outside. Really she was the vision of “successful aging” as we sometimes call it in my corner of the industry - she smoothly glided to the desk without a cane or a walker. Her skin was sunkissed enough to know she atleast walked outside when it wasn’t raining. Her eyes were clear and focused and her smile was warm and cheerful. She probably registered for most people as 10 years younger than her actual age.
She asked something to the effect of “Are vaccines still available?” I said my usual spiel - “bring your insurance card and ID and we can help you get signed up for the mobile clinic coming up this week.” She smiled and disappeared around the corner of where she first entered. Months passed and I thought nothing of it.
Late one morning at work, I was at my desk when my walkie blared from my pant-leg pocket. Nurse V. Mr. H fell. Please come. I did my focused assessment. Mr. H was on the floor of his bedroom, cursing. He was frail but still had the most high-functioning scientific mind you could ever find in a 90 something year-old. He missed his wife and would sometimes let slip that he wanted to be with her, but not before finishing his latest biology textbook. He was going to get it published and stay alive long enough to see it go into print.
But first, a hospital visit. He was in too much pain to be lifted from the floor. One 911 call and medics where there within 10 minutes transfer him to a stretcher to whisk him away to the nearby emergency department. After a week in the hospital for a GI bleed and low hemoglobin/hematocrit which likely caused the dizzy spell leading to his fall, he was stabilized and medically ready to return. We recieved him from the hospital with the agreement that a personal 1 to 1 caregiver be assigned to him for 5 days until a nursing assessment could show he was safe to ambulate in the building without that level of assistance.
One afternoon on day 2 of 1 to 1 care, my staff were joking about Mr. H’s caregiver. She said she sees his wife in the room, sitting on the chair in his study. The staff burst into laughter. For all of the past visits I made to his room for routine nursing checks, to see that he was adjusting to the building well, and even the few times our chats turned into serious and heartfelt talks about the state of the world, I had not noticed any pictures of his wife except for the artwork she created of past hikes and vistas they had enjoyed while traveling the world together. I decided to squeeze in a visit to get his vital signs and see how he and his caregiver were treating one another. Naïvely, I thought the ghostly experience of the caregiver could be chalked up to personal spiritual beliefs based on cultural background. She did not come across as mentally unstable, and I trusted the company that vetted her application.
“I sent her to lunch. She is pleasant, quiet. It’s strange to have supervision when I’ve lived six years on my own all alone here.“ I asked if he was referring to the loss of his wife. He nodded.
“Mr. H, I’ve seen her lovely artwork, but I haven’t seen any photos of her!“ He pointed me to the 8x6 photo of the vibrant 80 something-year old woman sitting atop his file cabinet.
It was the same woman I spoke to about vaccines just months prior.
“Mr. H. You said she passed away when?“ He confirmed her final year earthside of 2015, before succumbing to terminal cancer.
I could not believe the math I was doing in my head at that moment. But that was months ago. I didn’t even work at this building six years ago!
I kept my awe and confusion in silence. Then I told him how proud she must be of him. Finished up my visit and headed toward his apartment door.
Before stepping out, I asked him to remind me if he was up to date with his vaccine. “Oh yes. Well I didn’t receive it from your clinic. I got the series about a month later from my general doctor. Changed my mind about it last minute. I have a book to write and I can’t let a nasty bug stop me from putting it into print.”
I think Mr. H has a guardian angel, and I guess I had the privilege of knowing she is still looking out for him.

I had to share this story because I’m finally past the point of denying it ever happened. It took me until my adult life to believe that consciousness could survive death, so I’m ready to accept the reality of the following encounter, the likes of which I haven’t experienced before or since. Quotes of conversations may be different by a few words but otherwise I swear the following to be true and accurate.
The backdrop was the pandemic, around 2021. I was a community health RN hired to coordinate care for elderly clients of a retirement community in Seattle, WA. Vaccines were just rolling out early for the elderly of our assisted living program in late January of that year.
I was staffing the front desk of the wellness center office when a resident walked in. She was not on the assisted living program but our offices were known to have frequent visits from the independent elderly residents of the building. Independent just means not paying for assisted living services. After all, there were plenty of elderly residents I didn’t know because they didn’t need our services, never had an emergency to receive my care or were fine managing care on their own (or with the help of a relative or private caregiver).
This visitor seemed to be one such independent resident. She popped by the desk, which was unusually slow. Of the three adjoining offices, mine was the only one with any activity in it. The admin assistant was pulled to the floor to pass meds due to a call-out, our nursing director was in meetings, and the remaining staff were delivering care. I was the only person in the area at that particular moment in time.
She walked in without a mask. At peak pandemic, this was strange but sometimes we let it slide. She and I were separated by a clear plastic divider mounted to the desk and I could tell she was dressed to head outside. Really she was the vision of “successful aging” as we sometimes call it in my corner of the industry - she smoothly glided to the desk without a cane or a walker. Her skin was sunkissed enough to know she atleast walked outside when it wasn’t raining. Her eyes were clear and focused and her smile was warm and cheerful. She probably registered for most people as 10 years younger than her actual age.
She asked something to the effect of “Are vaccines still available?” I said my usual spiel - “bring your insurance card and ID and we can help you get signed up for the mobile clinic coming up this week.” She smiled and disappeared around the corner of where she first entered. Months passed and I thought nothing of it.
Late one morning at work, I was at my desk when my walkie blared from my pant-leg pocket. Nurse V. Mr. H fell. Please come. I did my focused assessment. Mr. H was on the floor of his bedroom, cursing. He was frail but still had the most high functioning scientific mind you could ever find in a 90 something year-old. He missed his wife and would sometimes let slip that he wanted to be with her, but not before finishing his latest biology textbook. He was going to get it published and stay alive long enough to see it go into print.
But first, a hospital visit. He was in too much pain to be lifted from the floor. One 911 call and medics where there within 10 minutes transfer him to a stretcher to whisk him away to the nearby emergency department. After a week in the hospital for a GI bleed and low hemoglobin/hematocrit which likely caused the dizzy spell leading to his fall, he was stabilized and medically ready to return. We recieved him from the hospital with the agreement that a personal 1 to 1 caregiver be assigned to him for 5 days until a nursing assessment could show he was safe to ambulate in the building without that level of assistance.
One afternoon on day 2 of 1 to 1 care, my staff were joking about Mr. H’s caregiver. She said she sees his wife in the room, sitting on the chair in his study. The staff burst into laughter. For all of the past visits I made to his room for routine nursing checks, to see that he was adjusting to the building well, and even the few times our chats turned into serious and heartfelt talks about the state of the world, I had not noticed any pictures of his wife except for the artwork she created of past hikes and vistas they had enjoyed while traveling the world together. I decided to squeeze in a visit to get his vital signs and see how he and his caregiver were treating one another. Naïvely, I thought the ghostly experience of the caregiver could be chalked up to personal spiritual beliefs based on cultural background. She did not come across as mentally unstable, and I trusted the company that vetted her application.
“I sent her to lunch. She is pleasant, quiet. It’s strange to have supervision when I’ve lived six years on my own all alone here.“ I asked if he was referring to the loss of his wife. He nodded.
“Mr. H, I’ve seen her lovely artwork, but I haven’t seen any photos of her!“ He pointed me to the 8x6 photo of the vibrant 80 something-year old woman sitting atop his file cabinet.
It was the same woman I spoke to about vaccines just months prior.
“Mr. H. You said she passed away when?“ He confirmed her final year earthside of 2015, before succumbing to terminal cancer.
I could not believe the math I was doing in my head at that moment. But that was months ago. I didn’t even work at this building six years ago!
I kept my awe and confusion in silence. Then I told him how proud she must be of him. Finished up my visit and headed toward his apartment door.
Before stepping out, I asked him to remind me if he was up to date with his vaccine. “Oh yes. Well I didn’t receive it from your clinic. I got the series about a month later from my general doctor. Changed my mind about it last minute. I have a book to write and I can’t let a nasty bug stop me from putting it into print.”
I think Mr. H has a guardian angel, and I guess I had the privilege of knowing she is still looking out for him.

Stats: 4.0 GPA, 516 MCAT
ORM; NJ resident
ECs:
~1,500 clinical hours through EMT, volunteer and paid + good LOR
~400 clinical hours through volunteering at nursing home; award for involvement
~1,500 non-clinical service hours as COO and co-founder of a nonprofit focused on addressing disparities in community health education, org has grown a lot and made a nice impact
~1,500 leadership hours: president of two student organizations (one that I co-founded; both are tied into my clinical experiences), RA, TI, intern for nonprofit related to clinical volunteering, etc.
~2,500 hours research + 1 4th author publication + thesis project with 2 awards + poster presentations + great PI LOR
~75 hours of shadowing
Taking 1 gap year to do part-time research and part-time patient care tech
My MCAT is definitely low for the top medical schools as an ORM, but again thinking about shooting my shot to more holistic ones. I also tried to do a decent amount of research on mission fit and in-state bias when narrowing down the list. Let me know of any other mid/low tier schools I should add... I would be comfortable applying to up to 45 schools. I feel super shaky with this list lol. Thank you!!

1. Johns Hopkins University
2. Columbia University Vagelos College of Physicians and Surgeons
3. Duke University School of Medicine
4. Stanford University School of Medicine
5. University of California, San Francisco, School of Medicine
6. Yale School of Medicine
7. University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine
8. University of Michigan Medical School
9. Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai
10. University of Chicago Division of the Biological Sciences The Pritzker School of Medicine
11. University of California, Los Angeles David Geffen School of Medicine
12. Emory University School of Medicine
13. Ohio State University College of Medicine
14. Case Western Reserve University
15. Boston University Aram V. Chobanian & Edward Avedisian School of Medicine
16. University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry
17. University of Cincinnati College of Medicine
18. Warren Alpert Medical School of Brown University
19. Albert Einstein College of Medicine
20. University of Miami Leonard M. Miller School of Medicine
21. Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth
22. USF Health Morsani College of Medicine
23. Georgetown University School of Medicine
24. Tufts University School of Medicine
25. University of Connecticut School of Medicine
26. Renaissance School of Medicine at Stony Brook University
27. Sidney Kimmel Medical College at Thomas Jefferson University
28. Virginia Commonwealth University School of Medicine
29. Rutgers, Robert Wood Johnson Medical School
30. Rutgers New Jersey Medical School
31. Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University
32. Jacobs School of Medicine and Biomedical Sciences at the University at Buffalo
33. Hackensack Meridian School of Medicine
34. Saint Louis University School of Medicine
35. Drexel University College of Medicine
36. The University of Toledo College of Medicine and Life Sciences
37. Cooper Medical School of Rowan University
38. Frank H. Netter MD School of Medicine at Quinnipiac University
39. Kaiser Permanente Bernard J. Tyson School of Medicine

Read Chapter 25 Here: https://www.reddit.com/saw/comments/13kih9q/legacy_from_the_book_of_saw_chapter_25_the_final/
____________________________________________________
*** CHAPTER 26 **\*
Traveling to the warehouse, Logan felt relieved knowing Melissa was in good hands, but his momentary comfort was quickly replaced with apprehension when he arrived at Hoffman’s lair. Checking his surroundings, Logan was unfamiliar with this place, despite living here for over a decade. Stopping the car, he tilted the visor down and looked at the photo of his wife.
Through the security camera positioned outside, Hoffman watched Logan enter the parking lot and smiled. He grabbed the bottle of chloroform that sat next to the aqua green box and a cloth from the table, then switched on the furnace. Walking towards the entrance, he turned off all the lights except the one shining on Elanor, who sat unconscious beneath the aluminum dispenser.
Walking towards the entrance, Logan removed a tactical knife from his pocket and held it surreptitiously. Finding the door unlocked, he breached the doorway and stepped into the building, his chest full of anxiety. Logan shuffled through the inoperable machines, boxes, and various tools until he found Elanor under the strobe light. On the floor, he noticed the chrome pool of aluminum that had dried and discovered the dispenser above her. Quickly pulling the chair out of reach, he removed the gag from her mouth just as the liquid started to pour.
Slipping out of the darkness, Hoffman watched as Logan attempted to cut through the ropes that bound Elanor, and while he was distracted, Hoffman slammed the grip of his gun into the back of Logan’s head with traumatic force. Falling to the floor, rattled and disoriented, Hoffman used this moment to render him unconscious with a considerable dose of chloroform.
***
Seth’s body is brought to the triage center, where the on-call doctors get to work. They extract the bullet from his neck and clean the wound. Then, fill several vials with his coagulating blood and immediately begin several tests. It doesn’t take long for them to find something unusual in his blood. The pathologist examines the results and calls the precinct.
Waiting to hear from Agent Kullen, Lincoln left a message for Autumn and contacted the patrol unit, which was watching over her. They spoke briefly and assured him she would be brought to the station as soon as possible.
With her safety guaranteed, he reached out to the crew sent to Gavin Beck’s residence. They informed him that an officer was found in the garage with his arms, legs, and mouth wrapped in duct tape, but he was still alive, suffering from a major contusion on his head. He was currently being transported to the hospital for evaluation.
Fixing his posture, Lincoln loosened the cilice, providing a moment of comfort, and sank into his chair. Through the window, he caught another glimpse of the remaining survivors. Obstructing his view and thoughts, Marlow entered his office.
“Linc,” he says, “I’ve been in touch with Agent Webb. She’s in recovery and would like updates on the case. Additionally, I’ve been in contact with Dr. Steward’s wife and son. They’re both okay. Presumably an empty threat. The same for Renee’s family.”
Lincoln squints his eyes, contemplating, and suggests, “They didn’t fit the code.”
Marlow shrugs and is about to speak when a call comes through, “Detective,” the pathologist says, “Please come to the triage center at once. There’s something you should see.”
Taking his jacket from the chair, they leave the room hastily and head next door, cutting a path through the other corpses, beelining for Seth’s cadaver. The site of the body hits Lincoln in the gut. They shared a long history, and this wasn’t how he imagined their friendship would end. Saddened by the loss, Lincoln backed away and placed his hands in his pockets.
Inside, he found the last canister of Nitrous Oxide, which he had forgotten about. Already inserted into the cracker, it was taunting him. With the pain of losing another friend, Lincoln’s urge to use was returning, and he felt he would never escape its grasp. Checking for an exit, Lincoln was about to give in to his compulsion when he caught sight of the pathologist using a centrifuge.
Detailing her findings into a computer, she greets Lincoln, “Thank you for coming.”
“What did you find?”
Moving around the device, she grabs a portfolio and takes a blood-filled vial from the rack. She hands the vial to Lincoln and says, “When we ran the first test, I found Seth’s blood was contaminated with some sort of bacteria.”
Holding up the vial and looking closely, “Agent Kullen said he was sick….” Lincoln explains.
Her expression is one of doubt, “I checked that too, but these cells reacted differently than a common cold. It’s microbial.”
Turning a page in the portfolio, she removes another vial from the rack that is filled with green fluid.
“Do you recognize this?” She asks.
Swapping vials, Lincoln shakes the cylinder and watches the fluid splash against the walls.
The pathologist elaborates, “It was confiscated from Dr. Gordon’s apartment.”
“So?”
“Well, Detective, my theory is that poison not dissimilar to this was injected into Seth’s body. I’m certain we will find an entry point with a little more time.”
Handing the vial back to the pathologist, Lincoln displays concern.
He says, “Have Logan assist you with the autopsy. Find the entry point and get back to me.”
Confusion drapes the pathologist, “Logan isn’t here, Detective. I thought you knew that.”
“Fine, get Elanor on it immediately.”
“I’m sorry, Lincoln, but she’s not here either.”
Marlow looks worried, and Lincoln says, “What are you talking about?”
“The on-call Doctors are here because Logan and Elanor never came in. I assumed they requested a break….”
Lincoln pushes past the physician, and Marlow tries to keep up. “Get a unit to Logan and Elanor’s addresses.” He says, “If you can’t get in touch with anyone, I want an APB out within the hour.”
“Chief Savino?”
“My orders, just do it.”
They enter the precinct, and Lincoln breaks off from Marlow, heading to his office while Marlow requests the attention of the other officers. Perched in the seats, eyes fixed, they await instructions. He explains, “Two of our colleagues are missing, Logan Nelson and Elanor Bonneville. Logan was last seen leaving the precinct between 7 pm and 8 pm last night. We must track them down as soon as possible.”
Listening to Marlow in the distance, Lincoln paces his office, trying to call Autumn. He leaves another message and fidgets with the Nitrous Oxide in his pocket. Needing a distraction, he contacts Agent Kullen.
**\*
Outside the Convention Center, Agent Kullen acquired an identical parking slip to the one they procured from Seth. He stood beside his vehicle, surveying the surroundings, taking mental notes of the area, including the security cameras and the construction site for the museum across the street then headed inside.
At the front desk, he finds two staff members and security personnel. Flashing his badge, he requests to see the surveillance footage taken from the last forty-eight hours. They informed him that a power outage corrupted the data, and the footage was essentially erased. Incensed by the revelation, Kullen shows them a picture of Seth Steward and asks if they’ve seen him on the property. The security guard holds the photo close to his face and recognizes the man. He saw him the night before, smoking in the parking lot, but he never entered the building.
Kullen’s stomach churned, and his hand twitched as he exited the convention center. Retrieving his medication from the car, Kullen consumed two pills and evaluated his surroundings once more. Walking towards the street, he looked up and down the road diligently.
Near the shoulder, across the street, he saw something glistening off the sun. About to head over, a call rang through his cell, “Kullen,” he said, still curious about the object.
“It’s me.”
Hearing the Detective's unsettled tone, Agent Kullen asks, “Lincoln, what’s going on?”
“Elanor and Logan are missing. Marlow is pursuing leads. Where are you?”
Crossing the street, Kullen discovers the reflective object to be a broken padlock. He carries the item towards the gate and says, “I’m near the Convention Center.”
He stops at the entrance and discovers that a new padlock has replaced the broken one. Suspicious, he looks to the Convention Center and then back to the gate.
Overwhelmed by his sudden emotions, Lincoln pushes through a fog of anxiety and asks, “Have you found anything?”
Kullen tilts the new lock in his direction and discovers a keyhole. “Send a team to the museum, now.”
Quickly returning to his vehicle, Kullen starts the ignition and drives towards the parking lot's exit. He waits anxiously for the road to clear before pulling out onto the street. When he reaches the gate, he makes a sharp turn and slams his foot into the accelerator. Crashing through the barrier, he speeds toward the construction site.
Pedestrians outside the Community Center observe the unexpected breach and appear excited and perplexed, with at least one individual phoning 9-1-1.
*** CHAPTER 27 **\*
Sitting at his workstation, watching the news, Hoffman can hear Elanor’s muffled cries for help. In front of her, she could see the limp body of Logan, handcuffed to a metal fixture that Hoffman bolted to the floor below the aluminum faucet. Pleading for him to wake up, she quivered in fear.
Unaffected, Hoffman increased the volume of the television. Showing footage of the National History Museum from a helicopter, it was reported that a new game had been discovered. In the video, Hoffman saw several cop cars and news vans positioned outside the building. They revealed that triggers and tripwires had been placed throughout the museum, preventing safe entry.
Photos of the victims flash on the screen, and Hoffman sees Renee Walsh, a test subject of John Kramer, who he had captured over a decade ago. For her game, John requested an eye for an eye, forcing her to remove the organ with a sharpened spoon. Unbeknownst to Jigsaw, Dr. Gordon provided a numbing agent for Renee that would aid her in the endeavor.
Hoffman’s eyes glazed over, and the memories of previous games rushed to his mind. Staring through the television, he heard a voice.
Hovering over his shoulder was the rotting corpse of Amanda Young, who said, “Hello, Mark….”
“You’re dead,” he replied calmly.
Watching the news, Amanda folded her pale arms and said, “I know it’s hard to concentrate.”
Having been haunted by these hallucinations since he escaped the bathroom, Hoffman felt exhausted and tortured, “Why?” He said, his voice drained of emotion. “Why are you still here?”
Amanda stared out the window while Hoffman watched the blood ooze from her neck, and she said, “By creating a legacy, by living a life worth remembering, you become immortal.”
“When this is over, you’ll be gone….”
Smiling, Amanda responds defiantly, “Somehow, I doubt that.”
Photos of John Kramer are displayed on the television, followed by images of Dr. Gordon.
Seeing the pictures, Hoffman remembered sending letters to various news stations, hospitals, and local law enforcement, implicating Lawrence Gordon as an accomplice. For many years, he had planned his revenge on the Doctor, which started by exposing his true identity. However, with Gordon’s upstanding reputation, the implications were deemed a slanderous rumor, and nothing ever came of it.
Now with Gordon gone, only one obstacle remained; there was only one accomplice left; Logan Nelson.
*** CHAPTER 28 **\*
The sun is chased out of the sky by a flurry of dark clouds, creating a reddish-black horizon. An aft beautiful sight, if not for the crowd that has formed outside the precinct. Families of the deceased Jigsaw victims have led a throng of supporters to the parking lot, where they demand an end to Jigsaw’s legacy and the police department that has allowed this to go on for so long.
Among the swarm of bodies are the ex-husband and children of Sarah Harper.
Inside, Chief Savino preps a SWAT team on the situation at the museum, reminding them to be wary of traps, and displays a picture of Hoffman on the television for each of them to memorize. He insists that no one enter the museum until all the traps have been disarmed.
After the speech, Lincoln is informed that Autumn has arrived at her house and is collecting her belongings. The officer estimates that they will reach the precinct within the hour. With one problem solved, Lincoln allows himself a moment of comfort. When he is about to leave, Marlow approaches with more good news.
“We just spoke to Cameron, Logan’s Mother-in-Law,” He says, “She has Melissa, they’re fine, and Logan left around 7 am this morning.”
“Did she say where he was going?”
“He said he was going to work but to contact you if there’s trouble. Chances are he’s inside the museum with the others.”
Lincoln considers the possibilities and says, “Let’s retrace his steps. He took his vehicle, right? I don’t care how long it takes, pull CCTV, check gas stations in the vicinity, schools, everything. If we can triangulate his phone, do it. Find him."
“I will, sir,” Marlow says, without moving, "What about him?"
Lincoln glances at Daniel inside the Infirmary, “He doesn't leave my sight," he says.
“Sir?"
“What other options do we have? I'm not losing anyone else."
Forgoing his apprehension, Marlow said, “It’s your call, Lincoln.”
Within twenty minutes, Lincoln arrives at the museum with a SWAT team. Staring at the building, he feels a sudden surge of anxiety, dread, and a strange sense of relief, knowing this will all be over soon.
“Are you okay?” a voice asks.
His eyes move to the rearview mirror, and Lincoln can see Daniel Matthews in the back seat. Still awaiting a response from Autumn, Lincoln checks his cellphone and re-reads his message to Lynn.
“I'm ready for this to be over,” he said, tightening the cilice around his waist.
Looking through the window at the commotion outside the museum, Daniel responds, “This isn't your fault, Detective.”
Reminded of his conversation with Seth Steward, Lincoln ignores the words, "Let's go."
Both men exit the vehicle, and Marlow joins them.
"Kullen is sending in a bomb squad," Marlow said, "We've set up an observation terminal towards the south entrance. I'll move the witness there."
As the men separate, Daniel, notices the news crews positioned themselves just outside the parking lot. He stares at them approvingly.
Lincoln waded through his grief and reached Agent Marlow, who was relaying a message via radio.
“Get it done,” Kullen said.
Standing with the Agent, Lincoln asks for a breakdown of the situation.
“Come with me.”
Lincoln follows Kullen towards a police car, and the Agent removes the museum floor plans from his pocket. He lays the map on the car's hood and specifies the trap locations.
“The entrances are blocked off,” he said, “There’s no way through. Now, I’ve got a team working to deactivate the traps, but it’s going to take some time.”
“Have you had any communication with the survivors?”
Drawing a line on the map with his finger, Kullen says, “Not yet, but I’ve spoken with the construction crew, and they’re building an expansion right over here.”
***
TO BE CONTINUED

