Fire With Fire- Part One

“Yeah? Call me barking Ishmael.” Mar snapped. Suddenly, she found herself ducking to avoid the book being thrown at her head. Scrambling away, her mind seemed to go into auto-pilot mode. Suddenly millions of scenes from books she had read ran through her head, millions of ways to get away. Taking the quickest route (the door to the garage, the out the door which someone had forgotten to close), she ducked around the hedge.

But, instead of taking a left, away from the house and down the street, Mar took a right, between two overgrown bushes, peeking at the house from behind, trying to ignore the winter chill that seeped through her bones. All the snow that they seemed to have gotten that year had accomplished the feat of melting the day after it had come. Someone was moving through the windows, making waving movements with their hands. Pick up a phone. Put it back down. Pick up a coat, put it on. Get keys, go out door, close door behind them. Seconds later, Mar heard the car pulling away. Fantastic.

She slowly counted to 13 before getting up, taking the porch door into the house, and traveling to her room. She put on tall leather boots (for she was out there in her socks), a military style coat that reached to her knees, and her ipod, sticking it in her back pocket. The attic was next. Retrieving a key from a small board in the floor that lifted up (hidden under the couch in the living room. She had to move the couch to get to it), she unlocked the rickety old door, rolling her eyes when the lamp didn't turn on. However, she already knew where everything in the room was. Mar went exactly to the things she needed, and stuck them into her boots (i.e. pencils, paper...). It all fit. Then she reached a large crate, and pulled from it...

“...international currency. Thank you tooth fairy.” Mar grinned as she stuffed the money from all around the world into her boots. Now, she hadn't the faintest clue how a quarter of it worked, but she could always guess.

Mar hurriedly walked into the cold street, just remembering to get gloves before she exited the house. Her curly brown hair blew out of her face, and she pursed her lips as she stopped just as she started walking down the long road to town. Did people still use bus tickets?

...she could get over that problem when she reached it.

This kind of reminded her of the stories she used to read online. About the character that always used to run away from home, and find some incredible adventure. Mar wondered if anything could happen to her. Probably not. Something weird was going on, and she was going to solve it.

Just Recently, everyone had started to act differently. Mar didn't quite know how to describe it. It wasn't weird like ride a tricycle through the middle of town in your birthday suit weird, but just...weird. Odd. Ab-normal. It was the kind of normal that...well, normal people wouldn't notice, but that people with quirks and imaginative insight on the world would. The slightly less-then-normal people. People like Mar. She tended to notice things like that. Sometimes she thought she was just imagining it, but this time it went too far. This time they were mean. Uptight, mean, and didn't like March's sense of humor.

And they were her parents.

And it wasn't just them. It was lots of people. Mostly everyone Mar knew. So where do confused Mar's go when they need answers?

They go on a trip.

And where do people in the small discreet town in the Hungarian Countryside go? Why West, of course!

And that was exactly what Mar did.

Oh course, when she was halfway to the village, she forgot something, sprinted back, grabbed a big (albeit light) stainless steel frying pan, stuck it in her boot as well, and then sprinted the rest of the way to town.

Well, her escape was certainly going well until it started raining. It came down in heavy sheets, making any roads that were still dirt mud. Mar hurried to the nearest cafe, her hair sticking to her face in the weird rain that didn't get the memo that it was Winter yet.

Mar slid into an empty booth. She honestly had no idea if she was still in Hungary or had moved on to Austria. Maybe she was on the border. How long had she been walking? No. She needed food. Food would be good. Mar pulled out a book from her boot, opening it to a random page in the middle. Skulduggery Pleasant: Playing With Fire. Her favorite book in the whole universe. That could last her til the end of the world. However, before she could get lost in it, someone walked up to her, clearing their throat.

“May we sit here?” They asked. Mar gathered some of the Hungarian. She looked up, and stopped her nod half-way.

Who was that person?

It was a he, at least. He was wearing a black fedora and a matching pinstripe suit, but his skin was waxy, and his eyes didn't seem to focus. He smiled. There was another person behind her, a girl a couple years older then her, dressed in black. Mar managed to finish her nod. They both sat down in the booth across from her, and she slid the book to the side, folding the page corner.

“Wonderful weather we're having hm?” The man asked, still smiling (and in Hungarian). Mar blinked at him.

“...really?” She asked, speaking in English. “It's pouring rain, and you say that?”

