DESPITE SLEEPING LATE-NIGHT AFTER MIDNIGHT, after an enjoyable evening at the school-ball, Jane woke up at 7:00 AM – her usual school-timing, to rise-and-shine. She sat in bed, in her pyjama and looked-across at her sweaty black-dress, in the laundry basket… and smiled to the thought of ‘how’ Paul had taught her how-to dance that evening… and their kissing too…

She looked up at her sports-trophy rack – and saw Paul’s dance award, sitting among her other accolades that her-teen version but… her-Paul had ‘won-his’ last night, ‘was’ for her…

She then-recalled her confusing-dream of last-night, in the Dreamworld… when arriving at the Garden-of-Eden paradise, but ‘not’ to find Paul there… and she searched for him, but he was nowhere to be found – even asked-around some of the winged cupids, of his whereabouts – and they formed a search party…

… but only ‘FOUND’ HIS RACING BICYCLE…

‘… it’s just a dream, you-silly… don’t worry… he’s probably home, in his bed sleeping… too ‘early’ to disturb him, let him sleep… I’ll call him later…’

She went downstairs in her pyjama, as it was Sunday… passing her parent’s room with the door open, and her daddy was still sleeping. She heard her mummy and brother’s voices when she approached the kitchen. They were at the table, eating their pancakes and drinking fresh milk.

Jane ate her warm pancakes, and listened to their conversation, it was all-about ‘poor’ Lord Stamford who was shot-and-injured by a ‘terrorist,’ which was now a world's shocking news, after he came-over, to revive Perthland’s economy…

… the teenager observed that they-both had so-much respect for the philanthropist-visitor – where they don’t ‘know’ him, being from the Underworld, as the evil All-Father, as a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Jane hoped he was ‘died’ by-now… and whoever that ‘terrorist’ was, HAD DONE humanity a ‘big’ favour…

… Jane was quiet, and did ‘not’ participate in the hot-topic of conversation… her-mummy noticed that and changed the topic by asking how ‘was’ the school’s evening ball. Jane reached across the table, and held Shelley’s hand and thanked her for the black-dress… ‘telling’ her that her ‘friends’ praised it, and she went dancing…

… at the same time, she was looking at Samuel’s face ‘changing’ – as his-Sis danced with Paul Walker ‘not’ Dougie… BUT HE COULD ‘NOT’ SAY-IT… as she got some ‘leverage’ on him, for letting him to drive her car…

“Jaheem, pass me the syrup.”

She ‘tested’ him – whether he was in talking-terms with her… after his angry-outburst at the school’s parking lot last night, WITH HIS DISAPPROVAL that she danced with Paul and ‘not’ Dougie – and dumped the latter…

He passed the syrup.

Jane next diverted to the-attention to her brother…

“Mummy, you should-have seen Jaheem performing on stage yesterday, he was incredible as he flew-in like Batman… but on wires…”

… Jane chucked, before continuing…

“… everyone loved his performance with his dancers – I think the show he put-in, was the highlight of the whole evening.”

Jane took a step-back, sipping her milk – while listening to Samuel talking in-enthusiasm of his successful-show to their-proud mother… sharing with her a video of his-rapping… but Jane’s mind by-then, into the dance competition, which she enjoyed-even ‘better’…

… where her-boyfriend ‘WON’ HIS-FIRST PRIZE for her.

Soon after 8 AM, their family-time was over – Shelley was washing the dishes, and was planning to cook lunch. The brother-and-sister went to the living room – Samuel switched on the video-game and wanted to play Grand Turismo. Jane joined him and sat on the floor…

“I want to play too…”

“… err, what…? But-Sis, you don’t play video-games… you said it’s a waste of time…”

“That was then, but-now… I want to ‘learn’ how-to… come, you teach-me, Boyyo…”

For the next hour, Jane was having fun, on a new-skill, when she had just learnt, the hand-held control… trying to keep-up, with her brother who was in his-expert level…

… in this virtual world, where driving-by-the road-rules don’t apply… and so does the shooting, and ‘killing’ any bad-people, who came in THE WAY OF ‘WINNING’…

…in her-Perth, she was a B-girl whose bestie-Alicia was-also an avid gamer… into playing ‘fighting’ video-games – and blind-Jane was fascinated when she told her ‘stories’ – of the exciting backstories, of martial-art games like Mortal Kombat… and so-much-so… it was a coincidence that the version of Alicia in this teen-Perthland, was into martial-arts too… but in real-life ‘now,’ teen-Alicia was her rival, since her-winning #1 SHS’ Sport-Girl award.

