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A staredown soon ensued.
One that neither of us seemed to be willing to let up on.
But as far as staredowns went, this one was pretty evenly matched as neither of us really had the ability to ‘blink’, or at least as far as an outside observer could see.
My whole schtick was pretty obvious, the tinted lenses were more or less just doing the job for me, taking blinking out of the equation entirely and adding a solid plus ten to my intimidation base stats.
The shadowy cloaked figure’s approach was just downright bizarre though, as instead of eyes, there were just these two trapezoidal ‘lights’ that I assumed were supposed to be a placeholder for his actual eyes hidden somewhere underneath the shadowy void casted by his hood.
A void which was downright pitchblack, and completely impenetrable to the naked eye.
The figure gave off a surreal vibe as his rogue-like attire, coupled with the hood and the impenetrable shadow it casted, looked like it’d been ripped straight out of a Castles and Wyverns art book or a high-fantasy comic. The pitch-black void that obscured his face, and those two trapezoidal eyes that hovered and shifted with increasing scrutiny, just didn’t look real.
While most would leave it at that, I wasn’t one to leave a mystery hanging, I was a human with an entire visual sensor suite to work with for crying out loud. So before I even knew it, I reflexively went to activate my night-vision cameras. Only to see that the shadowy effect covering up his face was still there.
This led me to only one solid conclusion.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 140% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
A quick localized environmental scan made it clear to me that this was yet another one of the Nexus’ weird mana-fueled acts of tomfoolery.
“What say you, first years? Are you here for healing, or are you here for a visit? For as I have stated, the healing wing is not accepting visits at this point in time.” The hooded figure answered with this strange mix between a sing-song voice and an attempt at sounding gruff and gravely.
“We have an unfulfilled point of personal privilege that requires addressment.” Thacea stepped up to the plate, promptly placing herself by my side, then taking several steps forward. “Along with an unresolved conflict which requires immediate resolution by the party with which the aforementioned point of personal privilege was evoked but was halted due to unforeseen circumstances.” The princess began flexing her courtly-talk with the hooded figure, which clearly seemed to have some effect as he reached up a single gloved hand up to where his chin should be, only to have his fingers disappear as soon as they entered the dark shadowy effect currently covering up his face.
“And with whom is this unresolved matter incurred?” The figure inquired plainly, though the way he spoke shifted to something a bit more accommodating, perhaps even a little bit more hospitable than the gruffer tone he’d initially directed towards me.
“An apprentice, good sir. Apprentice Larial to be precise.” Thacea clarified politely, using what I could only describe as this flighty, chirpy, almost haughty tone of voice that was an exaggerated version of the cadence she used during our first interactions together.
“Hmm…” The hooded figure replied with a concerned grumble. “I was going to waive this particular matter, allowing the fair lady-” He paused, before making a point to stare at both me and Thalmin. “-and her two knights to pass on through, under the points of exceptional circumstances.” He continued in a less restrained, more flighty cadence. “However, you must excuse my inability to do so, my lady. My hands are currently tied via the powers that be, and I simply cannot grant your request.” The man began weaving a string of apologetics, giving Thacea a genuine and polite bow in response. “I must apologize for this discrepancy in expectant decorum.”
This didn’t make things any better for our circumstances though.
And it was clear Thacea understood this as she continued pressing forward.
“May I have your name and title, my good sir?” Thacea chirped lightly.
“Appointed-Deputy Magistrate Sir Arlan Ostoy, Senior Apprentice of the Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts. May I have the honor and the privilege of requesting your name, my fair lady?”
“Princess Thacea Dilani, of the Aetheronrealm, First Year and Scholastic Peer of the Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts.” Thacea replied with a full bow, and a half-curtsy of her own.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The shadowy figure bowed yet again.
“The pleasure is all mine, Sir-Magistrate.” Followed by yet another bow by Thacea.
There was some serious song and dance going on here, and one that I was observing with bated breath.
“Might I inquire further as to the particular reasoning behind this unfortunate and unseemly inability to respect the rights of expectant decorum?” Thacea quickly shot back.
“As I have alluded to, your highness, the powers that be prevent me from furthering the natural solution to your particular grievances. If this were any other instance in time, at any other location or place, I am sure this matter would have been resolved in an expedient and timely fashion. This situation, as you have alluded to yourself, results from a very particular set of unforeseen circumstances. Circumstances which currently dictate my actions in a manner which just so happens to be in conflict with your points of personal privilege, your highness.” The man’s posture, the way he stood, even the way he talked seemed very particular when addressing Thacea.
It was at that point that something changed. I didn’t know what, and I wasn’t sure why, but Thacea seemed to be shifting towards a tactical retreat, as she clacked her beak several times before addressing the both of us. “This is absolutely preposterous, I will need a moment to clear my mind but when I do return…” Thacea turned towards the magistrate/guard/apprentice person yet again. “There will be words exchanged.”
At Thacea’s prompting, we all left the room, but not before slamming the door behind us shut in a similar manner to Ilunor’s drama-filled exits.
We continued walking away from the medical wing at a steady pace, until another privacy screen was suddenly brought up.
ALERT: LOCALIZED SURGE OF MANA-RADIATION DETECTED, 275% ABOVE BACKGROUND RADIATION LEVELS
“I have a plan.” Thacea began. “And this is entirely relying on you two having the physical prowess to back up your military backgrounds.” She continued ominously.
“Oh princess, you sully the Havenbrock name if you believe my mercenary heritage is in any way, shape, or form a mere decorative mantlepiece.” Thalmin responded with a sarcastic, yet excitable tone.
“I assure you, Thacea, I think my training has almost every eventuality accounted for.” I added with an affirmative nod.
“So what’s the plan?” Thalmin barked out excitedly as we stopped right in the middle of this long, wide hallway connecting the main castle with the medical wing. Thacea was quick to answer this question by wordlessly gesturing to a lone door on the right side of the hallway.
Windows lining either side of the hallway made it clear that this entire structure was just an elevated bridge connecting the main castle to an entirely separate compound.
This made the presence of a door smack-dab in the middle of its length sort of bizarre.
Upon entering it though, we were treated to an open-air rooftop terrace with a few seats and benches. The whole outcropping gave us an unparalleled view of the roaring waterfall beneath the Academy, and a direct line of sight to the medical wing and its five distinct towers.
The princess continued walking silently as we reached the edge of the terrace’s balcony, overlooking the sheer cliff face at a height that more or less put me in mind of your typical open-air rooftops on your typical Acela Corridor skyscraper.
“I’ve observed that the medical wing seems to consist of a large tower-atrium, with several more towers connected to it via additional corridors. Similar to spokes on a wheel. As you can see from this vantage point, it seems as if most rooms have private balconies. If we cannot make our way to the apprentice via conventional channels, then I plan to reach her via more unconventional means.” Thacea turned towards me with a hardened look in her gaze. “Emma, is your… insect artifice ready for use?”
My eyes widened at that, as I nodded affirmatively. “Just for the record, we call it a drone.” I quickly corrected Thacea. “But, yes, I can designate individuals and targets for it to track down or follow. However, I can’t just have it poking around in every room since there’s no guarantee that the drone will be able to get a lock on them. There’s too many variables involved that would get in the way of the drone actually being able to zero in on a person’s face. From the beds facing the right way, to bandages possibly covering up her face, to-”
“I don’t want your artifice to observe every balcony and window, Emma. That will most certainly take too much time, and as you’ve stated, there’s no guarantee of actually identifying a face considering the multitudes of factors involved.” Thacea interjected. “What I plan to do is to return to the Deputy-Magistrate, and to attempt to reach a compromise that he will abide by. I plan for him to take us, or rather, your drone straight to the apprentice.”
“And how will you accomplish this?” Thalmin whined,his head tilted in curiosity.
“I will draft a letter, addressed directly to the apprentice, and request that it be taken straight to her room. This way, the Deputy-Magistrate will in a sense be able to accomplish his obligations to the Expectant Decorum, and in doing so he will lead your insec-, drone, straight to the apprentice’s room.”
I stared at Thacea with wide eyes, as her back and forths with the deputy-magistrate began taking on a completely different meaning in this new light.
“That way, we can find out exactly which room the apprentice is in.” I replied bluntly.
“Correct. However, from there, I cannot say my plans are in any way foolproof.” Thacea replied with a sullen coo.
“Well go on, princess, it sounds pretty good so far!” Thalmin urged.
“Ascertaining the apprentice’s room is only half of the stated objective. Actually getting there is another matter entirely. Because depending on where the apprentice is located… my idea for the latter half of this quest involves you two scaling your way towards her room.” The princess spoke with an immense level of trepidation. “On the exterior aspect of the castle, if that needed to be said.”
My heart skipped a beat as the princess laid out her plans. I looked across the absurdly spindly hallway-bridge that this little terrace was somehow attached to, and towards the five towers that made up the medical wing.
Thalmin did the same, although his face seemed to indicate that he was at the very least, considering the plan at least somewhat seriously.
“Alright.” I muttered out loud, instinctively trying to place a palm on my forehead, only for the glove to bonk straight off. “I have several ideas. First, we might be able to do this remotely. I’m thinking once we find out which room she’s in, we fly in a larger drone, one carrying with it a deployable holographic projector or some other two-way communications device so that we can talk to her remotely.” As soon as I spoke that idea out loud however, things started to fall apart. “But because of how thick the walls are, and considering the distance between the tower and our dorm, I might have to deploy repeaters in order to daisy-chain the connection all the way back to the dorms. I mean, we can’t just set up shop out here in the open after all. At which point we’d have a continuous chain of signal-repeater drones flying all across the Academy… which wouldn’t be ideal. No, scratch that, that won’t work.”
The pair stared at me with varying degrees of confusion, but seemed to have collectively decided to ignore the idea after I’d scrapped it.
“I say we just climb it!” Thalmin yelped out, but not before another idea hit me. One that could work, but that required me consulting Thacea first.
“I mean, we could, but…” I turned to face Thacea. “What’s the Academy’s policy on noise? Or rather, do you think we could get away with something really really loud, buzzing outside of the towers?”
Thacea once more stared at me with a look of just utter confusion, but shrugged it off and went with it anyways. “I would highly recommend against generating too much noise for this particular quest, Emma. It would most certainly garner a lot of unwanted attention.” Thacea spoke plain and simple.
I couldn’t help but to groan internally in frustration at that.
That makes flying over there a no-go… it would’ve made things so much easier though…
“Alright, well, that more or less places us in a very awkward situation with not a lot of options available to us, huh?” I thought to myself outloud again, as I craned my head over to an excitable Thalmin.
“I guess I have to climb on over.” I stated in no uncertain terms.
“Wait, I?!” Thalmin responded with a shocked and incredulous bark. “There’s no way I’m allowing you to climb over there yourself without assistance or-”
“Thalmin, there’s no need for you to climb on over with me.” I interjected. “This whole mission is hedged on me talking to the apprentice one-on-one. Remember the gardens? The apprentice wouldn’t allow you anywhere near us when we started talking. It’d be a waste of time, energy, and more importantly… a huge risk to your safety. I don’t want to risk your life needlessly, Thalmin. Not especially for a fight that isn’t your own.”
“Well you’re part of our peer group, so it’s my fight as well.” Thalmin replied with a dejected growl, but eventually relented. “But you’re right, Emma. I hate to admit it, but you’re right.”
I nodded at Thalmin’s slowly. “Besides, there’s an important job I need you to do.” I began scrounging through one of my pouches, and began palming for my spare in-ear earpieces. “I need you on lookout, to keep me aware of anything fishy developing in case I need to pull out.”
Thalmin looked over the side of the terrace, towards the raging waters beneath this side of the Academy as he let out a sigh. “That shouldn’t be too hard. Hardly anyone will be passing by this terrace, and beyond that there’s no way anyone can spot you from below, given there’s nothing but the cascading rapids below us. There’s no one that can spot you from here, save for perhaps the foxes in the library. We’re most certainly on the right side of the Academy for this quest, that’s for certain.” Thalmin pointed at the library in the far distance.
“Oh, I’m not too worried about anyone seeing me. I’m more concerned about someone compromising my extraction point, i.e. this little terrace here.” I acknowledged.
“But, surely you must be worried about someone seeing you scaling the walls…” Thalmin scanned me up and down, as if wanting to comment about my size but- “You’re massive.”
“Okay, first off, rude.” I spoke sarcastically, and raised both hands up for added effect. “But in all seriousness, I have another device that can mask my visual presence.” I pulled out a plastic-like poncho from one of my pouches, activating it, and revealing its active-camo properties as it projected whatever was behind it, albeit with some imperfections. “It isn’t perfect, but from afar it should actually work pretty well.”
Both Thalmin and Thacea stared at each other in utter shock as they saw this.
“A mana-less-”
“I think… this is a matter worth discussing another time, Princess.” Thalmin interjected with a polite exasperated breath. “But I expect a good explanation for this one, Emma.” Thalmin pointed a finger right at me.
“In any case, I will be diverting the Deputy-Magistrate’s attention by preoccupying him with needless and vapid chatter. This should take attention away from the apprentice and your intrusion, Emma.” Thacea quickly added, and promptly tied this whole impromptu operation up nicely.
“Alright, let’s get this show on the road then. We’ll head back to the dorms and get that letter drafted so-”
“Already done.” Thacea interjected, bringing up a parchment that she promptly began sealing into an envelope.
“Wait, when did you-”
“Whilst we were talking, I used a dictation spell. The letter is written and signed.” Thacea spoke nonchalantly, as she held a neatly sealed envelope in one of her talons.
“Wait, what, when did you, how did you-?”
“I carry a quill and extra parchment in my bag of holding. This is to account for any eventuality where a statement in writing, a legal affidavit, or a notarized letter may be required.” Thacea responded a-matter-of-factly.
“Alright then.” I tapped the pouch with the INFIL-DRONE, the small little thing peeking its head out much to the visible disgust of the pair. “So we’re ready for phase one of the operation. Misdirection and information gathering. We’ll go in, drop the letter, and have the drone do its thing. After that, we wait for the drone to return, and we’ll take it from there on whether or not we can continue with Phase Two: penetrating the enemy lines.”
“What would be stopping us from continuing with phase two?” Thalmin quickly asked.
“Well, simple. If the apprentice is still conked out from her injuries, there wouldn’t be any point in attempting to meet her. So hopefully, she’s going to be in a good enough state to talk to. We’ll know when we get the drone footage back.”
“Fair point.” Thalmin nodded.
“So, is everyone ready to begin?” Thacea asked.
A series of affirmative nods later, we began our quick walk back over to the atrium.

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, Extraction Point Alpha (Open Air Terrace Overlooking the Medical Wing). Local Time: 1420 Hours.
That took way more time than I’d initially thought.
In fact, it took so long that I was beginning to wonder how two people could have an unending conversation where nothing of value was spoken and nothing of value was gained.
It was basically elevator small talk, but written by the same writers who wrote Bridgerwesson Lane, and adapted to a theatrical release with a trilogy that ended with a movie arbitrarily cut up into a two-parter.
I honestly zoned out for a few moments during those hours, as I decided to use the spare time to review the grappling hook and mountaineering gear I’d be using on this little quest.
Eventually however, the Deputy-Magistrate relented, at which point I let loose the INFIL-DRONE to do its thing.
It’d been twenty minutes since we left and made our way back to this open-air terrace, and all of us were waiting with bated breath for the results the drone had in store.
“So, how fast can that drone of yours fly anyways Emma-”
Thalmin was immediately cut off as the drone in question buzzed right by his ears, causing them to flick this way and that, before flattening out entirely.
“Speak of him and he will come.” I chuckled, as I outstretched a gloved hand over for the little drone to perch atop of.
Once again, the pair stared at it with a look of mild disgust, and then panic as it crawled all the way back into its docking port, and began uploading the data we needed.
“Alright, let’s see what we have here.” I spoke to no one in particular before shifting my attention to the EVI. “EVI, isolate and replay relevant footage, and calculate the target’s location.”
“Acknowledged, parsing…”
“Location Parsing. Footage isolated. Play Footage?”
“Affirmative.”
I immediately pulled out my data-tab for the gang to be able to watch as well, as the footage began just as the Deputy-Magistrate, and by extension the drone, arrived at the apprentice’s room.
The door, and all details posted in the front were all captured, and so too was the state of the apprentice revealed to us in short order as I braced myself for a mangled and bandaged-up mass of broken bones.
What I instead saw, was… still a heavily bandaged up figure. However, the most important thing was that they were awake.
And what was remarkable, was the fact that they were able to move without assistance. As the apprentice reached over to receive the letter wordlessly, shifting a bit in bed as she did so.
“This is a letter addressed from a Princess Thacea Dilani of the Aetheronrealm. I have fulfilled my duties and obligations as per the Expectant Decorum. I will now take my leave, Apprentice Larial.” The deputy-magistrate spoke with the same air of overbearing properness, seriously making me consider whether or not this was how he was all the time.
Whatever the case may be, the apprentice seemed to be healed enough to move her arms at the very least, as she grabbed the letter and spoke hoarsely back in response. “Thank you Senior Apprentice.”
There wasn’t much to the footage beyond those interactions, but it was good enough for the purposes of this mission.
“Alright.” I spoke, as I pocketed the tablet. “We have our answer. The apprentice seems healed up enough to speak to, so phase two of this operation is a-go.”
The pair nodded in response, just in time for the EVI to be done with whatever calculations were needed to determine the apprentice’s precise location.
I turned to the tower, as the room and its balcony was highlighted.
It was just about five stories above from where we were.
Meaning it’d be a hell of a climb.
“The room’s about five floors up.” I announced with a sigh.
“Are you sure you can make that journey, Emma?” Thacea responded worryingly. “I… I will be honest, Emma, I am having some second doubts about this whole idea. The concept just came to me as flying between tall structures and towers is just second nature to us Aetheronrealmers. Considering the heights involved, and your inability to fly, I’m wondering if this whole quest was a folly of my own shortsighted-”
“It’s fine, Thacea.” I cut the avinor off. “I can do this, trust me.” I placed a single hand on the princess’ shoulder, and squeezed it once for effect.
Meanwhile, the EVI began doing what it did best: attempting to minimize the risk associated with my hairbrained schemes, as it deployed the suit’s primary lookout drone in order to start mapping out the best possible route forward.
This spooked the pair yet again, as they both jolted backwards.
Thankfully, the drone was deathly silent, so it shouldn’t bring too much attention to it.
It was at this point that I brought out a pair of earpieces I was scrounging my pouches for earlier, one for Thacea, and another for Thalmin.
“These will help you stay in contact with me throughout the climb.” I stated plainly, as I attempted to latch it onto my own ear for demonstrative purposes, only to realize that I could not, given the suit was in the way.
I sighed, as I turned towards Thalmin. “Do you mind if I put it on for you?” I asked sheepishly.
“Erm, what is it, Emma?”
“It’s…” I paused, as I attempted to find the best way to describe this without taking up too much time. “It’s a communication artifice, Thalmin. It’ll allow us to talk to each other remotely, relying on that drone there-” I pointed at the lookout drone still flying away from us. “-to relay our voices to each other.”
Thalmin, as expected, looked at me with an expression of partial dumbfoundedness whilst Thacea seemed completely transfixed by the earpieces I held in my hands.
“So it’s like a hearing-sense?” Thalmin responded with a questioning bark.
“Look, I’ll just demonstrate.” I managed out with a sigh as Thalmin reluctantly nodded and allowed me to begin hooking in the earpiece, looping it around his fluffy triangular ears.
This inevitably resulted in my hand brushing over the lupinor’s fluffy head a few times, which seemed to elicit some large tail-wags and a dulcet rumble.
I tried to ignore that, as I pulled back and began demonstrating. “I’ve turned off my speakers, can you still hear me, Thalmin?”
“Yes, I can.” The lupinor spoke after clearing his throat.
I turned my speakers back on immediately after. “Alright, I’ll get into the specifics of how it works later, but as for now, just know that I can hear whatever you say.”
“I’m afraid I don’t think that artifice will be compatible with my… anatomy, Emma.” Thacea spoke calmly, as she pointed at several aspects of the earpiece that required an actual ear canal to fit into, and an earlobe to loop around.
“This complicates things a bit, but it shouldn’t be too difficult. How long do you think you can keep up the distracting conversation with the deputy-magistrate for, Thacea?”
“We just went through several hours discussing nothing in particular, I can most certainly continue that trend from dusk till dawn.” The avinor spoke confidently, and frankly, rather proudly. “The issue lies not in how long I can manage to maintain the conversation, but in how long it will take you to accomplish this quest, Emma.” Thacea shot back.
“An hour.” I nodded confidently. “Twenty minutes to scoot my way over there, twenty to talk to the apprentice, and twenty to get back.”
“I’ll make that two hours then.” Thacea responded without a second thought. “We need to account for potential complications, and an extra hour of senseless dialogue will most certainly not be an issue for me.”
With an affirmative nod from me, and an approving glance from Thalmin, I now turned towards the exterior of the two hundred foot corridor leading to the concourse, and the extra five hundred feet it would take to get from the atrium to the tower in question.
It was at that last minute that the EVI brought out another suggestion, one that was formulated with the aid of the new datasets provided by the FEBNPMS lookout drone that had been busy mapping out the best route forward.
It was… an inherently riskier approach, one that my aunt would definitely not approve of, but it definitely beat scaling a wall and wedging spikes into it.
“Actually… I have a better idea than simply scaling the walls.”