Hi! Here is this week's list - I'll be at Bug Jar on Thursday for Shy Tooth, BB + Club Drugs, and other highlights include Kinloch Nelson, Kind of Kind, Live Emo Night, + more.
Also Pizza Wizard will have thin pies this week.
Enjoy the week! Follow us on TheSoundRoc on IG.
​
Tuesday 5/30
Neutral Snap / Goalkeeper / Rematch / Patient Basement (rock/pop punk) - Bug Jar, 9P ($12, 18+)
Wednesday, 5/31
Legendary Shack Shakers / Dex Romweber / Viva Le Vox (roots/rock) - Bug Jar, 9P ($20, 18+)
Crossmolina (Irish folk fusion) - The Little Theater Café, 6:30P (FREE, all ages)
Bret Levick / Sally Louise / Jackson Cavalier (songwriter showcase) - Abilene, 6P ($5)
The Hochstein School Rock Bands (rock) - Lovin’ Cup, 8P (FREE, all ages)
The Mighty High and Dry (Rock/soul) - Record Archive, 6P (FREE, 21+)
Thursday, 6/1
Shy Tooth / Bad Bloom / ClubDrugs (shoegaze/indie rock) - Bug Jar, 9P ($10, 18+)
Now Playing: Born This Way - Lady Gaga Dance Party (DJ) - Photo City, 9P ($7/$5, 18+)
Maria Gillard Trio (folk/jazz/swing) - The Little Theater Café, 6:30P (FREE, all ages)
Nikki Hill (soul/roots/rock) - Abilene, 7:30P ($35/$40)
RAWL / Unguent / Seek the Black Goat / Conduit (noise/experimental) - Rosen Krown, 9P ($10, 21+)
Friday, 6/2
Subsoil/ Moses Rockwell / Keets (hip hop / DJ) - Photo City, 8P ($10+, 18+)
Foot & Mouth Disease / Kaiser Solzie / The Grinders / Electric Duchess - Bug Jar, 8P ($10, 18+)
De-Auth / The Ill - Rosen Krown, 8:30P ($5, 21+)
Kinloch Nelson (solo guitar) - The Little Theater Café, 6:30P (FREE, all ages)
Nikki Hill (soul/roots/rock) - Abilene, 7:30P ($35/$40)
Aaron DeRuyter (singesongwriter) - Lovin’ Cup, 6P (FREE, all ages)
David Jonathan & Inner City Bedlam (jazz-inspired/rock) - LUX Lounge, 10P ($5, 21+)
Saturday, 6/3
Make It Stop / Trophy Husband / Kind of Kind (math rock/ indie) - Bug Jar, 9P ($10, 18+)
Live Emo Night with Cut Me Up Genny (emo/pop punk) - Photo City, 8P ($10+, 18+)
Silent Disco (DJ) - Radio Social, 8P ($10/$15, 18+)
Laura Dubin Trio (jazz) - The Little Theater Café, 6:30P (FREE, all ages)
ROC Star Academy Showcase ft. Guilty Pleasure (rock/misc) - Abilene, 7:30P ($10)
Chris Trapper (classic pop) - Lovin’ Cup, 7P ($20/$30, all ages)
Nightmares / Unwill / Divine Fallacy / Feed the Addiction / Allegiant / Perelandra (metal) - Montage, 6P ($12, all ages)
Culture Clash (DJ’s w/ reggae/hip hop/R&B) - Water Street Music Hall, 8P ($10+, 21+)
Noah Kahan / Richy Mitch & The Coalminers (folk/rock) - Beak and Skiff, 7P ($32+, all ages)
The Devil’s Pension / Thurlow / Blue Envy / Shades of Gray / Timothy Mitchum / Briand Lindsay / Infrared Radiation Orchestra / Moving Mountains - House of Guitars, 1-8P (FREE, all ages)
Chris Wilson & Brian Ayers: A Tribute to Simon & Garfunkel - JCC CenterStage, 7P ($34+, all ages)
Sunday, 6/4
Joe & Tony’s Sunday Sauce (house music/DJ) - Pizza Wizard, 3-8P (FREE, all ages)
Classical Guitar Night - The Little Theater Café, 6:30P (FREE, all ages)
Drag Me to Dinner (drag show) - Lovin’ Cup, 6P ($30, 18+)