It was coming to 10 AM…

… Jane was in 2-worlds, as she was thinking mainly of her boyfriend, who was also into playing video-war-games, such-as NOVA 3, in their world. Paul too told her blind-self, of war-combat and mission stories, during their school-recess break – whenever they wanted ‘escapism’ from the perils of the Evil-one, to Perth…

… by-playing ‘such’ video-games, gave Paul some ‘perspective’ to the Cursed-trio’s mission strategies to fight BlackStar, the Mother of Natural-Disasters… which they-have executed successfully as StarGirl and Blue-Gemini… with their ally-Mercury, as Red-Gemini…

… it was nice-and-pasty, back there, where the Cursed-trio always immerged as winners, each time, in their-Perth…

… but the reality was that video-games were ‘just’ video-games, as a past-time, in Perthland – where both she-and-Paul… do ‘not’ have their superpowers anymore, to fight-evil…

… that was why Jane was pinning her ‘only’ hope that… Lord Stamford SHOULD-AND-WOULD DIE-soon… and that was JANE’S ‘STRATEGY’ FOR PERTHLAND – to find her-peace on the land, and in the world as its-whole.

It was coming to 11 AM…

… Jane was left-far behind in the game, from Samuel who was in-the-zone of his-own, accomplishing missions – where-else his-Sis was bogged with thoughts of ‘what-ifs’ evil prevailed the-good … and ‘winning’ the game-of-life, in the multi-verse worlds…

She was thinking a lot of ‘what-ifs’ in the SeeIn’s recent message of gloom-and-doom – and she lost her-focus in Grand Turismo after almost 3 hours, of learning-via-playing. Jane wanted to BADLY HEAR PAUL’s voice-now, whom she missed since ‘last’ hearing-him, from last night…

… her mind was clouding with seeds of negative thoughts of ‘losing’ … and playing video-games was ‘not’ helping, to keep her head ‘straight.’

She put down the hand-held control, and excused herself… despite her brother, protesting and urging her to continue to play on, and complete their ‘missions’ together. But Jane declined – and went to the kitchen, to see her mother basting a roast chicken, in the oven.

She popped-in her depression med-pill and had a drink of kiwi juice before, she headed upstairs to her bedroom.

-O-

Jane tried calling Paul’s iPhone… after 10 rings, it went to his voice-mail and she left a friendly reminder message to call back. She sat at her desk, staring at the dance award which he gave her last night… and called him again…

… after the 2nd call, the same Paul’s voice-mail ‘spoke’ again, to leave a message… in a concerned tone she spoke, if he was ‘alright’ before she hung-up.

Jane became scared and her heart pounded-hard, as-if she had lost’ him – and-last night was their last goodbye… in-frightful tears, she called him for the 3rd time…

… tills of ring-beat after ring-beat passed…

‘… please-Pauly… please pick-up… don’t let me leave to hear your voice message again… please pick-up, I beg you…please…’

After the 9th ring beat-tone… a groggy-voice sounded, at the other end…

“…yea-hh…”

Jane was crying to-him, as she blabbed of-thoughts that-something ‘bad’ had happened to him on-the-way since he had to cycle 18 km to reach the Dicksons… with a follow-up story – of her ‘bad’ dream, in the Dreamworld where she did ‘not’ see him there…

… but only finding his lost racing-bike…

Paul sat quiet in-pain, and passively listened to his girlfriend… his head was still spinning by the residue after-effects of the potent psychedelic Gochi… with-his entire body was aching all over too, a result of his competitive breakdancing… and his jaw hurt too after he was punched by the loser, Ken Chan…

… he was piecing-up the ‘episodes’ of what he had gone through, after midnight… in that hour-or-so, in Perthland Royal Hospital, and had a ‘SIMILAR’ OCCURRENCE to Jane’s dreamland story… where his racing bike was sucked-into a mystical opening of a portal, as he fell-over.