The Transgracian Academy for the Magical Arts, En Route to Medical Wing Tower C, Room 705. Local Time: 1430 Hours.
“Grapple secure.”
I will never forget the feeling of falling.
The very wrong feeling that came with leaping off of solid ground into empty sky, of suddenly seeing and feeling the world whizzing by me.
It was a visceral feeling, a gut-churning sensation, dominated by an overbearing sense of impending doom that takes over your terrestrial brain that wasn’t designed to feel the ‘freeing’ sensation of being unbound to the ground beneath you.
Leaping over from the edge of the terrace was the worst part of it. But after that tentative jump, things started to become just a little bit easier.
The Academy’s proclivity for over-aggrandized architectural design would finally serve a purpose beyond just decorative aesthetics.
Because it was clear that the walls weren’t really designed to ward off anyone daring to scale them. As there existed several, if not hundreds of these little greebles and outcroppings that served no purpose but to act as decorative pieces on the side of the castle. Some held stone flowers, whilst others had lamps or other light pieces of varying designs.
No matter what they were, or what meaning they held, all were equal and valid targets in the eyes of my grappling hook.
As I dangled there from the first outcropping, held in place by a single high-tensile cable, I looked up to see Thalmin looming over the edge “EMMA?!” I heard him shout in a panic. It was clear that he was unable to see anything, as my light-refraction cloak was currently doing its job well.
“I’m still here, Thalmin. You can’t see me but I’m dangling from this weird outcropping that looks like an overinflated vase.”
“NEXT TIME, BE SURE TO INFORM ME AS TO THE NATURE OF YOUR IMPOSSIBLE ARTIFICES BEFORE USE, UNDERSTOOD?!”
“Of course. You’ll know if I’ve fallen if you hear a long scream followed by a large splat.”
“That’s not funny!”
I chuckled nervously in response, before turning to face the grueling, gut-churning journey ahead of me. “Humor’s my way of dealing with stress, and trust me, I have a lot of stress to work through right about now.”
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(Author’s Note: Hey guys! Time for some unconventional solutions courtesy of Emma and the gang! We're going to meet the apprentice one way or another! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Chapter is already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 34 of this story is already out on there!)]

Hey there!
Been doing a bit of spring cleaning and realized that most of what's taking space in my closet is old laptops, monitors, towers, batteries, etc. that I can't just put out on the curb, and I've been thinking of figuring out how to schedule a pickup.
In the last week I've also ended up with a portable air conditioner, and I can't find anyone who does both those *and* e-waste.
The biggest hurdle is that I've got no car, and even if I did, I can't lift the air conditioner, and can't take them to a recycling centre myself.
Anyone got any suggestions as to someone who'll pick up all this junk for me? I've tried Google, but these days it's hard to sort through what's legit and what's a scam, so I'd trust personal opinion more than anything I find there.

Sincerely
Ba-doh, ba-doh, ba-doh, ba-doh-ba
Sincerely, oh yes, sincerely
'Cause I love you so dearly, please say you'll be mine
-The Moonglows
Part I - The End
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. If I keep saying it maybe it will be true.
But it was happening. Tough times. Humpty Dumpty times. Out of gas in the desert with no bars times.
And, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse than a Tijuana root canal; she walked in. Out of the sweltering Mexican heat, into the dim bar, she came; the only thing standing between me and the blinding light. I heard a couple of gunshots somewhere in the distance.
I still remember how the sun illuminated my 2pm rise and shine, shit-faced full of no caffeine afternoon after, hair of the dog; tequila shot and beer. Like I said, tough times on the Ponderosa, Hoss.
Every time I think of that moment, I stand transfixed in time. Unable to move, frozen in-place tighter than a suckered kid’s tongue to a Chicago lamppost in a February ice storm. Maggie had long ago won my heart’s devotion only to betray both me, and it, in ways still inconceivable to my sauce pan of a brain.
So, a couple of months ago, my life in post-apocalyptic ruin, I did what any red-blooded American would do; I flew across the border to CDMX to drown my sorrows in tequila and cheap living. And now, incomprehensibly, here she was; back, again like the September monsoon. Had the bitch air tagged me?
It seemed with Maggie my heart’s devotion was not enough. Everything she wanted and received soon became a dull knife; just ain’t cutting. Mags had to have it all, all the time. And I thought she had gotten all of me and more. Who’d think she’d want to pick at the carcass? But inexplicably, there she was like my constant migraine, the one that never really left the base of my skull.
Without a word Mags swooped in close like she missed me and now hadda kiss me.
Then, quicker than lightning showing off, she plunged her delicate-boned hand deep into my chest. She then removed it with even greater alacrity holding it high above her jet-black mane. She waved it for all the bar to see, my still beating corazón in it, color-coordinating against it’s will with her manicure, making what looked like vague Italian gestures.
Nobody in the bar paid us any mind.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t help but avert my horrified gaze into my now exposed chest cavity, only to witness darkness within darkness gazing back at me.
“Heyyyyyy,” a voiceless voice greeted and saluted.
I looked up at Maggie. She took the seat opposite mine. Then reaching over with her free hand commandeered my tequila and knocked it back quick. Her encore was to grab my beer and drain it with all the mud she could muster into my eye. Then, with a satisfied look she dropped the now emptied bottle on the wooden table hard enough to make a thud.
Maggie then met my stare. My cardia beating peripatetically in her freshly manicured right-hand she made an elaborate shrug, her face smug as a tyrant’s fart.
I remembered wondering what the fuck was keeping my cardio so vascular. It sure as fuck wasn’t clean living. Then, that voiceless voice had yet more to say.
“Now what, Spenser?” it asked.
Now, it was now my turn to shrug. Surprisingly, despite being a now certifiably heartless son of a bitch, I, too, had something to say. So, I said it.
“You’re fucking diabolical, Maggie.”
My words of judgment echoed clear, permeating deep into the abyss, then back again at Maggie. She caught my words easier than a kitten catches smiles. She just shrugged again. It was starting to get annoying.
“You ruined me,” I added just to be doing something.
The shrug undulated down from her tan and toned shoulder through her arm, finally coming to a full stop at her finger’s tips.
Waving my heart at me with more vague Italian gestures Mags asked, “How can you be so sure, Spenser?”
Part II – The Middle
Sincerely, oh you know how I love you
I'll do anything for you, please say you'll be mine
...
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. My new mantra wasn’t working.
Six months ago, I thought Maggie was the answer to my dreams.
Swooping down like an angel to shower me with attention and affection. Dinners with wine. Hot sex. More hot sex. No strings attached. Getting to know you pillow talk.
Now, there’s one thing I need to add. I met her through a dating app but as it turned out we both worked for the same nonprofit. We didn’t know each other as it’s a fairly big company but it turned out I supported the code for both her projects. This turned out to be one of many coincidences.
We both hated our jobs. We both liked writing short stories but never could sell a thing despite writing dozens and dozens. We both could dance salsa, on 1 and 2 and loved to hablar en español que no era muy guapo.
We both wanted to run away to Mexico city and live the Bohemian life.
Coincidences like we both grew up in NYC and had issues with our respective families of origin. And while she was Chinese-American and I was Russian-American both our fathers were born in the same year and were obsessed with Woody Allen. We both had much younger siblings we didn’t speak to.
Yeah, we had both grown up with weak fathers and selfish narcissistic mothers in common. And worser still, we had both experienced unstable living situations in high school. In my case, I was kicked out of the house for smoking weed.
In Maggie’s case, I never really was sure what went down but the best I could get out of her was at 13 she got pissed at her mom for cheating on her dad and left the house with nowhere to go. She ended up with family friends or relatives but the details were always murky and I was not the nosey type.
Her words to me were, “My mother’s emotional IQ is low. I raised myself.”
Impressively, she had made it through the Ivy League and seemed to be someone down to earth I could spend time with. But truth be told from the minute I saw her profile picture I was hotter than a Texas chili sprout for her.
It was some kind of primal attraction I thought I was long past entertaining. It wasn’t lust. It wasn’t love. It was like the thought of coming home to a family I never knew I had or that even could exist.
This shit made old me feel like young me again. But, as oft is the case in life, there was a problem. I was old, broke and probably about to lose my job. I was in IT and I was having problems with my manager being a psychopath; for reals.
It wasn’t mere conjecture as he had a reputation of getting people fired, or worse, making their lives so miserable they would quit; even with no prospects. I had been the focus of his sabotaging efforts and it had been having a bad effect on my mental and physical well-being.
This had taken a turn for the worse and I was catching a lot of passive aggressive hostility on the project Maggie supported.
Anyway, she was the bright spot in my otherwise mostly solitary and emotionally bleak life. And she lived nearby. She had an ex and kids and shared custody but I never met them and she didn’t really talk much about it except to say once, “You should need a license to have kids.”
I never had quite known what to make of some of the things she said, but like I said, I was under her spell. And I liked it.
And the icing on top? I had a dominant kinky side and that was a fire Maggie poured gasoline on every chance she got. She was worse than an arsonist in Underoo Town.
One weird thing about Mags was her knitting habit. If we weren’t fucking or eating she was knitting. Even at restaurants and bars.
One day in November, with the sun golden in a sky so blue you thought you could touch it I asked, “What are you knitting?”
Maggie gave me a wry look. She got out of her chair and seemed to be examining my bald head which I had shaved just that morning.
“A hat,” she replied.
But as the holidays rolled around things started to change. One Sunday morning as we were having coffee Maggie looked around the crowded steamy café.
“Everybody’s hooking up for the holidays,” she remarked.
I didn’t really know what to do with that one so I let it be.
But as the days went on there was a change in the weather. Fewer texts. Less sex. Maggie going out of town to some vague destination. Sending me sexy pictures of herself in Santa outfits after I caught the flu during Christmas.
A few days after Christmas I got a text late one night.
“Is it okay if I come by?”
“Very okay,” was my reply.
Maggie showed up with chocolate, red wine and the hat she had been knitting. Orange Afghani wool softer than a golden retriever’s fur. She put the hat on my head and then removed all my clothes.
“Let’s celebrate Christmas, Spenser.”
And, we did.
When we were done and lying head-to-head, I said, “I love my hat.”
Maggie said, “I made it especially for you. No matter what, don’t lose it.”
It was another one of those weird Maggie things she said, like, “I used to shoplift,” and shit like that.
I nodded.
“Promise me you’ll hold on to your hat, Spenser.”
“I promise.”
Maggie observed my face, then nodded as if confirming something to herself.
“Okay.”
Then we did that thing again.
That was the pinnacle. Things quickly went downhill for no reason I could discern. Texts unanswered and when answered; kind of abrupt-like. Being unavailable. Stuff with her kids. Time away in Connecticut for some vague reason. After that I began feeling like the weakest card in a gambler’s hand.
But Maggie kept shoe horning me in at odd times, giving me just enough crumbs to keep me on the hook. And as we rode the roller coaster down everything always seemed to center around alcohol. And sex. More and more debauched sex. Finally, by New Year’s Eve things were getting straight-up weird no chaser.
“You know that thing we talked about?”
By her tone I knew what she meant. I nodded cautiously.
“You want to try it?”
Maggie dropped a smile on me that would have had the serpent in the garden applying for unemployment.
“Yes,” she said.
So, we did.
I thought I had been imagining things. I thought we were back at the pinnacle. I could feel the love drug course through my veins. Things couldn’t be better. Or, so I thought.
Oh Lord, won't you tell me why
I love that girlie so
The Following Monday
The next Monday I was called into what turned out to be the most fucking bizarre moment of my fifty-eight years on this planet; and I’ve had some bizarre fucking moments growing up in south Brooklyn in the 1970’s; believe you me.
The company’s CIO, compliance officer, head of legal, head of HR and my evil manager, Conte Rugen were all in attendance, cameras ROLLING.
It appears I was being dismissed after 8 years loyal service for sexual assault, extortion, harassment, hate speech, insults to farm animals and every fucking other offense against God and man one could commit in these holiest of holy United States of America.
And just who had I… who had I.. victimized? Who had I preyed upon? Harassed? Gone full nutso on?
Maggie.
They had the goods. Recordings. Video. Ropes. Whips. Chains. Bad Spanglish. Maggie screaming, “No, papi! No!!!!”
I believe I was, what is known in legal parlance as, summarily fucked.
Nobody wanted to hear my side. How things were taken out of context. Things we had mutually consented to out of exciting and bonding trust and exploration.
“Did I have consent agreement?” I parroted back in shock to the head of legal.
“Did you get one when you fucked your mother in the ass before she shat you out?” I added just to keep my mouth from puking.
I was in bombshell shock. Maggie was my angel. Our situationship was supposed to be fucking healing from our abused childhoods and here I am now some kind of Tarantinoesque, Mr. Fucking Rapist? And my fucking manager once bragging about throwing a cat out a window when he was a juvenile delinquent?!?
There would be charges pressed. I would need an attorney. I might be arrested.
And it all happened faster than you can say, “Blue Monday, How I hate Blue Monday”.
And then Maggie sued the company. Take no fucking prisoners, Maggie. Disco-fucking-inferno burn that mother down we don’t need no water let the motherfucker burn Maggie. I wondered if her ex had been left on food stamps after the divorce.
A few months and my life savings and retirement account after that the criminal case got pleaded down to misdemeanor assault and I was able to arbitrate with my employer and Maggie’s lawyer leaving me with some clothes, my passport and precisely enough plastic to fly into the sweltering Mexican heat. So, fly into it I did.
Part III – The Beginning
Sincerely, oh you know how I love you
I'll do anything for you, please say you'll be mine
Oh Lord, won't you tell me why
I love that girlie so
She doesn't want me
But I'll never never never never let her go
...
“I wish you’d stop waving that thing at me,” I said gesturing at my heart with my chin.
“You’re still upset,” Maggie said. It wasn’t a question.
“You fucking abused me. You fucking eviscerated me. Yeah, you could say I’m a little perturbed.”
“But you’re still wearing the hat,” she said smiling.
“It’s a bad ass hat,” I said. It was after all. Why cut off your nose to spite your face?
“I put a lot of time and thought into it,” she said. My heart continued to beat in her hand.
...
Oh Lord, won't you tell me why
I love that girlie so
She doesn't want me
But I'll never never never never let her go
...
“Look,” she said waving my heart at me.
“I really wish you wouldn’t wave that around like that.”
The voice in the abyss in my chest spoke. It said, “Wait for it.”
Maggie said, “Spenser, you poor fucking sap. You hate your fucking job. You try to do the right fucking thing and speak up and you get kicked around like a dog. You try to love hard and you get beat up and left in an alley. You try to write books and start businesses and you end up bankrupt or dead.
And now look at you! You don’t have a care in the fucking world. You don’t have a shitty job. You are in beautiful Mexico City with the girl of your dreams. You say your heart was hardened? Well, I say it feels pretty fucking soft and sweet to me. Like the hat I knitted you. With the pom pom. And you know what?”
“What?” I heard myself murmur?
The abyss in my chest said, “Yeah, what?”
“Well, one the fucking pom pom has a beacon so I knew where you were the whole fucking time you sap. So I can tell you this true. And I will. So here I am in fucking Mexico sweating my tits off. And I am telling you this," she said nodding at my cardio, "is a very good heart. And I am putting it back where it belongs.
There is nothing wrong with it and now nobody can hurt it again. And if you want to write a book now you have something, and someone,” she added with a wry smile, “to write about.”
Then lightning quick Maggie put it back in my chest and removing her hand made a quick flourish gesturing for the waitress.
“Botella de tequila, por favor!”
I looked down at my chest. Everything seemed to be the way it had been before she ripped out my heart. Only different.
I was about to speak. Maggie raised a hand.
The waitress appeared like a wraith and put down a bottle of Don Julio and two fresh shot glasses and two cold ones.
Maggie poured two shots and pushed one at me with the hand that had been holding my cardio captive. She then fished around in her pocket and found her phone.
“What the fuck, right," that's what your thinking, Spenser. Yeah, what the fuck is right. Look at this baby boy,” she said and then pushed her phone next to the shot glass.
I was looking at what appeared to be a bank balance that appeared ready, willing and able to face fuck an extraordinarily tall giraffe. I felt the migraine disappear like a bad dream.
Maggie gave me a wry smile.
She pushed the shot glass closer to me and picked hers up. I felt my elbow bending. It felt okay.
She tilted her shot at me and said, "Here's looking at you, kid," and took the shot. I drank mine.
We put our glasses down.
“You can negotiate anything," she said, then added, "sincerely.”
And then, then she kissed me.
Oh say you'll be mine
Oo-eee, oo-eee-oo, ooi-ooi-ooo
Sincerely