First Chapter
Chapter Thirteen
Corporal McCoy had figured out the best reason for getting in good with an udhyr. They had four arms, therefore the hugs were twice as nice. They now lay in her room, with him lying on her bed and her lying on top of him, with her ensconced in the aforementioned hug-squared. She’d been able to get ahold of her Switch, and at the moment was in the midst of some happy early-morning gaming. Takh’s head rested upon hers with a gentle and welcome pressure while he watched her play. By now she was so used to him that even the little random clicks of his mandibles didn’t cause her any fear.
She was still trying to figure out if she and the alien XO were an ‘item’ or not. Zawahir had, with his usual enthusiasm, explained to her that both the udhyr and knuall-toua were pretty much like humans, with equal numbers of both males and females who reproduced sexually. He hadn’t gone into details on how exactly Tab A fit into Slot B, but the overall idea was clear. The auhn were a little more complicated; the ratio of females to males was more like seven or eight to one, plus there was the added wrinkle that the males were non-sapient and about as smart as the average pet dog. That had resulted in a very matriarchal society, of course, one based around clans of females protecting their stable of fertile males with appropriately auhn-like ferocity. The spider-like xyrax were…well, both. Completely hermaphroditic; there was quite a complicated social dance before they reproduced as to who was going to bear the resulting egg. McCoy was sure that, however it worked out, it would look adorable.
“So this Kirby can eat anything?” asked Takh, breaking into her ruminations.
McCoy tapped at her controls on autopilot, hoping that the damned thumbsticks wouldn’t break. Again. “Yep. Fun fact, waaay back in the 80s, Nintendo got sued by Universal Studios, who claimed that Donkey Kong was a ripoff of King Kong. John Kirby was the attorney who successfully defended them in court, and in gratitude they named this character Kirby.” She continued her tapping. “I think they gave him a sailboat as well.”
“Mmm, I must admit a sailboat sounds nice right about now. This place is very nice, but it’s a bit too cold.”
She wriggled against him. “You said it. You and me, off the coast near Nice? Floating in the warm azure waters of the Mediterranean? I can wear a nice little bikini I’ve got saved up for just such an occasion.”
“Oh! Uh, well, yes. That does indeed sound quite nice…”
She grinned. Takh was a dork, but a giant lovable dork and it was always great to get a reaction like this out of him. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere there. As far as she knew, the udhyr reproduced like frogs. Maybe she should discreetly quiz Zawahir on the whole Tab-A into Slot-B thing, just to make sure she wasn’t setting herself up for disappointment.
Of course, she’d just managed to get to the final boss of this particular level when the siren howl of the alarm went off. Haley McCoy blinked as she went from supine four-armed cuddling to standing in an instant, placed upon the floor by Takh’s upper arms.
“The unholy hell?” she muttered, but she was already in motion as she sprinted towards her gear, laid out so as to ensure maximum efficiency in getting it all put on. “Takh?” she called out as she started strapping her armored vest on.
“Yes? What do I do?”
“Simple. Anyone comes through that door who you don’t recognize, kill ‘em.”
“I…I don’t know, I’m still understanding how different humans look from each other, I don’t want to make a mistake.”
“You’ll know,” she said with finality as she picked up her carbine and racked the slide. “Okay. Follow me…”
The door to her room smashed in as a figure clad in black armor came through screaming “Earth belongs to HUMANS!...”
That was all he got out before Takh grabbed the man’s head and simply hurled the offending figure over McCoy and into the far wall. The window set in that wall shattered with the resulting impact, making the corporal duck.
“Fuck me, Takh.” She looked at the broken figure of the oh-so-very dead intruder, then back up to the worried-looking XO. “I mean, not literally. Okay, well you can if you want to, and I for sure would like you to…you know what? Let’s put that whole discussion off to the side for now until we can sit down and have ourselves a nice long chat, okay?”
“That sounds like a very wise strategy, Haley. What do you need from me?”
She finished putting on her headset and helmet. “Right now? You need to stick right behind me while I get you to the bunker.”
“You want me behind you?” Takh’s mandibles quirked in a grin. “That sounds like a very nice place to be.”
“Stop distracting me, you giant dork.” McCoy moved towards the door with a grim set to her shoulders, ignoring the lovely fact that her alien maybe-boyfriend was now checking out her ass. She swept the outside hallway….nothing visible. Then she heard some commotion from off towards the kitchen area.
__________
Martinez surged to his feet upon hearing the alarm, his half-eaten horizontal-cut pimento sandwich now forgotten. “What the fuck…?”
Matt was on his feet as well, with a strange look in his eyes that the corporal had never seen before. “You two. Corner. Now.” He pointed at the corner farthest from the two entrances to the kitchen.
The corporal was on the smaller side, even amongst his fellow humans, but something in the Marine’s tone made him turn and tackle the huge alien. Kexal, to his credit, somehow knew that Something Was Up and accepted the tackle, otherwise there was no way in hell that Martinez could have moved the giant creature.
Just as he did so, he caught a glimpse of a dark form, clad in full armor, holding a rifle, gliding around one of the entrances to the kitchen. In a panic, he fumbled for the pistol at his hip.
Martinez prized himself on his reflexes. But still, he had time for one blink of astonishment as Toke all but teleported himself across the ten feet of intervening space, pushing the intruder’s rifle up towards the ceiling and out of battery as his own arm flashed in a wicked arc. The corporal caught the merest glint of a small but cruelly-curved knife, like a predator’s claw, in the Marine’s fist.
There followed quite the epic spray of blood from underneath the attacker’s armpit, followed up by a few more cruel swipes which made sure that the tendons in that shoulder were destroyed and useless. Toke pulled the rifle away from the now-dangling limb.
Somehow, the black-armored attacker managed to speak in spite of what must be massive pain. “Earth will NEVER submit to…”
Toke’s voice was as hard as granite. “Tell your shit to someone who cares.”
Two more vicious swipes across the man’s throat resulted in a cascade of crimson down his black-armored front, and the would-be assassin toppled to the wooden floor.
“Martinez.” Toke’s robotic voice shocked him back into awareness.
“Y…yeah?”
“Got a pistol?”
“Of course.” He checked to make sure that he had it in his hand. Huh, that was strange. He didn’t remember drawing it, but there it was.
“Good.” The lean man tossed the purloined rifle towards Martinez, who caught it automatically in his off-hand. “Take this. Check this dead motherfucker for extra mags, and take ‘em. You’re on Kexal, understand? Get him safe to the bunker. Anyone you don’t know personally comes at you, you shoot ‘em.” His black, mechanical gaze shifted towards the alien. “Kexal? If Martinez goes down and someone attacks you, you have my permission to yank their arms off.”
The giant planetologist stared in horror at the bleeding and probably-dead sapient before him, then shook himself. “Of course. Yes. I’ll protect myself.”
“No need,” said Martinez as he looked back at his newly-christened charge. He racked the action on his just-acquired rifle, which looked to be a standard AR-platform civilian carbine. The corporal wished for something full-auto, but this was at least better than a pistol in terms of range and punch. “I’ll get you to safety, sir.”
He turned back to ask Matt just what the fuck was going on…but he only saw empty air.
__________
Cécile Savoie was not having a good day. She’d accepted the position of overall chief of security at Camp David with delight…at first. Dealing with the day-to-day of protecting one of the most targeted people on the planet, that she could deal with no problem. Because it was one person. It was an unspoken agreement between all of the agents that SAILOR was the priority. Even the First Husband could be sacrificed if need be.
But then she’d had a bunch of damn aliens dropped in her lap, along with an equally weird group of special-forces types. The latter were what really ground her gears; the aliens were genuinely nice and apologetic about being such a bother, but the human soldiers were the types who would crash on your couch, drink all your beer, and then steal your sweetheart when you weren’t looking.
She crouched behind a little berm to the west of Camp David, the other members of her patrol stretched out alongside her in a roughly north-to-south line.
“Moseby! Report!” she yelled.
She heard a few thumps, then a few cracks in her earpiece which were followed up by echoing reports from the building behind her. Thankfully she heard her agent’s voice in her earpiece. “Shit! Wow, um, you’re really good with that knife…”
She then heard a muffled phrase that sounded a bit like ‘give it to me, son’, and the next voice in her ear was one she was unfamiliar with.
“This is Captain Matthew Tocco, USMC, whom am I speaking with?” The voice sounded as if generated by an AI.
“I’m Agent Savoie,” she responded. “I’m in charge of the Camp David security detail, who are you?”
“I just told you who I am, Agent Savoie. And I just saved the life of one of your agents. Now. Let’s cut through any sort of jurisdictional bullshit. We have at least two confirmed active hostiles in the complex, two more are confirmed down. We’re sweeping the compound to make sure there are no others, plus making sure that our esteemed guests are safe inside the bunker. Where are you located? We need to coordinate our defenses.”
The information made her see literal red. The attackers had made it into the compound? How? There must be some angle, some safe passage made by somebody. She was going to find out who had made that safe passage, and those people would burn. Oh yes, they were all going to burn…
“West of the complex,” she snapped. “We’ve set up a perimeter along the ridge there.”
“Got it, Agent Savoie. Oh, and please don’t shoot me when I show up.”
She ran through various scenarios for the next few minutes, trying to figure out who on the team had betrayed them. And there must have been such a betrayal in order to get armed hostiles into the actual buildings. Her further musing upon vengeance was cut short as a tall, lean man seemed to all but materialize next to her. He held a small, curved blade in a reverse grip in his right hand; that blade dripped red blood. She almost pointed her gun at him, then relaxed. “Captain Tocco, I presume?”
“Call me Toke.” The guy sounded like he was out for a day on the beach.
“Who the hell are you…wait, you’re with the group in there, right?”
Matt nodded. “Yep. The rest of us are in there bundling up our guests and making sure they’re all safe and sound. Actually, by now Corporal McCoy should be…”
Agent Savoie flinched again as a small but very stacked woman seemed to suddenly appear like condensing smoke at her other side, out of the brush. “Speak of the Devil, and she shall appear.”
The tall man grinned at her. “You are pretty damn good, corporal.”
“Hell that means a lot coming from you, Toke. By the way, that’s a nice kerambit. Anyways, everybody on Team Alien is tucked in and unharmed. I got Takh in there fine. Martinez even tagged a couple more bad guys while he was escorting Grakosh to the bunker. Fair warning to everybody listening on this channel, he’s gonna be aaaall sorts of smug about that and it’s gonna turn into a story of taking out four dudes before this week is out. But, right now, it looks like only four of the OPFOR made into the complex…however they did that…so the rest must be out there.” She pointed towards the leafless woods beyond the little rise.
“Any word from Shaw?” asked Toke.
Savoie narrowed her eyes. “Something bad happened in DC. Sounds like an artillery or mortar attack.”
“Shit.” McCoy looked troubled. “This is serious business, then. State player?”
“Maybe,” said Toke. “But it could be some private group with some proper funding behind ‘em. Agent Savoie, do you have any word of a helicopter or plane going down nearby?”
“A Chinook,” she replied, “Went down about thirty minutes ago thataways.” She motioned to the west, out into the wintry forest. “Then we had one of our patrols out in that direction go silent. That’s what triggered the alarm.”
Matt grunted. “Yeah, that’s how I’d do it. Make it look like a crash and infiltrate that way. Right.” He touched his ear to make sure his earpiece was seated. “You just keep this channel open, right?”
“Where are you going?” asked McCoy.
“Out there. You need eyes on assholes, and I’m gonna give that to you.”
McCoy tossed him her carbine. “At least have a gun on you, dude.”
He caught it with his off-hand, since his main hand still held the dripping-red kerambit. He grinned at her. “All right. You got a pistol?”
“Of course.” She pulled it out and racked the slide.
He tossed the rifle back to her. “Give me that instead. We’re gonna need to concentrate some proper firepower here. This might be a proper light-infantry invasion in progress. We need to organize ourselves into a skirmish line running along this ridge, south-southwest to north-northeast. Get whoever you can on your team in there out here to bolster our firepower, understand? Dig in.”
“Got it.” The little corporal’s eyes blazed with purpose as she handed her pistol to Matt. “Now go get you some.”
“Believe me, I will.”
Savoie blinked in astonishment as the tall man vanished again.
“Yeah, he kinda does that,” said McCoy. “Dude could give sneaking-around lessons to fucking Batman.” She pulled a map out of one of the pockets on her cargo pants. “Now, Agent Savoie, how many people do we have available? Let’s get ourselves properly set up.”
__________
Wade stepped carefully over a fallen branch, his boots making almost no noise at they met the soft mulch covering the forest floor. From the curt statements in his headset, it sounded like the four heroes who’d been infiltrated into the devil’s nest had been cut down. There was no word yet if any of the alien menace had been eliminated. That was a shame, but hopefully it drew attention away from his own unit. He and his comrades made up the secondary and much more armored thrust, one which not even the vaunted Secret Service could counter. The latter were armored, yes, but only armored against pistols and they only wielded pistols themselves. He and his team had rifles, level-four body armor, helmets, and most importantly proper communications.
A voice crackled in his ear. “Hold position. The security detail is forming into a defensive line. It looks like they know we’re here.”
“Set timer?” Wade whispered into his headset. His team had a set time to accomplish their mission, before the entirety of the United States military-industrial complex landed upon their heads like the proverbial Wrath Of God.
“Yes, set timer. Twenty minutes.”
There was a soft chorus of “Twenty minutes, aye,” in Wade’s ear as he tapped his own smart-watch to start the timer. “Twenty minutes, aye,” he murmured. As he made to step over another downed branch, he paused.
Something was off. He couldn’t say why, but the air itself seemed a little more still than it should be. He turned to his left and saw a blur heading for him…he tried to raise his rifle, but it was too late…
__________
Cécile Savoie’s head snapped up as she heard a few cracks from the treeline which could only be the sound of firearms. “Anyone see anything?” she whispered into her earpiece.
There followed a myriad of “No, ma’ams” in her ear. “Keep a sharp eye,” she murmured. “Don’t fire on anyone not in black. We do have a friendly out there, he’s supposed to be giving us intel…”
Matt’s voice sounded in her ear. “Indeed. Bagged one of ‘em, on the outer edge of the advancing force. Looks like civvie gear, carbine is only semi-auto. This is a well-funded civilian effort, not a state actor.”
She checked her watch. “Got it. Fifteen minutes until we get backup in place, what do you need from us?”
“Hmm, that explains the ‘twenty minutes’ thing. Right, they know they’re on a timetable. You all need to be, and I hate to put it this way, the meat shield. It looks like they’re going for a solid push towards you, no stealth. Fourteen hostiles all told, and if this guy’s gear is any indication they’re all up-armored. Class Four. Center of mass is no good, go for head or limbs.”
Savoie’s mouth was now dry. “Understood.”
“Don’t worry, Agent. I’ll be behind them, and I’ll do what I can to sow some dissention in the ranks.”
__________
“Wade, report!” hissed Horace into his microphone.
No reply.
He took in a breath to issue another demand when a voice sounded in his ear. Horace had once gone swimming in the ocean off of Florida, and had by pure chance come across a great white shark. He still remembered the vacant gaze of the giant predator, who was probably idly wondering if Horace would make a good snack for today.
This voice brought up once again that dread; it was the voice of a pure predator. “Who is this?”
“Who the fuck are you?”
“The one who just took down…Wade, was it?”
“Sidney, get eyes on Wade!”
“Will do…” There followed a long, long silence before that shark-like voice spoke again.
“You just got Sidney killed too, asshole. Care to keep going? I got no problem with that. Or do you all want to call this a day? You can do that too, you know.”
“Everybody down!” Horace snapped before going prone himself. That taunting voice still sounded in his ear.
“Okay, now you’re all down and less of a target. What now, genius? You got…hmmm…about twelve more minutes before all of the backup in the world arrives. And they will find you. You know what? You’d better hope they find you instead of me. Because I give less than two shits about that whole ‘Geneva Convention’ crap.”
“Maintain radio silence,” said Horace, as he tried to wriggle his way forward.
“Oh, you’re still trying, Mister Leader? How cute. Let me put it this way to you fourteen…sorry, thirteen, assholes. You’re done. Nailed. The best you can hope for is to get some lawyers who want to make a name for themselves. Worst case? You get put in a room with me, and if you have any sense in what passes for your brains you will spill your guts. If I’m honest, I kinda hope you put up a brave front and don’t say anything. It’s been a very long time since I got to cut loose. Gotta keep up that certain set of skills, yanno what I mean?”
“Maintain radio silence,” grated Horace, as he continued to wriggle forward.
Then, all of a sudden, he realized he was looking at boots. A pair of boots, planted in front of him like a goddamn World War Two commando movie. He glanced upwards, hoping against hope that it would turn out to be a gag like that one comedy where it was just boots…
No.
It wasn’t just boots.
Horace looked up into a man with the eyes of a shark, as well as the quite threatening muzzle of a pistol.
“Hey there, my Little Buddy-O,” said Matt. “Whatcha doin out here?”
__________
Milton came to with a gasp. “Shaw…”
A gentle hand laid upon his shoulder. “Shh, dear. He’s fine, everyone’s fine.”
He gazed up at the white-tiled ceiling above him. “But…” He turned to look into the face of the one person he loved above all else…well, her and Johnny. “He’s okay?”
“He’ll live. Just like you. You big doofus.” Teresa leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “I saw the footage. You threw yourself at all of those senior citizens, which might just count as assault with a deadly weapon. Then you went and managed to get all the way across the stage towards Sadaf. You really don’t know when to give up, do you?”
“Guess I don’t”, he chuckled, then glanced down at his arm. His former arm. “Whoof. That medic was really quick with the tourniquet, I’ll give him that.”
“With you and with Sergeant Shaw,” said Teresa. By now she was pretty much clambered on top of him, tucking his big head into the nape of her neck; it was his favorite place to be. He inhaled her scent with relish, before suddenly realizing someone was missing.
“Johnny?” he asked.
“Oh, right,” she said, before making an imperious snap of her fingers to someone out of his line of sight…right before a little ball of energy burst its way into his room.
“DADDY!” yelled the little firebrand, before smacking into his side. Milton hugged them both to himself, realizing that, no matter what happened next, he was right now in the best place possible.
“Keep it all down to a dull roar, okay?” said a voice off to his left. A very recognizable voice.
He picked his head up to stare in that direction. “Shaw?”
The sergeant gave him a casual wave from his own hospital bed. “Hey, slick. Good ta see ya up and about.”
Milton grinned. “You too, you old fart.”
“Aw hell, I ain’t that old. So. Just out of curiosity. Did that torniquet on your arm hurt like hell?”
The agent cuddled his son closer. “You better believe it.”
“Okay, got it. Just for reference, if you get one on your leg it also hurts like a motherfu…uh, hurts like crazy.”
Milton winked at Shaw. “Don’t worry, my son has heard worse. Why are you here?”
“They put you both in one room,” said Teresa. “Something about it being easier to guard. There was an assault on Camp David too, from what I’ve heard.”
“What?” Milton tried to pry himself up off of the bed before getting a mutual shove-down from his wife and son.
“Relax, my man,” said Shaw. “Toke was there. He and my peeps took care of it.” The sergeant looked at the acoustic tiles above him. “Gonna have to promote McCoy and Martinez. They both really stepped up to the plate.”
__________
President Correa rubbed at her temple. “This ‘Toke’ is a menace.” She was seated behind the famed ‘Resolute’ desk while still trying to show the appropriate deference to the barrel-chested man in front of her, clad in a crisp dark-blue dress uniform.
“Let’s be fair, ma’am,” replied General De Vries, “He helped this situation become less complicated, not more. None of our alien…refugees? I suppose that’s a good a term as anything. None of them got killed, hell none of them even got injured. We collected the thirteen of those remaining while trying to assault Camp David. Overall we have ten dead, including the four who somehow made it into the complex and the Secret Service patrol. The attackers had top-of-the-line gear, civilian but first-rate.”
She slammed her fists into the desk-top, making a nearby mug filled with coffee jump. “I fucking VACATION there, General! Me and my family, understand?”
“I know, ma’am. Do you want me to do this questioning…properly?”
She somehow picked up what he was putting down. “No. You have my permission to go off the chain.”
“Then consider me and Toke off the chain, ma’am.”
“Wait…you’re going to use him?”
“He has had experience in similar matters, ma’am. If you prefer, I don’t need to use him.”
She shook her head. “No. We need intel, and fast, on how the fuck this happened. Plus not to mention we somehow had an artillery attack in the midst of goddam DC.”
“I cannot speak for the FBI,” said De Vries with deceptive calm. “But believe me, we will find out how this all happened. And it will never happen again, of that you have my solemn word.”
The president slumped in her seat. “What about those injured in the DC attack?”
“It was a precision single artillery strike, ma’am. Probably GPS or maybe laser-guided, we’re still trying to figure out which. If Sergeant Shaw hadn’t intervened as he did, Captain Sadaf would be nothing but pulverized meat right now.”
She looked up at him with a cynical quirk to her eyebrow. “Did his saving her get caught on film?”
“Oh hell yes. Footage from several phones, it’s all gone viral.”
“Good, make sure it continues to go viral. How is Shaw? And Agent…um…sorry, my brain is going twelve different ways…sorry, Agent Milton Vila, right?”
“You are right, ma’am. Both are still in the hospital, under guard of course, but both are stable. Milton lost an arm, and Shaw lost one of his legs below the knee.”
“Fuck.” It was one of the rare times that De Vries had heard the president swear. “Both can be helped with prosthetics, right?”
“Not my area of expertise, ma’am, but yes. They’ll both live, and we’ll make sure they have the very best technology available.”
President Correa suddenly grinned with an expression that the general somehow knew was going to lead to Complications in his near future.
“You mean the best human technology, don’t you?” she asked, with deceptive calm.
“Well…yes, of course. I mean, Zawahir Ibn Harith is still trying to make sense of how the aliens heal themselves. It’s true regeneration, if I understand it right. Damage to the central nervous system is still kind of hard for them to deal with, but otherwise they can pretty much heal anything.”
The president examined her fingernails. “So…growing back a limb or two should be the proverbial walk in the park, yes?”
“Um…” The general’s eyes widened. He now realized why this unassuming lady had won two terms to the highest executive office in his particular country. “Oh, yes! Of course!”
“The plans for repair efforts on the Rithro have costs which are already pretty much alongside the Manhattan Project,” said President Correa. “Why don’t you appoint Zawahir as the lead of this particular effort? We’ll call it Manhattan-Light.” She fixed General De Vries with her eyes. “Imagine it. Two people, grievously wounded in the line of duty while protecting one of our alien refugees, an effort which was caught on multiple cameras…imagine them then walking out onto a stage with intact limbs.”
“It will make quite the photo op, ma’am.”
“Indeed. I’m glad we understand each other, General.”