He finally spoke…

“… Jane… I’ve been… drugged…”

“What!!? How did that happen…?”

Paul narrated the chronology of events, where he was blocked by the Chinese motorcyclist bikers, who were there to jump-him and intimidate him… but rode off once they heard the police-siren escorting the limo, where Peter and Jezebel were in… heading to the hospital…

… he left-out telling that he got punched by Ken… as ‘not’ to look ‘wimpy’ to his girlfriend.

“… I then decided to follow them, to the hospital to collect-us some intel – and on the way there in the car, Peter gave me a drink, which I drank… and-since I felt weird and strange when I was in the hospital… and even, had a vision of my-dead father with a burning-revelation that Peter – is doing a GRAVE MISTAKE, BY DONATING HIS BLOOD.”

For the next 10 minutes, Jane was listening and seeing Paul in the video-call explain that Peter has a rare blood type – which was last-confirmed by Kimura Star, her-own Uncle Jack’s company’s medical-staff that-confirmed that… he ‘did’ possessed the ‘the Golden blood-type,’ which was also Lord Stamford’s type too…

… that-which gave him longevity to live, to-a ripe prophet-age… of more than a hundred years.

Her heart then sank… when Paul told that Lord Stamford DID ‘NOT’ DIE in the assassination attempt – and his SURGERY HAD-GONE SUCCESSFULLY – and now, he wanted Peter to follow him to the UK…

He then-further her told that the greedy-Peter wanted to follow, as he already monetizing his ‘game-plan’ of his-blood-business – by the millions in transections he would receive in his bank-account, made per-donation. When Paul told him of his dead father's warning that LORD STAMFORD WAS ASMODEUS, it was where he almost had a heated altercation… when he told his twin that he ‘disapproved’ of him going away. Peter next ‘chased-him’ away – and the limo driver had driven him home, at 3-plus in the AM…

“Asmodeus had used that bitch-Jezebel to lure your-twin.” Jane scoffed.

Paul felt guilty for ‘not’ believing… when he heard Jane ‘not’ trusting Jezebel, last evening – now he felt her intuition as ‘true,’ that Jezebel was an indeed-the major culprit of deception – where in just 3-days, she had deceived Peter into love, as the new ‘Perthland’s Famous Couple’… as a good-Samaritan, who had housed the runaway-next, in her uncle’s hotel… and now, taking his twin away for good, to the-UK…

… his twin-Peter was now the ‘sucker’ – who was drunk by her enchanted-love and the enormous wealth, in a windfall dropping in his-lap… where-he was pampered into the ruse, that led by his-nose… like a rare-blooded prized-greedy-pig…

“Pauly, what are we going to do about it?”

He had no definitive answer for her…

… because here in Perthland, that they were ‘trapped-in,’ Jane and Paul were 2 able-bodied teenagers with no superpower… 2 nobodies who were mere submissive bystanders – facing the all-powerful Asmodeus and his minions from the Underworld, who were posing in broad-daylight, as high-tabled world-icons deceivers, with every-nations’ laws to protect them…

… where-else at their home-Perth, they-both were handicap-tweens who had their ‘given’ mighty superpowers – WHO HAD STOPPED the evil Asmodeus and minions, on several dire occasions, back-there.

“I don’t know Jane, I don’t know what Asmodeus ‘plans’ are for Peter in this realm, once they hit the UK shores…”

“Does that mean, the Cursed-trio had failed in Egypt, back then?”

“No, that was a victory for us… you had personally destroyed the blood-vial, at the Dark-tower and had-boldly rescued Peter’s soul, condemned in a dungeon-cell in the Underworld.”

