Cherry Blossom Snow

A Change of Pace

As the motorcycle came to a stop, the intruder, tall and lean, dismounted with a grace that defied the chaos he had just caused. His lightly tanned skin bore the marks of adventure, and his attire, a sleeveless green shirt and black jeans, seemed dirty and pungent. He wore a necklace with a small locket, and on his upper right arm was a tattoo of a færie. Atop his head was a black velvet beret, and in his arms, an assault rifle. Removing his sunglasses, his angry green eyes scanned the room, noticing a terrified, scrawny, pale child with long white hair. As he approached her, she stared nervously, trembling in fear. He pulled down the balaclava covering his face, hoping to seem more personable and less intimidating. He smiled, but his gaze remained stern. He squatted down to meet her eye level. He held out a piece of paper. "My name is Dalziel O'Shaughnessy," he began, his voice surprisingly calm. "I've got a warrant for the arrest of Kenneth O'Reilly. Who might you be?"

She hesitated for a moment. "Mia Donegal."

"I've no record of anyone by that name living here now," said Dalziel.

"Well, 'tis the name I'll be going by now, so it is."

"So it is. To be clear, I wouldn't be a fan of police or their work, but after I'd learned of the charges against him, I needed to take action."

"So, you're not with the police?"

Dalziel shook his head, his expression softening just a touch. "No, I just directed a raid on a Royal Irish Constabulary barracks and incidentally encountered the arrest warrant, which seemed to be based on deeply disturbing but credible evidence, so I came here to deal with him."

"I'll be saving you some time, then. My parents are dead. I killed them. I am not sorry for it. If I must be punished now I'll accept that, but I regret only that I did not do it sooner."

Dalziel nodded solemnly, his understanding evident. "I'll not be blaming you," he assured her. "Surely, when such young children kill their parents, if not by accident, there'll be good reason for doing so. I'll not be inquiring further. However, I can't be leaving you here all alone, so you'll be coming with me."

Dalziel took Mia outside and made preparations for her to accompany him, loaning her his sunglasses to provide some protection against sunlight. He took the beret off his head, revealing messy black hair underneath, and gave the hat to Mia for additional cover.

During the motorcycle trip, Mia took the opportunity to admire the scenery. Dublin was a city of crumbling ruins and creaking old buildings. War, poverty, and neglect had taken their toll on the grand metropolis, which was slowly being reclaimed by the wilderness. The buildings were still there, but it was impossible to ignore the half-hidden traps and defenses that had been installed over the years by the inhabitants. Old graffiti covered the crumbling walls, and long vines and creepers had sprouted up on the roofs and windowsills. Trees had begun to take root in the cracked and uneven streets, and weeds and low bushes had started to grow where sidewalks once had been. The occasional wild animal would roam the ruins, but it was easy to avoid them and not be bothered.

Dalziel took Mia to a campground at Phoenix Park, where trucks mounted with heavy machine guns guarded the perimeter. They passed by many other people, tents, and trucks as Dalziel guided Mia toward a staff flying the flag of Ireland. Leaning against the pole was someone who looked very much like a slightly younger, somewhat friendlier, and significantly happier version of Dalziel.

"Who's that?" he inquired.

Dalziel introduced her with a straightforward explanation, "This'll be Mia. She's an orphan I picked up from a crime scene."

The young man extended a warm greeting, "Hello, Mia. I'm Leith."

The observation of their striking resemblance wasn't lost on Mia, who couldn't help but comment, "You two are brothers, aren't you?"