“Hey Raz, I got one!” Raz’s voice was cut by static as he called back, “Great! …at quarry …die.” Well, that wasn’t ominous at all, I thought to myself as I adjusted the rear-view mirror to check on the operator I had just blown past. They were doubled over coughing, their gas mask swayed side to side on the ground next to their feet. I don’t know what compelled me to not flatten what I had thought to be an AQ soldier, but I’m glad I didn’t.
I slammed my hummer in reverse, coming to a stop next to the helpless operator. “Hop in bud, we can get you to final exfill yet.” He slowly hauled himself into the bed of my hummer, landing with a dull thud and a groan as he fell onto his back. We cleared the gas, and I was immediately put on edge as my passenger started to gain consciousness. If he was planning anything nefarious, there wasn’t much I could do about it now. “You good back there? Normally I’d stop to send an invite but given the situation that might have just caused more problems.” He leaned through the non-existent rear window, “Nah, I understand man. When we get further from the gas we can stop and squad up. Don’t need to risk lighting each other up if things get hot at the exfill.” I couldn’t help but chuckle, “I don’t think that would be much of an issue regardless. Hey, we didn’t leave any of your friends back there, did we? I know we peeled out pretty quick.” I saw him shake his head and point to our left in the rear-view mirror. “We got split up, but they were running for a car, so I wasn’t too worried.” I followed his finger, a white hatchback cruised along parallel to us, swerving through buildings trying not to eat too many AQ bullets. “Hey boys, Dutch here is gonna roll with us to final. We’ll squad up when we get there.” I was barely able to make out one of his squad mates call out “Tight!” over his earpiece.
“Hey, listen, I’ve got friend I’m rolling with. His name’s Raz, he’s gonna meet us at final. If you see a red, white, and blue LTV, don’t shoot alright.” Raz chimed in, his radio finally clear of the static, “That’s very kind of you to tell them not to shoot me Dutch.” Before I could respond, a black turreted LTV slid out of Said City ahead of us. “Is that your boy Dutch?” I wanted to give my passenger the benefit of the doubt, it is windy in the box after all, he might not have heard me. “Nah man, wrong colour, and he didn’t have a turreted LTV last I saw.” The black LTV continued North along the main road as we cut away into the quarry proper. “Raz, company is headed your way. Looks like it’s just a solo in that truck but you can never be too careful.” “Thanks for the heads up Dutch.”
I rolled to a stop at the base of the helicopter ramp, gently flattening a couple of AQ who were getting a little to close to the bird for comfort, just shy of the battery running dry. The other two operators in the hatchback slid to a stop just down the hill from us. I got out of the hummer, a tad worried that my good fortune was about to come to an end at the hands of these fellas. As they ran up the hill, the notification finally popped. I accepted and ran down the hill to grab the hatchback, breathing a sigh of relief. “Wait, where you goin’ Dutch?” One of my clients called out. “Raz and I will run interference while we wait for the chopper to take off. Any AQ or unfriendly operators are gonna have to go through us.” “You keep talking about this Raz guy, but I’ve yet to see anyone other than that black LTV.” Almost on queue, a black LTV flew up the hill narrowly missing my hatchback. My clients went into a frenzy. “Operators pushing us! Take ‘em down!” The LTV spun in the sand in front of me, a glorious and perfectly oiled moustache glinting in the Al Mazrah sun. “Hold your fire! It’s Raz!” I called from below my clients. I sent an invite to him which he had hopped out and accepted faster than any of these guys could pull the trigger. “You see the operator that was in that earlier?” Raz shook his head, “No, I pulled up on it and they were gone. Must be out on foot somewhere.”
With 5 seconds left on the clock, there wasn’t enough time to go find them, our clients now panicking as they realized we weren’t on the bird. “What are you two doing?!” They shouted from the air as we waved goodbye. “Al Mazrah is our home gentlemen. That bird was never meant for us.” I gave Raz a pat on the shoulder as the gas rapidly approached, another successful day had come to a close.
The clack of a Kastov charging handle was almost unmistakable. We both turned to see the operator from the LTV standing there, rifle honed on us. “Well shit.” Their rifle dropped towards the dirt as they looked back over their shoulder at the nearly out of sight exfill chopper. They pushed through us, wandering towards the North side of the quarry. Raz and I locked eyes, shrugging in unison. That was one of those moments where we really wouldn’t have blamed them for their decision, whatever it might have been. “We better get back to HQ, Compton said I.T dropped off something for you.” Raz said as the gas engulfed us.
“I’m going back to the island boss.” My hands were shaking as I gripped the file folder that I.T had left for me. “Twitch.” “He’s back, it took him a bit, but he’s managed to re-take the castle and hunker down since we last saw him. And if he’s back then we might finally be able to get some proper intel on those blue tracers, direct from the source.” I handed the folder to Raz. He took it, turning to no doubt address the rest of the crew. I grabbed his shoulder, stopping him before he could speak. “Not everybody, not this time. They’ve doubled the defences; we’d be walking into a slaughterhouse.” “Well, you can’t go in there alone, we look out for our own Dutch, you know that.” Raz’s brow tightened, I could tell he was already trying to figure out what my plan was. “I’m bringing Maze and Alex. They’ll provide sniper cover while I infiltrate the castle. I still have my old uniform. As long as they haven’t drastically changed up their callsigns, I should be able to get in undetected.” I could tell Raz wasn’t convinced. “Dutch, like you said, you’d be walking into a slaughterhouse. How does you going in solo make that any better.” “After what happened in the complex…I’m not putting anyone else at risk, I can’t. The Bomb Maker…Twitch, I’ve gotta face him myself. Look him in the eyes so he knows I crawled out of Hell to drag him back down there.” “Alright, I couldn’t really stop you if I wanted to, could I?” Raz shrugged. “No, not unless you shot me, and honestly, I’d take those odds.” I punched his shoulder and started heading for the breakroom to grab Maze and Alex. “You keep that up I’ll be moving you back out to that sea can of yours.” Raz smirked.
The locks took a bit of fighting to get open. While this footlocker had only been on Ashika Island for a few months, the constant spray of salt water had worn away what little integrity it once had. The black uniform, emblazoned with the Rook and Spade of Shadow Company, was still in excellent condition, save for a bullet hole just under where the plate carrier would sit. I paused for a moment, holding it up in the air, memories of the past flooding in. “Not a lot of fond memories in that uniform I take it.” Maze called out from the catwalk in our home away from home. “I think part of the problem is that there are good memories. It’s a little concerning that such fond memories can hide out amongst so much evil.” “We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of. Some of us just did things other people also wouldn’t be proud of either.” Alex chuckled to himself as he cleaned his rifle on the cot next to me. I grimaced, mostly because he was right. I slipped into the old black fatigues and strapped on my old plate carrier. My weapons were all still intact too, I pulled my Taq-56 out of the footlocker, running my fingers over the engraving in the side, ROOK-XLIV. I cycled the charging handle a few times before loading in a fresh magazine and setting it on the cot next to me. I pulled out a pistol belt, two pearl handled revolvers, one with an ebony Rook on the grip, the other, an ebony Spade. Umbra Catavae engraved along each barrel. Maze had come down from the rafters now, a look of mixed intrigue and concern on her face, “I take it those don’t invoke fond memories.” I had done a poor job of hiding my look of disgust. “No, unfortunately they do.” I felt a wave of guilt wash over me. “Each of these was given to me for completing outstanding performance in the field. I did things I’m not proud of, and I was rewarded for it, handsomely. Holding these in my hands, I feel the same pride I had felt when they were first handed to me. It makes me sick.” I strapped the belt around my waist. The pearl handles shining against my all black silhouette. Alex piped up again, “Hey, at least you are trying to make amends for your sins, not many can say the same.” I let out a long sigh, “I suppose you’re right. You both remember the plan?” “Get to the radio towers and start lighting the place up when shit inevitably hits the fan.” Maze grinned. “Close enough.” I pulled my balaclava up and headed for the door.
The guard at the gate didn’t immediately shoot me which gave me some spark of hope that this might work. “In position!” Alex and Maze called out almost simultaneously. “Jinx, you owe me a beer!” Maze rejoiced. “What? Why would I give you a beer for that?” Alex sounded genuinely confused. “Hey, cut the chatter you two, don’t need to give them any reason to not let me in alright.” The guard held up his hand. “I don’t recognize you, let’s see your I.D.” I held up my old I.D card. “Well I’ll be damned, look who crawled out if his grave.” He pulled my mask down to confirm. “You look pretty good for a corpse, though your I.D card is out of regulation. You might want to stop by the I.T guy to get a new one made.” “Thanks, I’ll head right over.” The first thought that came to my mind was Bob. There’s no way he still worked for these assholes, is there.
“You used your old I.D?! You mad man!” Maze cackled over the radio. “Ok, I’ll admit, this wasn’t my greatest plan. I honestly thought they’d just capture me after seeing who I was.” Alex cut me off, “Go with the flow I suppose.” “Spade-499 up one-two.” The local radio channel began to drown out my squad’s comms. “Rook-3468 down one-one” “This is some odd radio traffic Dutch.” Alex quipped. I watched as a Shadow Company mercenary approached a stairwell, each step primed and ready to pop a leg off whichever unfortunate soul chose to ascend. “Spade-5454 up one-two.” “It’s how they know to deactivate the traps.” I whispered into our secure line. I approached the same stairwell. “Rook-44 up one-two.” I could hear the traps audibly click off. The guard at the to put his hand out as I reached the top step. “Sorry, no ghosts allowed on the second floor.” “Ghost? What…” He bent over laughing. “I’m just messing with you man. They said you died holding off the ULF while Bob and Twitch escaped, going out in a blaze of glory. Clearly, they didn’t have their facts straight. Glad to have you back.” I’m glad I had the balaclava on because I was struggling to hide my confusion. Last I checked I was the scape goat for the largest backstab in Shadow Company history, not a hero. I was never a hero when I worked for them. “I take it you are going to see the boss, call up two-zero, we don’t want people to be just guess on the fly, just in case someone tries to sneak in.” If only he knew.
“We don’t have eyes up there Dutch. Whatever happens, you’re on your own.” I could hear a tinge of worry in Alex’s voice. “Just make sure whoever is in here doesn’t get reinforcements.” “You got it!” Alex and Maze both called out in unison. “Jinx, you owe me another beer.” “There’s free beer at headquarters, why would I owe you a beer for that.” Alex called back clearly still confused. “Radio silence please. I’ve got a rat to kill.” I took a deep breath, pulling my Bryson from its sheath, the chrome exterior brushed over with a dull grey to blend in. “Rook-44 up two-zero.”
“Well, well, well. I was wondering when I’d see you again after our last encounter. Urzikstan and Al Mazrah clearly hadn’t kicked your ass enough so you decided to come crawling back to me for another round.” The traps clicked off. “Come on up, I’ve been looking forward to this.” I slowly ascended, keeping my Bryson trained at the top of the stairs, my eyes scanning each stair for an actual trap. As I crested the stairwell, my eyes were immediately drawn to him. His back turned to me, Trophy Systems whirring and clicking around him. “I missed you Dutch. Well, the old you. The one that would shoot through a hostage just to prove a point, the one that would dangle captives from buildings by their collar until they squawked like a bird, and then still dropped them anyways. I miss the Dutch that smoked Keller because his gas mask worked and yours didn’t when we those crazy Russian’s tried to hit us with mustard gas. I still get a little nauseous when I think about you peeling his face out of there.” “I’ve changed Twitch, I’ve moved past all that. I found a calling that doesn’t require me to be a conniving bastard.” Twitch laughed as he turned around, his hands empty. I kept my Bryson trained on him. “That’s what you think I am huh? I prefer shrewd businessman, but if that’s what helps you sleep at night.” He walked to one of the barred windows. “You really think what you and those taxi driving hooligans are doing matters?” “Clearly it does, or you and the Chemist wouldn’t be working so hard to sabotage us.” I took a few steps towards him. “Well, I suppose it matters to one of us. The Chemist and Raz go way back, but you know that. What I care about is the money, and I get a lot of money for helping that crazy bastard try to wipe out your little band of Merry Men.” “And Women. This guy just loves the sound of his own voice. Can I remove his head already? He’s looking right at me, practically begging me to pull the trigger.” I could hear the contempt in Maze’s voice. Twitch always did love a monologue. “You can still fix your mistakes Twitch. Gives us what info you have on those tracers of yours and I might consider not killing you.” I snarled. “When you went soft Dutch, you lost any respect I might have had for you. We are long past the point where you can intimidate me. Besides, any info I did have, is with the Chemist. He paid a handsome sum to get the formula, and really, it was becoming a logistical nightmare to ship enough of those little blue gems across the sea. Better for everyone to have it made close to the front lines.”
“Spade-101 up two-zero.” Bob’s voice cut through the tension. “Well I’ll be, it looks like we are gonna have a little family reunion.” Bob’s head poked up the stairs, “Hey boss, another server bank has shorted out from the sea air, I told you we should invest in better waterproofing the housings but if you still…” He trailed off as I dropped my Bryson, the sling catching it just before it hit the ground, and drawing my two revolvers. “Oh, hey Dutch. Nice to see you too.” Bob stammered. I cocked the hammer on each one, keeping one trained on each of my old squad mates. “Really Bob? Really! I understand you sticking around the day of the heist. But now? After everything that Shadow Company has done to these countries. To its own people.” Before he could respond, a siren blared over the intercom system. “Defensive positions! Hostile operators have breached the perimeter.” “Dutch you’ve got six operators approaching the castle, I think it’s time to bounce.” Maze was drowned out by her own gun fire, her Signal .50 raining death into the courtyard. “Looks like our time is up here Dutch. Since you clearly don’t have los cojones to pull the trigger, you might as well see yourself out, and let me and my men handle this.”
“Fuck it.” The hammer of the first revolver slammed down, dropping Bob instantly. I turned to face Twitch, his face a mix of surprise and pride. “Maybe I was wrong, the old Dutch still lives.” I charged forward, tackling him through the window and off the roof. Both of us lay on the ground, groaning as the chorus of gunfire roared around us. He dove for one of my pistols, but unfortunately for him, I had managed to hold on to the other, putting a round through his arm just before he could grab the gun. He rolled out of the way of the second round, bringing his one working hand up to the radio on his chest. The explosion from the castle threw both of us across the courtyard, debris raining down around us. I felt like I was reliving one of the worst days of my life all over again. I hauled myself to my feet, Shadow Company mercenaries and operators wandered aimlessly through the ashes. Everyone seemed too disoriented to fight. “I think it’s time to leave Dutch.” “I second that.” Maze and Alex were barely audible over the ringing in my ears. “Regroup at the boat. If I’m not there in 5, go without me.” I never heard a response, even if they tried, they wouldn’t have convinced me to leave, not with him still breathing.
I combed through the smoke and fire, carefully checking every nook and cranny I came across but the slippery rat was nowhere to be seen. “Looks like you 3 aren’t thick as thieves after all, eh Dutch. Poor Alex here was left all alone on the beach, no boat to be seen.” Twitch was sucking in air between words, no doubt kept standing by adrenaline. “You lay a finger on him, and I’ll make you wish you had died in that explosion.” I spat into my mic. “Don’t make me wait too long.”
I limped over a hill towards the beach where we were supposed to regroup. “Alex! Where’s Maze?” I called out as I stumbled down the sand bank. Alex didn’t respond, his head held in a tight headlock by Twitch, my second pistol against his temple. “She abandoned you both, and now I get the pleasure of killing you both after yet another betrayal. When will you learn Dutch. This world is a cruel place. Only the strong survive, clearly Maze knew that.” Twitch cut me off before I could retort. “Save the fight me with honour B.S that I know you are gonna spew.” I’m gonna kill you and your buddy and salvage what little I can of this operation. Then maybe retire to Cuba. I do love a good cigar.” “Adios, pendejo!” Alex brought his arm down, the knife concealed in his hand connecting with Twitch’s thigh. Twitch let out a high-pitched yelp, letting loose a round from the revolver which narrowly grazed Alex’s hair. Alex dove into the sand right as Twitch’s shoulder exploded in a pink mist followed shortly by the unmistakable crack of Maze’s Signal .50. I squinted trying to see where the shot came from, all I caught was the glint from her scope in the sun, the boat hardly visible in the rolling surf.
I limped forward, Bryson in hand, chrome starting to show through the worn grey paint. I kicked the revolver away from Twitch, placing a boot on his chest and the barrel of my Bryson against his forehead. He began to mumble and cry, hardly able to string together an understandable sentence. “Save it, you’re gonna need your energy for what comes next.” Our boat slammed into the shore, Maze hopping off, rifle raised and ready. “Oh shit I actually hit that!” “I’m not gonna lie, I thought you’d actually just bailed.” I laughed as she helped Alex to his feet. “You still go those claymores?” I asked Maze as Twitch continued to writhe in panic under my boot. “You wanted the old Dutch, eh Twitch. Ask and you shall receive.” Maze handed me the claymores, while Alex kept sidearm pointed at Twitch. I planted 4 around him, just far enough away that they wouldn’t go off unless he moved. I drew one of my revolvers, popping the cylinder out and emptying all but one round. I gave the cylinder a spin before flicking it closed. I tossed the revolver at Twitch. “Don’t waste that on me. You’ll only regret it in about an hour.” I took my other revolver, and hurled it towards the sea, the pearl grip glinting in the sun as it spun through the air, disappearing into the crashing waves. “Good riddance.” I sighed, that chapter of my life finally ended. Twitch was silent, his whimpering now just deep, laboured breathing. I turned back before I stepped onto the boat, watching as his hand slowly moved to the pistol in the sand next to him. “Well played Dutch, well played.”

شركة الجزيرة المثالية شركة مختصة إظهار الكل
مع التقلبات الكبيرة في الحرارة بين الصيف والشتاء، وارتفاع درجات الحرارة بشكل كبير في المنطقة العربية بسبب المناخ الصحراوي، فمكيفات الهواء أصبحت جزءاً ضرورياً لا غنى عنه من الأدوات الكهربائية المنزلية، لكن مع كونها تصنف وفق 3 أنواع أساسية مع الكثير من الأرقام والمقادير التي ترتبط بها، فشراء وحدة تكييف من النوع المناسب وبالاستطاعة الكافية أمرُ ليس بالسهل بالتأكيد. وعند الرغبة بشراء مكيف هواء جديد، فحتى مع تنحية اختيار الشركة المصنعة والعلامة التجارية، تبقى الخيارات متعددة، سواء بين أنواع المكيفات المكونة من قطعتين أو المخصصة للنوافذ أو تلك القابلة للحمل، بالإضافة لسعة التبريد وحتى مستوى صوت وحدة التكييف. هذه الخيارات كثيراً ما تصعب عملية الشراء، لذلك سنتناولها في هذا المقال لجعل عملية الشراء أسهل وأكثر تلبية لاحتياجات وإمكانيات المستخدمين.

ما أهم أنواع وحدات وأجهزة التكييف؟

تنقسم وحدات تكييف الهواء حسب طريقة التركيب وآلية العمل إلى 3 أنواع رئيسية:

1. مكيفات الهواء سبيلت المكونة من وحدتين (Split Units)📷مكيف سبليت يونيت قطعتين تتكون مكيفات الهواء من هذا النوع من وحدة ضاغط ومبادل حرارة خارجي يوضع خارج المنزل عادةً، ووحدة مبادل حرارة داخلية تقوم بتوزيع الهواء في الغرفة. مكيفات هواء سبيلت من هذا النوع أكثر كفاءة من غيرها في توزيع الهواء وسرعة التبريد، إلا أنها أصعب تركيباً وأغلى سعراً من غيرها بل والأكثر شعبية في المنطقة العربية، وتعتمد مكيفات سبيلت المكونة من قطعتين على غاز الفريون في عملية التبريد، وتتصل بخرطوم لتفريغ الماء الناتج عن عملية التبخر والتكثيف، وعادةً ما تحتاج فلاتر المكيف لتنظيف دوري، كما يحتاج لفحص مستوى الغاز عند انخفاض الكفاءة، وعلى الرغم من قلة أعطال مكيفات اسبيلت إلّا أن صيانتها غالباً ما تكون مكلفة.
2. مكيفات الهواء التي توضع في النوافذ "مكيف شباك" 📷مكيف النافذة او الشباك تتكون وحدات التكييف هذه من جزء وحيد يوضع ضمن النافذة وقد يستلزم تثبيت قاعدة حمل خارج النافذة في حال لم تكن الجدران سميكة كفاية، وتتميز بكونها سهلة التركيب ورخيصة الثمن غالباً، لكن صوتها المرتفع وضعف قدرتها على توزيع الهواء بانتظام وعدم دعمها للتدفئة في معظم الأحيان يجعلها أقل شعبية من الأنواع الأخرى هناك فئتان من مكيفات الشباك، الفئة الأولى مكيف شباك الغاز الذي يعمل بنفس تقنية مكيفات سبيلت اعتماداً على ضاغط غاز الفريون لكن في وحدة واحدة متصلة، والفئة الثانية هي مكيفات الشباك التي تعمل بالماء، وهذه الفئة من أرخص المكيفات لأنها تعتمد على حجرة تبريد مزوّدة بجدران كرتون "خلايا التبريد" ومضخة ماء ومروحة فقط، يتدفق الماء باستمرار على الخلايا الكرتونية فيما توزّع المروحة الهواء المحمّل بالبخار، علماً أن مكيف الشباك الذي يعمل بالماء غير مناسب للأماكن ذات الرطوبة العالية، ويحتاج لعملية تنظيف دورية أصعب من مكيفات الفريون.
3. مكيفات الهواء المتنقلة (المحمولة) 📷مكيف عمودي متنقل مكيفات الهواء من هذا النوع تمتلك شعبية كبيرة بسبب سهولة نقلها وعدم حاجتها لإجراءات معقدة للتركيب ومناسبتها للمناخات الحارة والجافة كما في المنطقة العربية. وكما هو الحال مع مكيف الشباك هناك فئتان، قد تعمل المكيفات المتنقلة بتقنية غاز الفريون حيث تكون مزوّدة بخرطوم عريض يتم تثبيته في الحائط ما يجعلها متحركة في نظاق ضيّق، أو تعمل بنظام التبريد بالماء والخلايا الكرتونية ما يتيح لها الحركة الحرة لكن بكفاء أقل بكثير وعيوب أكثر، وتستلزم وحدات التكييف من هذا النوع تزويدها بالماء بشكل دوري والتخلص من الأتربة والترسبات العالقة في الخلايا الكرتونية كذلك، كما أنها غالباً ما تكون باهظة الثمن مقارنة بقوة تبريدها.

جدول أسعار المكيفات في مصر لعام 2021

نوع المكيف وسعة التبريدسعر المكيف في مصر 2021مكيف سبيلت 12000 وحدة / 1 طنتبدأ من 6,650 جنيه وحتى 10,000 جنيه مصري للفئة الممتازة تبدأ من 3,300 جنيه للفئة المتوسطةمكيف سبيلت 18000 وحدة / 1.5 طنتبدأ من 8,850 جنيه مصري للفئة الممتازة تبدأ من 4,450 جنيه مصري للفئة المتوسطةمكيف سبيلت 24000 وحدة / 2 طنمن 13,300 جنيه مصري للفئة الممتازة وحتى 22,150 جنيه مصريأسعار مكيفات انفرتر سبيلتبين 7,750 جنيه وحتى 17,700 جنيه مصريأسعار مكيفات شارب سبيلتبين 12,200 جنيه وحتى 17,700 جنيه مصريأسعار مكيفات جري سبيلتتبدأ من 7,750 جنيه مصريمكيف صحراوي متنقل ماءيبدأ من 1,750 جنيه وحتى 3,300 جنيه مصري

ماذا تعني مقاييس طن التبريد وما هو مقياس ال BTU؟

عند تصفح أنواع مكيفات الهواء المختلفة، غالباً ما تكون نقطة التسويق الأساسية لها هي استطاعة التبريد الخاصة بها، ويعبر عن هذه الاستطاعة بواحدتين أساسيتين هما طن التبريد وواحدة الحرارة البريطانية BTU، ومع كون مفهوم هاتين الواحدتين غائباً عن العديدين فمن المهم شرح معنى كل منهما وطريقة التحويل بينهما.

• طن التبريد: هو مقدار الحرارة التي يتم فقدانها من ذوبان طن أمريكي (يساوي حوالي 907 كيلو غرام) من الجليد خلال مدة 24 ساعة، ويساوي طن التبريد الواحد 12,000 وحدة حرارية بريطانية (BTU).
• الوحدة الحرارية البريطانية (BTU): هي كمية الحرارة اللازمة لرفع حرارة رطل من الماء (حوالي 450 غرام) بمقدار درجة فهرنهايت واحدة (0.555556 درجة مئوية\سلسيوس)، وعادة ما تستخدم كونها مرتبطة بالزمن، فمكيف هواء باستطاعة 5,000 BTU مثلاً، يستطيع خفض حرارة 5,000 رطل من الماء بمقدار درجة فهرنهايت واحدة خلال ساعة.

هذه الوحدات قد تبدو غريبة كونها تعتمد على رفع حرارة الماء، لكن للتبسيط الشديد، فالمكيفات باستطاعة تتراوح بين نصف طن تبريد حتى طن تبريد (6,000 حتى 12,000 BTU) مناسبة لتبريد الغرف المتوسطة حتى الكبيرة منها، فيما يجب استخدام مكيفات باستطاعة تتراوح بين 1 و 2 طن تبريد للصالات الكبيرة، بينما الاستطاعات الأكبر تستخدم لتبريد عدة غرف في نفس الوقت أو حتى لتبريد الشقق الصغيرة بالكامل. مع عدم إغفال فروقات درجة الحرارة وفقا للبلدان المختلفة.

حساب التكييف بالطن لاختيار حجم المكيف المناسب للغرفة

إذا كان كل طن في المكيف يعادل 12000 وحدة، وكل متر مكعب من المساحة يحتاج 300 وحدة لتبريده، فيجب عليك حساب كم تحتاج الغرفة التي تريد تركيب المكيف فيها لتعرف حجم المكيف المناسب للغرفة، وذلك من خلال المعادلة: (ارتفاع الغرفة×الطول×العرض×300) ÷ 12000 على سبيل المثال؛ لحساب المكيف المناسب لغرفة عرضها 4 أمتار وطولها 4 أمتار وارتفاعها 3 أمتار، نستخدم المعادلة التالية: (4×4×3×300) ÷ 12000= 1.2 ما يعني أنك تحتاج لمكيف واحد ونصف طن إذا كانت الغرفة متعددة النوافذ وأنت تعيش في مكان حار نسبياً. لكن إن كانت الغرفة بنافذة واحدة وكان الحرّ معتدلاً فيمكن استبدال وحدة تبريد المتر المكعب الواحد بـ 250 بدلاً من 300، وتصبح المعادلة: (4×4×3×250) ÷ 12000= 1 أي أنك تحتاج لمكيف واحد طن وسيكون فعالاً.📷
طريقة حساب المكيف المناسب للغرفة بالطن

طريقة ثانية لحساب طن المكيف المناسب للغرفة

تقوم الطريقة الثانية لمعرفة المكيف المناسب للغرفة على حساب قدرة التحميل الحراري بالقدم المربع، من خلال المعادلة التالية: (الطول× العرض× 11 للتحويل إلى قدم مربع× 115 قيمة وحدة التبريد الواحدة BTU) ÷12000= المكيف المثالي لحجم الغرفة. على سبيل المثال؛ غرفة بطول 4 أمتار وعرض 4 أمتار يتم حساب حجم المكيف المناسب لها بالمعادلة التالية: (4×4×11×115) ÷ 12000= 1.68 ستحتاج لمكيف 1.5 طن. والفرق بين الطريقتين أن الأولى تم حسابها على المتر المكعب وهي الأكثر دقة، والثانية تم حسابها على القدم المربع دون أخذ الارتفاع بعين الاعتبار.

حساب قدرة المكيف بالحصان

معادلة حساب قدرة المكيف بالحصان تكون من خلال تقسيم الوحدات BTU على 8000، فإذا كان المكيف بقدرة 12000 وحدة BTU -واحد طن- فهو يعادل حصان ونصف، والمكيف 2 طن الذي يساوي 24000 وحدة يعادل 3 حصان.