He cheered her-up… but deep-down, HE REGRETTED, that he had ‘not’ used his Plan-B… when he found Peter in Perth, A WEEK AGO – fallen inside a crater in the SHS tennis-court, after hit by an earthquake, during the PFC outdoors-tennis rematch…

… had he ‘killed’ his twin that day… they WOULDN’T HAVE COME TO PERTHLAND, the next day as teenagers…

… and, the Curse of Asmodeus would ‘not’ be walking on earth in Peter’s youth ‘vessel,’ the ‘war’ would have ENDED THAT DAY. And, that marked the end-of evil-threat in Perth… as a sign of ‘their’ defeat.

“Right now, it’s the same problem, of the same ‘shit,’ in a different bucket…” Paul sighed.

“But WE HAVE TO RESCUE Peter… he should ‘not’ go-away to the UK…”

“How-so, Jane – it’s ‘not’ like we are going to rescue your dog-Piper, this is far-bigger… the-Peter-now doesn’t want to listen to to-any ‘reasoning’… he’s ‘in’ a world-of-his-own with his resistance to us…

“SHOULD WE BREAK THE LAW, and get ourselves arrested, in our ‘mission?’”

Jane didn’t answer… Paul saw her sniffling, in his iPhone screen…

For the next half-hour, they discussed their ‘options’ in Perthland… which were mainly ‘not’ in their-favour, with their ‘disadvantages’ that were stopping them…

… even the Dickson, who were ‘passive-citizens,’ would ‘never’ stand against the ‘law’ and of Peter’s ‘wanting’ will to go-away… as they would gladly sign-off any release-paper, to let-go of-their ‘burden’ in their hands.

In their bleak-moment, Jane was quiet as she heard her boyfriend, who did most of their ‘brain-rattling,’ as he was Peter’s twin… who-knew the devil-better...

… Jane, unlike yesterday evening, she was all-lovey-dovey with her-Pauly at the ball, but today… Paul Walker was all-serious, in life-decisions options…

… she noticed Paul was ‘not’ touching on-the topic of SeeIn’s morbid-revelations that – in order for the Cursed-trio to RETURN-BACK TO PERTH… they have to take THEIR ‘OWN’ LIVES…

… neither DID SHE ASK.

It was close to noon, when Paul heard the doctor-mother’s voice in the background, asking Jane to some-down for lunch. Jane excused herself, by saying she would call him again later. Paul too realized that he had forgotten of an Easter-lunch, with the Dickson’s rello who would be joining them.

He got off his bed, with pains-and-aches – and limped to the towel rack… and-noticed that, looking out of the window… it was smoky-afternoon…

“… bloody bushfires…”

Paul walked to the bathroom and had a quick shower… he dressed up in his Sunday’s best – of a long sleeved-shirt, tailored-black pants and his leather black-shoes… and went downstairs.

-O-

He came down and found the Mr & Mrs busy in the kitchen… Joe was at the washbasin, washing and drying-up the wine glasses, while Caroline was baking Salmon. He asked her…

“Anything for me to help?”

“No.” Caroline said flatly… and looked up… “What happened to your face?”

“Did you get into a fight?” Joe chimed.

“No… I fell off the bike” Paul lied.

“Is my bike broken?”

Joe didn’t wait for his response and went to check-on ‘his’ bicycle, that was hung on pegs, on the kitchen wall, to see for any-damages. Paul swore to himself never to borrow his bike again – he then went to the dining-hall and noticed the Dicksons had cooked-up a wide Easter lunch-spread – with a Dijon rack-of-lamb at the centre of the table, a basket of hot-cross buns… and for desserts, was a pre-sliced Simmer-cake, and savoury Easter biscuits.

The guests were ‘not’ here yet – Paul switched-on the telly, to catch the latest of the ‘UK-visitors’… but-saw PM John Blake instead… just-in-time, of hearing…

… a horn outside – the guests have arrived – with the excited Joe rushing first to the door, and welcoming his elder-brother and nephews.

Paul saw both the Dickson-brothers hugging each-other at the driveway, exchanging Easter greetings, next with 2 teenaged boys, who called him Uncle-Joe…

Paul recognized the obese-man as Seth from the Dicksons’ photo-album, where he was there in their-wedding, with his wife…

… he had also gathered more-info of this-Uncle Seth, who worked as an accountant – from eavesdropping into dinner-conversation of 5 days… where he was a now widower with his wife passing-away from ovary-cancer. Uncle Seth was a single father of Mervin & Melvin.

