November- There was't a warning.

There wasn’t a warning. There should’ve been. Instead there was one science fiction movie with horribly over-done special effects, a package of slightly stale popcorn, and a five-minute stroll in the streets before the confrontation of The Girl lying facedown on the street in front of them, unconscious and bleeding.

Many things are known to induce panic in humans, blood being somewhat near the top of the list. There were blood in this current situation, and there were a rather lot of it.

Mike did what any logical, thinking person would do under the given circumstances: he checked that the girl was real, that he was real, that everything else about this situation was real, then calmed freaked out.

“Mon Dieu! Que diable—” Besides him, Nick was doing the slightly less eloquent and more children-friendly version of the same thing, albeit in French.

“Hell,” said Zach quite simply, looking faintly sick.

“Okay, let’s be calm. I’m calm. I’m calm. Are you calm?” Mike looked at Nick.

“MOI?!” Nick stared at him like he just said something crazy, or stupid, or stupidly crazy, which wasn’t far from truth, and waved a hand in front of Mike’s face. “Bonjour?”

“Maybe not.” Mike paced two slightly erratic circles around the inert figure on the ground. “Give me some help here, Zach!”

“You mean hysteria isn’t an option?” Zach took a deep breath and cautiously edged closer to the girl.

“You’re suppose to be the calm and objective one, is she alive? Is she going to stay alive? What the hell is going on?” Mike demanded, tracing another lopsided circle with his path and nearly tripping over Zach, who was kneeling beside the girl and generally getting himself in the way.

“Can’t help you with the last question,” said Zach, who looked somewhat dazed. “But she’s alive and, uh, I think she’ll stay alive. She…doesn’t seem to be injured seriously at all.”

“Oh. Well, that’s just fine then,” said Mike. “Nick, get a grip and start talking in English. Do we call the ambulance?”

Nick stared at him then slowly shook his head.

“Why?” asked Zach, in what he obviously thought was a very reasonable tone of voice. A split second later lightning struck not three feet away from where they were standing, and a swiftly gathering storm let them know that they would expect more just like it, except perhaps with better aim. “Okay the sky was clear a few moments ago, I am awake, clear-headed and freaked out and there’re lightning bolts about to strike us.”

“Well that’s just great,” Mike grunted as he picked up the girl. “My God she’s heavier than she looks. Nick, a little help here?” Another lightning bolt struck, much closer this time and frying an unhappy newspaper stand nearby. “NICK?”

Zach was frantically searching the sky above him. “Let’s get out of here let’s get out of here let’s get out of here—”

“We’re taking her along?” asked Nick, wide-eyed and with a heavy accent.

“What does it LOOK like I’m doing?” Yelled Mike, exasperated. Or as close to yelling as someone who was strained with a heavy burden could go. Without another word Nick took the girl from Mike. “Let’s go, Zach,” called Mike.

“It’s ten o’ clock, on a Friday night, and there’re things I don’t understand trying to kill us,” said Zach, giving the sky a last worried frown before running after his friends. “Is there something I’m missing?”

[I'm giving a heads-start on November, seeing how I'll be doing NaNoWriMo. Happy? =p ]