كيف تختار أفضل نوع مكيف الهواء المناسب لك؟

1. استطاعة أو قدرة التبريد تتفاوت استطاعة المكيفات بشكل كبير حسب نوعها، فبينما تقدم وحدات التكييف المحمولة استطاعات تتراوح من نصف طن حتى طن ونصف من التبريد (مع وجود أنواع كبيرة بالحجم تصل حتى 3 طن)، فتلك التي يتم تركيبها في النافذة نادراً ما تتعدى عتبة طن واحد من التبريد. في هذا المجال تتفوق المكيفات من نوع سبليت مع توافرها باستطاعات تبدأ من نصف طن حتى 4 أطنان تبريد للمكيفات المنزلية، وحتى خيارات أعلى للأنواع المخصصة للأغراض الصناعية. اختيار استطاعة تبريد المكيف أمر هام للغاية عند شراء المكيف، فالاستطاعة عامل مهم للغاية في تحديد سعره، وهنا يجدر ذكر أن طن التبريد عادة ما يكون فعالاً في المساحات حتى 20 متراً مربعاً في الأماكن المعتدلة و12 متراً مكعباً في المناطق الحارّة، ويتم قياس الاستطاعة اللازمة تبعاً للمساحة المطلوب تكييف هوائها، علماً أن مكيفات الهواء الخاصة بالنوافذ فعالة للغرف الصغيرة والمتوسطة، فيما لا تستطيع المحمولة تبريد الصالات المتوسطة حتى، أما لمساحات أكبر فالخيار يصبح محصوراً بالمكيفات من نوع سبليت المكونة من وحدتين.
2. استهلاك الطاقة الكهربائية مع كون الطاقة الكهربائية باهظة الثمن بشكل كبير، ومع كون أنظمة التكييف واحدة من أكبر مستهلكات الطاقة، فاختيار وحدة تكييف هواء ذات استهلاك مخفض من شأنه أن يوفر المال على المدى البعيد، ويجعل شراء مكيف باهظ الثمن لكن باستهلاك قليل للطاقة أوفر مادياً من شراء مكيف أرخص لكن يتطلب طاقة كهربائية أكثر.
3. مستوى الضجيج الداخلي على الرغم من التطور الكبير في تقنيات التبريد، فلا يمكن حتى الآن الحصول على مكيف هواء صامت تماماً، ومع كون الخيارات المتاحة تصدر أصواتاً تتراوح بين 18 و60 ديسبل، فاختيار الوحدات ذات مستوى الضجيج الأدنى له أفضلية كبيرة من حيث الراحة وقلة التشويش. كما أن بعض المكيفات تمتلك برامج خاصة بوضع النوم تجعل المكيف أقل فعالية، لكن أقل صوتاً كذلك لتسمح بالنوم بعمق دون إزعاج. عموماً تعد المكيفات من نوع Split أقل المكيفات ضجيجاً، فمع كون الضاغط موضوعاً خارج المنزل، يبقى الصوت الوحيد ناتجاً عن وحدة المبادلة الحرارية الداخلية.
4. سهولة الفك والتركيب مع كون مكيفات الهواء تقسم إلى 3 أنواع أساسية، فتركيبها متفاوت بشكل كبير، فالوحدات المحمولة مثلاً لا تتطلب أي تركيب عادةً سوى مد خرطوم هواءٍ إلى النافذة القريبة. أما المكيفات التي يتم تركيبها في النوافذ فتحتاج لخطوات أعقد قليلاً، حيث يجب وضعها بشكل مناسب مع الحاجة أحياناً لوضع قواعد إسناد في الخارج لتحمل وزنها، لكنها عموماً قابلة للتركيب من قبل المستخدم دون صعوبات كبيرة. مكيفات الهواء من نوع سبليت تتطلب غالباً استخدام مختصٍ لتركيبها، فهي تحتاج لوصل خراطيم وأنابيب عدة من الداخل للخارج مع الحاجة لتثبيتها ببراغي ولقاعدة تحمل الجزء الخارجي منها. من المهم ذكر أن بعض المباني تحظر تركيب أي وحدات تكييف خارجية لأسباب جمالية أو لخطر سقوطها في حال لم تثبت جيداً، لذلك يجب التأكد من القوانين المتبعة في المبنى قبل شراء وحدة تكييف من هذا النوع.
5. قابلية العمل في وضعي التدفئة والتبريد على الرغم من أن مكيفات الهواء تستخدم غالباً لأغراض التبريد بالدرجة الأولى، فمن الممكن استخدامها كذلك لأغراض التدفئة، حيث أثبتت جدارتها في الأمر حتى أنها تعد أوفر من ناحية الطاقة من بعض الوسائل الأخرى كالمدافئ الكهربائية مثلاً. معظم مكيفات الهواء المحمولة والتي تركب في النوافذ لا تدعم خيار التدفئة، فيما يفيد اعتماد مكيفات الهواء من نوع سبليت على ضواغط هواء لتكييف الهواء في كونها فعالة لحالات التبريد والتدفئة في معظم الحالات. لكن مع كون بعض الطرازات تدعم التبريد فقط، فمن الأفضل التأكد من مركز البيع من كون المكيف يعمل في الوضعين في حال الرغبة باستخدامه للتدفئة كذلك.
6. التحكم بالرطوبة والفلترة غالباً ما تنتج مكيفات الهواء التي يتم تركيبها بالنوافذ وتلك المحمولة هواء رطباً مناسباً للبيئة الصحراوية بشكل أكبر، مما يجعلها مناسبة للغاية في الأجواء ذات الرطوبة المنخفضة. بالمقابل فالمكيفات من نوع سبليت تنتج هواء قليل الرطوبة عادةً وتكون مثالية في الأماكن ذات الرطوبة المرتفعة وخصوصاً المناطق الساحلية. الأنواع الحديثة من المكيفات اليوم تتيح تحكماً محدوداً برطوبة الهواء الخارج منها حيث تقوم بزيادة أو إنقاص رطوبته حسب الحاجة، علماً أن الهواء الرطب يعني فعالية تبريد أكبر، بينما الهواء الجاف يعطي إحساساً أكثر راحةً وحتى سرعة تبريد أكبر عند التشغيل. الناحية الأخرى المهمة هي قدرة المكيف على فلترة وتنقية الهواء الداخل إليه، هذه الخاصية تصبح مهمة بشكل كبير في البيئة الصحراوية حيث الغبار الكثير أو في بيئات المدن، حيث يؤدي دخان السيارات والمصانع إلى تلوث كبير للهواء. خواص تنقية الهواء مهمة كونها تقلل الأضرار الصحية للهواء الخارجي الملوث، كما أن الهواء المفلتر يساعد في تحسن صحة المصابين بالربو والأمراض والحساسيات التنفسية.
7. خدمة ما بعد البيع مع كون مكيفات الهواء تصنع لتدوم لسنوات طويلة، بالإضافة لحاجتها للصيانة الدورية (يفضل إجراء صيانة بعد كل 4 أشهر من الاستخدام)، فمن المهم الحصول على كفالة من البائع لضمان عدم التعطل بفعل العيوب المصنعية، كما أن خدمة الزبائن الجيدة أمر ضروري نظراً للحاجة المستمرة للصيانة.

نصائح يمكن أن تستفيد منها قبل أن تشتري مكيف الهواء

قبل الإقدام على شراء مكيف هواء واستثمار مبلغ مالي كبير، فمن الأفضل أخذ المعايير السابقة بعين الحسبان من ناحية، كما أن النصائح التالية تساعد بشكل كبير في الحصول على أفضل النتائج:

1. مع كون مكيفات الهواء تستخدم لسنوات عديدة، استثمر مالك بشراء مكيف من النوع الجيد لتوفير الجهد وحتى المال مستقبلاً.
2. حاول الحصول على المكيفات ذات أقل استهلاك ممكن للطاقة (دون التضحية باستطاعة التبريد)، فهذه المكيفات ستوفر المال عن طريق تقليل استهلاك الكهرباء مما يجعلها أرخص فعلياً مع مرور الوقت.
3. حاول الحصول على أطول مدة كفالة ممكنة (حتى لو كلفتك المزيد)، فمكيفات الهواء ليست سلعاً رخيصة يمكن استبدالها بسهولة، مما يزيد من أهمية الكفالة الطويلة للمنتج.
4. لا تشتري مكيف هواءٍ باستطاعة أكبر من حاجتك، فالاستطاعة الأكبر تعني صرفاً أكبر للطاقة وسعراً أعلى بطبيعة الحال، لذلك من الأفضل أن تشتري الحد الأدنى من طاقة التبريد التي تلبي احتياجاتك الأساسية.
5. إن لم يكن هناك مشكلة في تركيب وحدة خارجية، فأنت أفضل حالاً بشرائك لمكيف هواء من نوع سبليت كونه أقل صرفاً للطاقة وإصداراً للضجيج، وغالباً ما يكون فعالاً في وضعي التدفئة والتبريد.

في النهاية، مع تراوح أسعار المكيفات المتاحة في السوق بين 5,500 جنيهاً وصولاً لأسعار أعلى من 33,000 جنيه، فعملية الشراء يجب أن يسبقها تحضير وبحث كافٍ مع تصفح الأنواع المتاحة ومقارنة مواصفاتها وإيجابياتها وسلبياتها، فتحقيق النوع الأكثر مناسبة للحاجة ضمن السعر المقبول والمناسب يتطلب منك أن تكون لبيباً في اختيارك للمنتج.

Fourth and final part; back to the usual post schedule from tomorrow.
Previous Chapter - Read 10 weeks ahead on Patreon - Read the story so far on Royal Road
*
Chapter Twelve - The Blacksmith's Boy (Part Four)
​
‘Should’ve listened, stray.’
The first blow caught Cal across the cheek, whipping his head back with a crack. Light exploded around the edges of his eyes, and his vision spun. The second took him under the chin, hard as a hammer, and his legs vanished from under him. His world tumbled into a crash of scattered chairs and tables, and half-empty mugs went clattering across the floor, throwing foam into the smoky air like sea-spray.
‘Shit-’
‘Watch it, runt-’
‘By the Makers, what are you-’
The other villagers were surging to their feet, roused from their bickering, but not fast enough. Cal somehow managed to regain his feet in time to find Petr advancing on him, fists bunched and face like thunder. Behind him, Carel was clawing at his arms, trying to hold him back, but he shrugged her off, then swatted Lokk to one side as the slender innkeep’s son tried to bar his path, sending him skittering into a row of chairs. Cal’s head was spinning, and his eyes blurred.
‘I’m not done with you, you little shit.’ Petr growled, closing the ground between them with big angry strides. Cal swayed, dazed. His body was on fire. He couldn’t move. The youth’s heavy fist slammed into his gut, and he doubled over, air rushing out of his chest in a choked gasp. Someone managed to get between them then. Three someones, hauling Petr back. Cal crumpled to his knees, retching emptily onto the ale-splattered floor.
‘That’s enough, boy!’
‘Cunt had it coming-’
‘Enough, Petr! He’s ‘ad enough.’
Cal blinked up at them groggily, spittle trailing from his aching mouth. Forley and Godry had Petr by one arm, the miners by the other, struggling to hold him back. Albin hadn’t moved. He was sitting by the fire where he had been, a crooked smile on his lips. Cal squinted, eyes reeling, mouth full of bile.
‘The fuck is going on?’
The Innkeep was standing by the bar, a fresh cask under one arm, rosy cheeks suddenly hard. Petr stopped struggling, shrugging himself out of the patrons’ grasp.
‘Little cunt tried to hit me.’ He told the Innkeep with a snort. He jabbed a finger at Cal where he knelt on the floor, gasping mutely for air. Lokk appeared at his side, helping him unsteadily to his feet. The slender youth was looking a little shaken, and there was a small, red cut at his brow. ‘Had it coming!’
Cal’s breath was coming back, and the room around him was steadying. He saw Carel standing a little back from them, hair scattered messily over her wet cheeks. As he looked, she caught his eye for a moment, then looked away, face hidden in the shadows of her sandy hair. The pail of water was on its side nearby, steaming as its contents spread slowly across the sopping floor.
‘I don’t give a damn if he bedded your mother!’ The Innkeep replied. He took one look at Carel and set down the cask on the bar, stepping in close enough for the big youth to smell the pipe-smoke on his breath. ‘There’ll be no fighting, in my inn*.*’
Petr flinched in spite of himself, taking half a step back.
‘Boy’s right, Goran.’ Albin added, scowling. ‘Saw the whole thing. Little runt started-’
‘That’s enough!’ The Innkeep cut him short, turning an angry eye on the butcher. ‘Unless you want to tell the blacksmith whose son’s been beating his hand?’
Albin hesitated at that, and his ruddy cheeks lost a little of their colour.
‘Thought not.’ The Innkeep went on. ‘Now, get out. And take your fool son with you.’
Albin was out of his seat in an instant, all thoughts of the Blacksmith forgotten.
‘Alb, wait-’
The butcher shoved Forley aside. He stopped just a few inches from the Innkeep, glaring down at the smaller man with hard eyes. Even from where he was, Cal could smell the ale on his breath, but the Innkeep didn’t flinch. The fire stirred in the sudden quiet, and the villagers stood in a moment of perfect stillness, taut as a lute-string. Godry and Forley shared a worried look. Priss had appeared beside Carel and put an arm around her slumped shoulders. Petr was glaring at Cal, dark eyes boring holes into his forehead, but Cal didn’t even notice. His head was hanging limply over his chest, and if Lokk hadn’t been holding him, he was sure his legs would’ve buckled. His head spun, and his skin burned. Neither the butcher nor the Innkeep had moved an inch.
‘Come on, boy.’ Albin said at last, eyes not leaving the Innkeep for a moment. ‘Let’s go.’
‘But da-’
‘I said let’s go.’
He held still for a moment longer, then took his son by the arm and led him roughly away towards the door.
‘You’ll pay double next time.’ The Innkeep called out to him as he reached the door. ‘Both of you.’
For a moment it looked as if Albin would turn back. Then he scowled, spat on the floor, and shoved his son out into the night beyond the door, slamming it shut behind them.
There was a collective sigh of relief from the remaining patrons. The Innkeep watched the door for a few moments, then began unhurriedly scooping up discarded mugs from the ale-splashed floor.
‘I think that’s enough for one evening.’ He said quietly as he worked, not looking up. Godry, Forley and the miners looked at each other.
‘Bar’s a mess, Goran. We’ll lend a hand.’ Forley offered.
‘We’ll manage.’ The Innkeep told him, still not looking up. The villagers exchanged another look, then they made for the door without a word. Priss stepped back from Carel, giving her shoulder a squeeze, and joined her husband as the door swung closed behind them. Lokk didn’t say a word. Carel still hadn’t lifted her eyes. Cal shrugged himself away from his friend’s arm, taking a step towards her.
‘Carel, I-’
The Innkeep straightened suddenly, hurling one of the mugs across the room. It smashed into the closed door, shattering across the threshold with a crash.
‘Don’t you dare, boy.’ He growled, whirling on him, soft eyes hard as steel, fidgeting hands steady. ‘You’ve had a fall tonight. Must’a knocked your head. Only reason you aren’t catching another beating.’
Cal looked back at him groggily for a moment. His wits were returning, and the ache was spreading outwards from his jaw and cheek in throbbing waves. His shredded arms and legs were afire with shifting lines of pain, and his back ground at his ribs like a blade. Stupid. What was he thinking? Running from shadows in the dark. Brawling in front of half the village. What would the Blacksmith say? This was not their agreement. This was not their word. Blood rushed into his cheeks, hot with shame, and he lowered his eyes.
‘Go home, boy.’
‘But, I-’
‘I said go home, boy.’ The Innkeep stared back at him with cold eyes. ‘You can’t stay here.’
Cal hesitated. He looked at Lokk, but his friend would not meet his eye. He nodded slowly, straightening as best he could, and made unsteadily for the door. He looked back from the threshold, but nothing had stirred. A mess of upturned tables and chairs, scattered mugs and soaking floor boards. The three figures that stood frozen amongst it all seemed suddenly very different to Cal, their names new and unfamiliar. No one looked up as he opened the door. He hesitated, skin bloody and numb, jaw aching like winter, haggard, dazed, and spared one final glance for Carel, standing alone beside the bar, a dozen words racing on his silent tongue. Then he turned and went out alone into the dark, and the cold took him as its own.
*
It was quiet outside the Nest, and the streets were empty. The storm had moved off to blow itself out over the lowlands in the west, and only the faintest whir of it carried on the air between the little stone buildings of Rindon, the fevered mumbling of weary hills. Cal walked for a time, going nowhere in particular, dry eyes moving listlessly over the stones, picking out the familiar notches of the rock, the knowing winking of shuttered fires. The pathways were wet beneath his boots, puddled and gleaming in the silver stain of the moon. No one to be seen. Not Petr, waiting for him behind some dark corner, nor the other patrons, staggering home arm in arm. No faceless shadows leering at him from empty doorways, chasing him into the night. All was as it should be. After all, why wouldn’t it be? The thought filled him with a kind of bemused, frivolous amusement. He knew this place. Why should it not be as it always was?
After a time, he found himself at the eastern edge of the village, looking down over the little cluster of thatching and its glinting windows. It was cold, he knew, but he did not feel it. The bloody skin beneath his ragged clothes tingled numbly. Even his jaw seemed to have stopped aching. He looked down, for no reason in particular, and saw that the dirt at his feet was churned and dented as though by some falling beast, and little flecks of red blinked back at him in the moonlight. He realised that this must have been where he had fallen. Where his legs had failed and the world had spun like sand in ocean spray. Where the shadows had chased him from the hillside, swarming after him as wolves after their prey. He realised he was frowning. His back was to the trees, but he felt no fear. What was there to fear? After all, it was just a dream, and there is nothing to fear from dreams.
The trees were before him. Had they not been behind? The dark pillars stretched away up the slope, and the great black shadow of the Teeth held the horizon beyond. The murmur of the distant storm moved through the branches, shifting softly. Nothing else stirred.
He realised he was walking. The trees were all around, watching him. The earth was soft and wet beneath his feet. He looked down as he went, picking out the footprints in the loam. Something had come this way. Bootprints, scrambling, sprinting, falling. He had come this way.
So he walked, much as he had before, aiming without aim, and the trees whispered their same whispers. Words he had known since he first came here, all those years ago. Slowly, he went, until his eyes grew accustomed to the dimness, to the silver luminescence of the moon. Footprints. Bootprints. Running, scrambling. Falling.
Alone.
He lingered a while, just to be sure. But there was no mistake. There had been no men in the trees. No shadows to flee from. No one else had come this way. His head ached. He could not have… there must have been…
But there was nothing. Nothing but untouched earth, smooth as fresh wax. Just a dream. And there is nothing to fear from dreams.
So he came down out of the trees, and made for home along well-worn paths, watching for shadows he knew were not there.

Not sure if this is the best place to ask.. basically I moved to Apple but miss gaming on Android. I also have a ton of credit left that I could use to buy games n stuff.
I don’t need an Android phone, so are there any other Android devices that support AA games? I mainly play Mirrorverse and COD:Mobile … I’ve tried emulators like Bluestacks and an Android TV device and both of those games are missing (amongst others) due to not being compatible.
Are there any other ways I can play these Android games ?
I have plenty of devices I can use if it’s possible to install Android: old MacBook Air, iPhone, Firestick, Raspberry Pi, Android TV box, old windows laptop, Nintendo Switch .. if none are suitable, what are my options ?
Failing that, what is the cheapest phone I can buy to comfortably run emulators and Mirrorverse/COD.

Okay, I have had my CPU, 13900ks since January, on a Corsair h170i Elite Capellix, well I decided I wanted to do an RGB aesthetic upgrade to the case, so I bought ThermalTake ToughFans RGB and the ThermalTake ToughLiquid Ultra RGB 420 and installed them.
Temps seemed fine, and I never had an issue with overheating with the h170i, I could run benchmarks on stock and a 5.7ghz OC and it would never get to thermal throttle territory.
So I installed the new AiO and temps seem good, no benchmarks ran. Well the last week I've noticed a slight uptick in idle temps, from around 38/39 to 43/44 which I figured was due to the change in ambient air.
Playing games, operates just fine, gets like 65-68c which is perfectly fine, but I also noticed at idle the temps would temporarily sporadically jump anywhere from 50-80c for seconds at a time which it never use to do either .
I hadn't benchmarked the CPU or anything since I got the new pump, bit last night was doing some tweaking and undervolting on my 5.7 OC, and booted into windows to just run a simple cinebench run, well INSTANTLY it jumps to 100c and will run like that for 2-3: minutes before the system throttles cinebench to not run anything over 65% load.
Went into bios loaded optimized defaults, rebooted and even on a stock clock 13900ks, boom instant 100c, fluid temp shows like 35 constantly, and pink shows it's working in bios at 3200rpm. But even on stock clock and synthetic benchmark that puts 10/% loadon the CPU instantly takes it to 100c.
I took the AiO off 3 times and repasted it 3 different ways and checked patterns and it's fully covered in the areas that matter, so I don't think it's the contact of the CPU and pump head.
I just know previously I didn't have this issue with the h170i, and I didn't bother running any benchmarks until yesterday, because I had ran them before, and the AiO seems to perform normally under any load that isn't 100% constantly or a synthetic benchmark.
The tubes of the AiO are vibrating when I touch them couldn't really tell if they were getting warm, but I'm still confused, but I'm hoping it's just a bad pump.
I don't think it would be anything like a bad CPU as I never had issues until now, but again only under. What seems like 100% load of the CPU.

Some back story:
My boyfriend and I live in a ground floor one-bedroom apartment in a pretty crowded complex. I'm originally from a large city so I'm not used to living with neighbors where everyone is constantly nosing into everyone's business and it's been difficult for me to adjust to this. My boyfriend, who grew up around here, has been imminently more tolerant.
We have an incredibly adorable cat who shares our living space but is kept indoors. Because she is an indoor cat, we often leave the front window open which has a screen on it so she can get fresh air and yell at the squirrels. The screen slides open so we generally only leave the window open when we're in the room to keep an eye on her. I should also mention that Ive been studying for an important exam that I'm taking this Friday that I have to pass in order to graduate.
Like I said, I've gotten accustomed to the fact that this complex may as well have its own tabloid, but what really irks me is when people come up to our window. I'm extremely protective of my privacy and it makes me feel uncomfortable for people to randomly appear at my window unexpectedly. They do this because of the cat. They talk to her or sometimes tap on the screen. I've mentioned to my boyfriend more than once that it really irritates me and I feel like him knowing this may have motivated what came next.
So, the incident:
Yesterday afternoon, our directly next door neighbor's niece, a younger girl, came up to the window while my boyfriend and I were in the front room. I was studying and he was at his desk. She started tapping on the screen and when my boyfriend heard this he turned around and called over to the window, "Please don't touch my window."
Later on that day, he was confronted by the neighbor's grown son who insisted that the girl was just looking at the cat and "wasn't going to touch the window" (although she already had). Then, this morning, my neighbor herself also confronted my boyfriend and said that the girl "just liked cats," to which my boyfriend replied, "I understand and I like cats too, but I wouldn't go up to someone's window with a cat in it and start tapping on it. It's my apartment and I don't want people tapping on my window." He also explained how I was in there trying to study.
My neighbor's response to this was to give a weird chuckle and say, "How neighborly." After her comment she then walked away, leaving my boyfriend and I wondering, are we the assholes for not wanting people coming up to our window, standing at it, tapping on it, etc.?
tl;dr: My boyfriend politely asked my neighbor's younger family member to not touch our window (which she did because our cat was sitting in it); my neighbor has implied with a well-placed comment that she thinks we're assholes for not feeling comfortable with people tapping on our window. Am I the asshole here?