The friendly-younger bespectacled boy approached him…

“Hey-Cuz, how are you – Happy Easter… where is Peter?”

… Paul was tongue-tied as shook his hand, and wondering if he was Mervin or Melvin – until he heard Caroline’s excited-voice coming from the dining-room…

“Melvin.”

“Hey, God-Ma, Happy Easter!”

Caroline placed the spinach-and-parmesan baked salmon-dish at the table and went over to hug and kiss him. Soon he heard a deep-raspy-voiced Mervin greeted, and passed, brushing-over his side…

“Auntie Carol, Happy Easter!”

She hugged and kissed the lanky-teenager too, while Paul sighed, sensing the affections and warmth, Mrs Dickson showered towards both her step-nephews… and ‘not’ both her-sons…

-O-

Soon everyone sat at the dining table, and Joe poured wine in the glasses while his elder brother Seth was apologizing to them, for being late as they were stuck in traffic, due to the bushfire – Caroline told that her younger-brother Bill Turner, was ‘not’ spending his Easter with his family, as he was on duty as a firefighter.

… that was a ‘familiar’ name – as Paul had an Uncle-Bill back-there too, who was his mother’s younger brother, who was also a firefighter… and his late-peepaw lived with him – Paul wondered whether his WW2 soldier-grandfather was still-alive, in this-realm…

… he missed his old grandfather's war-time stories, where he had told him-some good-ol’ adventures – when he told Paul of his-missions at his ripe-90, in age… too-bad, peepaw don’t have the Golden-blood-type…

… or-else he could live, as old as Lord Stamford…

Before they feasted, Mervin Dickson, the eldest-born, said grace at the table… mentioning his dead-mother Janet who was ‘not’ present in the gathering – they toasted ‘Happy Easter’ – and clinked their wine glasses. Soon they were in merriment in table-talks, and the boys loved and respected their Uncle Joe and Auntie Carol, as they told what they were doing in their lives… in their respective schools…

… Paul was quiet, focusing on his roast-lamb and baked-salmon as he listened that – Mervin was in college, a first-year medical-student in dentistry… while his younger brother was 15, was a Math-genius in a Top-school, who won several competitions, and his ambition was to be a scientist, someday…

‘… whoa… that was Jane’s ambition too… back in Perth…’

Then, Uncle Seth spoke…

“Paul, what will you be doing, after you graduate?”

He saw his parents cringing in their seats, anticipating what would be the loser-Walker-teen would respond…

“I’ve… ‘not’ decided yet…”

The table was quiet a moment, processing what he had just said…

‘… well, Unca-Seth… maybe I would be a dance instructor in the gig economy… you should have seen my performance last night, where I too won the first prize like your Melvin-did…’

Then Melvin Dickson broke the silence, with his enthusiasm…

“Auntie Carol, where is Peter? I saw him on TV – that he is-now like a Rock-star celebrity, dating the world’s popular socialite Jezebel Crowley, as Perthland Famous Couple…”

Both Caroline and Joe cringed even more, into their Catholic-guilt and shame. Paul noticed that – when in a sad-voiced Caroline told her-rello, that Peter had fought-and-left home, to be with his ‘girlfriend’…

… even Paul-himself sighed, as his-brother Peter was Carol’s ‘favourite’ of the twins-sons, in this-realm… and was ‘lost’ to the family-now…

‘…well, guess what is the ‘latest’ folks – PETER WOULD-BE GOING TO UK SOON… as a blood-bag to the wounded Lord Stamford… who had ‘tricked’ him with promises of wealth, and setting-off his seductive-and-sexy grand-niece, TO SEDUCE HIM TO AGREE… that he would have a better life, in the greener pasture, over there…

‘… but-unfortunately, he WOULD-BE A ‘PRISONER’ OVER THERE too… because Lord Stamford, whom you-all ‘trust’ is actually the evil All-Father Asmodeus…

… but you-who are-raised Catholics wouldn’t definitely ‘not’ believe-me if I had told you – that the DEVIL IS LIVING-AND-WALKING, in our bloody-own presence…’

But Paul did ‘not’ say that – as it was a family gathering… he passively broke the hot-cross bun, dipping into the salmon’s butter-sauce as he ate… and listening to the elder Uncle Seth… who was consoling both Joe and Caroline, as he wished Peter ‘good-luck’ in his future-endeavours. But Melvin-added, and told them at the table, that Cousin-Peter was the ‘luckiest’ guy in the world.