Foundations of Humanity 26 (First Impressions) - an NoP fanfic
Thank you u/SpacePaladin15 for establishing the Nature of Predators Universe, and for allowing Fanfics to flourish!
Thank you again, u/Braquen, u/Acceptable_Egg5560, u/Liberty-Prime76 and u/BiasMushroom721 for proofreading! This is my side of the Nature of a Giant crossover!
Huu boi this got to 34k characters, so had to split the chapter. Hooray making a backlog!
First - Previous - [Next]
Memory transcription subject: Valek, Venlil tourist
Date [standardized human time]: Sept 11th, 2136. Middle of 3rd Claw
I thought of happy memories of the last time my class and I had visited, “I couldn’t figure it out last time, but I was just a pup with a bunch of other pups back then. I know it has something to do with reattaching lines in the right configuration, but every time I got close--”
A black mass. A yawning, toothy pit! Hungry barks! “Teeth! TEETH! PREDATOR!”
I could see the beast’s gaping maw crawling forward to swallow me whole! I couldn’t let it get me! It would eat me! I couldn’t stop my momentum; I just kept getting closer to the inky void and gnashing teeth! I collided with the predator and thrashed and flailed against its wild mane, before my back legs found purchase and I launched myself back from whence I came.
Maeve’s voice shouted from behind just before her arm wrapped around me and halted my retreat, “What the hell, Valek? There’s no Predators he-EOLY SHIT!”
Finding sanctuary against my mate, I found my voice once more. “Big! Teeth! Call the Exterminators! Help! Teeth!” I thrashed in Maeve’s arm, trying to scratch at my prowling assailant.
A voice echoed from near the threat as another form appeared. “What happened?” A human? Another threat? He’s near the predator! He was looking at us! “Y’all okay?” His head turned toward the beast. “You okay?”
“I’m fine! Mostly surprised!” It imitated a Venlil with its movements, but I knew better! “It’s okay! I’m not here to hurt you!”
It was toying with us! Trying to get us off-guard! “Don’t eat us!” Protect your mate! “She’s dealt with Predators already! You’ll be sorry!”
I suddenly felt Maeve shake me. “That’s enough, Valek; get a hold of yourself.”
Get a hold of myself? Doesn’t she realize the threat? The-
“You forgot to say I should be set on fire, or that I’m a freak of nature.” I heard the beast say, now grabbing the edges of the hallway. “In case you need suggestions for insults.”
My voice faltered as I tried to understand it. The words were there, but my mind just couldn’t accept them. Maeve fell silent above me, but continued to hold me fast.
The other human brought itself beside the giant, “Oh my! ‘Nother human! Howdy there!” He raised his hand to his head, touching two fingers to his forehead, then flicking them in our direction. A gesture of greeting.
My ears snapped to the human as I tried to reconcile the friendly gesture amid my panic. Maeve, however, was undeterred and floated past me, coming closer to the monster. Alvi held my shoulder, and supported us against a nearby rope.
“Wow! You… You’re huge!” She had that same wonder in her voice that she always had when she found something new.
In response, I heard the familiar whistle of a Venlil laugh. It was coming from the… it’s a Venlil? “Yes. It’s a condition.”
Maeve continued her approach. She didn’t look the least bit afraid. Even though her arm remained in a cast; a cast given to her by the last predator she tangled with. But continue, she did. “I didn’t know Venlil could display gigantism! That’s incredible!”
I blinked. Gigantism? The translator was unhelpfully vague, something about making things big. The giant seemed similarly confused, “I’m sorry, my translator didn’t quite get that. Display what?”
Maeve reached back to us and I took her hand, and Alvi’s in my other, before she pulled us with her along the corridor. “Gigantism. It’s when a tumor grows on the pituitary gland controlling growth hormones, which causes it to overproduce. It can cause people to grow extremely tall.”
The creature’s confusion seemed to grow, though its body wobbled along with its tail; excitement? “Humans have Marklen-Jauntes syndrome??” Maeve asked for clarification before it continued, “Marklen-Jauntes Syndrome, named after twin giants. Its symptoms are basically exactly what you described!”
Maeve clapped her hands together with a quiet snap, “Oh! It sure sounds like it!”
The giant pushed off from the doorway, and Maeve pulled us into the boxy junction. Their conversation faded in my ears as the realization hit me. It was a syndrome. A medical condition. Maeve had moved to float around the giant as she and the other pair began talking in earnest. I felt Alvi squeeze my paw. “Valek. You okay there?”
My ears fell in worry, “I… I don’t know. I mean look at it! How can Maeve not be terrified of that?”
Alvi ran her paw through the fur on my shoulder, “I think she may have seen worse by now.”
The memory of those shadestalkers on the ground, and Maeve’s shriek of furious pain on the wind sent a chill down my spine. “But shouldn’t that make her more cautious? Make sure that doesn’t happen again?”
Alvi tapped the tuft of her tail against me, a lilt of humor on her voice, “If Maeve were cautious, do you think she would have joined the program? Or came to the Berrypatch?”
I pulled Alvi tighter against me; she was absolutely right. My attention drifted back to their conversation; they were talking about the medical issues of giants. I fully focused on what they were saying as Maeve was finishing her thought,
“... Hopefully, with the Venlil's help, that will change!"
The giant’s ears fell in...shame? It has shame? “You would have to keep it secret. If it was known it was to help giants, the Venlil might refuse.”
Hold on, we would gladly help! “W-we wouldn’t!” The giant’s eyes and ears focused on me, while Maeve and the other human turned to face me. "Our people wouldn't keep secrets like that just because they're big! We may not be the ones in the clinic, but we would gladly offer medicine and equipment.”
The giant let out a deep huff, as if I told a bad joke! “Sir… I’m guessing you haven’t heard of me. Is that correct?”
“N-no?” My tail curled around Alvi and I at my admission. “Should I…?”
The giant’s massive tail swayed behind them, “I guess introductions are in order. My name is Tarlim.”
“The Venbig!” The human announced with a flourish while he slowly floated past ‘Tarlim’s’ front, while the latter whistled in amusement.
“Yes. The ‘Venbig.’ And the Texan there is Jacob.” I saw his tail wag at the name. A sign of fondness for a friend. “May I know who all of you are?”
“I am Maeve, a pleasure to meet you,” She nodded, as she shifted her grip on the rope to reveal Alvi and I behind her. “This is Valek, my exchange partner,” I reflexively flicked my ears in acknowledgment, “And this is Alvi, a close friend of ours.”
Alvi hadn’t moved much beyond floating. She had one eye turned to stare fully at the giant, but otherwise seemed to have locked up, as she had before.
The giant, Tarlim, returned our greeting with a polite bow as he steadied himself on some overhead netting. “Good to meet you. Now, the reason I asked is this: I was imprisoned in a correctional facility before I was able to escape.”
Escape?! I exclaimed, in thought and in voice, “Y-You escaped??”
The giant tried to deceive us, but it couldn’t keep its condition a secret! I put myself between it and Alvi, “Get away from him! He’s dangerous!”
Maeve tried to be kind, “Valek if he’s here I would hardly think-”
But she didn’t know what that meant! We made a promise that we would teach each other about our people, even the bad parts. I had to warn her about it! “Correctional Facilities are where we put dangerous Venlil! People with Predator Disease who have shown themselves to be a threat to the Herd! We try to teach them how to live with the Herd, but if he escaped? He's gotta be dangerous if he had to break out!” I kept the threatening beast in my sight as I put myself between them and my herd.
The beast crouched threateningly, Fixing me with a predatory stare as its ears locked onto me, “Dangerous? Do you know what they put me through in there? The people running those places are monsters!”
“They help people!” I protested, amazed that someone could see their own care as harmful. “They treat people so they are safe around the herd!”
“Oh, HA!” The beast’s face cracked in an angry snarl, “You must feel so safe when we’re strapped into chairs and electrified! Or jammed into rooms where the only safe floor is too small for everyone! It must be soooo perfect to hear about that!”
“Th… That…” They WHAT?! No! “No! Even if that were true, it would be to teach you to stick together! They… They wouldn’t do something like that if it didn’t work!” …right?
A tiny voice spoke behind me, but the beast bore down on my senses, “Stick together! Suuuure!” It’s tail lashed behind it. It was going to pounce! “That’s why they tried to kill me for making sure more people could fit in the Circle! And obviously the electric chair was for proper fear response! That's why they commissioned a chair with enough voltage to fry me from the inside out!”
“Electric chair? You were in an electric chair?” That same tiny voice. Alvi’s words pulled me from my maelstrom and I reached for salvation. I needed Maeve.
“Yes!” The Giant had turned his attention to Alvi as I flew towards my human. “I have been put in that-”
“I saw you on the TV!”
I was wrapping myself around Maeve when Alvi said that. She… saw him? He was on TV? All of us had fallen silent to watch her, including the giant.
“Which part?” It asked with a heavy breath. “The final judgment? The election debates?” I heard a whimper coming from its throat. “When… when my father…?”
Father? It had a father? Wait, why is that a surprise? They were born, so they must have had one.
Alvi spoke with what kindness she could, “I don’t remember much. I was still just a pup when the trial started, but I remember seeing your photo on the TV. My parents didn’t let me watch it after that. I started to research it after I moved out, that’s when I saw the Chair.”
I heard the giant growl. “That Brahking photo! They were so proud to hold me up even though I couldn’t!” Their attention swung back to me. “I don’t suppose, mister Valek, that was also justified?”
I stood tall at the challenge. This… They would not get past me. “I…! I don’t know about any photo! My Family doesn't have a TV, just a radio.”
They flicked their ears dismissively, before bringing them back to Alvi. Was it… kinder? When it was addressing her? “So you saw the chair.” They sighed. “It was only shown after the trial was done. Then you had to have seen what that management did. Instead of letting the place be investigated, they drove all the inmates outside so they could cause chaos! And slipped away while everyone was trying to figure out what happened!” It whistled a derisive laugh, “What about the crimes revealed? Producing and testing drugs to sell on the streets? How the sessions were altered for higher voltage? Oh! And do I even need to mention what happened to the women there?”
Its eye never left me, and I shrunk beneath it while Alvi spoke behind me, “No. No you don’t. What happened there was terrible, there’s no grooming that!”
“Worthy of the Arxur!” It huffed again. “What a title for that place. And you know what the worst part is?” It pointed directly at me with its primary claw; the insult clear in its seething voice. Singling me out as outside of the Herd. “I was in there because of that! Not some test, not Predator Disease, just stupid people Scared. O-Of. My. Size!!”
The rage in its throat was broken by its sobs, as its eyes bubbled with gathered tears, unable to fall for lack of gravity. This thing was crying? It had family, and it cried from remembered pain?
Maeve pushed off of her line, and drifted to the giant, her hand curling around their pointed claw and putting its paw back to their chest. Her words were quiet, a sharp contrast to the giant’s anguish. “I think that’s enough of that. I’m sorry that we had a rough start. We were in the wrong, and it wasn’t, and isn’t, ok for us to react like we did.”
We weren’t wrong! Look at it! How can we be wrong to be careful around something that could eat us without a thought?
I bet your dad thought the same thing.
The thought stopped my heart and flared my wool. When I saw it - No. Saw Him. - when I saw him I scratched and kicked, and I came out unscathed. He hadn’t so much as taken a single step toward us. Only talking. What happened? Why was I so afraid…
Maeve’s voice continued as my thoughts swirled, “We… are sorry for what happened, and want to make it right. I don’t want to intrude any more on your day with your partner, but can we treat you to something here? Valek tells me they have really good fried veg? I’ve never had Venlil Tempura before.”
Why is this familiar? What about this fear… The Meetup.
It-He… Tarlim? Heaved and hacked against waning sobs, barely croaking, “Y-You…you can’t make it right,” the words were only a whisper; barely captured at this distance. “This, all this, just made you more afraid of me. E-Every moment would be forced and shamed. Not genuine.”
This is the same fear I felt when I met Maeve. The same fear that was wrong. Fundamentally and completely. This fear…
Maeve answered without pause, “I think we could surprise you. But I won’t press it. Before I let you go, I’d like to end on a good…noooote…” Maeve checked her empty pockets, as her voice grew a more boisterous timbre, “ah man, I left my pad in the locker. Anyway, you’re way fluffier than the average Venlil, aren’t you? Well, humans have recorded something else called Hypertrichosis; Jacob may know it as Werewolf Syndrome. It manifests in humans as rapid and thick hair growth over their entire body! Jacob can show you when you get back to your pads. ”
Tarlim’s tail thrashed in distrust, but it-NO! HIS! ears fluttered, giving away their conflict. Maeve turned away and pulled herself back down the corridor we came from, scooping up Alvi and I as she passed. But I pulled away from her hand, meeting the eye of the giant.
Nothing about this fear is real. Who I am and what I do is MY CHOICE, and I had the gall to forget that.
“I reacted to you the same way I reacted to seeing Maeve for the first time - well, her hair, anyway. I’ve tried to be better, but I mess up sometimes. I’m… I’m sorry I messed up with you.”
I pushed off down the hall, and met my herd before we continued on.
“Wait!” We found our anchors, and turned to meet the bellowed plea. Tarlim dried his tears on his wool, before looking back at us. “There's a food court near the arcade.” Barely a pause as Tarlim took another breath; the same one I take when I make a Choice. “If we see each other there maybe… maybe we can start over…”
My mouth cracked in a human smile, and my tail swayed at the invitation. “I think I’d like that.”
Tarlim returned our kindness as we floated back down the corridor.
I wanted to just get back to having fun. I had come here with Maeve and Alvi to get away from reactions like that! Not… Not Be the reaction! This was- this was a vacation! Please just…
Breathe.
In. and Out. The Paw is not gone. We can make this work.
“Hey, Valek?” It was Maeve. My love, and my Choice. Her mask met my eye as I spun to meet her. “Are you OK?”
“I will be. I’m sorry for how I reacted.” I feigned a joyful flick and invited them to follow, “Come on! We can take another path and find something fun that way.” I floated ahead of my herd and led the way.
I checked behind me at the next turn and they were following a distance behind. Alvi showed her concern with her tail, while Maeve was unreadable through her mask. It was ok, we can put this behind us once we find something else to occupy us.
Well that was a disaster.
The Maze was more of a problem then I expected it to be. The maze itself was easy enough, but the ‘puzzle rooms’ turned out to be all of the rooms, but they were randomly activated. Sometimes we would fly into a room and it would shift color, pulling the supports into the wall and starting to list the game rules. The last room before we got out kept shifting the gravity, so by the time we made it to the exit we were exhausted in mind and body. Well, Alvi and I were. I don’t believe I had seen Maeve so energized.
“Wanna go again?!” Her voice was bubbling with sarcasm, and she couldn't contain her mischievous cackle when Alvi and I met her mask and signaled an emphatic No! In unison.
She pulled Alvi against her and asked her to hold on, quickly doing the same to me. She pushed off from the Maze exit to the open air in the center. She did the same kick as back in the maze and we started to spin, at which Maeve let go of the two of us to slow our inertia. We spun there together, holding paws and hands, before I spoke into the space between us.
“I’m sorry that I ruined the day. I thought we could go back to having fun, but I spoiled the mood.”
Maeve spoke first, “It’s alright Valek,”
Then Alvi, “It may not have been the best start, but he offered to try again.”
Maeve squeezed my paw and met my eye, “And I look forward to it. That's all we can really do: move forward.” She pulled us back into a tight hug, “Thank you, both of you, for a wonderful day.”
An angry gurgle bubbled up from our embrace, and Maeve continued, “But I could really do with a proper meal. Valek, you mentioned something about fried veg?”
I pulled away and looked around at the various signage, pointing at the exit we had entered from. “The food court connects with the Visor Arcade, so we can go out the way we came in.”
“Alright! Alvi, you hold on, and Valek? Don’t.”
“What?”
Maeve kicked her legs again and set us spinning quickly, before flinging me in the direction of the exit, and she and Alvi the opposite way. I may or may not have squealed in terror during my hasty flight.
I was able to catch a support line as I passed. I looked out to see that Maeve had done the same, and was just pushing off to come my direction; Alvi was completely wrapped around her torso, like she was caught out in Galetime.
My tail thrashed behind me in admonishment when Maeve was in ear-sense. “You evil woman! You could have killed me!”
I could hear her - no, Alvi! - giggling as they floated over! She was having the time of her life! Maeve defended herself breathlessly, “Oh, come on, that was barely a brisk walk. I knew you’d correct yourself, that’s why I threw you instead of Alvi.”
I hit the pad and opened the bulkhead as they met me, Maeve barely correcting against a passing line to float cleanly through the threshold. Alvi disengaged once we were all inside. “Also because I’m her favorite.”
I flattened my ears in playful anger while she stuck her tongue out at me, and Maeve spoke up from the button. “Now, now, children, I love you both equally. One is just a little more biblical than the other.”
A little more religious? What?
“But I think it is time to come back to earth.” her hand hovered over the button while Alvi and I found our supports.
A button pressed, a growing hum, and our feet met the floor … Eventually. We had forgotten to remember that the floor was White, so we all collapsed on the semi-soft ground head-first. Thank the Sun for padding!
“Okay!” I heard Alvi comment, “Seems we’ve been re-educated on where the ground is.” She stood, shaking her wool. “Wish it hadn’t been a crash course.”
Maeve cackled from the floor as I stood, “HaHa! Multilingual pun! I love it!”
She was still giggling when we walked over to help her up. We were just dusting ourselves and flattening errant tufts when the exit hatch opened, and we stepped outside.
Alvi was last to step over the bulkhead, nearly tripping as her paw caught its lip. Having recovered, she asked, “Anything else you would like to do before lunch Maeve?”
Maeve took a quiet breath as we all waved an excited goodbye to Shishi, cold can of Sprunk in paw. “Speaking from experience, if we wanna do VR, and I kinda do, eating before may be unwise.”
Having reached our locker, I waited for Maeve to don her burka, “The Visor Arcade is on the way, and I’d love to show you this quick sightseeing game. It’s pretty basic, but it will show a few other Federation Homeworlds too!”
Maeve’s voice lit up, and I regretted that her eyes were hidden, as I knew they were shining! “I can see More worlds?! Yes, please! Let’s do that!” Maeve bounded forward almost to around the corner. “Uh… Where is it?”
I flicked my tail teasingly, “It is where we are going. You shouldn’t go running off, you know how strangers are.”
Maeve stood at the corner with her good hand on her hip, “Well then be a good boy and lead the way!”
I could feel my snout quickly blooming.
Oh, that’s not fair.
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<< The Trials
Friday, February 25, 2000 / Trial 2 / Day 21

• Page 47: Closing Arguments
  
• Verdict Sheet
  
• 1:35PM: Jury deliberations begin
  
• 4:25PM Verdict Read; Syed convicted of:
  
  • First Degree Murder (Life)
  • Kidnapping (30 years, consecutive to life)
  • False imprisonment and robbery (10 years, concurrent with kidnapping)
• Rabia remembers going down to see Adnan that same evening, and says that's when Adnan gave her Asia's letters, (according to Serial podcast.) Adnan remembers calling Rabia on the phone, telling her about the letters, and mailing them to her.
  

Saturday, February 26, 2000

• Baltimore Sun:
  
  • Jury finds teen guilty of killing ex-girlfriend; Adnan Masud Syed faces possible life term for Hae Min Lee's death
  • Jury Finds Teen Guilty of Kiling Ex-Girfriend

Monday, February 28, 2000

• Memo from Gutierrez Associate Rita P. to Gutierrez
  
  • Adnan has called and he is requesting Patuxent. Rita reminds that Patuxent isn't taking lifers.
  • Adnan has told Rita that he wants Gutierrez to handle his appeal.
  • Adnan would like to meet with Gutierrez before sentencing.
  • Rabia has called and wants to set up a meeting ASAP.
  • [No mention of Asia.]
• Rabia, Shamim and Tanveer meet with Gutierrez who has reluctantly agreed to meet them. If they discussed Asia, Rabia did not include this information in her memo to the mosque re; new witnesses.
  
• Adnan writes a letter to Yusuf
  
• Approximate: Rabia mails Adnan sentencing guidelines and information about prosecutorial misconduct.
  
• Adnan has been in jail/prison for one year.
  

Tuesday, February 29, 2000

• According to Rabia, NBC's Dateline airs an episode about a wrongfully convicted man.

Wednesday, March 1, 2000

• Rabia Memo updates the Masjid Committee re; the meeting with Gutierrez.
  
  • Rabia suggests pressuring witnesses, but doesn't mention Asia.
  • Rabia tells the Masjid Committee: "At appeal it is generally suggested a different attorney is used rather than the trial attorney. This was even suggested by Ms. Gutierrez herself." Fourteen years later Rabia told Sarah Koenig that she thought Gutierrez bungled the trial on purpose, so she could make money off the appeal.
• Upon conviction, Adnan parents and mosque had paid $95,800 to Gutierrez's firm and there was an outstanding balance of $57,292.
  

Friday, March 3, 2000

• Gutierrez visits Adnan re: his appeal.
  
  • Her last prison visit was on September 17, 1999, before the trial.
  • March 3, 2000 is Gutierrez's eighth and final face to face (prison) meeting with Adnan.
  • Did they discuss Asia?

Saturday, March 4, 2000

• According to Adnan (Rabia's book), this weekend is the first time he told Rabia about Asia's letters (despite what Rabia told Sarah.) In Serial, Rabia says she received Asia's letters from Adnan on Friday, February 27.)
  
  • Letter from Adnan to Rabia
  • Doesn't mention Asia or her letters.
  • Adnan has received the sentencing guidelines and information about prosecutorial misconduct, that Rabia mailed him.

Monday, March 6, 2000

• Cristina Gutierrez files Motion for new trial. Issues raised:
  
  • Adnan's due process rights were violated when Judge Heard refused to let the jury know that Jay did not plead guilty to accessory after the fact.
  • Judge Heard refused to allow Adnan to prove that Jay's plea agreement included unwritten benefits.
  • State didn't disclose Jay's plea agreement prior to the trial.
  • Verdicts were "against the weight of the evidence."
  • There was insufficient evidence to sustain the convictions.
  • Heard improperly restricted the defense's presentation of its case.
• Approximate: According to Adnan, this is when he mails copies of Asia's letters to Rabia
  

Wednesday, March 8, 2000

• Jay's driver's license is suspended by the DMV for failure to appear on three traffic citations.

Friday, March 17, 2000

• Approximate: According to Rabia's book, she received Asia's letters -- via the mail from Adnan -- "a couple of weeks" after March 4. (In 2014, Rabia said that Adnan gave her the letters the same afternoon he was convicted.)
  
• Approximate: Rabia's To Do List includes getting Asia to sign an affidavit
  

Saturday, March 25, 2000

• Rabia and Saad track down Asia. Rabia and Saad drive Asia to a check cashing place to sign an "affidavit".
  
• This affidavit narrowed the alibi to 2:40PM based on Murphy's closing arguments.
  

Thursday, March 30, 2000

• Adnan's parents write letter to Gutierrez, imploring her to use Asia's affidavit. No mention of Asia's letters.
  
• Adnan's letter to Gutierrez asking her to use Asia in a motion for a new trial. No mention of Asia's letters.
  

Friday, March 31, 2000

• Approximate: Rabia weighs possible outcomes of not firing Gutierrez

Saturday, April 1, 2000

• Gutierrez receives Adnan's letter.

Monday, April 3, 2000

• Adnan's parents write a letter to Judge Heard asking to postpone sentencing (and motion for a new trial) because Gutierrez had just been fired. (Letter received Tuesday, April 4?) No mention of Asia's letters.

Wednesday, April 5, 2000

• According to Adnan, the motion for a new trial was to have been argued on April 5.
  
• According to Judge Welch:
  

  The sentencing proceeding was scheduled for April 5, 2000. On that date, Judge Heard granted Petitioner's request to dismiss M. Cristina Gutierrez as Petitioner's counsel, and agreed to postpone the sentencing so that Petitioner's new attorney had time to adequately prepare.
  During the [April 5] proceedings, Judge Heard indicated that while she would not normally have the authority to remove Ms. Gutierrez as petitioner's attorney, the administrative judge, Judge Mitchell, granted Heard limited authority to hear Petitioner's request.
  

Sunday, May 21, 2000

• Adnan's 19th Birthday (Second birthday celebrated in prison.)

Monday, May 29, 2000

• Jet magazine issue with this photo is published and makes its way to the holding area for inmates in the "bullpen."

Tuesday, June 6, 2000

• Adnan is sitting in the "bullpen," waiting to be sentenced. He writes to Krista:
  

  You know what’s really weird? I was looking through this Jet magazine, in case you didn’t know it features African-American issues. -- Adnan tells Krista that Hae had been appearing in his dreams, and that dreams like this have a certain significance in Islam. Adnan writes that he was looking through this Jet magazine and he does a double take because the girl looks so much like Hae. Even her watch looks like Hae’s watch. Adnan writes: Take a look at it and tell me what you think. I hope I’m not going crazy.
  

• Sentencing hearing with Judge Heard: Transcripts (courtesy of redditor stop_saying_right, after Rabia refused to share.)
  
  • Adnan represented by Charles Dorsey.
  • Adnan maintains his innocence, despite Dorsey asking for leniency for a "crime of passion."
  • Adnan sentenced to:
  • Life in prison for 1st Degree Murder
  • 30 years for kidnapping (consecutive to murder)
  • 10 years for robbery (concurrent with kidnapping)
• Motion for new trial denied: This motion was filed March 6 by Gutierrez. Dorsey didn't argue in support of this motion. He may not have been aware of it. Even Heard was surprised by the lack of response from Dorsey as to the motion for new trial.
  
• Application for Leave of Appeal his sentence filed in Court of Special Appeals (CoSA) MD.
  
• Maryland law allows only 10 years from the date of sentencing to file the PCR motion.
  

Wednesday, June 7, 2000

• Baltimore Sun:
  
  • 19-year-old gets life sentence for killing former girlfriend
  • 19-year-old gets life sentence for killing former girlfriend
• Approximate: Thiru Vignarajah receives a a master's degree from King's College in medical ethics and law.
  

Wednesday, June 14, 2000

• Adnan writes to Rabia about the sentencing hearing. Adnan refers to his attorney as "This genius, Dorsey..."
  
• Adnan writes to Krista, referring to Dorsey as a "jerk."
  

  Sarah Koenig: Eight days later, post sentencing, [Adnan] writes Krista another letter and he’s so changed. By this time, he’d fired Gutierrez over the Asia letters and he’s being represented by a public defender he doesn’t really know. Adnan tells the guy [Dorsey] he wants to tell the court he did not kill Hae and that he is going to continue to fight this until the end. That’s what he says in his letter to Krista, and [Dorsey] says "No, no, no, terrible idea. Don’t say you’re innocent, it will anger the judge.” Adnan argues with [Dorsey], and according to Adnan, [Dorsey] says, “Well you can do it if you want but you’re just going to fuck yourself over.”
  

Thursday, July 6, 2000

• Jay's Sentencing Hearing. Jay receives a suspended sentence, not the two years prison per the plea agreement.
  
  • Case Information Sheet
  • Criminal Information Sheet
  • Stephanie and Jay have been broken up for over a year. But she is present in courtroom.
  • Adnan's appeal argues that if the trial jury had known Jay would get probation only, they would have thought this motivated Jay to lie. The defense implies that Jay knew he wasn't going to prison. But Jay didn't know. Jay thought he would get five years -- two, at the minimum.

Friday, July 28, 2000

• Public Defender Charles Dorsey files motion for modification of Adnan's sentence. The 2011 supplement to the petition for post conviction relief claims that Dorsey wasted Adnan's one chance for sentence modification, and should have waited.