I wanted to return to writing. I really did. But something always stopped me from doing that. Partying with my brothers and other stalkers, hunting dangerous mutants, trading with trustworthy and shady merchants, doing strange missions or just my own laziness. Not anymore.
Yep, it’s still Plagued who’s writing this miserable thing. Okay, I go hard on myself, because… I have hard time thinking about this, let alone writing about it. Several things changed – some for the better, but some for the worse. One thing at the time.
I remember a mention of a large party that we’d organize in the factory in Agroprom, after dealing with Interception. And we did – the biggest party the Zone ever witnessed. I’m completely certain that at least one hundred stalkers from various factions came to our place. Surprisingly, there weren’t any problems with our guests coming from different groups. I should write about it someday, because few things were out of this world, even by the Zone’s standards. But we gained more fame and respect as Riders.
Yes, Riders… As the name suggests, we should be riding something. We had a car with a horse drawn on it (from this, comes our other name – Horsemen), but we had to sacrifice it, so we could enter the main base of Interception.
From that point, we haven’t had any new vehicle. Quarrel, of course, wanted to have something new, but Craver tricked him and said he became a pussy, if he really needs a car here. Our exo guy, prideful as always, grabbed the bait and he didn’t mention it since then. But I could still see he’d really get one.
Okay… but what we were doing after destroying Interception, aside from parties? I’ll mention more interesting things. One was returning to the Observatory. It shouldn’t be named like that anymore since the main building was in thousands of pieces.
Main objective was to admire the destruction we did, but in peace. However, we’ve found a stalker there. It was the one we knew. We asked him what he was doing here and he said that he has things from the armory of collapsed building (basement was intact).
We told him the story about what he did (emptying two vodka bottles while we were doing it) and said that we could split the share. We agreed – getting out and selling things left in Interception’s armory made us a small fortune. By the Zone’s standards, we were living like the elite.
Another fun entry: we met with Overseer’s group. Well, he is not Overseer anymore, but Razhan. Since we killed their former masters, they could operate in peace. They decided that their experience would be most helpful with hunting mutants. Efficient guys – that’s the least I can say.
And other thing: many stalkers think that mutants are only representants of fauna here. That’s not true. We’ve found legendary fox, named Semyon. Cool little fellow, which Quarrel want to take it for himself. Even if he was treating it with respect, the animal eventually escaped. But exo guy wasn’t that sad and we compensated it with another drinking.
But they are also other animals here – Codex confirmed it. Yes, he got to our party. Dude emptied 0,7l vodka bottle in one attempt, as it was a juice. But then he said that he won’t repeat it again. He’s strong-headed too. I even asked about more info about his faction and provided me just that, but I can’t share it with you. Things like a photo of their best huntress, which looked stunning, but I’m out of her league, considering my ugly as fuck face.
Back to the topic… we saw moving groups of various animals which showed no or little signs of mutations. However, most majestic ones would be groups of mutated horses, called tarks, as well as non-mutated ones – Przewalski’s horses. Craver mentioned that it’d be cool, if we could get them as mounts. One can dream…
They were also dozens of things we did, like winning Arena’s biggest tournament (we opted for team part of it), exploring depths of Rostok, even exploring rarely visited part of the whole complex. But – like I said earlier – some bad things happen too. I’ll mention the worst.
No, it doesn’t mean that any of my brothers died. Hell, even Zrak is in one piece, but Sorrow has a long way to teach it how to talk, because we’ve found out it’s possible (good that we have internet access). It’s worse. We’re getting further apart with each other.
I’ll start with Quarrel – he didn’t want to abandon Irina, like his previous girl, so they started to meet more often. And this I can understand, but for some reason, he started to be more aggressive. We tried to talk to him about this, but because of his attitude, we couldn’t find the source of this problem. He almost even killed Sorrow, but machete swinged a little too high to do anything. So he started seeing her more often, even for days. He looked calm, but we knew that many things could trigger him. On the one hand, it’s sad that he was abandoning us more often, but on the other hand, I was glad when he wasn’t around, because with him, atmosphere became more tense.
Next – Craver. Remember that I mentioned his insatiable appetite? Yes, it got worse. He eats as often as he smokes. Which reminds me… wait a moment, I’ll get my own… much better. Anyway, even if he doesn’t got wider, our funds go down faster because of it, but he doesn’t care and explaining that to him didn’t work, even by force. And he also met his new girl (she’s called Katya Malva, if I remember correctly) on our party, which helped him with returning to mercenaries, specifically to her group led by a guy named Faun, supposedly from Chechnya. People think that there’s only one merc ”faction”, which isn’t entirely true. They work together, but they don’t have one leader. There’s Dushman, but he only leads the biggest one, not all of them.
I already mentioned Sorrow. Did he got better? Nope. I think that because of recent events, he started to feel worse. I figured out that he was envious because of the relationships the other two had (which he confirmed to me, when he was drunk). He also started to drink more. Way more. On top of that, he started to leaving on his own. He was the one who still wanted to talk to me and said that he wants to think about various things, mostly his reason to exist. Sorrow still wants to teach his bird how to talk, but he also knows that Zrak won’t replace us completely, which he said that he wants and doesn’t want to happen at the same time. I can understand him, at least partially.
And what about me? I’m sick. Sick of this shit happening and having no ways to solve it. This has to be one of the worst feelings man can experience. I was re-reading my entries, reminding myself of events we lived through together… I almost lost myself to this dream world, which was more appealing to me than the real world. So I thought to myself that if I can’t work on improving others, I should start improving myself. How to shoot better, how to be faster, stronger, have more endurance… This won’t help with my appearance much, since I didn’t find artifact to make me not ugly, but I feel better physically. Mentally… I’m more of a mess now than I was in Big Land.
We were sitting in big room of Agroprom’s northern factory, where we had all of our stuff and our sleeping bags with bedrolls, all of us doing own things. Shit, I almost forgot. We don’t have Yan with us anymore. What happened? Snout became his good friend and they started going on adventures together. Eventually, they parted ways to do their own things, but I have still contact with him. He says that he’s doing alright. I should find him some day…
Quarrel stood up from the floor and started going in circles, visibly tense. I wanted to ask him about it, but I had to be careful to not make him even more angry. However, our tough guy himself said what was his problem.
”I can’t take this anymore!” – he screamed.
”Woah, Quarrel… what’s the problem?” – Craver asked, eating another chocolate bar.
”I just need having an access to a car. I miss it so much…”
”So you’re a pussy?” – our medic smiled.
”No… or maybe… you can call me however you want, but I’d really kill for having some four wheels.”
”You know… even if it isn’t the safest way to travel, I kind miss it too. We had good memories with our Stallion…”
”Yeah… why did we had to destroy it?”
”Because we had to eliminate Interception.” – I responded.
”We should find another way.”
”Too late for that. And got used to walking everywhere.”
”But you could help us with getting cars, so...”
”So you could abandon us completely?”
”Man, what’s wrong with you?”
”What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” – I asked, angry. - ”You vanish for days, going to Flora or doing something else, but when you return here, you’re just pissed off, treating us like we’re worse than you. Similar to Craver, who seems to enjoy the company of mercs than ours. Because of that, our crew falls apart. Sorrow feels worse and so do I. So I should be asking what happened.”
This was the lighter variant of our more frequent arguments. I was wondering how could this happened so quickly. It’s near the end of May, so little more than two months, since we’ve destroyed Interception. And yet, it feels like way more time has passed since then.
I knew Quarrel was pissed, but I didn’t care at that time. Earlier, he’d back off, if I said the truth. Not anymore. But he didn’t do anything – he didn’t attack me and he didn’t respond to me. Craver looked like he didn’t care and started eating can of beans. Sorrow was turned away from us, looking from the window. Soon, there will be night, so I didn’t understand at first why he was doing that. But he explained himself.
”Guys?”
”What is it, brother?” – I asked with calm.
”We have company.”
All of us came to the window. My brother passed me binoculars. He was right – I saw several dozens of soldiers, which most likely came from the southern base. Not only that, but they had four helicopters accompanying them. Things looked bad, but I wanted others to see that as well.
”Huh… more like platoon to me rather than company.” – Quarrel commented. - ”But still… we should have any problems with… Hey! Where are you going?”
We were smarter than our brother. Maybe – I really mean ”maybe” – we could kill the offensive, if it was alone, but it had choppers and we aren’t rich in anti-air defense. So we decided to pack up and escape when we had a chance.
”Too many of them at once.” – I replied. - ”We should find other hideout.”
”Guys, you seriously want to go without a fight?”
I placed items on the floor. Then, I grabbed RPG standing in the corner (it was the one we took from Interception’s armory) and got to the window. I quickly aimed and fired at one of military helicopters. Soon after, it crashed on the nearby tree, but didn’t do any damage to infantry.
”There. We are going with enemy casualties.” – I stated. – ”You go with us or continue to be a moron?”
”Huh…” – Quarrel chuckled. - ”Okay, I’ll grab the crates. No need to get you more tired.”
”But where should we go?” – Craver asked, while he was collecting items.
”I suggest going to Irina. There’s enough place for all of us and I’ll have her and you close together.”
”Hmm… and it’s closer to abandoned cities – Dead City and Limansk.”
”Yep. And what about you, brothers?”
”Okay.” – me and Sorrow replied.
So we quickly grabbed almost all of our items, not including trash and escaped the factory before soldiers could do anything to us. Upside to this was easier access to weed, which Craver also likes. But how will life there look like? That remained to be seen.

One hundred and forty-nine stairs. That’s how many there are to get up to the fire tower I’m posted at. I used to think getting up there meant safety. Now, I’m hoping it just means survival.
Climbing one hundred and forty-nine steps when you’re healthy is no small feat. When one of your legs has been torn to shreds, you’re bleeding from many places and you’re trying to get up there to wrap it, hoping there’s enough bandages so you don’t bleed to death, it’s a lot more difficult.
Then there are the stairs themselves which also count as a hazard when you have to hop up each one, causing pain to shoot through your injured leg. The stairs are skinny enough as they are, but the closer you get to the top, the smaller they get.
How do I know the exact number of steps? I counted them. I also counted which ones I miscalculated my jump, or brushed my foot against the step, or did something else that nearly sent me sailing over the rickety railing to my untimely death. The first time was one step number three, then fifteen, thirty-seven was a bad one, fifty-two, one oh seven, one-twenty, and finally one-forty-three. I guess it’s a good thing I’m deathly afraid of heights.
By now you may have figured out, I’m a park ranger. How did I end up playing this deadly game of hopscotch? It started a week ago when I got the job.
I was super excited, because I love working alone, and I love nature. What other job blends those two so well?
That excitement waned quite a bit when I arrived at the tower on my first day and looked up at those tiny metal steps I would have to climb to get to my job. The whole thing looked about as sturdy as if someone had built it with an erector set. I mean honestly, seeing surface rust on stairs that have to support your weight is terrifying, and I had to wonder how much I would be swaying when the wind really kicked up.
I wanted to close my eyes and just run up, but I didn’t dare. I paid attention to every single step, watching the metal bow under the weight of my foot, white-knuckling the railings as I went.
Finally, I reached the top and knocked on the trapdoor that had to be opened to let me in. I met the ranger who would be training me. His name was Bob, and he looked every bit how I envision a park ranger would look. Tall and thin, wiry but not scrawny, with a five o’clock shadow because he never had the time to shave properly.
Bob was one of those guys who seemed to always have a smirk on their face like they’ve just been told the greatest joke of all time, but they don’t want to let you in on it.
He spent the entire shift showing me around and then boring me to tears with all the little details of working in a fire tower. The place wasn’t bad. I was expecting an empty room with a card table and a radio, but this was nice. It reminded me of a small apartment or the inside of a small RV. There was a kitchenette with a microwave, sink, and minifridge. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and most importantly, there was a bathroom.
At one point I thought there would be an outhouse at the base of the tower I would have to use. The thought of going down all those steps while holding number one or especially number two was something I didn’t even want to have nightmares about.
Just before the end of the shift, the next ranger came up. His name was Toby.
Toby looked nothing like I envisioned rangers looking like. He was overweight but made up for it by being under tall. He had a look of mischief in his eyes like a seventh grader who had just dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and was trying to walk away looking nonchalant.
He smiled and shook my hand.
“So did Bob bore you to tears?” he said.
“Not quite to tears,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a good trainer,” Bob said looking offended yet still wearing that grin.
“Did you tell him everything?” Toby said.
“Pretty sure,” Bob said.
“Did you tell him about?” Toby leaned closer and whispered something in Bob’s ear that I couldn’t hear.
Bob’s grin grew.
“No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Maybe we should wait until he’s done training,” Toby said.
“What?” I said looking back and forth between them.
“We’ll tell you once you’re done job shadowing,” Bob said with that infuriating grin.
When we left, I was so focused on what they weren’t telling me, I nearly missed the first step and plunged to my death.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to focus on those steps,” Bob said. “We had a coworker get hurt really bad because of them.”
“Is he ok now?”
Bob looked away.
Toby came over and volunteered, “He’s dead.”
That was definitely what I wanted to hear.
The next few days were a blur. Between total boredom with reading the procedure book and Bob grinning all the while refusing to tell me the big secret, I was getting super frustrated. I couldn’t wait for my first night working alone.
At least I had brought some supplies up to keep in the tower. Some snacks, a few books, and a tablet to make some notes on if I started writing a story.
Finally, the night came. I was working on my own for the first time. Surprisingly, Bob’s smile vanished as he told me.
“Did you ever read anything off of Reddit?” he said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t really read much other than books.”
“Sign up for Reddit, then go to the nosleep subreddit and look for a story called, ‘I was a park ranger stationed in a fire tower. It had a strange set of rules.’ Read that. It’ll tell you what to do.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s the big secret? Read someone’s made-up story?”
“It might seem made up,” he said. “But trust me, follow the rules.”
I tried to read his expression to see if he was messing with me or not. In the five days I’d known him, there was never a time he wasn’t wearing that stupid grin, until now. His face was serious as a heart attack.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll look it up later on my phone.”
“You really should do it as soon as I leave.”
“Ok.”
“Good luck.”
He stepped over to the door and went down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away.
“What the hell was that about?”
I stood in the middle of the room looking out at the beautiful trees, but not even seeing them. My mind was occupied by what Bob had said.
“It has to be a prank,” I said to the empty room. “Bob and Toby cooked this up to scare me on my first night. Well, I’m not falling for it.”
I did my first round of walking around on the outside walkway, looking for any sign of fires. We worked twelve-hour shifts, so I was working from seven am to seven pm. It was late summer and still warm enough to go without a jacket, at least on my first round. By the time I got to my fourth round, there was a chill in the air. I started doing my rounds from the inside and made a mental note to bring a jacket with me tomorrow.
It seemed odd to be talking about a jacket in late summer, but in the forest, the temperatures can vary wildly. It could be thirty degrees at night and eighty during the day.
I stepped back inside and saw my phone had lit up with a text message. I looked at it and it was Bob.
‘Did you read the rules yet?’
‘No,’ I texted back.
‘You don’t have much time.’
I knew this was a joke, it had to be a joke. The old timers pulling a fast one on the new guy, jerking his chain a little.
‘I’ll get right on it,’ I texted.
‘You better.’
I put my phone down and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after ten. Outside was now completely dark, creating a very disconcerting illusion where when I would look outside, all I saw was my reflection. I decided to turn some lights off and go with just the bare minimum. That reduced the reflection some and I could see some trees outside.
I did a slow pan around, then grabbed a bag of chips and a soda, sat down, and worked on a crossword puzzle. That only lasted a half hour until I was bored with it. I picked up a book and started to read.
I woke sometime later, with my head resting on the back of the chair, chip crumbs all over my shirt, and the book laying on the floor.
I stretched and looked over at the clock. It read two-thirteen.
I jumped up, flinging the bag of chips to the floor, realizing I’d missed several checks, then ran around the room staring out at the trees. After my quick lap, I took a breath and did another slower lap to make sure there was no smoke. Thank God, there was none.
I chided myself for falling asleep on duty like that as I cleaned up my mess. I decided I should set an hourly alarm on my phone so that wouldn’t happen again.
When I picked up the phone I noticed there was a series of texts from Bob.
‘Did you read it yet?’
‘Why aren’t you answering?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Don’t open the door for any reason.’
The last one sent chills down my spine.
Why would I open the door in the middle of the night?
As I was thinking this, another text came in.
‘For the love of God, read it!’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he seriously losing sleep for a stupid joke?
I decided I would humor him and read the story. I opened my phone and went to the Reddit site. I had just signed up and put my information in when I heard static over the radio. I stepped to the receiver and checked it. Static blared out of it, making me jump as I heard a faint voice in it.
“Tower seven, do you read me?” I heard from a voice I could barely hear through the static.
I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if this was tower seven or not.
“Tower seven do you read me?” the voice said sounding a little more desperate.
I picked up the mic and keyed it.
“This is tower seven, go ahead.”
“It’s good to hear you tower seven,” the voice said suddenly clear. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Well, here I am, awake and alert, answering you,” I said. “What did you need?”
“I already have what I need,” the voice said sounding like it was chuckling. “I’d like to come visit if that’s alright.”
“Tower seven, this is base, who are you talking to?”
“I don’t know, someone on the radio,” I said into the mic.
“Seven, there’s no one else on this channel,” base said.
I got chills for a moment. What did that mean? How was I hearing someone that base couldn’t? Why would someone be calling now? Then it hit me that the base dispatcher was probably in on the joke too.
“Ok, base, maybe it was just some random transmission.”
“Tower seven,” the voice said. “Am I alright to come from a visit?”
I hesitated for a moment. What if it wasn’t a joke? Who the hell is walking through the forest at two thirty in the morning?
“Maybe we’ll do that visit another time,” I said.
“Visit?” base said. “What visit? Seven, you know it’s against policy to have visitors.”
“Yeah, sorry, base, I won’t be letting anyone visit.”
More static came over the radio. I could swear I could hear someone say something in the middle of it.
It sounded like, “We’ll see.”
I put down the mic and picked up my phone to read the story when I saw something off in the distance. It was a light, but it was hovering, like a helicopter. I switched my phone to camera mode, zoomed in, and took a picture. It was weird because the light was blue. I didn’t think helicopters had blue lights on them. Also, this light wasn’t flashing, it was solid the whole time. It came closer and I took another picture.
It floated even closer. It was mesmerizing. There was no sound. No hum, no whirring of tiny blades keeping it afloat like a drone, nothing. It was about the size of a basketball and glowing the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen. I reached out for it and it backed away from my hand. I took a step closer to the edge of the walkway, reaching out as far as my arm could stretch.
It backed away a few inches, just out of reach. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing against the railing trying to touch it. It moved away another inch.
I reached the tipping point and pinwheeled my arms to regain my balance and shove back against the railing.
I fell onto the walkway, landing hard on my backside and hitting the back of my head against the window. I looked up and the light was gone.
I shook my head, painfully stood up, and went back inside. I didn’t want to do a patrol but figured I’d better. After a slow walk around, I collapsed in the chair and set my alarm to go off in an hour.
After sitting there for a few minutes I could feel myself nodding off, so I opened my phone and started reading the story. After about ten minutes, I lowered my phone, eyes wide, hands shaking.
“It can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s just a joke.”
I scrolled back through the story and re-read the rules.

1. Never, under any circumstances, leave the fire tower until you are relieved.
   
2. Turn off all lights between the hours of 2 and 3 am.
   
3. If you receive a radio transmission or phone call between those hours, do not answer.
   
4. If anyone knocks on the trapdoor during those hours tell them they’ll have to wait until morning. Do not open the door.
   
5. If you see a glowing object floating toward the tower, don’t look at it. Cover your eyes and count to 50. When you open your eyes it should be gone. If not, cover and count to 50 again.
   