Half-way into the Easter-lunch, Seth Dickson glanced-over at the telly in mute, in the living-room with the news-station… that featured Lord Stamford, who was recovering at Perthland Royal Hospital. Soon the conversation at the table was on the shot-dead ‘terrorist’ of last night, who ‘failed’ in his assassination attempt, as the good-old Lord Stamford had-survived…

… everyone’s prayers on the table were that… the world-famous, wealthy philanthropist whom they-all love, admire-and-trust – would-be standing-on his-feet again, and continue his generous ‘giving,’ TO MAKE THE WORLD THEY LIVE-IN, A BETTER PLACE. After their ‘amens,’ they toasted their red-wine glasses to Lord Stamford’s health…

…as he had risen-from-the-dead, like Jesus Christ on Easter-Day…

… only Paul did ‘not’ participate, in the toast…

Soon at the next hour, the conversation was of the ‘good-old-days,’ of both the Dickson-brother growing up at their farm in the coastal Queensland… ‘not’ disappointing their parents by studying-hard and moving-out on their own, with their ambitions.

They both received phone-calls from relatives with Easter greeting – the ‘highlight’ of the calls was the Dickson-brothers’ eldest-sister Sharon, who was calling from their hometown, in Queensland…

… Paul noticed Caroline was ‘close’ to her husband-side of the Dickson-family since her divorce from her ‘first’ husband… just like his mom was, in his-Perth – where she was close to the Walkers – and the Walkers’ rello too who-were the guests, in the house that Solomon Walker built, during Easters and Christmas parties, which they threw… before the sad-demise of their father-and-husband.

-O-

By the 5th bottle, both of the Dickson-brothers were drunk and lugubrious… as Seth spoke of his dead-wife-Janet, who passed away 2 years ago. Paul was on his 3rd glass of wine, too empathized… as he knew-what the feeling of death-was, as HE TOO LOST SOMEONE whom he dearly loved…

… the ‘drama’ started, when Big-Seth, who broke down and cried at the table, telling them all, that he missed Janet, whom he deeply loved. Both of his-sons, Little-Joe, Caroline were in tears too, as they were consoling and solacing the obese-man. Then the drunk Uncle-Joe gave a heart-to-heart talk to both of his nephews, that their lonely-father should remarry – with both of his sons who would be leaving the ‘nest,’ into their own-endeavours of their lives… with their father left-behind, who would-be into more ‘loneliness’ by-then…

… Mervin and Melvin nodded, to their uncle…

… Paul was distracted by the telly-in-mute… of the flashing IMAGES OF NATURAL DISASTERS, in the rough seas with tsunamis. The-muted TV newscaster’s body language and facial expression that she-had shown was distressing him – with flashing in the TV screen, with words of…

‘Breaking News’

Paul went-over to the muffled-telly… and NOTICED THAT ‘SOMETHING-BAD’ was going-down in the east coast of the country, in that exact moment. He was shocked-by the next-headlines…

‘Earthquakes and Tsunamis in Queensland’

‘… shit… it’s happening ‘again’…’

… the last time he faced the similar tragic-news… was at his-Perth… during the night of the Wilsons’ dinner-invitation, WHERE ‘PETER’ WAS RESPONSIBLE – for thousands of human and marine-lives’ death… when the Great Barrier Reef of Queensland was damaged that night – by the GREAT UNDERWATER EARTHQUAKE, which his-Cursed twin had-created by his massive-negative emotions.

Paul turned on the volume… he was fixated by the commentary and images…

The inebriated Joe at the table was provoked by his stepson’s insensitivity, where they were in the middle of a PERSONAL FAMILY-DISCUSSION…

“Paul, turn off the bloody-telly now!”