Wednesday, August 2, 2000

• Judge Heard denies motion for sentence modification

August, 2000

• Jay owns a motorcycle, and the registration expires during this month

September 13, 2000

• 5PM: Jay is pulled over because the tags on his motorcycle have expired.

Sunday, October 15, 2000

• Hae Min Lee 20th Birthday

Monday, October 16, 2000

• Adnan writes to Rabia about Stephanie.
  

  Adnan has been thinking a lot about Stephanie and thinks that Stephanie knows something, or could shed a light on things. Adnan isn't comfortable reaching out to Stephanie. So, he has asked Krista to help. But, Krista doesn't really like Stephanie. Adnan doesn't feel comfortable writing questions for Krista to ask Stephanie. So, he's going to have Krista come visit, and tell Krista - in person - what to ask Stephanie. Then Krista will reach out to Stephanie via email, and act as a go-between Stephanie and Adnan. Adnan wants to make sure Rabia knows this is why there is a girl on his visitors list. Apparently, girls have wanted to visit Adnan before, but he didn't want his mother to cross paths with any female visitors.
  

February 28, 2001

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for two years

Monday, May 21, 2001

• Adnan's 20th Birthday
  
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan begins working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates. Over eight years, he is able to save up $10,000.00
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: at Jessup, Adnan had a good job. He was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier. Being an entrepreneurial sort he ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.

Thursday, May 24, 2001

• Gutierrez was disbarred on May 24, 2001, at the age of 50.
  

  The state Court of Appeals ordered her "disbarred by consent" May 24, after Gutierrez agreed to resign rather than fight complaints filed against her with the state Attorney Grievance Commission...
  

June 2, 2001

• Baltimore Sun: Lawyer Gutierrez agrees to disbarment - byline Sarah Koenig
  

  "As she got progressively sicker, she found it increasingly hard to make communications with the clients," Pettit said. "I never got any indication that there was any kind of error or incompetence. It was all about her being sick."
  

Thursday, July 19, 2001

• Baltimore Sun: Attorney is drawing numerous complaints - byline Sarah Koenig
  

  Over 20 people filed claims against Gutierrez with the Clients' Security Trust Fund
  

  • Tanveer says Adnan's family didn't see this article, or they might have filed, too.
  • Rabia says that Adnan knew all about this fund and applied to get reimbursed, but was denied.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001

• Unrelated: Two hijacked aircraft crash into the World Trade Center in New York City, while a third smashes into The Pentagon in Arlington County, Virginia, and a fourth into a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, in a series of coordinated suicide attacks by 19 members of al-Qaeda. In total 2,996 people are killed.

Wednesday, September 19, 2001

• Adnan's Honda has been returned to his family.

Wednesday, September 25, 2001

• Despite the fact that Adnan has been regularly writing to Krista, Adnan writes to Saad that wants to start writing to non-Muslims.

Monday, October 15, 2001

• Hae Min Lee 21st Birthday

January 15, 2002

• Adnan writes Rabia about (1) prayer, (2) a time before his dad started "losing it," (3) how Saad's car was stolen with a bunch of TVs inside, (4) how he hasn't been molested in prison. Adnan wants to know why Rabia and Saad don't visit him any more.

Wednesday, February 27, 2002

• Adnan's Appeal Brief filed by Attorney Warren A. Brown Issues raised:
  
  • Prosecutorial misconduct & Brady rule
  • Did court prevent Adnan from presenting evidence
  • Hearsay based on prejudicial nature of Hae's letter
  • Admission of Hae's diary
  • No mention of Asia's letters.

Thursday, February 28, 2002

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for three years.

Tuesday, April 30, 2002

• State's Response to Adnan's Appeal

May 6, 2002

• Adnan write Rabia about the pending appeal decision.
  

  He tells Rabia that oral arguments are scheduled for June 3, and even though Adnan's Dad will be there, Adnan asks Rabia if she will please go. Adnan writes that he really needs Rabia and that Warren A. Brown is an asshole. Adnan says that he understands Rabia is studying for the bar, has an ongoing custody dispute, and is job-hunting. It's okay if she's too busy because he knows she would come if she could.
  

Spring, 2002

• WHS Class of 2002 prints a Memorial to Hae in their yearbook.

June 3, 2002

• Oral arguments heard with respects to Adnan's appeal.

Tuesday, May 21, 2002

• Adnan's 21st Birthday
  
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan is still working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates. Over eight years, he is able to save up $10,000.00
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: Adnan was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier... He ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.
• Undated 2002 photo of Adnan visited by Rabia and Saad
  

September, 2002

• Approximate: Thiru Vignarajah begins attending Harvard Law School

Tuesday, October 15, 2002

• Hae Min Lee 22nd Birthday

February 28, 2003

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for four years.

Monday, March 19, 2003

• Adnan's Appeal Denied by Justice John J. Bishop, Jr..
  
  • Justice John J. Bishop, Jr. Bio
  • Adnan's petition for post conviction relief should have been filed within one year of this date.
  • Inexplicably, Adnan waited seven years between this date and filing for post conviction relief. Maryland law allows no more than 10 years from sentencing to file for PCR. Asia's affidavit was obtained in 2000.
  • Rabia wrote in her book that Adnan felt burned by the system, exhausted of funds, and didn't want to use up his last available option. He wanted to hold onto hope.
  • In 2014, after the first two episodes of Serial were released, Rabia lied to the readers of her blog. She told them that Adnan was forced to wait 10 years to apply for post conviction relief. But Rabid knew that Adnan could file in 2003, and she knew why he waited. In 2014, Rabia didn't want anyone to know that spending seven years in prison doing nothing was Adnan's choice, and strategy.

Date Unknown

• Adnan files a Pro Se petition for Writ of Certiorari. In 2004, Adnan wrote Rabia that he filed this himself, and it was denied.

Wednesday, May 21, 2003

• Adnan's 22nd Birthday
  
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan is still working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates. Over eight years, he is able to save up $10,000.00
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: Adnan was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier... He ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.

June 20, 2003

• The Court of Appeals denies Syed's Pro Se petition for Writ of Certiorari.

August/September, 2003

• Approximate: C. Justin Brown -- who graduated Cornell University in 1992, enrolls in the University of Maryland, School of Law. [Does anyone know the exact date?]

Wednesday, October 15, 2003

• Hae Min Lee 23rdBirthday

Thursday, January 29, 2004

• Cristina Gutierrez date of death (heart attack)

Approximate, 2004

• Asia is working for JMP and moonlighting as a stripper. She is eventually fired from JMP for poor performance. Court filing here here.
  
• According to Justin Brown: Adnan's family took possession of Gutierrez's defense files at some point in 2004, after Gutierrez passed away. Brown says that he took possession of copies of Gutierrez's files in 2009. For at least five years, Adnan's family had sole custody of the defense file. Hence the term: "the remnants of the defense file."
  
• According to Adnan's July 2009 letter to Rabia, at some point in 2004, Chris Flohr recommended the firm Nathans & Biddle for his application for post conviction relief.
  

February 28, 2004

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for five years.

March 1, 2004

• Thiru Vignarajah named President of the Harvard Law Review

Friday, May 21, 2004

• Adnan's 23rd Birthday
  
  • Approximate: In the Spring of 2004, Adnan gets a cell phone. Over the next five years, Adnan has several cell phones. At least one of the phones was smuggled in by a guard, in the hollowed out handle of a drill.
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan is working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates. Over eight years, he is able to save up $10,000.00
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: Adnan was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier... He ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.

July, 2004

• By July of 2004, if not earlier, Asia has hired an attorney to represent her as she seeks to sue her former employer for discrimination.

July 27, 2004

• Baltimore Sun re; Jada Lambert's killer: DNA match results in conviction in 1998 rape, murder

Friday, September 24, 2004

• Adnan receives Fundraiser Participation Award
  
• Adnan receives Volunteer Activity Coordinator's Award
  

Friday, October 15, 2004

• Hae Min Lee 24th birthday

Sunday, November 28, 2004

• Adnan writes Rabia:
  
  • He is going to wait as long as possible to file for Post Conviction Relief. He wants to take nine years to research his case, and then hire a post conviction lawyer.
  • [Ten years later, in 2014, Rabia lied to readers of her blog, writing that Adnan had to wait ten years before he could file for PCR.]
  • He is not going to pursue the brain mapping idea presented by Chris Flohr.
  • [Rabia writes in her book that they didn't pursue this brain mapping idea because Justin Brown wouldn't want anything distracting from the PCR. Trouble is, Justin Brown didn't graduate from law school until 2005, and wasn't Adnan's attorney until years after the decision was made not to pursue brain mapping.]

Thursday, December 2, 2004

• Testing:
  
  • Adnan's blood and hair out for testing
  • Reason for testing?

Monday, December 6, 2004

• Adnan's blood and hair returned to evidence.

December 24, 2004

• Having retained an attorney in the summer of 2004, Asia McClain files a lawsuit against her former employer, James M Pleasants Company, alleging that she had been discriminated against her on the basis of race, and retaliated against for complaining about racial discrimination in the workplace. Court filing here.

January 2, 2005

• Asia stops communicating with the attorney she has engaged to represent her in her lawsuit against JMP.
  
• Approximate: Thiru is a clerk for United States Circuit Court Judge Guido Calabresi
  

February 28, 2005

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for six years.

April 20, 2005

• Hae's fingernails, hair, and swabs out for testing.

April 21, 2005

• Hae's fingernails, hair, and swabs returned to evidence. Not out long enough to test. Taken out by mistake?

April 28, 2005

• Asia and James M. Pleasants company submit a joint rule report. On an unknown date, Asia acknowledged that she was moonlighting as an exotic dancer from 9pm-3:30am on days when she worked for JMP.
  
• This issue is not that Asia worked as a stripper.
  

May 2, 2005

• A "rule order" is entered by the Court in the matter of Asia's lawsuit against JMP.

Saturday, May 21, 2005

• Adnan's 24th Birthday
  
  • Approximate: Adnan has had a cell phone for a year, and gets a new t-mobile cell phone. This is his second cell phone. He uses the first cell phone to call T-mobile customer support when he can't get the t-mobile cell phone to work. At least one of the phones was smuggled in by a guard, in the hollowed out handle of a drill.
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan is still working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates. Over eight years, he is able to save up $10,000.00
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: Adnan was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier... He ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.

June 3, 2005

• Asia's attorney withdraws based on the fact that he hasn't heard from Asia since January 1, 2005.

June, 2005

• Approximate: Thiru Vignarajah graduates Harvard Law.
  
• Approximate: C. Justin Brown graduates from University of Maryland School of Law. [Does anyone know the exact date?]
  
• Approximate: After graduating law school, C. Justin Brown clerks for Andre M. Davis, U.S. District Court for the District of Maryland. [Does anyone know the exact date?]
  

Saturday, October 15, 2005

• Hae Min Lee 25th birthday

Saturday, December 9, 2005

• Adnan receives Certificate of Appreciation
  
• Adnan receives Distinguished Gentleman Award
  

January, 2006

• Thiru clerks for United States Supreme Court Justice Stephen G. Breyer

February 2, 2006

• Asia's lawsuit is dismissed as neither her attorney, the court, nor the defendant has heard from her since January of 2005.
  
  • [Asia] has failed to respond to JMP's Motion to Dismiss in any way, after she was warned by the Court that failure to respond or participate would result in dismissal of this action. Given [Asia's] complete failure to respond or participate meaningfully in this case and her violation of the Court’s orders, the Court concludes that dismissal pursuant to Rules 37 and 41 is appropriate, and that no less drastic sanction would be effective.

February 28, 2006

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for seven years.
  
• Approximate: At some point in 2006, Justin Brown passes the Maryland State Bar Exam. Exact month unknown. Bar exams are given in February and July. [Does anyone know the exact date?]
  

Sunday, May 21, 2006

• Adnan's 25th Birthday
  
  • Approximate: Adnan has had a cell phone for two years. At least one of the phones he has had was smuggled in by a guard, in the hollowed out handle of a drill.
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan is still working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates. Over eight years, he is able to save up $10,000.00
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: Adnan was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier... He ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.

September, 2006

• Approximate: C. Justin Brown begins working at Nathans & Biddle as an Associate. [Does anyone know the exact date?]

Saturday, September 2, 2006

• Adnan receives Fundraiser Participation Award at Jessup.

Wednesday, September 6, 2006

• Since prison officials still don't know about the cell phone, Adnan receives Certificate of Achievement for going three years without an infraction.
  
• Adnan receives Volunteer Activity Coordinator Award at Jessup.
  

Sunday, October 15, 2006

• Hae Min Lee 26th birthday

January, 2007

• Thiru clerks for United States Supreme Court Justice Stephen G. Breyer

February 28, 2007

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for eight years.

Monday, May 21, 2007

• Adnan's 26th Birthday
  
  • Approximate: Adnan has had a cell phone for three years. At least one of the phones he has had was smuggled in by a guard, in the hollowed out handle of a drill.
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan is still working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates. Over eight years, he is able to save up $10,000.00
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: Adnan was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier... He ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.

Monday, October 15, 2007

• Hae Min Lee 27th birthday

December 4, 2007

• Since prison officials still don't know about the cell phone, Adnan receives Certificate of Achievement for three years of being infraction free.
  
• Approximate: Thiru finishes two years of as clerk for United States Supreme Court Justice Stephen G. Breyer
  

January 13, 2008

• At Jessup, Adnan Receives Devoted Program Supporters Award Certificate
  
• Since prison officials still don't know about the cell phone and hustles, Adnan receives Certificate of Appreciation for being "infraction free" for three years.
  

January/February, 2008

• Kandra / Adnan's Wife:
  
  • Approximate: Adnan sends Kandra $10,000.00 - Rabia doesn't hear about this until it has already happened.
  • Approximate: Kandra visits Adnan and they are married by another inmate. Rabia doesn't hear about this until it has already happened.
  • Kandra begins helping Adnan with his case by doing computer searches and making copies.

February 28, 2008

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for nine years.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

• Adnan's 27th Birthday
  
  • Approximate: Adnan has had a cell phone for four years. At least one of the phones he has had was smuggled in by a guard, in the hollowed out handle of a drill.
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan is still working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates.
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: Adnan was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier... He ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

• Baltimore Police Officer Lee emails Nathans & Biddle's C. Justin Brown: An item in evidence may have been destroyed. (Is this DNA?)

Saturday, October 15, 2008

• Hae Min Lee 28th birthday

Saturday, December 13, 2008

• Adnan receives Devoted Program Supporters Award in Jessup.

February 28, 2009

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for ten years.
  
• Photo of Adnan after ten years in prison
  

May, 2009-Approximate

• According to this letter, Justin Brown left Nathans & Biddle in the Spring of 2009, to start his own firm.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

• Adnan's 28th Birthday
  
  • Approximate: Adnan has had a cell phone for five years. At least one of the phones was smuggled in by a guard, in the hollowed out handle of a drill.
  • Approximate: According to Rabia, Adnan is still working hustles like making photocopies, trading, getting medicine, books and other contraband for other inmates.
  • Approximate: According to Sarah Koenig: Adnan was a clerk in the Chaplain's Office which gave him access to a computer, and to a printer and copier... He ran a couple of side businesses, printing stuff and making copies for people.

June 9, 2009

• Adnan's attorney - Justin Brown - and Asia's future attorney - Gary Proctor - work together, on an unrelated case. This filing does not mention Nathans & Biddle. Does this indicate that by July of 2009, Justin Brown was no longer employed by Nathans & Biddle? [Does anyone know the exact date Justin Brown left Nathans & Biddle and started his own firm?]

June 20, 2009

• Adnan writes to Rabia that he has been moved to Supermax, in Cumberland, and no longer has the use of a cell phone.
  
• Adnan's 10/24/2016 request for bail indicates Adnan was cited for having a cellular phone in 2009. In SERIAL, Sarah Koenig said Adnan had a cell phone for five years.
  
• Kandra has only been able to visit Adnan four times during the year they were "married." After Adnan is moved to Supermax/Cumberland, Kandra never sees Adnan again.
  

July 14, 2009

• Adnan writes to Rabia that Larry Nathans will charge $30,000.00 just to look at transcripts. Adnan reminds Rabia that Larry Nathans was referred by Chris Flohr in 2004.
  
• Adnan writes that Justin Brown took the lead, then left Nathans & Biddle and started his own firm (about two months ago), and can charge Adnan less because of overhead.
  

Thursday, October 15, 2009

• Hae Min Lee 29th birthday

Winter, 2009

• Approximate: Justin Brown has said that he began working on Adnan's case in late 2009, while still at Nathans & Biddle.
  
  • This conflicts with the letter that Adnan wrote Rabia in July of 2009. In that letter Adnan says that Justin Brown took the lead on Adnan's case while at Nathans & Biddle, and started his own firm "about two months before" July of 2009.
  • Approximate: Justin Brown says that he took possession of copies of the defense files in 2009. [He did not say the month or date.]
  • Justin Brown is at least the 10th defense attorney to work on Adnan's case.
  • Unsubstantiated: Justin Brown filed a petition based on Asia's March 2005 affidavit, arguing that Adnan's trial might have gone another way if Gutierrez had checked out Asias' story. [No record of this affidavit exists.]

February 28, 2010

• Adnan has been in jail/prison for eleven years.

Early/Mid 2010

• Approximate: Justin Brown was still working for Nathans & Biddle in late 2009. This conflicts with the letter Adnan wrote to Rabia in July of 2009: That Justin Brown already started his own firm.

April 11, 2010

• Events described by various parties as follows:
  
  • Urick first PCR: Before Asia called him, he didn't know about the PCR motion. She was concerned if she had to come out here. I explained to her, I was not her attorney. But I told her that she would have to be served. And if she was served, and if they made the proper arrangements, she would have to show up.
  • Serial, Episode 1: Asia's fiancé comes to the door, opens it part way, tells the investigator that she cannot speak to Asia, but that from what he knows of Adnan's case, Adnan is guilty and deserved the punishment he got.
  • Rabia: Adnan’s PI returns with terrible news. Asia won’t testify. The PI never spoke to her, but her fiance made it very clear, in a very nasty way that suggested an anti-Muslim prejudice, that Asia would not be involved and to leave them alone . . . Faced with a tough decision, [Justin Brown] decides to submit [Asia's] letters but not subpeona her for the appeal hearing.
  • Asia Affidavit: In the late spring of 2010, I learned that the Syed defense team was attempting to contact me. I was initially caught off guard by this and did not talk to them.
  • 2016 PCR: Asia testified that her husband met the PI outside, then came inside and told her he thought it was about that girl that got killed. That she asked her husband to take the man's card, but she didn't talk to him. That she looked up the case on the internet, and called Kevin Urick. Asia says these are the notes she took during her April 11, 2010 conversation with Urick. Asia testified that Urick convinced her Adnan was guilty and that Brown was trying to play the system.

End of May, Approximate

• According to Rabia, Justin Brown asks Adnan to take a polygraph test to determine the likelihood that he is lying about having asked Gutierrez for a plea deal. According to Rabia, Adnan passes.

Friday, May 21, 2010

• Adnan's 29th Birthday.