6. If animals surround the tower don’t go down to look. Fire your flare gun into the air twice one minute apart, then lock yourself in the bathroom and hope for the best.
   My skepticism started to waver. How could they have known about those things, unless…
   

There was a powerful banging at the trapdoor that made me jump.
“Who is it?” I said.
No one answered.
I minute later, the pounding resumed. I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Digging through the silverware drawer and finding an old, dull, paring knife, I backed as far away from the trapdoor as possible while staying inside. The pounding repeated. Somehow through the fear that coursed through my veins, I found my voice.
“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” I said.
“But I’m here now tower,” said the voice from the radio. “Let… me… in... ”
The last three words changed from asking to demanding. The voice also became deeper and more menacing.
I didn’t answer. I just slid down to the floor and hugged my knees holding the knife in front of me, silently searching through the story on my phone to see if there was something I missed, some way I could remedy the situation. But there was nothing, and the end of the story didn’t give me much hope.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the pounding continued now mixed with the voice that was going back and forth between pleading and threatening. It whispered then it screamed. It sound like a young boy, then it sounded demonic.
I rocked back and forth trying to keep some measure of sanity as the assault continued. I began to wonder how long the trapdoor would hold before whatever it was broke through.
Then suddenly it stopped.
As happy as I was that there was no more pounding and yelling, I didn’t trust it. My entire body was on pins and needles. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The fire tower shook. It felt like an earthquake, only different. I stood and went out to the walkway to see what was happening. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe it. The tower was surrounded by animals of all kinds. Deer, squirrels, bears, moose, any forest animal you could imagine, and even a couple I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
As I leaned over watching this strange menagerie, a moose rammed into one of the tower’s legs. It sent a shockwave through the entire metal framework. By the time it got up to me the tower was shaking so hard it made me lose my balance.
I toppled over the edge and fell. I threw my arm out attempting to catch the rail, but only touched it with my fingertips.
I knew I was falling to my death, there was no doubt. The wind rushing in my ears didn’t drown out the sound of my screaming. It sounded odd like I was listening to someone else scream. I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when the end was coming.
Suddenly something hit me hard in the ribs. I looked and I had hit a tree limb, but it didn’t stop me. The branch broke sending me falling again until I hit another branch. This one tore a gash on my leg as I flipped head over heels and fell again. The next branch grazed my head and made me see stars. I bounced off another branch hitting my shoulder, then took one to the knee, and landed flat on my back on the ground.
I lay there dazed, injured, but alive and surprised to be so. As I tried to regain my bearings, I saw the animals rushing over to me. I doubted they wanted me to pet them while they licked my wounds and cared for me while singing Disney songs.
I jumped up as pain rocked my body from more places than I wanted to think about. I hopped over to the tower steps and began my long arduous journey, just a half step away from a bunch of animals that seemed dead set on my destruction.
About halfway up I realized there was no more pursuit, so I slowed trying to conserve energy.
I got to the top, unlocked the hatch and tried to push it open. It took several tries to get enough strength while balancing on one leg standing on the tiniest of all the tiny steps. As soon as I got it open, I turned and slammed it shut, locking it.
I hobbled into the room, found the first aid box and struggled to get to the couch. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget this day ever happened.
I tried to easily lay myself down, but ended up collapsing in an excruciating heap.
Once down, I focused on bandaging the leg since it was losing the most blood. Once done, I proceeded to bandage all the rest of the areas that needed.
“How are you feeling, tower seven?” I heard the voice say over the radio.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on now tower, don’t be like that,” it said. “Talk to me. Let me in and we’ll have a conversation.”
I lay there trying to think of anything other than pain and this voice.
“There has to be punishment for disobeying the rules.”
My blood ran cold. How did that thing know about the rules?
I reached into my pocket and was astonished that my phone was there. It had a cracked screen, but was usable. I texted Bob.
‘I’m alive, somehow. I broke half the rules without knowing it because I read the story too late.’
‘Are you alright?’
I took pictures of my bandaged leg that was wrapped but blood was still seeping through. I took pictures of my battered face, and my bruised ribs. I sent them all to Bob.
‘Good Lord, man, what did you do?’
‘I fell out of the tower.’
‘You did what?’
‘Was leaning over the edge of the walkway when one of the animals smashed into the support leg and shook the tower, knocking me over.’
‘How are you alive?’
‘Tree caught me.’
‘I’ll call the paramedics and come in early to relieve you.’
‘I’ll be laying here on the couch, bleeding.’
Then I added, ‘I’ll follow the rules from now on.’
There was static on the radio and a faint voice said, “You’d better.”
***
When Bob unlocked the hatch and led the EMTs in, he didn’t have that grin on his face.
“You ok, kid?” he said.
“Hunky dory, how about you?” I said laying on the cushions that were soaked in my own blood.
“He might be in shock,” one of the EMTs said.
My rescue was an adventure in itself. When they examined me they informed me that my leg was broken. I was sweating trying to go back down those steps with a splint on. I could just see me slipping near the top and falling again. There didn’t seem to be any trees close enough to catch me on this side.
Apparently, the EMTs seemed to be thinking the same thing. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of tying me to a backboard and trying to carry me down the steps. After two EMTs nearly fell, they decided to tie it to a rope and lower me like a sack of potatoes.
They rigged up a rope around one of the support poles for the walkway. Watching the rope scrape along the edges of the wood, fraying as it went was probably more terrifying than anything I’d experienced last night.
Floating in the air, spinning slowly didn’t help my fear of heights any. I decided to close my eyes and try to stay as still as possible so the balance wouldn’t be disturbed and slide me out of the end to fall to my death.
I was extremely grateful when the board hit the ground. My adrenaline finally crashed and I fell into a deep sleep as they loaded me into the ambulance.
***
Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified to go back to the tower. It’s not like I have a lot of choices. Park ranger is a good paying job and sitting around watching for fires is about the easiest job I’ve ever heard of.
If you take away the supernatural voices, bizarre wildlife, strange lights, and the stairs of death.
I’m hoping paying attention to the rules will keep me safe.
I’m posting this as a warning. If your job has some strange rules, make sure you follow them, no matter how stupid you think they might be.

One hundred and forty-nine stairs. That’s how many there are to get up to the fire tower I’m posted at. I used to think getting up there meant safety. Now, I’m hoping it just means survival.
Climbing one hundred and forty-nine steps when you’re healthy is no small feat. When one of your legs has been torn to shreds, you’re bleeding from many places and you’re trying to get up there to wrap it, hoping there’s enough bandages so you don’t bleed to death, it’s a lot more difficult.
Then there are the stairs themselves which also count as a hazard when you have to hop up each one, causing pain to shoot through your injured leg. The stairs are skinny enough as they are, but the closer you get to the top, the smaller they get.
How do I know the exact number of steps? I counted them. I also counted which ones I miscalculated my jump, or brushed my foot against the step, or did something else that nearly sent me sailing over the rickety railing to my untimely death. The first time was one step number three, then fifteen, thirty-seven was a bad one, fifty-two, one oh seven, one-twenty, and finally one-forty-three. I guess it’s a good thing I’m deathly afraid of heights.
By now you may have figured out, I’m a park ranger. How did I end up playing this deadly game of hopscotch? It started a week ago when I got the job.
I was super excited, because I love working alone, and I love nature. What other job blends those two so well?
That excitement waned quite a bit when I arrived at the tower on my first day and looked up at those tiny metal steps I would have to climb to get to my job. The whole thing looked about as sturdy as if someone had built it with an erector set. I mean honestly, seeing surface rust on stairs that have to support your weight is terrifying, and I had to wonder how much I would be swaying when the wind really kicked up.
I wanted to close my eyes and just run up, but I didn’t dare. I paid attention to every single step, watching the metal bow under the weight of my foot, white-knuckling the railings as I went.
Finally, I reached the top and knocked on the trapdoor that had to be opened to let me in. I met the ranger who would be training me. His name was Bob, and he looked every bit how I envision a park ranger would look. Tall and thin, wiry but not scrawny, with a five o’clock shadow because he never had the time to shave properly.
Bob was one of those guys who seemed to always have a smirk on their face like they’ve just been told the greatest joke of all time, but they don’t want to let you in on it.
He spent the entire shift showing me around and then boring me to tears with all the little details of working in a fire tower. The place wasn’t bad. I was expecting an empty room with a card table and a radio, but this was nice. It reminded me of a small apartment or the inside of a small RV. There was a kitchenette with a microwave, sink, and minifridge. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and most importantly, there was a bathroom.
At one point I thought there would be an outhouse at the base of the tower I would have to use. The thought of going down all those steps while holding number one or especially number two was something I didn’t even want to have nightmares about.
Just before the end of the shift, the next ranger came up. His name was Toby.
Toby looked nothing like I envisioned rangers looking like. He was overweight but made up for it by being under tall. He had a look of mischief in his eyes like a seventh grader who had just dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and was trying to walk away looking nonchalant.
He smiled and shook my hand.
“So did Bob bore you to tears?” he said.
“Not quite to tears,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a good trainer,” Bob said looking offended yet still wearing that grin.
“Did you tell him everything?” Toby said.
“Pretty sure,” Bob said.
“Did you tell him about?” Toby leaned closer and whispered something in Bob’s ear that I couldn’t hear.
Bob’s grin grew.
“No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Maybe we should wait until he’s done training,” Toby said.
“What?” I said looking back and forth between them.
“We’ll tell you once you’re done job shadowing,” Bob said with that infuriating grin.
When we left, I was so focused on what they weren’t telling me, I nearly missed the first step and plunged to my death.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to focus on those steps,” Bob said. “We had a coworker get hurt really bad because of them.”
“Is he ok now?”
Bob looked away.
Toby came over and volunteered, “He’s dead.”
That was definitely what I wanted to hear.
The next few days were a blur. Between total boredom with reading the procedure book and Bob grinning all the while refusing to tell me the big secret, I was getting super frustrated. I couldn’t wait for my first night working alone.
At least I had brought some supplies up to keep in the tower. Some snacks, a few books, and a tablet to make some notes on if I started writing a story.
Finally, the night came. I was working on my own for the first time. Surprisingly, Bob’s smile vanished as he told me.
“Did you ever read anything off of Reddit?” he said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t really read much other than books.”
“Sign up for Reddit, then go to the nosleep subreddit and look for a story called, ‘I was a park ranger stationed in a fire tower. It had a strange set of rules.’ Read that. It’ll tell you what to do.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s the big secret? Read someone’s made-up story?”
“It might seem made up,” he said. “But trust me, follow the rules.”
I tried to read his expression to see if he was messing with me or not. In the five days I’d known him, there was never a time he wasn’t wearing that stupid grin, until now. His face was serious as a heart attack.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll look it up later on my phone.”
“You really should do it as soon as I leave.”
“Ok.”
“Good luck.”
He stepped over to the door and went down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away.
“What the hell was that about?”
I stood in the middle of the room looking out at the beautiful trees, but not even seeing them. My mind was occupied by what Bob had said.
“It has to be a prank,” I said to the empty room. “Bob and Toby cooked this up to scare me on my first night. Well, I’m not falling for it.”
I did my first round of walking around on the outside walkway, looking for any sign of fires. We worked twelve-hour shifts, so I was working from seven am to seven pm. It was late summer and still warm enough to go without a jacket, at least on my first round. By the time I got to my fourth round, there was a chill in the air. I started doing my rounds from the inside and made a mental note to bring a jacket with me tomorrow.
It seemed odd to be talking about a jacket in late summer, but in the forest, the temperatures can vary wildly. It could be thirty degrees at night and eighty during the day.
I stepped back inside and saw my phone had lit up with a text message. I looked at it and it was Bob.
‘Did you read the rules yet?’
‘No,’ I texted back.
‘You don’t have much time.’
I knew this was a joke, it had to be a joke. The old timers pulling a fast one on the new guy, jerking his chain a little.
‘I’ll get right on it,’ I texted.
‘You better.’
I put my phone down and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after ten. Outside was now completely dark, creating a very disconcerting illusion where when I would look outside, all I saw was my reflection. I decided to turn some lights off and go with just the bare minimum. That reduced the reflection some and I could see some trees outside.
I did a slow pan around, then grabbed a bag of chips and a soda, sat down, and worked on a crossword puzzle. That only lasted a half hour until I was bored with it. I picked up a book and started to read.
I woke sometime later, with my head resting on the back of the chair, chip crumbs all over my shirt, and the book laying on the floor.
I stretched and looked over at the clock. It read two-thirteen.
I jumped up, flinging the bag of chips to the floor, realizing I’d missed several checks, then ran around the room staring out at the trees. After my quick lap, I took a breath and did another slower lap to make sure there was no smoke. Thank God, there was none.
I chided myself for falling asleep on duty like that as I cleaned up my mess. I decided I should set an hourly alarm on my phone so that wouldn’t happen again.
When I picked up the phone I noticed there was a series of texts from Bob.
‘Did you read it yet?’
‘Why aren’t you answering?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Don’t open the door for any reason.’
The last one sent chills down my spine.
Why would I open the door in the middle of the night?
As I was thinking this, another text came in.
‘For the love of God, read it!’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he seriously losing sleep for a stupid joke?
I decided I would humor him and read the story. I opened my phone and went to the Reddit site. I had just signed up and put my information in when I heard static over the radio. I stepped to the receiver and checked it. Static blared out of it, making me jump as I heard a faint voice in it.
“Tower seven, do you read me?” I heard from a voice I could barely hear through the static.
I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if this was tower seven or not.
“Tower seven do you read me?” the voice said sounding a little more desperate.
I picked up the mic and keyed it.
“This is tower seven, go ahead.”
“It’s good to hear you tower seven,” the voice said suddenly clear. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Well, here I am, awake and alert, answering you,” I said. “What did you need?”
“I already have what I need,” the voice said sounding like it was chuckling. “I’d like to come visit if that’s alright.”
“Tower seven, this is base, who are you talking to?”
“I don’t know, someone on the radio,” I said into the mic.
“Seven, there’s no one else on this channel,” base said.
I got chills for a moment. What did that mean? How was I hearing someone that base couldn’t? Why would someone be calling now? Then it hit me that the base dispatcher was probably in on the joke too.
“Ok, base, maybe it was just some random transmission.”
“Tower seven,” the voice said. “Am I alright to come from a visit?”
I hesitated for a moment. What if it wasn’t a joke? Who the hell is walking through the forest at two thirty in the morning?
“Maybe we’ll do that visit another time,” I said.
“Visit?” base said. “What visit? Seven, you know it’s against policy to have visitors.”
“Yeah, sorry, base, I won’t be letting anyone visit.”
More static came over the radio. I could swear I could hear someone say something in the middle of it.
It sounded like, “We’ll see.”
I put down the mic and picked up my phone to read the story when I saw something off in the distance. It was a light, but it was hovering, like a helicopter. I switched my phone to camera mode, zoomed in, and took a picture. It was weird because the light was blue. I didn’t think helicopters had blue lights on them. Also, this light wasn’t flashing, it was solid the whole time. It came closer and I took another picture.
It floated even closer. It was mesmerizing. There was no sound. No hum, no whirring of tiny blades keeping it afloat like a drone, nothing. It was about the size of a basketball and glowing the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen. I reached out for it and it backed away from my hand. I took a step closer to the edge of the walkway, reaching out as far as my arm could stretch.
It backed away a few inches, just out of reach. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing against the railing trying to touch it. It moved away another inch.
I reached the tipping point and pinwheeled my arms to regain my balance and shove back against the railing.
I fell onto the walkway, landing hard on my backside and hitting the back of my head against the window. I looked up and the light was gone.
I shook my head, painfully stood up, and went back inside. I didn’t want to do a patrol but figured I’d better. After a slow walk around, I collapsed in the chair and set my alarm to go off in an hour.
After sitting there for a few minutes I could feel myself nodding off, so I opened my phone and started reading the story. After about ten minutes, I lowered my phone, eyes wide, hands shaking.
“It can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s just a joke.”
I scrolled back through the story and re-read the rules.

1. Never, under any circumstances, leave the fire tower until you are relieved.
   
2. Turn off all lights between the hours of 2 and 3 am.
   
3. If you receive a radio transmission or phone call between those hours, do not answer.
   
4. If anyone knocks on the trapdoor during those hours tell them they’ll have to wait until morning. Do not open the door.
   
5. If you see a glowing object floating toward the tower, don’t look at it. Cover your eyes and count to 50. When you open your eyes it should be gone. If not, cover and count to 50 again.
   
6. If animals surround the tower don’t go down to look. Fire your flare gun into the air twice one minute apart, then lock yourself in the bathroom and hope for the best.
   My skepticism started to waver. How could they have known about those things, unless…
   

There was a powerful banging at the trapdoor that made me jump.
“Who is it?” I said.
No one answered.
I minute later, the pounding resumed. I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Digging through the silverware drawer and finding an old, dull, paring knife, I backed as far away from the trapdoor as possible while staying inside. The pounding repeated. Somehow through the fear that coursed through my veins, I found my voice.
“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” I said.
“But I’m here now tower,” said the voice from the radio. “Let… me… in... ”
The last three words changed from asking to demanding. The voice also became deeper and more menacing.
I didn’t answer. I just slid down to the floor and hugged my knees holding the knife in front of me, silently searching through the story on my phone to see if there was something I missed, some way I could remedy the situation. But there was nothing, and the end of the story didn’t give me much hope.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the pounding continued now mixed with the voice that was going back and forth between pleading and threatening. It whispered then it screamed. It sound like a young boy, then it sounded demonic.
I rocked back and forth trying to keep some measure of sanity as the assault continued. I began to wonder how long the trapdoor would hold before whatever it was broke through.
Then suddenly it stopped.
As happy as I was that there was no more pounding and yelling, I didn’t trust it. My entire body was on pins and needles. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The fire tower shook. It felt like an earthquake, only different. I stood and went out to the walkway to see what was happening. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe it. The tower was surrounded by animals of all kinds. Deer, squirrels, bears, moose, any forest animal you could imagine, and even a couple I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
As I leaned over watching this strange menagerie, a moose rammed into one of the tower’s legs. It sent a shockwave through the entire metal framework. By the time it got up to me the tower was shaking so hard it made me lose my balance.
I toppled over the edge and fell. I threw my arm out attempting to catch the rail, but only touched it with my fingertips.
I knew I was falling to my death, there was no doubt. The wind rushing in my ears didn’t drown out the sound of my screaming. It sounded odd like I was listening to someone else scream. I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when the end was coming.
Suddenly something hit me hard in the ribs. I looked and I had hit a tree limb, but it didn’t stop me. The branch broke sending me falling again until I hit another branch. This one tore a gash on my leg as I flipped head over heels and fell again. The next branch grazed my head and made me see stars. I bounced off another branch hitting my shoulder, then took one to the knee, and landed flat on my back on the ground.
I lay there dazed, injured, but alive and surprised to be so. As I tried to regain my bearings, I saw the animals rushing over to me. I doubted they wanted me to pet them while they licked my wounds and cared for me while singing Disney songs.
I jumped up as pain rocked my body from more places than I wanted to think about. I hopped over to the tower steps and began my long arduous journey, just a half step away from a bunch of animals that seemed dead set on my destruction.
About halfway up I realized there was no more pursuit, so I slowed trying to conserve energy.
I got to the top, unlocked the hatch and tried to push it open. It took several tries to get enough strength while balancing on one leg standing on the tiniest of all the tiny steps. As soon as I got it open, I turned and slammed it shut, locking it.
I hobbled into the room, found the first aid box and struggled to get to the couch. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget this day ever happened.
I tried to easily lay myself down, but ended up collapsing in an excruciating heap.
Once down, I focused on bandaging the leg since it was losing the most blood. Once done, I proceeded to bandage all the rest of the areas that needed.
“How are you feeling, tower seven?” I heard the voice say over the radio.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on now tower, don’t be like that,” it said. “Talk to me. Let me in and we’ll have a conversation.”
I lay there trying to think of anything other than pain and this voice.
“There has to be punishment for disobeying the rules.”
My blood ran cold. How did that thing know about the rules?
I reached into my pocket and was astonished that my phone was there. It had a cracked screen, but was usable. I texted Bob.
‘I’m alive, somehow. I broke half the rules without knowing it because I read the story too late.’
‘Are you alright?’
I took pictures of my bandaged leg that was wrapped but blood was still seeping through. I took pictures of my battered face, and my bruised ribs. I sent them all to Bob.
‘Good Lord, man, what did you do?’
‘I fell out of the tower.’
‘You did what?’
‘Was leaning over the edge of the walkway when one of the animals smashed into the support leg and shook the tower, knocking me over.’
‘How are you alive?’
‘Tree caught me.’
‘I’ll call the paramedics and come in early to relieve you.’
‘I’ll be laying here on the couch, bleeding.’
Then I added, ‘I’ll follow the rules from now on.’
There was static on the radio and a faint voice said, “You’d better.”
***
When Bob unlocked the hatch and led the EMTs in, he didn’t have that grin on his face.
“You ok, kid?” he said.
“Hunky dory, how about you?” I said laying on the cushions that were soaked in my own blood.
“He might be in shock,” one of the EMTs said.
My rescue was an adventure in itself. When they examined me they informed me that my leg was broken. I was sweating trying to go back down those steps with a splint on. I could just see me slipping near the top and falling again. There didn’t seem to be any trees close enough to catch me on this side.
Apparently, the EMTs seemed to be thinking the same thing. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of tying me to a backboard and trying to carry me down the steps. After two EMTs nearly fell, they decided to tie it to a rope and lower me like a sack of potatoes.
They rigged up a rope around one of the support poles for the walkway. Watching the rope scrape along the edges of the wood, fraying as it went was probably more terrifying than anything I’d experienced last night.
Floating in the air, spinning slowly didn’t help my fear of heights any. I decided to close my eyes and try to stay as still as possible so the balance wouldn’t be disturbed and slide me out of the end to fall to my death.
I was extremely grateful when the board hit the ground. My adrenaline finally crashed and I fell into a deep sleep as they loaded me into the ambulance.
***
Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified to go back to the tower. It’s not like I have a lot of choices. Park ranger is a good paying job and sitting around watching for fires is about the easiest job I’ve ever heard of.
If you take away the supernatural voices, bizarre wildlife, strange lights, and the stairs of death.
I’m hoping paying attention to the rules will keep me safe.
I’m posting this as a warning. If your job has some strange rules, make sure you follow them, no matter how stupid you think they might be.