But Paul was single-minded, engrossed and hooked – by the ‘live’ broadcast of horror and tragedy, that he stared at…

“You bloody-fool, what did I tell you!”

The drunk-Joe was raged, and got off his chair instantly, and stormed into the living-room – he was about to punch his stepson for disrespecting him, and the Dicksons. Paul looked at him ‘coming’ over…

…and pointed at the telly…

“Joe-look… this is happening in Queensland…”

The blotto Joe was taken aback, as he-too glanced at the TV screen, with the teenager – and recognized some iconic places in Queensland –THAT HE KNEW – which were ‘now’ destructed, as the newscaster was detailing the tragedy…

“Seth! Carol! Come here now!”

Soon, all-of the Dickson family members were gathered in front of the telly, witnessing the horror of tsunamis causing havoc and destruction in the coastal area – Paul was the only one who sat at Joe’s favourite chair, in the living room… mentally processing the catastrophe.

The Dickson-brothers tried in desperation, to call their eldest-sister Sharon and her family – who had greeted them 2 hours-ago, from Port Douglas a coastal town, where the devastating tsunami was ‘now’ taking place.

Paul saw both the brothers were in tears when they could ‘not’ contact their sister… they called-up other relatives living in the-state – to realize-that, they-too even could ‘not’ reach the family. Finally, Joe and Seth decided TO FLY-OVER TO QUEENSLAND…

… and the Easter Sunday lunch ended.

In no time, Big-Seth and his boys got into their Lexus, and told Joe and Caroline that they would MEET THEM AT THE AIRPORT… while Mervin drove them away. Paul looked at Joe and Caroline rushing-up to pack their baggage for the trip.

-O-

In the living room, Paul was glued to the tragic news in the telly… while hearing also to Joe’s urgent-voice upstairs, hurrying his wife…

‘… Joe, sad to say that your sister-Sharon and her family are ‘goners’ – saw it in the telly ‘before,’ in my-Perth… where coastal marine-guards spent 2 weeks, fishing out dead bodies out of the sea-water…

‘… but ‘who’ am I tell you…? When your ‘whole’ world, revolves around ‘you,’ the man-of-the-house…’

Soon, the Mr & Mrs came downstairs with each carrying a duffle-bag, and Paul got off the chair to anticipate them – he noticed Joe was locking-up both-their service pistols, in a small gun-safe on the wall, with a digital keypad combination. Caroline spoke in slapdash…

“Paul, we are going now… here is some money… manage yourself, and eat whatever leftovers, as-the food is still fresh… we’ll call you once, we had arrived there…”

“Okay Mom, I can take care of myself… you-both be safe out there.”

Joe was the first to leave the front door, Paul followed Caroline and stood at the entrance… seeing them getting into the Holden Commodore – he waved and shut the door… thinking…

‘… who knows… you will be back sooner… THAT IS A DISASTER-ZONE, and all flights-over would be cancelled…’

Home-alone, with only the telly-noise, Paul walked to the dining table with the sight of the main-course dirty-plates and cutleries that needed to be washed…

… but Paul WAS ‘NOT’ in a hurry…

… he saw the newly opened wine bottle, where Joe opened earlier, for the wine to ‘breathe’ – there was also, the Simmer cake… where THE DICKSON LEFT in a hurry, before having their-dessert.

Paul walked back to the living room, with the whole cake and the wine bottle in his hands. He placed it on the coffee table, and sat on the couch in the front of the telly… he poured himself a full-glass of red-wine, and spoon-dug the centre of the cake, as he drank and ate… while watching a real-life horror-tragic story…

… the more he ate and drank, THE MORE-ANGRIER HE GOT… of ‘what’ his twin had ‘recreated’ and at the same time, he grew-depressed that HE COULD ‘NOT’ DO ANYTHING about it… as the Cursed-trio ‘presence’ DOES ‘NOT’ EXIST in this-realm.