[Post Conviction Timeline II>>]()

As I’ve live-posted about my vaginoplasty recovery, a lot of people have asked me about what hospital I’m at and how I chose this program. Now that I’m at home, I wanted to answer those questions publicly.
First off, I want to let you all know that I’m not the kind of person who does a bunch of research into my medical care. I often see people on this, and other trans-related subreddits, having super complex discussions about injectable hormones versus oral hormones or advances in surgical techniques and what’s happening in other countries for their medical advances. My mom is a nurse and I have had great medical care throughout my life, and so I just generally trust my medical professionals. I also want to acknowledge that there’s a HUGE level of privilege that allows me to do that. I’m white, middle class, have good health insurance, live near a major regional medical center, and have a great support system.
I live in Salt Lake City, Utah. It’s a bit like Austin, Texas, in that it’s a blue island in a red state. I could talk more about the general experience of transitioning here, but this post is focused on my surgical endeavors. It’s also home to the University of Utah Hospital, which is a teaching hospital with incredible amounts of funding and serves as a major regional medical center for the Mountain West (Idaho, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada). The UofU has offered vaginoplasties since 2018.
When I was considering the surgery, the UofU does online webinars where they talk about the different GC surgeries they offer. They have separate seminars for HRT, MTF bottom surgeries, FTM bottom surgeries, and maybe also top surgery webinars. I attended only the MTF bottom surgery webinar. They offer the webinars pretty regularly (maybe quarterly?). I didn’t personally think that the webinar was that helpful, because it mostly covered information that you could find out online, like the differences between procedures. The most helpful part in theory was hearing from previous patients who had gotten surgery there, but sometimes us queer folks can be a bit on the awkward and weird side and I felt like the particular person who spoke at my webinar was not helpful to hear from at all. She treated the webinar like it was a private appointment with her physician and was asking for dilation tips and the webinar manager kept having to be like “you should ask your physical therapist at your appointments” and it wasn’t easy to get any sense of what the recovery was like or what the aesthetics were or how sex was or anything.
Still, the convenience and in-network for my insurance made UofU a great option. I did have some reservations about the newness of the program and I had more questions and if I’m being totally honest here a lot of them were about aesthetics. I’m vain enough to want a pretty vagina.
The first step was a consult. I met with a PA for several hours and she answered all of my questions and gave much more in depth information about everything. It was exactly what I hoped that the webinar would be, but better because it was private.
After my consult, it became apparent that I’d have to delay the surgery. A good friend was getting married in Hawaii, since his now-wife is Hawaiian and all of her family is there. I couldn’t get the time off from work for that trip, plus surgery. I decided to delay my surgery a year so that I could be there for him.
During that year, two acquaintances had a vaginoplasty at the UofU, so I was able to get the inside scoop from them. They both reported very positively about the care they received, the appearance afterward, and their sexual experiences. One of them offered to let me see her real-live vagina, which I felt awkward about following up on so I said no, but I think I would have liked to see it and shouldn’t have let that hold me back from her generous offer.
After my year delay, I did the consult again with a different PA and once again got my questions answered and this time, the program had implementeda new part of the consult where they showed pictures of previous patients. They showed after photos from around the 3 month mark and a couple of photos from right immediately after. I thought that was the best part of the entire consult, and definitely the most reassuring. The vaginas all looked super natural, and I was fully confident in my decision to go forward at the UofU.
Meeting with the surgeons in advance wasn’t part of the consult process. I asked if I would meet them and they said surgeons aren’t usually met until day of, but that if it was important to me to meet them they could get that set up. It wasn’t important to me, so I didn’t bother. My questions had all already been answered.
Then the next two months were getting approval from my insurance. The biggest hurdle I had was getting all my letters lined up because I actually don’t regularly see a mental health provider. My mental health has been very good due to a career switch to a job I love and transitioning, so my mental health providers were a couple years old so it took some reaching out but they were happy to do my letters without seeing me for a new appointment. I did have to kind of call and email quite a few times on all providers to get those letters submitted. I just turned the letters over to the UofU and they handled my insurance approval.
I got the approval in January, and I signed up for the first available date with the surgeons that I wanted, which was the end of May. There are two teams of surgeons who do vaginoplasties at the UofU, and my friends both had Dr. Agarwal do theirs and she’s the head of the whole program, so I wanted her to do mine.
Between January and May, I just had two appointments. One was with PT to do some pelvic floor exercises to strengthen the area in advance and the other was another follow up with the PA where we reviewed surgery prep and I got a whole packet of info- what medications to discontinue and what I could eat the day before surgery etc.
Then I just showed up on the morning of surgery and you all know the rest.
I do want to note that while I publicly posted that I have BCBS insurance, starting in July of this year the UofU may be out of network for BCBS. Gap coverage may still exist.

Hey all! I was hoping to get feedback on my tentative school list, in preparation for the 2023-2024 admissions cycle. I'm also worried about how unbalanced my MCAT exam score is, so any constructive feedback on how it may be perceived would be appreciated. Thank you so much in advance!
MCAT exam score: 515 (126/131/127/131) Cumulative GPA: 3.95 Science GPA: 3.94 State of residence: Connecticut Ethnicity: ORM, East Asian female Undergraduate institution: T15 historically women's LAC located in Massachusetts. Also attended a boarding school in high school located in MA. Undergraduate major: Data science Year in school: Just graduated Shadowing experience and specialties represented:

• Primary care -- 20 hours over 1 month
• Hematology-oncology -- 80 hours over 1 month
• Total: 100 hours

Clinical experience, volunteer or paid:

• Patient transport volunteer -- 96 hours over 3 months
• Free clinic volunteer -- 576 hours over 2 years
• Total: 672 hours

Non-clinical volunteering experience:

• Soup kitchen volunteer -- 360 hours over 2.5 years
• Total: 360 hours

Research experience and productivity:

• Neuroscience lab since high school -- 2,538 hours over 6 years (part-time over the summer and during breaks)
  • 2 first-author publications
  • 2 poster presentations
• Independent public health research project -- 600 hours over 2 years
  • 1 first-author publication
  • Plenary talk presentation at national statistics conference
• Total: 3,138 hours

Leadership experience:

• Residential hall president -- 1,620 hours over 3 years
• Data science club president -- 288 hours over 1 year
• Residential hall treasurer -- 72 hours over 1 year
• Data science club secretary -- 396 hours over 3 years
• Total: 2,376 hours

Non-clinical employment:

• Dining hall worker -- 192 hours over 1 year
• Total: 192 hours

Awards and honors:

• National statistics honor society
• School consortium statistics prize
• 1st place in school consortium data science competition
• Nominated for school community award two years in a row
• 1st place in national statistics competition
• Merit scholarship all four years

Tentative school list:

1. Yale School of Medicine
2. University of Connecticut School of Medicine
3. Frank H. Netter MD School of Medicine at Quinnipiac University
4. University of Massachusetts T.H. Chan School of Medicine
5. University of California, San Francisco, School of Medicine
6. Albert Einstein College of Medicine
7. Chicago Medical School at Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine & Science
8. Geisinger Commonwealth School of Medicine
9. George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences
10. Georgetown University School of Medicine
11. Hackensack Meridian School of Medicine
12. Kaiser Permanente Bernard J. Tyson School of Medicine
13. Lewis Katz School of Medicine at Temple University
14. Loyola University Chicago Stritch School of Medicine
15. New York Medical College
16. Pennsylvania State University College of Medicine
17. Sidney Kimmel Medical College at Thomas Jefferson University
18. The Warren Alpert Medical School of Brown University
19. Tufts University School of Medicine
20. University of Pittsburgh School of Medicine
21. Wake Forest University School of Medicine
22. Western Michigan University Homer Stryker M.D. School of Medicine
23. University of Rochester School of Medicine and Dentistry
24. Emory University School of Medicine
25. Boston University Aram V. Chobanian & Edward Avedisian School of Medicine

Rfe was for the medical. FO was originally but case was transferred to NYC FO.
Category: IR-1/CR-1 (U.S. citizen filing for a spouse)
Total Days: 490 days
I-765 Start: Jan 21, 2022 Decision: Feb 28, 2022 @National Benefits Center
I-130 Start: Jan 21, 2022 Decision: May 01, 2023 @National Benefits Center
I-485 Start: Jan 21, 2022 Decision: May 27, 2023 @National Benefits Center
● Jan 21, 2022 / I-130, I-485, I-765 / Submission to USCIS ● Jan 29, 2022 / I-765 / Biometrics, i.e. fingerprint and photo ● Feb 25, 2022 / I-485 / Biometrics, i.e. fingerprint and photo ● Feb 28, 2022 / I-765 / Decision (Approval or Denial) ● Apr 29, 2023 / I-485 / Request for Evidence(RFE) from USCIS ● May 01, 2023 / I-130 / Decision (Approval or Denial) ● May 27, 2023 / I-485 / Decision (Approval)

Hundreds of Thousands Have Lost Medicaid Coverage Since Pandemic Protections Expired (New York Times)
Link to article: https://web.archive.org/web/20230527084332/https://www.nytimes.com/2023/05/26/us/politics/medicaid-coverage-pandemic-loss.html
Excerpts:

Hundreds of thousands of low-income Americans have lost Medicaid coverage in recent weeks as part of a sprawling unwinding of a pandemic-era policy that prohibited states from removing people from the program.
Early data shows that many people lost coverage for procedural reasons, such as when Medicaid recipients did not return paperwork to verify their eligibility or could not be located. The large number of terminations on procedural grounds suggests that many people may be losing their coverage even though they are still qualified for it. Many of those who have been dropped have been children.

...

In Arkansas, more than 1.1 million people — over a third of the state’s residents — were on Medicaid at the end of March. In April, the first month that states could begin removing people from the program, about 73,000 people lost coverage, including about 27,000 children 17 and under.
Among those who were dropped was Melissa Buford, a diabetic with high blood pressure who makes about $35,000 a year at a health clinic in eastern Arkansas helping families find affordable health insurance. Her two adult sons also lost their coverage.
Like more than 5,000 others in the state, Ms. Buford, 51, was no longer eligible for Medicaid because her income had gone up. A notice she received informing her that she did not qualify made her so upset that she threw it in a trash can.
But a majority of those who lost coverage in Arkansas were dropped for procedural reasons.

...

Gov. Sarah Huckabee Sanders of Arkansas, a Republican, has framed the unwinding as a necessary process that will save money and allow Medicaid to function within its intended scope.
“We’re simply removing ineligible participants from the program to reserve resources for those who need them and follow the law,” Ms. Sanders wrote in an opinion essay in The Wall Street Journal this month. She added that “some Democrats and activist reporters oppose Arkansas’s actions because they want to keep people dependent on the government.”

...

What has played out in Arkansas so far offers evidence of the widespread disruption that the unwinding process is likely to cause in households across the country in the coming months, forcing Americans to find new insurance or figure out how to regain Medicaid coverage that they lost for procedural reasons. The federal government has projected that about 15 million people will lose coverage, including nearly seven million people who are expected to be dropped despite still being eligible.
Among the biggest looming questions is how the process will affect children. In Florida, for instance, a boy in remission from leukemia and in need of a biopsy recently lost his coverage.
Researchers at the Georgetown University Center for Children and Families estimated before the unwinding that more than half of children in the United States were covered by Medicaid or CHIP. Many children who lose coverage will be dropped for procedural reasons even though they are still eligible, said Joan Alker, the center’s executive director.
“Those kids have nowhere else to turn for coverage,” she said. “Medicaid is the single largest insurer for children. This is hugely consequential for them.”
In Arkansas, many of the children who lost Medicaid were “the poorest of the poor,” said Loretta Alexander, the health policy director for Arkansas Advocates for Children and Families. She added that losing coverage would be especially harmful for young children who need regular developmental checkups early in life.

...

Other states have also removed a large number of Medicaid recipients for procedural reasons. In Indiana, nearly 90 percent of the roughly 53,000 people who lost Medicaid in the first month of the state’s unwinding were booted on those grounds. In Florida, where nearly 250,000 people lost Medicaid coverage, procedural reasons were to blame for a vast majority.

...

Debra Miller, 54, of Bullhead City, Ariz., lost Medicaid coverage in April after her roughly $25,000 annual salary as a Burger King cook left her ineligible. Ms. Miller, a single mother with diabetes and hypothyroidism, worked with an insurance counselor at North Country HealthCare, a network of federally funded health clinics, to enroll in a marketplace plan with a roughly $70 monthly premium.
“It’s a struggle because it’s a new bill that I haven’t had before,” she said. Her new plan, she added, does not include vision insurance, leaving her worried about paying for eye appointments she needs as a diabetic.
Ms. Buford said that for some people in Arkansas, marketplace coverage would be too expensive.
“You have a car, mortgage, kids, food,” she said. “You really don’t have that much left to pay that much for health insurance.”
Ms. Buford said that her job helping others find health insurance in underserved areas was a calling inspired by watching her grandmother struggle to afford her medications and rely on food pantries. Ms. Buford went to a community college near her hometown so she could take care of her sick father, who passed away in his 40s. “I love my job because I’m able to help people,” she said.
Now that she has lost her Medicaid coverage, Ms. Buford said she hoped to find an affordable marketplace plan in the near future. The family plan offered by the clinic where she works is too costly, she said.
“I’m grateful for what I have because someone else doesn’t have what I have,” Ms. Buford said. “I just wish I could have kept my Medicaid.”

'Enormous Policy Failure': States Throw Hundreds of Thousands—Including Many Children—Off Medicaid (Common Dreams)
Link to article: https://www.commondreams.org/news/states-hundreds-of-thousands-medicaid
Article:

With a green light from the federal government, states across the U.S. have thrown hundreds of thousands of low-income people off Medicaid in recent weeks—and many have lost coverage because they failed to navigate bureaucratic mazes, not because they were no longer eligible.
More than a dozen states, including Florida and other Republican-led states that have refused to expand Medicaid under the Affordable Care Act, have begun removing people from Medicaid as part of the "unwinding" of a pandemic-era federal policy that temporarily barred governments from kicking people off the program.
In a bipartisan deal late last year, Congress agreed to cut off the pandemic protections, giving states 12 months to redetermine who is eligible for the healthcare program that covers tens of millions of Americans.
The process differs in each state, but Medicaid enrollees are typically required to complete paperwork verifying their income, address, disability status, and other factors used to determine eligibility for the program.
While some states have undertaken public outreach campaigns to ensure Medicaid recipients understand what they need to do to continue receiving benefits, most enrollees across the country "were not aware that states are now permitted to resume disenrolling people from the Medicaid program," according to new survey data from the Kaiser Family Foundation (KFF).
As a result, The New York Times reported Friday, "many people lost coverage for procedural reasons, such as when Medicaid recipients did not return paperwork to verify their eligibility or could not be located."
"The large number of terminations on procedural grounds suggests that many people may be losing their coverage even though they are still qualified for it," the newspaper added. "Many of those who have been dropped have been children."
Early data released by the state of Florida, for example, shows that more than 205,000 people in the state lost coverage for procedural reasons after April eligibility checks.
"We knew this was coming. But we still treat these burdens like they're unavoidable natural disasters," said Pamela Herd, a professor of public policy at Georgetown University. "We need to be much more explicit about these failures because we're making a choice to allow this."
Joan Alker, executive director of the Georgetown Center for Children and Families, said she is "very worried about Florida."
"We've heard the call center's overwhelmed, the notices are very confusing in Florida—they're very hard to understand," said Alker.
In a recent letter to Republican Gov. Ron DeSantis, a 2024 presidential candidate, more than 50 advocacy groups demanded a Medicaid redetermination pause, pointing to "reports of Floridians being disenrolled from Medicaid without having received notice" from the state's Department of Children and Families (DCF).
"One of these individuals is a 7-year-old boy in remission from Leukemia who is now unable to access follow-up—and potentially lifesaving—treatments," the groups wrote. "Families with children have been erroneously terminated, and parents are having trouble reaching the DCF call center for help with this process. Additionally, unclear notices and lack of information on how to appeal contribute to more confusion."
"We are deeply concerned about those with serious, acute, and chronic conditions who will continue to lose access to their lifesaving treatments during this time, along with people who risk substantial medical debt, or even bankruptcy, as a result of coverage loss," the groups added.
What if instead we just gave everyone health insurance coverage??!! https://t.co/hSOQKYU7JY — Ady Barkan (@Ady Barkan) 1685130002
The Times highlighted the situation in Arkansas, which is led by Republican Gov. Sarah Huckabee Sanders—a supporter of Medicaid work requirements and other attacks on the program. (Work requirements were briefly tried in Arkansas in 2018 and 2019, with disastrous consequences.)
"In Arkansas, more than 1.1 million people—over a third of the state's residents—were on Medicaid at the end of March [2023]," the Times noted Friday. "In April, the first month that states could begin removing people from the program, about 73,000 people lost coverage, including about 27,000 children 17 and under."
An Arkansas law requires the state to complete its Medicaid eligibility reviews in six months instead of 12.
In a Wall Street Journalop-ed earlier this month, Sanders wrote that her state is booting people from Medicaid at "the fastest pace in the nation" and claimed those being removed are "ineligible participants"—ignoring evidence that many being stripped of coverage were technically still eligible.
The U.S. Health and Human Services Department has estimated that upwards of 15 million people nationwide could lose Medicaid coverage during the redetermination process.
"This is such an enormous policy failure—profoundly cruel and will contribute to furthering inequities," Dr. Cecília Tomori, a public health scholar at Johns Hopkins University, wrote Friday.
While some who lose Medicaid will be able to access insurance through an employer or the Affordable Care Act marketplaces, KFF found that more than four in ten people with Medicaid as their only source of healthcare "say they wouldn't know where to look for other coverage or would be uninsured" if they were removed from the program.
"This is about to happen to a lot of people," warned Larry Levitt, KFF's executive vice president for health policy.
The Times pointed to the case of 54-year-old Arizona resident Debra Miller, who "lost Medicaid coverage in April after her roughly $25,000 annual salary as a Burger King cook left her ineligible."
"Ms. Miller, a single mother with diabetes and hypothyroidism, worked with an insurance counselor at North Country HealthCare, a network of federally funded health clinics, to enroll in a marketplace plan with a roughly $70 monthly premium," the Times reported.
Miller told the newspaper that the new plan is a "struggle" both because of the new monthly payment and because it doesn't include the vision coverage she needs and now may not be able to afford.
The Congressional Budget Office estimated earlier this week that states' Medicaid eligibility checks will likely leave 6.2 million people without any insurance at all.
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First Previous
Memory Transcription Subject: Tresn, Arxur Defector
Date [Standard Human Reckoning]: 2136-10-22
The universe always had a way to surprise me. When I decided to crash-land on Earth I didn't expect to have a bullet zipping past my head, courtesy of a venlil. Yet, here I recited a prayer of gratitude after surviving another near-death experience. As my luck would have it, the venlil had an aim as shoddy as expected from federation species. They never had good precision when it came to ballistics.
Elangkasa visited after me and tried to explain the situation. The venlils were Vani's kin. Overwhelmed with concern for him, they had abandoned caution and visited Earth without a second thought. Murder attempt aside, I had to commend them for their unwavering loyalty to their family members.
After the incident, Johan ushered the venlils towards the outskirts of the Capital, to an apartment where the gojid refugees settled now.
The shooting made me wary of going out, so I chose to remain inside in the habitation unit until the time for breaking the fast approached, immersing myself instead in the human planetary network. Despite Vani's caution, I created an account on one of their "social media" sites. As social creatures, humans use their vast network for the simplest of interactions, to talk with one another and share images and videos from their everyday life.
Right now, pictures of devastation overflowed the social media. But amidst the bleakness of their situation, I saw resilience too. There are photos of humans extending helping hands, uniting in the face of adversity. They even donated their life essence, blood, to strangers. Far from showing weakness, I think this revealed humans' true strength.
Reflecting on it, I began to view my condition not as an aberration or flaw, but as a part of our species' long evolutionary journey. Even a two-hundred-year subjugation by Betterment failed to suppress this empathy.
Intrigued, I ventured into the world of human interaction online, typing "arxur" into the social media's search bar. Images of my kin were plentiful, with many showcasing their participation in the ongoing disaster relief efforts.
One photograph, in particular, commanded my attention. The candid image depicted an arxur amid a rescue operation. She lifted heavy debris while a group of humans in distinctive uniforms pulled another victim from the wreckage. A blanket of dust and debris obscured the victim and their fate was unknown.
The comments beneath it showed a complex sentiment, a mix of fear, gratitude, and prejudice.
One user wrote, "I guess some of them are pretty okay.".
Yet skepticism was quick to follow. "Yeah, I don't know about that. My dad said he saw them eating a cat," came a response. I remembered a cat as one of the small predators that humans kept around. Even though cats are non-sapient, eating them feels wrong.
An interesting counter came next. "Humans used to eat cats too," someone pointed out.
The rebuttal, however, was unsettling. "Well, okay… but not while it's alive and screaming!"
I scrolled up again to see the photo and above it I saw a small image beside their name, "Jagomerah". When I tapped on it, the image enlarged, showing a creature with a likeness to an arxur except in vivid red. They had horn-like protrusions and some differences in surface detail. Remembering a conversation with Snop, I recalled her mentioning a subculture among humans who created humanized versions of their animals, sometimes even dressing up as their chosen creature. Could this human belong to such a group?
A button under their picture led me to a profile page. I found a short description of themselves under their name.
"He / Him, a dragon that fights fire."
One of the buttons available there would allow me to send a private message to him. An idea began to form in my mind but my instincts hesitated, considering the risk. On the other paw, you miss all the shots you don't take. Deciding to throw caution to the wind, I began composing a message.
"Greetings, I see that you're working with arxurs. What do you think about them?"
I sat back, waiting for an answer that didn't come. I went back to the main page of the social media and browsed through other posts. After several minutes, a sudden notification snapped me back.
"Hello, who is this?"
I pondered my response. Should I lie or just be truthful? After a moment, I chose honesty. "My name is Tresn. I'm an arxur." I typed out, my claws clicking against the screen.
"What? You should know better than to roleplay at times like this."
The skepticism stung. 'role-playing?' I wondered, unfamiliar with the term. What role do I play here? I opted for a more direct approach, recording a brief video. The camera focused on my face, the ambiguous backdrop helped me to avoid disclosing my current location.
"Hi, Jagomerah. It's me, Tresn." I sent the video off, hoping it would assuage their doubts.
The response was quicker this time. "Okay, that is either a very convincing virtual skin or you're telling the truth. I'm tempted to believe the other. But... can you tell me something arxurs know that other species don't."
My scales prickled at the request. Sending my face already felt like crossing a line. But they weren't asking for state secrets, were they? A flood of images and narratives from the human internet flashed through my mind.
"Your depiction of my people in fiction is incorrect. We don't have any additional appendages in our center of mass," I typed out.
Their response was rapid. "You... what? Whoa… okay… there's no way I can confirm that to the arxurs I work with. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt then."
Feeling somewhat validated, I tried to steer the conversation back. "So, what do you think about them?"
The screen blinked back words that incited a rare chuckle from my throat. "You're chatty and polite for an arxur. I mean… It would be nice if the ones I worked with were like you. But on the other hand… I'm having doubt again on whether or not you're an arxur."
Deciding to be transparent about my condition, I typed out my response, "I am what they call 'defective'."
The response was swift with an undertone of surprise, "You're calling yourself defective for being decent? That sounds like an arxur speak."
The affirmation in his response made me hope a bit. "So you believe me now?" I asked.
"Not until I see you in person, but for the time being… sure… let's just go along," came the guarded response. "Where are you now, Tresn? Jakarta? Singapore? Kuala Lumpur?"
I was cautious, "Neither of the three, and I can't divulge more details. However, I can tell you I will be heading to Jakarta."
"Okay, I need to get ready for work. I'll humor you Tresn, if you're somewhere near Purwakarta, you can message me."
A wave of anticipation washed over me as I contemplated the possibilities. I put the name of this city into my memory.
The arrival of Vani interrupted my thoughts. I looked at the top right of the pad where it said the current time was the fifteenth hour. I was still acclimatizing to the peculiarities of human timekeeping, where the day begins in the middle of the night, in stark contrast to my species who starts the day at sunset.
Vani, accompanied by his gojid colleague, visited my quarters right after they arrived back from the capital.
"Tresn," Vani began. He looked down, avoiding my stare, a normal gesture for ordinary venlils, but out of character for him. "I need to apologize for my mother's actions."
I managed to produce a small, understanding smile. "I suppose the fault lies on me as well," I admitted, the memory of the mishap causing a slight tinge of discomfort. "In my disorientation, I lost track of our designated habitation unit."
"She might have killed you," he said. "We are fortunate that my mother has little experience handling the pistol, so her aim was off."
"Let's consider that an incident from the past," I reassured him. "How are your folks doing?"
"They promised to keep your existence concealed," Vani responded. The relief I felt from the revelation comforted me. "That's about the most we could hope for, given the circumstances. Most venlils are uneasy around arxurs."
"Fair enough," I conceded, appreciating their effort to tolerate my presence despite their instincts.
Shifting gears, Vani seemed eager to move onto a more pleasant topic. "On a brighter note, I believe your legs are healing quite well."
The venlil medic stepped closer, his attention drawn towards my bandaged stumps. With a steady hand and an almost delicate precision, he unwrapped the sterile white cloth, revealing my healing wounds, a collage of fading reds and emerging pinkish scars.
I winced, "Is it strange that I feel my feet itching? Even though they're no longer there?" I asked, bemused by the curious phantom sensations.
"That's a phenomenon known as Phantom Limb Syndrome," Bolad chimed in. "It's a typical neurological response after an amputation."
My human roommates arrived soon after. The two siblings came, with the brother holding two mechanical feet that would replace my lost appendages.
"I heard the good news. Your legs, have they healed?" Snop the sister asked.
"They have," Vani affirmed. "However, I believe it will be some time before he can bear weight on them."
A shadow of disappointment crossed Snop's features, dampening her earlier enthusiasm. "Aww."
Vani was quick to interject. "However, we can fit him with the prosthetic limbs you have been working on."
"Yasss," she exclaimed, revealing a full set of blunt teeth, a reminder of the age-old reason humans softened their food.
"Alright, first you'll need padding," she informed me. Her hands reached for a thick elastic fabric she'd brought along. She maneuvered the fabric around my leg stumps and her brother put on prosthetic limbs. As he attached them, they felt snug and comfortable against my padded stumps.
"I spent some time researching on your Internet about people who have lost body parts," I confessed.
At this, Snop leveled a cautious look my way, her lips pursed, perhaps in anxiety. "You haven't been delving into... stories again… have you?"
A surprised expression crossed my face. "Wait, there's fiction about that?"
"Nevermind," she corrected, looking somewhat relieved. "Just ignore what I said. What did you learn from your research?"
"Some humans opt for permanent modifications or replacements within their bodies," I ventured, fumbling with the foreign terminology. "I believe the term you use is 'saiborx'?"
"You mean cyborgs?" she clarified. "Indeed, that might be on the table for you much later. However, designing and implanting permanent mechanical limbs is a complex process. There are bound to be difficulties along the way."
"You need several rounds of surgeries." Vani chimed in, "In addition, we need to understand and integrate with your neural system first."
"Ah, I see. That makes sense," I nodded. "So, how would I control these prostheses?"
"First thing first, you have a neural implant don't you?" Cynthio asked. "Because the prostheses are programmed to interface with them.
A moment of understanding washed over me. "Oh, so I connect to the prostheses ?"
"Do you have a visual overlay system in your implants?" Cynthio queried.
"Yes, of course. It's a standard feature," I replied.
Cynthio guided me through the process of syncing with the prosthetic limbs' interface. After a few frustrating minutes of trial and error, I found the correct setting and established a connection with my new feet.
"Alright, this next part may require patience and practice," Cynthio warned, his eyes evaluating the advanced prostheses adorning my stumps. "Think of these as a natural extension of your body—as if you've just gained a new pair of feet." His gaze shifted back to me, a touch of encouragement in his voice.
With a concentrated effort, I focused all my mental energies on the prosthetic limbs, coaxing them to move, to respond to my command. Nothing happened. The prostheses remained stationary, defying my silent will.
"Don't be disheartened," Cynthio reassured. "You can't expect immediate success. It takes time and practice. Keep at it, and I'm confident you'll get the hang of it."
Elangkasa perceived my steady recovery as a cue to inform their higher-ups. It appeared we would leave our makeshift camp.
For my last meal at the camp, the humans served me an experiment. They seemed intent on testing the limits of my digestive tract. A dish called "fried chicken steak" smothered in a sauce concocted from mushrooms. This curious species, found on Earth, exhibited a resemblance to plants, but its cellular composition bore a close semblance to animals.
I also learned that cooking, aside from enhancing the flavor of food, also aids in making it easier to process. Johan likened the act of cooking to "external digestion".
With the breaking of the fast finished, our journey commenced. Johan, Vani, and Bolad embarked in Johan's vehicle, which also served as a compact mobile home for him and his venlil mate. I found myself tied to the cargo area of a large truck, with Elangkasa, Snop, and Cynthio taking the helm in the front.
Johan and Vani's original mode of arrival had been a colossal ship. After some polite requests, helped by Elangkasa, Johan secured similar transportation to our next destination, the island of Java, where one of the affected cities lay in ruin. Our journey's first waypoint was a military base. There we were scheduled to confer with Lieutenant Ayu once more.
The constant hum of the truck engine lulled me to sleep. The chicken dish agreed with my system, and I had a sound slumber, with no discomfort or adverse reactions in my stomach waking me up.
"Tresn, hey... Tresn." I felt someone tapping my shoulder.
"Huh?" I opened my eyes and saw Elangkasa's face.
"We're here."
The sun of the Earth had yet to rise when we arrived. When I consulted on the map the force base was located beside the river on the outskirts of the city of Banjarmasin.
The base served as a living testament to the organized resilience of humanity, a hub of concentrated effort and structured aid response in the wake of the devastating planetary bombardment. When our tires bit into the base's gravel entryway, a thrum of activity pulsed within its boundaries. The humans turned an ordinary establishment for their armed forces into a staging place for sending aid.
Groups of engineers and mechanics, their uniforms marked with oil and grime, were embroiled in diligent vehicle maintenance. The sound of metal clanging and the occasional hiss of welding formed a rhythmic backdrop to the life in the base.
Mobile platforms carrying large containers entered the premises. Logistics personnel oversaw these automated platforms, directing them toward a gigantic ship destined for Java. The towering sea-faring vessel was ready to go, its hull filled with supplies and aid bound for the bombarded island.
Our truck followed Johan's vehicle onto the large ship and stopped at a parking garage where a soldier already awaited us. After my human friends assisted me onto a wheelchair, the soldier guided us through the ship's labyrinthine passageways to a well-lit conference room where a familiar human woman waited for us inside.
"Lieutenant Ayu, the guests are here." Said the soldier.
"Thank you, Dewardana. You're dismissed,"
The soldier's hand snapped to his forehead in a practiced move, "Yes, ma'am." With that, he exited, leaving us in the company of Lieutenant Ayu.
"Good morning, folks," she greeted us, her tone exuding authority.
Rising to the occasion, I was the first to respond, "Good evening, Lieutenant." I said before the others echoed my sentiments.
"Before we go for Java. I need to discuss something with you, especially you, Tresn."
"Is it about my asylum application?" I asked.
Asylum in my language means "protection given to traitors by the enemy". But in human language, it has a kinder connotation.
"For the time being, the UNHCR was still deliberating. After reviewing your security clearance level your commands said that we can do whatever we want with you. You were fortunate to be at the bottom rung of your hierarchy."
"What would happen if Tresn's position is any higher," Johan asked.
"If I have any security clearance, they will force your armed forces to hand me. That, or coming to oversee that I am disposed of properly. Either way, that will be the end of me."
Not giving anyone the proper time to react, Lieutenant Ayu continued. "Onward to our next item of discussion."
Even here on earth, I found myself weaving a web of lies. I crashed into this planet near a refugee camp, and that was the extent of the truth that they'll put on the record. With Lieutenant Ayu's blessing, we doctored the official timeline of my journey on Earth. According to the revised narrative, the human transferred me to a military base post-crash right away. After a period of intensive scrutiny, they released me into the care of the civilian populace, ready to go to Java.
The concept of "civilians" was another revelation for me. Unlike my species, most humans are not obliged to spend a substantial portion of their lives serving in the armed forces. Even now, after the relentless attacks, humanity continues to gather its military force through volunteers.
Not long after our meeting concluded, the ship hummed to life. Its ground-effect engine lifted it several meters above the water, propelling us away from the dock. They had assigned me a cabin spacious enough to accommodate my wheelchair. The device, once alien and cumbersome, had become a natural extension of my body.
The monotony of the sea view left me yearning for some activity. Confined within the modest dimensions of my cabin, I turned my attention back to my prosthetic limb. Its detached form lay before me. After connecting to them I focused, striving to penetrate its complex mechanics. I tried again to demand it to make any semblance of a move.
I lost track of time as I persevered with the exercise, my singular focus on the lifeless prosthesis. Just when exhaustion threatened to claim me, I saw a subtle twitch in one of the prosthetic fingers. Hesitant, I commanded the finger to move again, desperate to confirm I hadn't hallucinated the twitch. To my joy, the finger obeyed, curling at my mental prompt.
Emboldened and ecstatic, I wheeled myself out of the cabin to the common room provided for us, my claw gripping the responsive prosthesis. "Snop! Cynthio!" I called out. "Look!"
Holding up the prosthesis, I focused and commanded a finger to move. Just as it had in my cabin, the digit bent.
"Awesome!" The siblings exclaimed in perfect synchrony, their faces lighting up with shared excitement.
"That's incredible," Snop gushed, leaning forward to get a closer look at the prosthetic limb. "You did it, you made it move!"
"Yes, I..." I began, my words tapering off as I once again flexed the artificial finger. Despite having witnessed it myself multiple times, the sight still fascinated me.
As the ship flew towards Java, it carried not just aid for the humans but hope for one lone arxur.
Next

I feel like a full-fledged Flexer now; I just got my first (and hopefully last) dog bite on this, my 4th block. I am retired with a decent pension, so I don't Flex to make a lot of money, rather, I do it to keep myself busy and get a little mad money on the side.
This is an interesting story, and I hope it helps others in a similar situation. This story comes from Hidalgo County, Texas.
I was about halfway through my block on Thursday when I was making a delivery to a rural area. It was a fairly large house, and you had to pull into the driveway to make the delivery because of the distance from the main road.
The gate to the estate was open, so I pulled right in. There was no sign of dogs, so I got out, scanned the package, and was going to drop it off at the front door. About this time a lady exits the side of the structure and lets out a pack of 4-5 dogs with her that start running towards me. I figured since the owner was there, I had nothing to fear and was about to have her sign for the package and be on my way. As I approached her, one of her dogs snuck up behind me and bit me on my lower thigh. It felt just like being jabbed with a needle.
Halfway in shock about what had just happened, the lady told me to just leave the package on the walkway to the front door and then vanished with the dogs; no apology, nothing. I should have said something or at least asked if her dog was vaccinated, but I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. I got back into my vehicle and lifted my pants leg and checked the bite and took a picture of the wound and another of the house. I didn't think to take a screenshot of the name and address either; well, the wound didn't look too bad, so I just slapped some hand sanitizer on it, manned up then went on to the next stop. I did report the incident in the app though.
Later, I was looking up dog bites on Google and they all said if you don't know the vaccination status of the animal, you should get the Rabies PEP shots. This got me a bit worried and the next day I called Amazon to ask if they would contact the owner on my behalf and find out the vaccination status. I knew I needed the address of the customer to tell Amazon where it happened, so I used the geolocation on the photo and a corresponding County Appraisal District map to get the address and the name of the owner of the house. Amazon took the incident report and contacted me by phone about 3 hours later. They offered to pay for my medical care but said finding the customer's contact information would take time. So, I went to the ER because I wasn't sure an urgent care center would have the rabies vaccine if I needed it. When I talked to the person at the desk in the ER, they said they were required to file a police report. This was until they found out it was in a small town and then they told me to file the report because it was in a small town and I might have to go in person (though they would treat me first if I wanted); the town was about half an hour away.
I held off on the treatment and I made a call to the city listed on the address. They told me it was a different jurisdiction and that the County Sheriff handled law enforcement issues for that area. So, I called and they sent out a deputy right to the ER location to take my report. He filled out the report and called it in and then he waited there while they sent out another deputy that was in the area of the customer to contact them and find out if the dog was vaccinated. He told me if it wasn't vaccinated they would get a citation. It took about an hour and a half of waiting, but finally, the deputy gave me the news that their vet confirmed the dog was all up-to-date on their shots. He also told me the owner said the dog bit me because she was pregnant and being protective. Well, this lady should have never let the dogs out in the first place!
Except for my small war wound from the Flex Jungle, it all turned out well... thank the Good Lord!
EVERYONE BE CAREFUL OUT THERE!