One hundred and forty-nine stairs. That’s how many there are to get up to the fire tower I’m posted at. I used to think getting up there meant safety. Now, I’m hoping it just means survival.
Climbing one hundred and forty-nine steps when you’re healthy is no small feat. When one of your legs has been torn to shreds, you’re bleeding from many places and you’re trying to get up there to wrap it, hoping there’s enough bandages so you don’t bleed to death, it’s a lot more difficult.
Then there are the stairs themselves which also count as a hazard when you have to hop up each one, causing pain to shoot through your injured leg. The stairs are skinny enough as they are, but the closer you get to the top, the smaller they get.
How do I know the exact number of steps? I counted them. I also counted which ones I miscalculated my jump, or brushed my foot against the step, or did something else that nearly sent me sailing over the rickety railing to my untimely death. The first time was one step number three, then fifteen, thirty-seven was a bad one, fifty-two, one oh seven, one-twenty, and finally one-forty-three. I guess it’s a good thing I’m deathly afraid of heights.
By now you may have figured out, I’m a park ranger. How did I end up playing this deadly game of hopscotch? It started a week ago when I got the job.
I was super excited, because I love working alone, and I love nature. What other job blends those two so well?
That excitement waned quite a bit when I arrived at the tower on my first day and looked up at those tiny metal steps I would have to climb to get to my job. The whole thing looked about as sturdy as if someone had built it with an erector set. I mean honestly, seeing surface rust on stairs that have to support your weight is terrifying, and I had to wonder how much I would be swaying when the wind really kicked up.
I wanted to close my eyes and just run up, but I didn’t dare. I paid attention to every single step, watching the metal bow under the weight of my foot, white-knuckling the railings as I went.
Finally, I reached the top and knocked on the trapdoor that had to be opened to let me in. I met the ranger who would be training me. His name was Bob, and he looked every bit how I envision a park ranger would look. Tall and thin, wiry but not scrawny, with a five o’clock shadow because he never had the time to shave properly.
Bob was one of those guys who seemed to always have a smirk on their face like they’ve just been told the greatest joke of all time, but they don’t want to let you in on it.
He spent the entire shift showing me around and then boring me to tears with all the little details of working in a fire tower. The place wasn’t bad. I was expecting an empty room with a card table and a radio, but this was nice. It reminded me of a small apartment or the inside of a small RV. There was a kitchenette with a microwave, sink, and minifridge. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and most importantly, there was a bathroom.
At one point I thought there would be an outhouse at the base of the tower I would have to use. The thought of going down all those steps while holding number one or especially number two was something I didn’t even want to have nightmares about.
Just before the end of the shift, the next ranger came up. His name was Toby.
Toby looked nothing like I envisioned rangers looking like. He was overweight but made up for it by being under tall. He had a look of mischief in his eyes like a seventh grader who had just dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and was trying to walk away looking nonchalant.
He smiled and shook my hand.
“So did Bob bore you to tears?” he said.
“Not quite to tears,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a good trainer,” Bob said looking offended yet still wearing that grin.
“Did you tell him everything?” Toby said.
“Pretty sure,” Bob said.
“Did you tell him about?” Toby leaned closer and whispered something in Bob’s ear that I couldn’t hear.
Bob’s grin grew.
“No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Maybe we should wait until he’s done training,” Toby said.
“What?” I said looking back and forth between them.
“We’ll tell you once you’re done job shadowing,” Bob said with that infuriating grin.
When we left, I was so focused on what they weren’t telling me, I nearly missed the first step and plunged to my death.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to focus on those steps,” Bob said. “We had a coworker get hurt really bad because of them.”
“Is he ok now?”
Bob looked away.
Toby came over and volunteered, “He’s dead.”
That was definitely what I wanted to hear.
The next few days were a blur. Between total boredom with reading the procedure book and Bob grinning all the while refusing to tell me the big secret, I was getting super frustrated. I couldn’t wait for my first night working alone.
At least I had brought some supplies up to keep in the tower. Some snacks, a few books, and a tablet to make some notes on if I started writing a story.
Finally, the night came. I was working on my own for the first time. Surprisingly, Bob’s smile vanished as he told me.
“Did you ever read anything off of Reddit?” he said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t really read much other than books.”
“Sign up for Reddit, then go to the nosleep subreddit and look for a story called, ‘I was a park ranger stationed in a fire tower. It had a strange set of rules.’ Read that. It’ll tell you what to do.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s the big secret? Read someone’s made-up story?”
“It might seem made up,” he said. “But trust me, follow the rules.”
I tried to read his expression to see if he was messing with me or not. In the five days I’d known him, there was never a time he wasn’t wearing that stupid grin, until now. His face was serious as a heart attack.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll look it up later on my phone.”
“You really should do it as soon as I leave.”
“Ok.”
“Good luck.”
He stepped over to the door and went down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away.
“What the hell was that about?”
I stood in the middle of the room looking out at the beautiful trees, but not even seeing them. My mind was occupied by what Bob had said.
“It has to be a prank,” I said to the empty room. “Bob and Toby cooked this up to scare me on my first night. Well, I’m not falling for it.”
I did my first round of walking around on the outside walkway, looking for any sign of fires. We worked twelve-hour shifts, so I was working from seven am to seven pm. It was late summer and still warm enough to go without a jacket, at least on my first round. By the time I got to my fourth round, there was a chill in the air. I started doing my rounds from the inside and made a mental note to bring a jacket with me tomorrow.
It seemed odd to be talking about a jacket in late summer, but in the forest, the temperatures can vary wildly. It could be thirty degrees at night and eighty during the day.
I stepped back inside and saw my phone had lit up with a text message. I looked at it and it was Bob.
‘Did you read the rules yet?’
‘No,’ I texted back.
‘You don’t have much time.’
I knew this was a joke, it had to be a joke. The old timers pulling a fast one on the new guy, jerking his chain a little.
‘I’ll get right on it,’ I texted.
‘You better.’
I put my phone down and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after ten. Outside was now completely dark, creating a very disconcerting illusion where when I would look outside, all I saw was my reflection. I decided to turn some lights off and go with just the bare minimum. That reduced the reflection some and I could see some trees outside.
I did a slow pan around, then grabbed a bag of chips and a soda, sat down, and worked on a crossword puzzle. That only lasted a half hour until I was bored with it. I picked up a book and started to read.
I woke sometime later, with my head resting on the back of the chair, chip crumbs all over my shirt, and the book laying on the floor.
I stretched and looked over at the clock. It read two-thirteen.
I jumped up, flinging the bag of chips to the floor, realizing I’d missed several checks, then ran around the room staring out at the trees. After my quick lap, I took a breath and did another slower lap to make sure there was no smoke. Thank God, there was none.
I chided myself for falling asleep on duty like that as I cleaned up my mess. I decided I should set an hourly alarm on my phone so that wouldn’t happen again.
When I picked up the phone I noticed there was a series of texts from Bob.
‘Did you read it yet?’
‘Why aren’t you answering?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Don’t open the door for any reason.’
The last one sent chills down my spine.
Why would I open the door in the middle of the night?
As I was thinking this, another text came in.
‘For the love of God, read it!’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he seriously losing sleep for a stupid joke?
I decided I would humor him and read the story. I opened my phone and went to the Reddit site. I had just signed up and put my information in when I heard static over the radio. I stepped to the receiver and checked it. Static blared out of it, making me jump as I heard a faint voice in it.
“Tower seven, do you read me?” I heard from a voice I could barely hear through the static.
I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if this was tower seven or not.
“Tower seven do you read me?” the voice said sounding a little more desperate.
I picked up the mic and keyed it.
“This is tower seven, go ahead.”
“It’s good to hear you tower seven,” the voice said suddenly clear. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Well, here I am, awake and alert, answering you,” I said. “What did you need?”
“I already have what I need,” the voice said sounding like it was chuckling. “I’d like to come visit if that’s alright.”
“Tower seven, this is base, who are you talking to?”
“I don’t know, someone on the radio,” I said into the mic.
“Seven, there’s no one else on this channel,” base said.
I got chills for a moment. What did that mean? How was I hearing someone that base couldn’t? Why would someone be calling now? Then it hit me that the base dispatcher was probably in on the joke too.
“Ok, base, maybe it was just some random transmission.”
“Tower seven,” the voice said. “Am I alright to come from a visit?”
I hesitated for a moment. What if it wasn’t a joke? Who the hell is walking through the forest at two thirty in the morning?
“Maybe we’ll do that visit another time,” I said.
“Visit?” base said. “What visit? Seven, you know it’s against policy to have visitors.”
“Yeah, sorry, base, I won’t be letting anyone visit.”
More static came over the radio. I could swear I could hear someone say something in the middle of it.
It sounded like, “We’ll see.”
I put down the mic and picked up my phone to read the story when I saw something off in the distance. It was a light, but it was hovering, like a helicopter. I switched my phone to camera mode, zoomed in, and took a picture. It was weird because the light was blue. I didn’t think helicopters had blue lights on them. Also, this light wasn’t flashing, it was solid the whole time. It came closer and I took another picture.
It floated even closer. It was mesmerizing. There was no sound. No hum, no whirring of tiny blades keeping it afloat like a drone, nothing. It was about the size of a basketball and glowing the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen. I reached out for it and it backed away from my hand. I took a step closer to the edge of the walkway, reaching out as far as my arm could stretch.
It backed away a few inches, just out of reach. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing against the railing trying to touch it. It moved away another inch.
I reached the tipping point and pinwheeled my arms to regain my balance and shove back against the railing.
I fell onto the walkway, landing hard on my backside and hitting the back of my head against the window. I looked up and the light was gone.
I shook my head, painfully stood up, and went back inside. I didn’t want to do a patrol but figured I’d better. After a slow walk around, I collapsed in the chair and set my alarm to go off in an hour.
After sitting there for a few minutes I could feel myself nodding off, so I opened my phone and started reading the story. After about ten minutes, I lowered my phone, eyes wide, hands shaking.
“It can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s just a joke.”
I scrolled back through the story and re-read the rules.

1. Never, under any circumstances, leave the fire tower until you are relieved.
   
2. Turn off all lights between the hours of 2 and 3 am.
   
3. If you receive a radio transmission or phone call between those hours, do not answer.
   
4. If anyone knocks on the trapdoor during those hours tell them they’ll have to wait until morning. Do not open the door.
   
5. If you see a glowing object floating toward the tower, don’t look at it. Cover your eyes and count to 50. When you open your eyes it should be gone. If not, cover and count to 50 again.
   
6. If animals surround the tower don’t go down to look. Fire your flare gun into the air twice one minute apart, then lock yourself in the bathroom and hope for the best.
   My skepticism started to waver. How could they have known about those things, unless…
   

There was a powerful banging at the trapdoor that made me jump.
“Who is it?” I said.
No one answered.
I minute later, the pounding resumed. I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Digging through the silverware drawer and finding an old, dull, paring knife, I backed as far away from the trapdoor as possible while staying inside. The pounding repeated. Somehow through the fear that coursed through my veins, I found my voice.
“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” I said.
“But I’m here now tower,” said the voice from the radio. “Let… me… in... ”
The last three words changed from asking to demanding. The voice also became deeper and more menacing.
I didn’t answer. I just slid down to the floor and hugged my knees holding the knife in front of me, silently searching through the story on my phone to see if there was something I missed, some way I could remedy the situation. But there was nothing, and the end of the story didn’t give me much hope.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the pounding continued now mixed with the voice that was going back and forth between pleading and threatening. It whispered then it screamed. It sound like a young boy, then it sounded demonic.
I rocked back and forth trying to keep some measure of sanity as the assault continued. I began to wonder how long the trapdoor would hold before whatever it was broke through.
Then suddenly it stopped.
As happy as I was that there was no more pounding and yelling, I didn’t trust it. My entire body was on pins and needles. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The fire tower shook. It felt like an earthquake, only different. I stood and went out to the walkway to see what was happening. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe it. The tower was surrounded by animals of all kinds. Deer, squirrels, bears, moose, any forest animal you could imagine, and even a couple I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
As I leaned over watching this strange menagerie, a moose rammed into one of the tower’s legs. It sent a shockwave through the entire metal framework. By the time it got up to me the tower was shaking so hard it made me lose my balance.
I toppled over the edge and fell. I threw my arm out attempting to catch the rail, but only touched it with my fingertips.
I knew I was falling to my death, there was no doubt. The wind rushing in my ears didn’t drown out the sound of my screaming. It sounded odd like I was listening to someone else scream. I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when the end was coming.
Suddenly something hit me hard in the ribs. I looked and I had hit a tree limb, but it didn’t stop me. The branch broke sending me falling again until I hit another branch. This one tore a gash on my leg as I flipped head over heels and fell again. The next branch grazed my head and made me see stars. I bounced off another branch hitting my shoulder, then took one to the knee, and landed flat on my back on the ground.
I lay there dazed, injured, but alive and surprised to be so. As I tried to regain my bearings, I saw the animals rushing over to me. I doubted they wanted me to pet them while they licked my wounds and cared for me while singing Disney songs.
I jumped up as pain rocked my body from more places than I wanted to think about. I hopped over to the tower steps and began my long arduous journey, just a half step away from a bunch of animals that seemed dead set on my destruction.
About halfway up I realized there was no more pursuit, so I slowed trying to conserve energy.
I got to the top, unlocked the hatch and tried to push it open. It took several tries to get enough strength while balancing on one leg standing on the tiniest of all the tiny steps. As soon as I got it open, I turned and slammed it shut, locking it.
I hobbled into the room, found the first aid box and struggled to get to the couch. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget this day ever happened.
I tried to easily lay myself down, but ended up collapsing in an excruciating heap.
Once down, I focused on bandaging the leg since it was losing the most blood. Once done, I proceeded to bandage all the rest of the areas that needed.
“How are you feeling, tower seven?” I heard the voice say over the radio.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on now tower, don’t be like that,” it said. “Talk to me. Let me in and we’ll have a conversation.”
I lay there trying to think of anything other than pain and this voice.
“There has to be punishment for disobeying the rules.”
My blood ran cold. How did that thing know about the rules?
I reached into my pocket and was astonished that my phone was there. It had a cracked screen, but was usable. I texted Bob.
‘I’m alive, somehow. I broke half the rules without knowing it because I read the story too late.’
‘Are you alright?’
I took pictures of my bandaged leg that was wrapped but blood was still seeping through. I took pictures of my battered face, and my bruised ribs. I sent them all to Bob.
‘Good Lord, man, what did you do?’
‘I fell out of the tower.’
‘You did what?’
‘Was leaning over the edge of the walkway when one of the animals smashed into the support leg and shook the tower, knocking me over.’
‘How are you alive?’
‘Tree caught me.’
‘I’ll call the paramedics and come in early to relieve you.’
‘I’ll be laying here on the couch, bleeding.’
Then I added, ‘I’ll follow the rules from now on.’
There was static on the radio and a faint voice said, “You’d better.”
***
When Bob unlocked the hatch and led the EMTs in, he didn’t have that grin on his face.
“You ok, kid?” he said.
“Hunky dory, how about you?” I said laying on the cushions that were soaked in my own blood.
“He might be in shock,” one of the EMTs said.
My rescue was an adventure in itself. When they examined me they informed me that my leg was broken. I was sweating trying to go back down those steps with a splint on. I could just see me slipping near the top and falling again. There didn’t seem to be any trees close enough to catch me on this side.
Apparently, the EMTs seemed to be thinking the same thing. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of tying me to a backboard and trying to carry me down the steps. After two EMTs nearly fell, they decided to tie it to a rope and lower me like a sack of potatoes.
They rigged up a rope around one of the support poles for the walkway. Watching the rope scrape along the edges of the wood, fraying as it went was probably more terrifying than anything I’d experienced last night.
Floating in the air, spinning slowly didn’t help my fear of heights any. I decided to close my eyes and try to stay as still as possible so the balance wouldn’t be disturbed and slide me out of the end to fall to my death.
I was extremely grateful when the board hit the ground. My adrenaline finally crashed and I fell into a deep sleep as they loaded me into the ambulance.
***
Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified to go back to the tower. It’s not like I have a lot of choices. Park ranger is a good paying job and sitting around watching for fires is about the easiest job I’ve ever heard of.
If you take away the supernatural voices, bizarre wildlife, strange lights, and the stairs of death.
I’m hoping paying attention to the rules will keep me safe.
I’m posting this as a warning. If your job has some strange rules, make sure you follow them, no matter how stupid you think they might be.

One hundred and forty-nine stairs. That’s how many there are to get up to the fire tower I’m posted at. I used to think getting up there meant safety. Now, I’m hoping it just means survival.
Climbing one hundred and forty-nine steps when you’re healthy is no small feat. When one of your legs has been torn to shreds, you’re bleeding from many places and you’re trying to get up there to wrap it, hoping there’s enough bandages so you don’t bleed to death, it’s a lot more difficult.
Then there are the stairs themselves which also count as a hazard when you have to hop up each one, causing pain to shoot through your injured leg. The stairs are skinny enough as they are, but the closer you get to the top, the smaller they get.
How do I know the exact number of steps? I counted them. I also counted which ones I miscalculated my jump, or brushed my foot against the step, or did something else that nearly sent me sailing over the rickety railing to my untimely death. The first time was one step number three, then fifteen, thirty-seven was a bad one, fifty-two, one oh seven, one-twenty, and finally one-forty-three. I guess it’s a good thing I’m deathly afraid of heights.
By now you may have figured out, I’m a park ranger. How did I end up playing this deadly game of hopscotch? It started a week ago when I got the job.
I was super excited, because I love working alone, and I love nature. What other job blends those two so well?
That excitement waned quite a bit when I arrived at the tower on my first day and looked up at those tiny metal steps I would have to climb to get to my job. The whole thing looked about as sturdy as if someone had built it with an erector set. I mean honestly, seeing surface rust on stairs that have to support your weight is terrifying, and I had to wonder how much I would be swaying when the wind really kicked up.
I wanted to close my eyes and just run up, but I didn’t dare. I paid attention to every single step, watching the metal bow under the weight of my foot, white-knuckling the railings as I went.
Finally, I reached the top and knocked on the trapdoor that had to be opened to let me in. I met the ranger who would be training me. His name was Bob, and he looked every bit how I envision a park ranger would look. Tall and thin, wiry but not scrawny, with a five o’clock shadow because he never had the time to shave properly.
Bob was one of those guys who seemed to always have a smirk on their face like they’ve just been told the greatest joke of all time, but they don’t want to let you in on it.
He spent the entire shift showing me around and then boring me to tears with all the little details of working in a fire tower. The place wasn’t bad. I was expecting an empty room with a card table and a radio, but this was nice. It reminded me of a small apartment or the inside of a small RV. There was a kitchenette with a microwave, sink, and minifridge. There was a couch and a couple of chairs, and most importantly, there was a bathroom.
At one point I thought there would be an outhouse at the base of the tower I would have to use. The thought of going down all those steps while holding number one or especially number two was something I didn’t even want to have nightmares about.
Just before the end of the shift, the next ranger came up. His name was Toby.
Toby looked nothing like I envisioned rangers looking like. He was overweight but made up for it by being under tall. He had a look of mischief in his eyes like a seventh grader who had just dropped a cherry bomb down the toilet and was trying to walk away looking nonchalant.
He smiled and shook my hand.
“So did Bob bore you to tears?” he said.
“Not quite to tears,” I said.
“Hey, I’m a good trainer,” Bob said looking offended yet still wearing that grin.
“Did you tell him everything?” Toby said.
“Pretty sure,” Bob said.
“Did you tell him about?” Toby leaned closer and whispered something in Bob’s ear that I couldn’t hear.
Bob’s grin grew.
“No, I didn’t tell him about that.”
“Maybe we should wait until he’s done training,” Toby said.
“What?” I said looking back and forth between them.
“We’ll tell you once you’re done job shadowing,” Bob said with that infuriating grin.
When we left, I was so focused on what they weren’t telling me, I nearly missed the first step and plunged to my death.
“Yeah, you’re gonna want to focus on those steps,” Bob said. “We had a coworker get hurt really bad because of them.”
“Is he ok now?”
Bob looked away.
Toby came over and volunteered, “He’s dead.”
That was definitely what I wanted to hear.
The next few days were a blur. Between total boredom with reading the procedure book and Bob grinning all the while refusing to tell me the big secret, I was getting super frustrated. I couldn’t wait for my first night working alone.
At least I had brought some supplies up to keep in the tower. Some snacks, a few books, and a tablet to make some notes on if I started writing a story.
Finally, the night came. I was working on my own for the first time. Surprisingly, Bob’s smile vanished as he told me.
“Did you ever read anything off of Reddit?” he said.
I shrugged.
“I don’t really read much other than books.”
“Sign up for Reddit, then go to the nosleep subreddit and look for a story called, ‘I was a park ranger stationed in a fire tower. It had a strange set of rules.’ Read that. It’ll tell you what to do.”
“Ok,” I said. “That’s the big secret? Read someone’s made-up story?”
“It might seem made up,” he said. “But trust me, follow the rules.”
I tried to read his expression to see if he was messing with me or not. In the five days I’d known him, there was never a time he wasn’t wearing that stupid grin, until now. His face was serious as a heart attack.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll look it up later on my phone.”
“You really should do it as soon as I leave.”
“Ok.”
“Good luck.”
He stepped over to the door and went down the stairs. A few minutes later I heard his truck drive away.
“What the hell was that about?”
I stood in the middle of the room looking out at the beautiful trees, but not even seeing them. My mind was occupied by what Bob had said.
“It has to be a prank,” I said to the empty room. “Bob and Toby cooked this up to scare me on my first night. Well, I’m not falling for it.”
I did my first round of walking around on the outside walkway, looking for any sign of fires. We worked twelve-hour shifts, so I was working from seven am to seven pm. It was late summer and still warm enough to go without a jacket, at least on my first round. By the time I got to my fourth round, there was a chill in the air. I started doing my rounds from the inside and made a mental note to bring a jacket with me tomorrow.
It seemed odd to be talking about a jacket in late summer, but in the forest, the temperatures can vary wildly. It could be thirty degrees at night and eighty during the day.
I stepped back inside and saw my phone had lit up with a text message. I looked at it and it was Bob.
‘Did you read the rules yet?’
‘No,’ I texted back.
‘You don’t have much time.’
I knew this was a joke, it had to be a joke. The old timers pulling a fast one on the new guy, jerking his chain a little.
‘I’ll get right on it,’ I texted.
‘You better.’
I put my phone down and looked at the clock. It was ten minutes after ten. Outside was now completely dark, creating a very disconcerting illusion where when I would look outside, all I saw was my reflection. I decided to turn some lights off and go with just the bare minimum. That reduced the reflection some and I could see some trees outside.
I did a slow pan around, then grabbed a bag of chips and a soda, sat down, and worked on a crossword puzzle. That only lasted a half hour until I was bored with it. I picked up a book and started to read.
I woke sometime later, with my head resting on the back of the chair, chip crumbs all over my shirt, and the book laying on the floor.
I stretched and looked over at the clock. It read two-thirteen.
I jumped up, flinging the bag of chips to the floor, realizing I’d missed several checks, then ran around the room staring out at the trees. After my quick lap, I took a breath and did another slower lap to make sure there was no smoke. Thank God, there was none.
I chided myself for falling asleep on duty like that as I cleaned up my mess. I decided I should set an hourly alarm on my phone so that wouldn’t happen again.
When I picked up the phone I noticed there was a series of texts from Bob.
‘Did you read it yet?’
‘Why aren’t you answering?’
‘Are you alright?’
‘Don’t open the door for any reason.’
The last one sent chills down my spine.
Why would I open the door in the middle of the night?
As I was thinking this, another text came in.
‘For the love of God, read it!’
What the hell was wrong with this guy? Was he seriously losing sleep for a stupid joke?
I decided I would humor him and read the story. I opened my phone and went to the Reddit site. I had just signed up and put my information in when I heard static over the radio. I stepped to the receiver and checked it. Static blared out of it, making me jump as I heard a faint voice in it.
“Tower seven, do you read me?” I heard from a voice I could barely hear through the static.
I hesitated for a moment trying to remember if this was tower seven or not.
“Tower seven do you read me?” the voice said sounding a little more desperate.
I picked up the mic and keyed it.
“This is tower seven, go ahead.”
“It’s good to hear you tower seven,” the voice said suddenly clear. “I didn’t think you would answer.”
“Well, here I am, awake and alert, answering you,” I said. “What did you need?”
“I already have what I need,” the voice said sounding like it was chuckling. “I’d like to come visit if that’s alright.”
“Tower seven, this is base, who are you talking to?”
“I don’t know, someone on the radio,” I said into the mic.
“Seven, there’s no one else on this channel,” base said.
I got chills for a moment. What did that mean? How was I hearing someone that base couldn’t? Why would someone be calling now? Then it hit me that the base dispatcher was probably in on the joke too.
“Ok, base, maybe it was just some random transmission.”
“Tower seven,” the voice said. “Am I alright to come from a visit?”
I hesitated for a moment. What if it wasn’t a joke? Who the hell is walking through the forest at two thirty in the morning?
“Maybe we’ll do that visit another time,” I said.
“Visit?” base said. “What visit? Seven, you know it’s against policy to have visitors.”
“Yeah, sorry, base, I won’t be letting anyone visit.”
More static came over the radio. I could swear I could hear someone say something in the middle of it.
It sounded like, “We’ll see.”
I put down the mic and picked up my phone to read the story when I saw something off in the distance. It was a light, but it was hovering, like a helicopter. I switched my phone to camera mode, zoomed in, and took a picture. It was weird because the light was blue. I didn’t think helicopters had blue lights on them. Also, this light wasn’t flashing, it was solid the whole time. It came closer and I took another picture.
It floated even closer. It was mesmerizing. There was no sound. No hum, no whirring of tiny blades keeping it afloat like a drone, nothing. It was about the size of a basketball and glowing the most brilliant blue I’d ever seen. I reached out for it and it backed away from my hand. I took a step closer to the edge of the walkway, reaching out as far as my arm could stretch.
It backed away a few inches, just out of reach. I stood on my tiptoes, pushing against the railing trying to touch it. It moved away another inch.
I reached the tipping point and pinwheeled my arms to regain my balance and shove back against the railing.
I fell onto the walkway, landing hard on my backside and hitting the back of my head against the window. I looked up and the light was gone.
I shook my head, painfully stood up, and went back inside. I didn’t want to do a patrol but figured I’d better. After a slow walk around, I collapsed in the chair and set my alarm to go off in an hour.
After sitting there for a few minutes I could feel myself nodding off, so I opened my phone and started reading the story. After about ten minutes, I lowered my phone, eyes wide, hands shaking.
“It can’t be real,” I whispered. “It’s just a joke.”
I scrolled back through the story and re-read the rules.