-O-

It was past 3 PM, he thought of his girlfriend… Jane was supposed to call him, once she was finished with her lunch…

‘… Jane, are you watching ‘this’ the news, of the Queensland’s Barrier Reef’s tragedy that had rehappened…?’

Paul realised he could ‘not’ mentally reconnect with her via-telepathy – as they were ‘not’ emotionally-connected and, ‘that’ was one-of the ability of superpowers doesn’t exist at all, in this damned-Perthland – and…he became more-depressed, and was angry at Jane too…

He was drunk, and was talking-out aloud, in the empty house…

“… you wanted me to do the good things ‘only’… despite bloody-knowing that Peter was a despicable-person since ‘Day-One,’ when all 3 of us were 'cursed' in that dairy-farm…

“I wanted ‘MY’ PLAN-B TO ‘END’ this madness that taunted us… yet, you told me that vengeance was ‘not’ the solution, but doing ‘good’ is – but look at us-today… history had repeated itself – more death and sorrows, as we ‘speak’ in this cursed land, where our superpowers don’t exist… WHERE WE ARE ‘HOPELESS’ while… evil reigns…”

He was sobbing in bitterness… he drank-up his wine and, refilled his glass to the brim…

“… even SeeIn and my-dad told in a burning’ vision that – PETER HAS TO ‘GO’ – as through self-sacrifice comes rebirth, that SETS US FREE… for us to get back to our-Perth…

“Maybe, I should BE THE ONLY-ONE who should make this ultimate-sacrifice, by implementing Plan-B for the greater good… and suffer the consequences, if it ‘fails,’ by going to prison… but you-Jane… you keep-going on living with your ‘foster’ parents, as it’s the best fit for ‘you,’ in this realm…

“… you don’t deserve to be a blind-girl anymore… STAY HERE MY-JANE, let me go-on, IN ‘THIS’ MISSION ALONE…”

“I need guns… lots-of-guns…”

… that’s what Neo and John Wick ‘would’ say…

Paul got-up on his feet… wobbly, as he staggered across the living room, heading to the location in the corner-wall – where the gun safe was…

He stared blankly at the combo-lock keypads…

… it was one-of the gun-safe, where Paul had to key-in a ‘right’ password – where it had ‘only’ 3 attempts to unlock it – ‘NOT’ A 4TH – despite it was the right-password… then, it would self-locked for-security reasons… which required another ‘code’ … and if it ‘does’ come to-that – HE WAS ‘SCREWED’…

“… you don’t happen to have an oxy-cutter in your tool-box, do you, Little-Joe Dickson…? Fair enough, you are ‘not’ in the chop-shop business, yea…”

In the state of inebriation, he took a deep breath, and he carefully keyed-in… Caroline’s birth date, as the password…

… 3 piercing beeps sounded… with a LED-display spelling ERROR…

Paul took a step back, and sighed aloud in frustration, that he had only-2 more attempts… before he was ‘screwed’… he scratched his head, of ‘not’ knowing Joe’s birthday-date, to key-in next…

… he instantly gave up…

“Bad-idea Poe… maybe you should get the pitch-fork in the shed, to storm the castle, yea…”

He glanced around blur… his peripheral of Mr & Mrs wedding photo on-the-wall, caught his attention…

“… what date is their wedding-anniversary…?”

He worked on the ‘long-shot,’ as he paced to the coffee table – he found the Dicksons’ wedding-album, and dropped it on the table-top, almost knocking the fragile full-glass of wine…he turned to the pages, and he saw the date that was ‘watermarked’ on every-photo… he memorized it before returned to the gun-safe, once-again...

“… here goes-nothing, you-knucklehead…”

... Paul keyed-in his 2nd password – AND-AUTOMATICALLY, the safe-box clicked open…

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Beauty! Poe…YOU’RE A GENIUS!” He celebrated, by jumping on the spot.

He picked up Joe’s Glock .22… HE RECOGNIZED IT…. as he saw his stepfather cleaning his gun… the-day-before yesterday, during Good Friday’s vegan-lunch…

The weapon felt heavy, in his hand as he admired it, a brief-moment…

… then, the DOORBELL RANG…

‘Oh-shit…!’