As Asian American and Pacific Islander heritage month draws to a close here in the United States, I wanted to share a collection of write-ups featuring the stories of Asians/Pacific Islanders who are currently missing or whose cases have not been resolved. This is an expansion of a piece I post annually and therefore may it sound similar. These are mostly my pieces as well as a few other cases that I have remembered reading about over the last year or two including some cases recommended by readers. Feel free to add other cases which have stuck with you down in the comment section. I hope to garner some exposure for these lesser known cases and links to sources can be found at the bottom or embedded.
Khoi Dang Vu was a deaf American man who went missing from his family’s home in 2007 in Vancouver, Washington. He left on a rainy night without his coat, bike, or any belongings. His case is now considered a homicide and no trace of him has ever been found. True Crime Bullsh*t, an investigative podcast, has surmised that Vu may be a victim of serial killer Israel Keyes. The FBI considers the case a kidnapping. Khoi is of Vietnamese descent. My write up here- https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/g89b2z/what_causes_someone_to_leave_their_home_in_the/
https://www.fbi.gov/wanted/kidnap/khoi-dang-vu
Slideshow made my Khoi's sister- www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IuTeb58vH0&t=0s
Wallace Guidroz went missing from Tacoma in 1983 when he was only two years old. His father took him to a park, went on a walk with a mysterious man, and then when he returned Wallace was gone. Wallace has never been seen again. He is of Korean and African American descent. https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/mdtktl/2_%C2%BD_year_old_wallace_guidroz_disappeared_while/
https://charleyproject.org/case/wallace-guidroz
Helen Doe is an unidentified decedent who died in a semi-truck crash in Kalama, Washington in 1991. Although she is believed to be Native American, Asian, Hispanic, and mixed heritage cannot be ruled out. Her story can be found here. A new facial reconstruction can be see here. https://unidentified-awareness.fandom.com/wiki/Helen_Doe https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/lnv1b9/extensive_write_up_on_the_bizarre_case_of_helen/
https://www.koin.com/news/special-reports/the-mystery-of-helen-doe-kalama-crash-1991/
Grays Harbor Jane Doe was found in 1984 off of a logging road in Southern Washington state. She was middle aged and believed to be of Asian descent. You can read about her here. https://unidentified-awareness.fandom.com/wiki/Grays_Harbor_County_Jane_Doe
In 1963 the body of an unidentified man was found floating in the Spokane River in Spokane, Washington. The man had most likely drowned. He is believed to be of Asian descent but white and mixed descent could not be ruled out. His story, as well as the stories of 16 other unknown persons from Spokane can be found here. https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/liqj98/extensive_write_up_on_17_of_spokane_countys/
https://www.doenetwork.org/cases/1670umwa.html
Gary Ridgway aka the Green River Killer terrorized the Pacific Northwest for decades. What many people do not know is that the Green River task force is still in operation. Ridgway confessed to 71 murders, but only around 49 bodies have been found meaning there are more victims waiting to be discovered or reported missing. Two of Gary Ridgway’s known victims were of Asian American or Pacific Islander backgrounds. Marie Malvar, who was of Filipino descent, and Kimi Kai Pitsor who was native Hawaiian, but there may be more. To read about the stories of these young girls as well as other victims of Ridgway you can start here. https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/gpbcll/what_everyone_has_wrong_about_ridgway_extensive/
https://kingcounty.gov/depts/sheriff/about-us/enforcement/investigations/green-river.aspx
Diane Nguyen Robbins was only 13 in 1985 when she was last seen. She disappeared with her 21 year old friend, Molly Purdin, who was later found murdered. Both Diane and her friend were from Kennewick, Washington but Molly’s was found in northern King County. Gary Ridgway is a suspect in both cases. Diane is of Vietnamese and white descent. https://charleyproject.org/case/diane-nguyen-robbins
Edward Ryon Makuahanai Aikau, usually known as Eddie Aikau, a famous lifeguard and surfer, was credited with saving over 500 people at Waimea bay on Oahu’s north shore during his tenure as lifeguard. In fact not one person was reported drowned during Eddie’s shifts at the beach. In 1978, 31 year old Aikau had decided to join the Polynesia Voyaging society, a group who planned to travel from Hawaii to Tahiti using only outrigger canoes. Shortly into their journey one canoe sprung a leak and eventually capsized 12 miles south of Molokai. Eddie paddled on his surfboard towards Lanai in a valiant effort to summon help, but soon disappeared. The US Coast Guard were able to save all the passengers and a huge search was launched but Eddie was never found and is presumed drowned. Eddie Aikau is a household name in Hawaii and in the surfing community. Competitions bearing his name and t-shirts, bumper stickers, and other items inscribed with “Eddie would go” are a constant reminder of his legacy and memory. Eddie was of Native Hawaiian and Caucasian, mostly Portuguese, descent. His story can be found here. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eddie_Aikau
Rachel Mellon, sometimes reported as Rachel Mellon Skemp or Rachel Mellon Kemp was a 13 year old who disappeared from her Illinois home when she was home sick one day in 1996. Her step-father is the primary suspect in her disappearance and diary entries from several months earlier reported that her step dad had touched her inappropriately and tried to kiss her. Rachel is of Asian descent but her family reports she is often mistaken for Greek or Italian. Her case can be found here. https://charleyproject.org/case/rachel-marie-mellon
Hang Lee, a 17 year old girl, went missing from St Paul Minnesota on January 12th 1993. Hang was last seen with a friend Kia “Nikki” Lee. She left home with this friend between 6:00 and 7:00 p.m. but when Nikki returned home an hour later, Hang was not with her. Nikki initially told authorities Hang had left with some unidentified young men. She later changed her story and said Hang had gone to a job interview with Nikki's own employer, Mark Steven Wallace, at Wallace's small painting and carpentry business on Iroquois Avenue. Wallace told Nikki that he was looking to hire another employee and she suggested her friend Hang as Hang was looking for a new job. Nikki thought that this request from Wallace was odd as he did not have enough work to hire another employee at that time. Nikki eventually told authorities that she and Hang went to Wallace's place of work and drove around with him in a white truck before switching and driving around in a tan Chevy Cavalier. Wallace dropped Nikki off and then left with Hang in the car. Wallace also told Nikki to not report what happened to the police.After a few interviews with the police Nikki retained an attorney and is no longer cooperating. Wallace denied involvement but also retained an attorney. Wallace is the prime suspect in the disappearance of Hang Lee. He has a record which includes rape, kidnapping, stalking, and drug possession. Hang Lee has never been located and her mother and 13 siblings are still looking for her.Hang is described as a sweet and naïve teenager who is only 17 and 1993. She was 5 ft tall and weighed 90 lb. She was last seen wearing a lightweight black leather jacket, a black t-shirt with "Skid Row" written on the back, black jeans or slacks, sneakers and several pieces of jewelry, including two silver bracelets. She is described as an Asian female with black hair and brown eyes. Her parents moved from Lao (sometimes spelled Laos in the US), and she is Hmong descent. She speaks both English and Hmong. She left behind her purse, a paycheck, and all of her other belongings.Full article here.
Deborah Palmer was only 7 years old in 1997 when she was last seen getting ready for school. Her mother said goodbye as Deborah left the home to walk a few blocks to her elementary school in Oak Harbor, Washington. When Deborah’s mother tried to drop off lunch a few hours later, she was shocked to learn that her daughter never arrived. Five days later, Deborah’s body was found on a beach a few miles away. She had been strangled but not sexually assaulted. Her case is cold and unsolved 25 years later. Deborah is of African American and Filipino descent. https://www.q13fox.com/washingtons-most-wanted/little-girl-doesnt-show-up-for-school-but-shows-up-days-later-dead-on-a-beach
In September of 2019, Tampa native Paulino Norberto Del Mundo Japor Jr. decided she wanted to go on a 10 vacation to Cozumel, Mexico but during a layover in Dallas she called her sister and asked for help getting a ticket back to Florida as she had changed her mind about going to Mexico. Her family said on the phone she sounded “desperate” and “incoherent.” She never boarded a flight home or boarded her plane to Mexico. Her last known whereabouts were documented on security tapes from the Dallas airport. Her phone and bank account have not been used since that day and she was never seen again. Paulino is a transgender woman who went by the names Paula, Paulina, or Pauline. Although Paula had lived as a woman for years she had not medically transitioned and it appears she still used Paulino Norberto as her legal first and middle name. She is of Filipino descent and her family is still hoping for answers. https://charleyproject.org/case/paulino-norberto-del-mundo-japor-jr
In 1999, Xuan Cao, a 53-year-old man from China, was visiting the USA as part of a tour group. His tour group had just gotten to a hotel in North Bergen, NJ, when Xuan said he was going out to make a phone call. He disappeared and never came back. He left behind his passport and all of his luggage. It is not believed to be a voluntary disappearance.
In 1990, Tu Thi-Cam Tran, a student at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, vanished one night on her way back to her car from the University Center. Tu, who was of Vietnamese descent, was 24 years old at the time, and in her senior year at UMBC. She went missing in the small window of time between leaving her classroom and getting into her car. Here's a write-up on her case with some more information.
Ashok Kuman Narain was last seen in Eugene, Oregon in either 1987 or 1988 where he lived with his wife and young daughter after moving from Fiji several years earlier. In 1987 the dismembered body of a pregnant woman and the body of a toddler were found floating nearby in Washington and Oregon. 20 years later these bodies were identified as Raj Mati Narain and Kamnee Koushal, the wife and daughter of Ashok, after Raj’s brother read a story about the unidentified bodies online. He had not heard from his sister since 1987 when Raj’s letters back to her family in Fiji mysteriously stopped. Ashok is wanted for questioning but his whereabouts are unknown. Authorities are looking for a white 1980 Toyota Tercel with the Oregon license plate number KUV762, which disappeared with Ashok and may be connected to Raj and Kamnee's homicides. Both Oregon and Washington authorities are investigating his disappearance.Most sources say the family is of Indo Fijian descent, however, the Charley project now reports that Ashok is of native Fijian descent. You can read their tragic story here. https://charleyproject.org/case/ashok-kumar-narain
Queens Jane Doe was an unidentified woman who fell to her death accidentally after falling off an elevated train platform in Queens, New York in January, 2000. She is described as an 18 to 28 year old Asian or Pacific Islander woman who is 5 ft 1 in in height and weighed 113 lb. She had brown eyes and 7” straight dark brown hair. She was wearing a dark brown Albert Duke brand leather jacket, a blue and white plaid button-up shirt, a dark colored bra, blue jeans, white underwear, and black Euro sneakers or boots. She was also wearing earrings. Her identity is still a mystery to this day. You can find more information here, https://unidentified-awareness.fandom.com/wiki/Queens_Jane_Doe_(January_2000)) but please be careful as post-mortem photos are available of this woman.
In 2011, Mansoor Riaz, a Microsoft software engineer, vanished one night from his Bellevue, Washington apartment. Riaz is of Pakistani descent. His story can be found here.
https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/msgolf/a_software_developer_at_mircosoft_vanished_from/
https://charleyproject.org/case/mansoor-riaz
Yuan Xia Wang went missing near Washington DC when she was headed for a doctor’s appointment. Yuan had been found at Dulles Airport when a man who was smuggling people into the country was detained and Yuan was one of his charges. Police became suspicious when Yuan who was supposedly a Thai citizen could not speak or understand Thai, but rather spoke Mandarin. Yuan told authorities her parents in Fuzhou, China had paid money for this man to get her into the country using a Thai passport. She was supposed to live with an aunt in the US, but she didn't know where or who this person was so she was placed in foster care for the time being. Other reports say that her smuggler was supposed to take her to a hotel in Alexandria, Virginia. Her foster parents hired a Mandarin speaking babysitter to stay with her until she was enrolled in at a local middle school. Yuan went missing only a few weeks later while on the way to a doctor's appointment. She reportedly got off the school bus and was supposed to take a cab to the doctors but vanished by the time the cab arrived. Although Yuan said she was 12, she was 5’ 6” in height and most people thought she was probably 14-15 at the time of her disappearance. She is of Chinese descent and speaks Mandarin. Police believe she either ran away, was kidnapped by her family members or smugglers, or met with foul play. She may have been seen in Kansas city in 2008. Sadly her dentals, fingerprints, and DNA and not available. https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/jbtixc/yuan_xia_wangmissing_from_lincolnia_virginia/
https://charleyproject.org/case/yuan-xia-wang
Su Cha Kim a 54 year old shop owner from Twin Falls, Idaho Was found murdered in her massage parlor in 1997. Her case is unsolved and cold. Unfortunately, little information is available online. https://www.reddit.com/UnresolvedMysteries/comments/njhce2/the_1997_murder_of_su_cha_kim_in_twin_falls_id/
https://magicvalley.com/news/local/twin-falls-police-hope-passing-years-will-help-solve-cold-cases/article_7c83fca5-9dfd-5fd6-915f-063719bc0117.html
Faloma Luhk, 10, and Maleina Luhk, 9, disappeared while waiting for their school bus in As Teo, Saipan, Northern Mariana Islands, on May 25th, 2011. The girls were last seen sitting on a concrete slab at 6:10 a.m. across the road from their bus stop, only 300 feet from the home they shared with their grandparents. The bus arrived and left without them at 6:30 am but the girls were not reported missing until they didn’t come home after school that day. The 12 mile long island of Saipan was searched thoroughly by friends, family, locals, and the FBI but no trace of the girls or their things were ever found and their disappearance remains one of the most well known mysteries from the Northern Mariana Islands. Both girls are described as Pacific Islander females with brown hair and brown eyes. In 2011, Faloma had bronze colored highlights in her bangs, and Maleina had a large birthmark on her left cheek. She is reported as small and short for her age. A distant family member by marriage, who was later arrested for domestic violence, is the prime suspect in the case. He has never been named publicly. https://www.saipantribune.com/index.php/disappearance-of-luhk-sisters-marks-10-years/
https://www.guampdn.com/news/local/10-years-later-fbi-still-looking-for-luhk-sisters-who-went-missing-from-saipan-bus/article_f22e2472-cc38-50ac-a187-2ad5f3795155.html
Dong Chull Jung disappeared within minutes in Lakewood, Washington. The 78 year old was residing at the Golden Lion Motel on Tacoma Way in Lakewood, Washington. The establishment has long been a hotbed of criminal activity and violence since at least the 1990s. On average the police responded to incidents at the 24-room hotel over 100 times per year. November 22nd 2003 was one of those times. On that day witnesses called the police after hearing a “disturbance” in Dong’s room. When the authorities arrived, they found a giant pool of blood on the floor as well as Dong’s prescription eyeglasses, but Dong was nowhere to be found. According to the News Tribune, a paper out of Tacoma, one week before Dong’s disappearance he was granted a temporary domestic violence protection order from a Paul C. Jung, who might be Dong’s adult son. In June of 2003, someone named Hae Sung Jung, got a restraining order against Dong. Hae might be the estranged wife of Dong, but this isn’t known for sure. There are vague reports that Dong was having “marital issues'' at the time of his disappearance. Very little information is available in the case. The Golden Lion Inn was finally torn down in 2017 but the fate of the elderly man who resided within remains a mystery. Dong is described as an Asian (Korean) male, with brown eyes and thinning gray hair. He is 5’6'' and weighs 135 lbs. Dong wears prescription eyeglasses but they were left behind when he vanished. If you have any information regarding the disappearance of Dong Jung please call Pierce County Crime Stoppers 253-591-5959. https://charleyproject.org/case/dong-chull-jung
Gordon Kaipo Kealoha, 59, disappeared along with his dog Mahina in 2011. They were last seen fishing near Honolulu where they lived on July 8; Gordon cherished Mahina and brought her almost everywhere he went. After his disappearance, Gordon's white minivan was found abandoned, and his dinghy was found in the water, floating away from his home. Gordon is 6'1 and 250 pounds, and he is of Native Hawaiian descent.
https://charleyproject.org/case/gordon-kaipo-kealoha
Amber Aiaz and Melissa Fu were mother and daughter who went missing In November, 2019 from Irvine, California. The story of their disappearance and possible kidnapping is complicated. I would suggest reading the story here or here if you are interested in the details but the basic story is this. Amber's husband, Cheng Zhang, reported his wife and stepdaughter missing to the police about a week after they were last seen. He said that a Chinese man and woman came to his door, put something on his face and he passed out. He reported that when he woke up he found blood and evidence of a struggle in the apartment. He also found a note telling him not to report his wife and daughter missing to the police for at least several days and continued to get notes over the next week. He did what the notes instructed for the next several days. When he finally did report his wife and stepdaughter missing, police were skeptical of his story to say the least. Several months later police reported that they had found nothing to indicate that Cheng’s story was untrue, including over 40 hours of interviews with him and 44 days of around the clock surveillance. In the past Amber had told acquaintances that she was a very wealthy woman who had millions of dollars to her name. While this was not true, authorities speculated that Amber may have been kidnapped for ransom only for her captors to find out that her story of riches was nothing more than a farce. Amber's money has not been touched in either her Chinese or American bank accounts. Both mother and daughter left behind their passports and there's no indication that either of them have entered China.
Amber is described as a 34-year-old Chinese woman who is 5'9 and weighed 180 lb. She has black hair and brown eyes. When last seen she was wearing a black shirt, a black vest, black fitted pants with white writing on them, and light colored shoes. She may use the name Mei Yi Wu or Meiyi W. Wu.
Melissa is described as a 12 or 13 year old Chinese female with black hair and brown eyes. She was 5 '11” in height and weighed about 200 lb. She was last seen wearing a black tracksuit.
Cheng described the unidentified abductors as a Chinese couple in their 40s. Both had average builds. The woman was reported to be about 5’8” and had her black hair tied back in a bun. The man was of average build about 190 lb. and 5 '10”. He had short black hair. The couple may have been driving a black Cadillac and they may have been seen near the apartment complex that day by other neighbors.
Destiny Dee Sanith was last seen by her family on March 3rd, 2022 in Williamstown New Jersey. At about 2:30 in the afternoon on March 3rd, she asked her mom if she could borrow the car to go visit a friend in South Philadelphia. When Destiny did not return in the evening her mother learned that she never made it to her friend's house that day. New Jersey police had contact with Destiny at about 5:20 a.m. on March 4th In Folsom New Jersey. Destiny and her car were near a strip mall at the time. What exactly happened is not clear but police reported they helped Destiny move her car into a parking spot and then gave her a ride to a Wawa convenience store about a mile up the road. Destiny's family has reported that they have surveillance video of Destiny entering and then later leaving the Wawa store after purchasing a drink. At about 9:00 a.m. she was seen leaving the store with a drink crossing the road, turning into another convenience store and then going behind the building and out of view. This is the last known sighting and location of Destiny Sanith. On March 5th when Destiny had still not returned home she was reported missing to the police and her family learned about her interaction with the police on the morning of March 4th. Destiny has not been seen or heard from since.
Destiny is described as an Asian female 27 years old, who is 5'6 and height and weighs about 160 lb. She reportedly has short wavy brown hair and brown eyes. She was last seen wearing black sweatpants, a black Nike sweatshirt, a backpack, white and red Air Jordan sneakers, wearing earrings and carrying a coffee. She has a tattoo of the Virgo symbol on her right hand. Her nickname is Dara. Her family has set up a GoFundMe to help find Destiny and hire a private investigator. Full article here.
Myong Keun Noah, who went by the nickname Mike, was seen by his family at around 7:00 p.m. on May 1st, 2007 in San Bruno, CA. Mike owned a private car company called E Limousine Services that he ran out of his home. That evening Mike told his son that he had to leave to pick up a 7:30 p.m fare. He did not tell his son where he was picking up the fare. Mike's wife was at an evening class at the time. Neither he or his black Lincoln town car was ever seen again. His car was new and didn't have permanent license plates, but had the transportation carrier permit number TCP 18525 printed on the back bumper. It had a transponder that registers when it enters San Francisco International Airport, but the transponder did not register a trip to the airport that evening. A search of parking areas at both the San Francisco Airport and the Oakland Airport did not locate Mike or his car. Mike's bank account and his phone have not been used since May 1st, 2007. Mike had no history of running away or dropping out of sight, he had no reported mental health issues, no personal problems, and no enemies. Police report that they are baffled by his disappearance. Mike was a US Army veteran and a naturalized American citizen. He had one teenaged son with his current wife and two adult children from a previous marriage however, no one in Mike's family has heard from him since May 1st, 2007. Mike is described as an Asian male, 60 years old in 2007, with brown eyes and black and gray hair. He is 5 ft 8 in in height and weighs about 165 lbs. He was last seen wearing a black suit with a white shirt. He may spell his last name “Noh.” He is of Korean descent.
https://www.sfgate.com/bayarea/article/SAN-BRUNO-Wife-police-plead-for-help-finding-2559008.php
https://charleyproject.org/case/myoung-keun-noah
What happened to these people?

I’m 19M and I would like to know how I can get an ADHD check in California without my parents knowing. I still live with them, and I will be moving out soon to go to a University, but to be very honest I never feel like they help me with anything and make things worse instead.
For the past couple of years, I was having the speculation that I might have some level of ADHD. It started with TikTok videos, which I brushed off because they literally list things everyone goes through. But as I went deeper into TikTok, people began listing symptoms that I felt were a bit more distinguishing, such as picking skin or angry outbursts. Whenever I’m doing some hard homework, sometimes my mind just goes to something that makes me angry and then I get angry inside my room just because of that thought. And I’ve been picking my skin and rubbing it on my lips since I was a baby, and I could never stop.
I decided to take a couple of ADHD tests online, and for all of them they ended with a score around 4/6, which was listed as “ADHD likely.” Of course, I didn’t think of this as a diagnosis, as each test has stated only a medical professional can diagnose you.
I’ve brought it up with some of my friends, and some of them say that self-diagnoses is okay, but I don’t think so. I want to get tested by a medical professional, but I’m scared if I do it under my family’s healthcare my parents will see it, and then say a bunch of stupid shit.
I have Kaiser Permanente (it’s a healthcare plan), and a couple of months ago one of my friends who also has Kaiser (18NB) had to start taking birth control. It was a private appointment and she believed her parents would not see anything since she was 18, but then her mom in some way found out. After that, my friend told me that they were never trusting Kaiser again, and that I should be careful with Kaiser so I don’t have a problem like them.
So does anyone in California know any other way how I can get an ADHD check? I really don’t want to spend a lot of money, but it’s something that I really want to get done.