1. Never, under any circumstances, leave the fire tower until you are relieved.
   
2. Turn off all lights between the hours of 2 and 3 am.
   
3. If you receive a radio transmission or phone call between those hours, do not answer.
   
4. If anyone knocks on the trapdoor during those hours tell them they’ll have to wait until morning. Do not open the door.
   
5. If you see a glowing object floating toward the tower, don’t look at it. Cover your eyes and count to 50. When you open your eyes it should be gone. If not, cover and count to 50 again.
   
6. If animals surround the tower don’t go down to look. Fire your flare gun into the air twice one minute apart, then lock yourself in the bathroom and hope for the best.
   My skepticism started to waver. How could they have known about those things, unless…
   

There was a powerful banging at the trapdoor that made me jump.
“Who is it?” I said.
No one answered.
I minute later, the pounding resumed. I searched for anything I could use as a weapon. Digging through the silverware drawer and finding an old, dull, paring knife, I backed as far away from the trapdoor as possible while staying inside. The pounding repeated. Somehow through the fear that coursed through my veins, I found my voice.
“You’ll have to come back in the morning,” I said.
“But I’m here now tower,” said the voice from the radio. “Let… me… in... ”
The last three words changed from asking to demanding. The voice also became deeper and more menacing.
I didn’t answer. I just slid down to the floor and hugged my knees holding the knife in front of me, silently searching through the story on my phone to see if there was something I missed, some way I could remedy the situation. But there was nothing, and the end of the story didn’t give me much hope.
I covered my ears and closed my eyes as the pounding continued now mixed with the voice that was going back and forth between pleading and threatening. It whispered then it screamed. It sound like a young boy, then it sounded demonic.
I rocked back and forth trying to keep some measure of sanity as the assault continued. I began to wonder how long the trapdoor would hold before whatever it was broke through.
Then suddenly it stopped.
As happy as I was that there was no more pounding and yelling, I didn’t trust it. My entire body was on pins and needles. It felt like the calm before the storm.
The fire tower shook. It felt like an earthquake, only different. I stood and went out to the walkway to see what was happening. When I looked down, I couldn’t believe it. The tower was surrounded by animals of all kinds. Deer, squirrels, bears, moose, any forest animal you could imagine, and even a couple I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
As I leaned over watching this strange menagerie, a moose rammed into one of the tower’s legs. It sent a shockwave through the entire metal framework. By the time it got up to me the tower was shaking so hard it made me lose my balance.
I toppled over the edge and fell. I threw my arm out attempting to catch the rail, but only touched it with my fingertips.
I knew I was falling to my death, there was no doubt. The wind rushing in my ears didn’t drown out the sound of my screaming. It sounded odd like I was listening to someone else scream. I closed my eyes, not wanting to know when the end was coming.
Suddenly something hit me hard in the ribs. I looked and I had hit a tree limb, but it didn’t stop me. The branch broke sending me falling again until I hit another branch. This one tore a gash on my leg as I flipped head over heels and fell again. The next branch grazed my head and made me see stars. I bounced off another branch hitting my shoulder, then took one to the knee, and landed flat on my back on the ground.
I lay there dazed, injured, but alive and surprised to be so. As I tried to regain my bearings, I saw the animals rushing over to me. I doubted they wanted me to pet them while they licked my wounds and cared for me while singing Disney songs.
I jumped up as pain rocked my body from more places than I wanted to think about. I hopped over to the tower steps and began my long arduous journey, just a half step away from a bunch of animals that seemed dead set on my destruction.
About halfway up I realized there was no more pursuit, so I slowed trying to conserve energy.
I got to the top, unlocked the hatch and tried to push it open. It took several tries to get enough strength while balancing on one leg standing on the tiniest of all the tiny steps. As soon as I got it open, I turned and slammed it shut, locking it.
I hobbled into the room, found the first aid box and struggled to get to the couch. I wanted nothing more than to curl up in a ball and forget this day ever happened.
I tried to easily lay myself down, but ended up collapsing in an excruciating heap.
Once down, I focused on bandaging the leg since it was losing the most blood. Once done, I proceeded to bandage all the rest of the areas that needed.
“How are you feeling, tower seven?” I heard the voice say over the radio.
I didn’t answer.
“Oh, come on now tower, don’t be like that,” it said. “Talk to me. Let me in and we’ll have a conversation.”
I lay there trying to think of anything other than pain and this voice.
“There has to be punishment for disobeying the rules.”
My blood ran cold. How did that thing know about the rules?
I reached into my pocket and was astonished that my phone was there. It had a cracked screen, but was usable. I texted Bob.
‘I’m alive, somehow. I broke half the rules without knowing it because I read the story too late.’
‘Are you alright?’
I took pictures of my bandaged leg that was wrapped but blood was still seeping through. I took pictures of my battered face, and my bruised ribs. I sent them all to Bob.
‘Good Lord, man, what did you do?’
‘I fell out of the tower.’
‘You did what?’
‘Was leaning over the edge of the walkway when one of the animals smashed into the support leg and shook the tower, knocking me over.’
‘How are you alive?’
‘Tree caught me.’
‘I’ll call the paramedics and come in early to relieve you.’
‘I’ll be laying here on the couch, bleeding.’
Then I added, ‘I’ll follow the rules from now on.’
There was static on the radio and a faint voice said, “You’d better.”
***
When Bob unlocked the hatch and led the EMTs in, he didn’t have that grin on his face.
“You ok, kid?” he said.
“Hunky dory, how about you?” I said laying on the cushions that were soaked in my own blood.
“He might be in shock,” one of the EMTs said.
My rescue was an adventure in itself. When they examined me they informed me that my leg was broken. I was sweating trying to go back down those steps with a splint on. I could just see me slipping near the top and falling again. There didn’t seem to be any trees close enough to catch me on this side.
Apparently, the EMTs seemed to be thinking the same thing. Someone came up with the brilliant idea of tying me to a backboard and trying to carry me down the steps. After two EMTs nearly fell, they decided to tie it to a rope and lower me like a sack of potatoes.
They rigged up a rope around one of the support poles for the walkway. Watching the rope scrape along the edges of the wood, fraying as it went was probably more terrifying than anything I’d experienced last night.
Floating in the air, spinning slowly didn’t help my fear of heights any. I decided to close my eyes and try to stay as still as possible so the balance wouldn’t be disturbed and slide me out of the end to fall to my death.
I was extremely grateful when the board hit the ground. My adrenaline finally crashed and I fell into a deep sleep as they loaded me into the ambulance.
***
Truth be told, I’m absolutely terrified to go back to the tower. It’s not like I have a lot of choices. Park ranger is a good paying job and sitting around watching for fires is about the easiest job I’ve ever heard of.
If you take away the supernatural voices, bizarre wildlife, strange lights, and the stairs of death.
I’m hoping paying attention to the rules will keep me safe.
I’m posting this as a warning. If your job has some strange rules, make sure you follow them, no matter how stupid you think they might be.

Has anyone purchased a house that has a bathroom without ventilation fans? Are there any good ways to adapt the bathroom to have a ventilation fan? Currently the bathroom has a ceiling air vent for moving air into the room, but nothing else. Open to after market retrofit options but trying to avoid having to use a window box fan.
This house isn’t huge but in our price range, and I’d like to have some tan system in place to displace shower steam and bathroom odors. Any advice would be super appreciated! Thanks Reddit fam

I’ve had this shortcut working for quite some time and then recently (probably the last few months) it stopped working.
The intention is that it gets the outside temperature max for the day, asks if it’s within the current setting of my thermostat and then reminds me to open the windows for fresh air.
Problem is, when it gets the forecast, it’s no long just getting the temperature. I have no idea why. I’ve been playing around with it instead of duplicating the shortcut so it’s all messed up right now. I have no idea what changed or how to just get the text temperature.
https://www.icloud.com/shortcuts/9f881975259c454fab876ded97697ffa

I have had to have surgery on both. At this time I'm not allowed to go anywhere with my dog alone. ( according to husband and surgeon.)I'm so depressed. The hand situation did not heal properly because there is no way that I could leave my dog inside for the length of my recovery. Well I've learned a lesson and feel like God came down and bitch slapped me with a broken arm. I am super active and independent. It's a real wake up when I can't put on clothes,let alone bra would be impossible. Ugh This is the thing, I'm really unsure what to do? My dog is amazing. I have people that ask me at least once a month if I would consider selling him. He is a Catahoula, he is great with dogs,people,babies, you name it. Catahoula's are working dogs, I knew this when he was 8weeks and picked him up. He was planned. He is almost 5 years old. What the problem is both accidents happened at my house right in the front. The first one when I broke my pinky, shattered my knuckle on the finger next to it and spranged my wrist happened because the neighbor who lives next door has a horrible little dog that she used to let roam freely. It would come straight to my front window and terrorize my dog. We tried to get them friendly and her dog bit me, a trainer and my dog. My dog is 90 lbs muscle. Her dog is maybe 15 20lbs. Then her dog continued to get out and one day when my dog and I were leaving her dog bit me then my dog and I guess my dog had enough and he nearly killed her dog. Actually no blood but choked him out. She finally has stopped him from going outside off leash. We also found out that before this she has had at least two dogs put down for fighting her dog. So I know that I need to keep my dog safe. My dog is only reactive at my house. Perfect when he goes to his camp when out of town. They use my dog to vet potential new dogs to make sure they are safe. Great off leash. When I get home with him everyday its like going to hell. Her dog barks all day. He is renting space in my dogs head. Her dog is my alarm clock. It goes outside and starts barking and at that point my dog goes from sound asleep to on all 4's and starts howling until I let him outside in our backyard and then if her dog in out in the part of her yard that meets my yard the two dogs run up and down the fence. No grass grows in this area . It's a mud pile. All day it's non stop war. We have not had a run in with them in two years. My dog has NEVER ONCE,no accidents, nothing,ever been in our front yard with out his leash. If it would ever be his fault he would be put down by her. Or it would be a big fight. Actually he wouldn't because I'd hit the road. Or end up in jail. ( I've never been to jail and I'm a 50 yr old woman). So the first hand I was reading my mail sitting in my truck in my driveway like an idiot. My dog is always wrapped around my hand a million times. She opened her front door and let her dog out and who knows if she did it on purpose (because she does these type of things to make the situation worse and that is another long story,she is not mentally fit) however she had to get a front fence so her dog would not escape. Of course the fence is only 3ft tall so it has stopped her dog from coming over but if my dog gets loose, he could clear that fence in a heartbeat. So I'm vigilant and for the last 3.5 years he can't get away from me. Back to me being an idiot reading my mail, my dog lunged out of my truck, I caught major air and broke the shit out of my hand. Two weeks later had surgery on the knuckle because it was demolished. I do not have the type of dog that I can sit around with. If he does not get out 3 hours a day and do training,running,playing with other dogs then I will have an aggressive dog. If I skip a day my dog makes me pay for it. So I did not take as good of care as I should have after surgery and my knuckle is thrashed. The arm surgeon has said that he wouldn't touch it. I'm screwed for life. Not only is it still broken, I'm in a lot of pain. Then because that was my right arm , I was wrapping his leash when we leave around my left hand and we had left to go on a walk, she ( the neighbor )has cameras all over our yards and I don't really mind because it's to make sure that the dogs do not meet. Anyways I forgot my phone, my dog and I ran back in, and he is still wrapped around my left hand. She saw us leave, I don't think she saw us come back,she let her dog out and when I opened my front door,her dog barked, my dog took off like a bat out of hell and my left arm went through the door with my dog and I got caught inside and it snapped my arm. I thought I was going to die. It hurt really bad. I feel so sorry for myself. It literally crushed the bone. I have a metal plate from my palm to the middle of my arm. If I did not have surgery it was a cast for 6 weeks and possibly pain for life. With surgery it's this metal plate then in 2 weeks start physical therapy. Then surgery on the knuckle with the spring type device that I stretched the spring and now my finger is just broken and healing in the wrong direction. This does not allow pictures but when anybody looks at my hand they just make a sound that is like agony and pain. On top of all of this , I'm definitely a Tom boy but I've always taken care of myself. I do care about my appearance. I've always acted like I'm a lot younger than my age and I feel disgusted with myself. I can't shower. Taking a bath is challenging. My hair is a rats nest. I'm not good at asking for help. I'm proud. I'm not comfortable with people seeing me naked. I hate pain killers. Normally right now in our world doctors are hesitant to prescribe pain meds and I hate them but my doctors are begging me to take them and sit still. It's really hard. If you are still with me, thank you and I know this is long. I did not know how to ask a question with out a back story. This is my question.. Tomorrow night I have a trainer and a behaviorist coming over to help with my dog and see the situation. I've talked with them and told them what I've told you. I do not see what could have been trained into my dog that could have helped this. It was my fault. I should have been more vigilant in my truck reading the mail or should have been inside. I have control over my dog when I'm paying attention. It's hard but I've got him. My dog is always going to react to a squirrel, cat and the dog next door. The trainers even said it would be impossible to train it out of this type of breed. I'm not sure how familiar anyone reading this is with catahoula's but anyone who has one, a 100% catahoula knows that they are a different breed of dogs. He is the best dog I've ever had but he is a challenge and he was not a mistake. I wanted the challenge. It's been great up to this point. Does anyone have any ideas for me. From what to do during the day inside for mental stimulation? Also what should I concentrate on with the trainer? The neighbor will not do anything to help. She probably loves this. Sadly we have had letters in our mailbox about her dog and him being a nuisance. I can't get on board with mob mentality and I don't want her dog put down. I think she does love him.i don't get the 3ft fence and if tables were turned she would have been the person who started the letter about my dog. She would kill my dog herself if she could. Anyways she is going to be no help. Any ideas? Constructive criticism, anything that might help me I'd really appreciate. I'm at an all time low right now. I feel gross,look gross, pain,guilt,anger,soooooo mad at myself I could die. I was supposed to go home to help my parents,they are out of state and dad has lung cancer and mom is close to 80. They had to help me. I feel so awful. They don't need to be worrying about 50 year old daughter that acts like I'm a 12 year old boy. Ugh. Thanks again

Ko-fi
Jerry Spencer lay flat on his tummy, a coordinations gadget sitting before him, he read things like altitude, wind velocity, air movement and distance modulators to the man lying beside him, Tim, Tim Button, the best assassin earth had to offer who lay beside Jerry with a P-fragment Sniper riffle in hand. The butt of the large gun was placed to Tim's left shoulder, the trigger finger of his left hand pressed just gently over the trigger button, the tip of the Sniper riffle pointed towards the East Bridge summit where the King of Planet Anphilia was to meet with the Congress alien Gorgolok. So far no one occupied the bridge and thus started the waiting game until someone did occupy it.
"The sun looks beautiful over the west end." Jerry said, he was bored and in need of conversation. He admired the man lying beside him with seventy two confirmed kills, but Tim made for a silent man and when he did speak most of the things he said didn't make any sense, A good killer, Tim was but an awful conversationist. But Jerry was bored and who knew when the King of Planet Anphilia was to emerge and meet with Gorgolok.
"The sun killed my father." Tim said.
Jerry arched a brow. "How did the sun kill your father?"
A short silenced ensued that was later punctuated by Tim as he stared through the Sniper's lens. "It was June, mid June, my father was walking to the North of Salton Bay, he had a hooker there he went to hook up with. Right as he was about to cut the corner through Elm Street, that's when he died. That's when the sun killed him."
Jerry raised both brows, puzzled. "How exactly did the sun kill your father?"
Tim let out a frustrated sigh, "I told you, the sun killed my father when he went to meet with his hooker."
Jerry pondered over the matter. Did Tim's father suffer a heat stroke? Or did the sun's rays hitting him startle him to death. He knew a man once who was startled by the sun. Maybe it was a thing.
"I know a man once who was startled by the sun," Jerry started. "He was lying in bed and the sun got to him through his window shutters, he opened his eyes and was startled by the blinding light." Jerry chuckled. "He'd thought he'd died and gone to heaven."
"I once saw a green pig." Tim said. "I opened my eyes one morning and there it was, inches from my face. I blinked and it was gone, that's how you know you're going to hell."
"What do you mean going to hell?"
"Well blinding light means going to heaven, right? So what does hell look like? Can't be darkness. It's a green pig, a green pig comes for you." Tim coughed, turned his head and spat out a mouthful of phlegm, he then made the sign of the cross and rested his hands back on the Sniper riffle.
Jerry wondered if he'd ever seen a green pig before. He also wondered whether Tim was mentally sound. Seventy two confirmed alien kills, that ought to take a toll on a man's mind. Like his great grandfather who'd been in the war. Always shat himself whenever a car honked too loud.
Jerry stared at the bridge, someone was going to lose their life, right there on the bridge. It'd be seventy three confirmed kills for Tim, he wondered if that would add on to the burden of taken souls Tim already carried. "Say Tim, who are we suppose to assassinate today?"
Tim took a moment to answer. "The alien with horns." He said. "I only saw the picture once, pink looking fellow with horns. Reminds me of my ex wife."
"How does the alien remind you of your ex wife?"
"She had a pink vagina."
"But all of them have pink vaginas."
Tim turned from the Sniper lens and gawked at Jerry. "You sure?" He genuinely asked.
"I'm certain. Wait, have you never been with another woman besides your wife?" Jerry asked.
Tim returned his gaze to the Sniper lens. "I've only been with one woman."
"You must have really loved her then."
"I don't believe in love." Tim said.
Jerry took a moment to ponder those words. "Why then have you only been with one woman if it wasn't for love?"
"She knew math. She could divide twenty eight by two in her mind and tell me the answer. A smart woman that one."
"Twenty eight by two is fourteen." Jerry answered.
Tim gasped. "You're like her."
Jerry wondered at Tim, the places he's been, the things he's seen. He seemed like quite the peculiar fellow. His military record alone spoke of this, seventy two confirmed kills, more than anyone who'd ever enlisted. "If our mission is a success today, you'll have seventy three confirmed kills, how'd that make you feel?" He asked.
"I don't care about the kills, I do this for my mother."
Jerry turned fully to face Tim. "What do you mean you do it for your mother?"
Tim took a moment to answer, as if pondering the words to say. "She always told me, 'Tim, in whatever you do make sure you're always killing it.' So that's what I do, I kill... things. For her."
Tim moved his position higher, Sniper riffle in hand, it's holder level with the ground before them. "Here they come." He said.
True enough, two aliens had emerged onto the bridge, tall fat fellows with pink skin. Each of them wore a white hat.
"Oh oh." Tim said.
"What is it?" Jerry asked. Leaning for the lens.
"They are two pink aliens with hats, can't tell which one has horns."
Jerry peered into the lens and handed back the Sniper riffle to Tim. "We'll have to go back to headquarters, regroup and gather more data."
Tim exhaled, leaned into the Sniper riffle, rested his finger on the trigger and fired two quick shots. The two solitary aliens on the bridge collapsed.
Jerry panicked. "You were suppose to kill only one of them! The one with horns! You've killed both! Do you know how bad this is?"
"Its for my momma." Tim said, rising off the ground.
"What do you mean it's for your momma?" Jerry asked, perturbed.
Tim dusted himself. "She told me to always kill it."

im doing biochem at jmu in the fall and im looking for a laptop to buy. i already have a nice gaming PC im bringing with me. i figured if i need to run any sort of program for class i can do it on my PC. i’m hoping i wont ever have to run anything on my laptop but i dont know if thats the case. my PC will be my primary homework computer.
i want to get something that runs windows because i hateee ios. ive had hp laptops before that are almost unusable after 6 months, it drove me crazy, so im really paranoid about picking the right laptop.
my budget is up to $1000. my mom already has one of the newer macbook airs, i dont know how old it is but she got it for christmas, its at least a year old. i dont like ios but i will tolerate it if im just taking notes on it. thoughts?