“I tried to tell him that, but he wouldn't listen.” The girl said, English too.

“I just refused to believe that a little rainstorm would stop us human beings.” He said, switching as well.

“Little?” The girl muttered sarcastically.

The man ignored her comment. “I see you're not speaking in Hungarian. In fact, you even have an American accent.”

“Well, I really don't know that much Hungarian. I was born in America. We just moved here.” Mar said. “To be close to my mom's grandparents. They're Hungarian.”

“And you didn't want to try?”

“Try what?”

“Speaking Hungarian.”

“I told you, I don't know much. I speak English, and a bit of French.”

The man had a thoughtful look on his face. “Peculiar.”

“You're the one who's peculiar.” Mar retorted. “The both of you. Who are you, anyway?”

“Magicians!” The first man said happily. March heard the girl kick him under the table.

“Oh, fantastic.” Mar muttered sarcastically. “That's brilliant. No, you nimrods, that's not the answer I was looking for.” She got up, zipping her coat.

“Where are you going?” the girl asked.

“Anywhere but here.” Mar replied.

“Oh.” The man stopped Mar by grabbing her sleeve. She span around to glare at him. He calmly handed her a envelope. “There's a train to Calais, France. Take a ferry from Calais to get to Dover, then shorter train to London. Good luck.”

Mar took the envelope, her hand shaking slightly. “Ah...t-thanks.” Then she ran out, into the rainy weather. How did he know that she was running...?

It took her a moment to realize that she still hadn't eaten anything.

Back at the cafe, Valkyrie Cain looked out of the corner of her eye at Skulduggery Pleasant.

“Well.” He said. “That went well.”

“Are you sure you're a detective?”

“Quite.”

“ Then what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking that she's going to be a bit harder to get to.”

“What do you mean?”

“She has Hungarian blood. They're tricky ones.”

Valkyrie rolled her eyes. Reaching over the table, she picked up the book, showing it to Skulduggery. He raised an eyebrow. The young mage started to flip through it, making little comments. She looked up after a moment.

“Why didn't you ever knock Sanguine out?”

Skulduggery jumped. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

The two looked at each other, their eyebrows raised. Then they both seemed to get to the same conclusion. Sanguine. They both sprinted out the door after that, going to a familiar black car.

“The English.” Mar said to no one in particular. “Heck of a people. All the best books come from England, in my opinion. Course, there's the best from Ireland, so I guess it's mainly European. But then, there's always the Japanese...okay, I take that back now.” She ran a hand through her hair, standing in the sunny afternoon. Well, it was really only just a stray ray that had escaped through the clouds.

“No.” Someone snapped behind her. Mar turned around to an odd sight. A girl with long, silky black hair wearing purple was frowning at an officer. “What do you mean I'm an illegal alien? I came here on ferry!”

Mar walked up to them. “Can I help?” She asked.

“I just asked her for her passport and ID.” He said.

Mar nodded slowly. “I...see...” She made her eyes pop open, and she pointed wildly behind the officer. “W-What's that?”

“What's what?” He asked, turning around. Mar grabbed onto the girl's arm, pulling her away.

“Go.” She hissed. “Go go go.”

However, the girl turned back to the police officer over her shoulder, and called in a french accent, “Bye bye, police sir!”

Mar looked at her with a look of dis-belief on her face. “What?” She asked. “Do you want to wear handcuffs?”

“Well...” But Mar pulled her away before the girl could finish her sentence. The two ran through the crowd, pushing past anyone who got in their way. However, they came to the street, where cars were busily zooming by.

“Bus!” The girl yelled suddenly, and pushed Mar into a tall, trademark red london bus. Mar had no idea if they were actually called anything specific.

“Oi!” Mar called, waving her hands and trying to catch the attention of the people there. “Fire! There's a fire! Fire!”

The girl jumped onto the nearest empty seat, and just got out of range before the crowd of people pushed past, screaming and running out like headless chickens. Mar wrapped herself around a pole by the door, hanging on for dear life.

Then she burst into hysterical laughter. The kind that said 'I can't believe I'm doing this'.

“Do you know how to drive?” The other girl asked, guessing where this situation was going.

“Nope!”

“...do it.”

And that was how London suddenly found itself with two mad girls driving a bus through its streets. It certainly gave a clue to some certain people where they were.

If you even considered them people.