Phil Phorce: Time

The Phil Phorce is a fictional periodical featuring my favorite characters from my own writing.  It comes out in episodes, once every three months or so.  To find out more and to read previous episodes, please go to these two pages: About the Phils and the Phil Phorce.  Please enjoy Phil Phorce, Episode 6: Soap Opera.

It was a long ride from the Blanks’ headquarters to Percival’s apartment. Quirk vowed that once they had finished saving Isaac, he would make a pocket transportation device for the Phils to use. Surely saving that much time made up for feeling that sort of pain.

At least he got to ride on the front of the dragon this time. With Percival, Isaac, and Feiron gone, there was much more space for the rest of them to stretch out on the black pad stretched across the dragon’s back.

“I see New York City,” shouted the old lady. “We’re almost there!”

“Do you know which building is Percival’s?” Quirk asked.

Gologer roared. “Of course he does,” the old lady translated. “He’s already made this trip several times this week.”

“What floor is Percival on?” asked Quirk.

“Third floor,” said the old lady.

“Is that close to the top?” It might be quicker to land on the roof.

“No,” said the old lady.

“Get us as close as you can as fast as you can, Gologer,” said Quirk.

Gologer snorted in glee and dove.

“Why did you have to say that?” shouted Sebase over the wind noise.

“This is so fun,” said Phoenix.

“We’re going to die!” shouted Steve, sounding strangely happy about it.

Gologer snapped his wings open and landed hard on the street, barely missing a taxi. Quirk slid off the pad and helped the old lady down. Once they were all off, Gologer sprang into the air again.

“What will the New Yorkers think?” asked Phoenix.

“They’ll blame it on a gas leak,” said the old lady. “Happens all the time in this neighborhood. Come on.”

They barged into the lobby. Quirk waved Percival’s keys at the receptionist and ran to the elevator, hitting the button three times before it could even light up.

“It’s broken,” called the receptionist. “The repairmen haven’t gotten here yet.”

Quirk didn’t have time for an expletive. He ran to the stairs and pushed on the door. The old lady reached for the handle and pulled.

“What are you doing?” said Quirk. “You’re keeping me from opening it! This isn’t a game!”

“You’re pushing, and the door says pull,” said the old lady.

“Oh. Right.” Quirk let her open it and raced up the stairs.

He didn’t care that he was leaving the old lady behind. They didn’t have time for arthritic knees.

His phone vibrated, and he stumbled on the stairs, falling against the banister. He was still getting used to the phone’s vibration. It tickled.

“Hello?” he gasped into the phone as he started running up the stairs again.

“We’ve found the receiver,” said Percival. “Where are you?”

“In the stairwell,” said Quirk. “The elevator was broken.”

“You’re still back in the Blanks’ building? What have you been doing?”

“No, I’m at your apartment building, but the elevator was broken so I had to use the stairs. You’re on the third floor, right?” Quirk pushed open the door to the third floor and started down the hallway.

“Fourth,” said Percival. “I carved a three into the room key so people like you couldn’t find my room.”

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” said Quirk as he ran back into the stairwell.

“The receiver hasn’t been activated yet,” said Percival. “Jordan wants to activate it so he can save his men.”

“Don’t let him do it. If he activates it before Isaac uses the soap, Isaac won’t have any place to go when he disintegrates. He’ll dissipate and never reappear.” Quirk heard an argument on the other end.

“He really doesn’t want to wait,” said Percival. “If he waits any longer, his men might never reform correctly. Christopher disintegrated at least two days ago, and he might already be too scattered. Can’t we turn it on, then turn it off and wait for Isaac to come through?”

“No,” said Quirk, pushing open the door to the fourth floor. “Hopefully I can get to Isaac before he uses the soap, but I might not be able to. We need to keep the line open for as long as possible. Wait for my call.”

“We can give you two minutes,” said Percival. “Then we’re starting this thing up.” He cut the connection.


7 thoughts on “Phil Phorce: Time

  1. Two minutes… and I have to wait a week. *sighs in frustration* (Good job.)

    (When you get in the chatroom, I have something about this chapter that I need to tell you.)

      1. I think I might be okay… maybe. I shall try to survive. I mean… it’s only five days until Saturday… five days… five…

        (You’re welcome.)

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